CHAPTER 56: Year's End (Part 5)

Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom

June 6th, 1994

6:55 p.m.

It was anger. A jolt of pure hatred that had been injected straight into his veins and now flowed over every last inch of his body. His hands were shaking, his heart beating so fast it made a hole in his chest. There was something nauseating about it, an almost foreign feeling to it, that put Harry on edge. This felt different from any of the other times he'd been angry - furious, even. It was much more raw and deep than ever before. The type of anger that couldn't be repelled, couldn't be forgotten, couldn't be ignored.

The tender smiles, the hearty laughs, the pure look of pride as Longbottom could so effortlessly do the one thing he had been killing himself of accomplishing for months. Wonderful Neville. Perfect Neville. Of course, he can do it. Of course, Lupin helped him. It hadn't been enough to be hailed for choking on your drool as his parents were being murdered. No. He had to do it with one of his father's closest friends. The bastard that abandoned him to the Dursleys and every other fucked up shit that had gone down in his life. The whiny little bitch who had started a witch hunt with the other teachers instead of being grateful of his kindness.

But it hadn't been mercy that had kept him from outing Remus, it had been his own idiotic sense of honour. His naive willingness to let Lupin free on the account of his father's memory. Even after refusing his pleas for help against the dementors, he'd kept his word. Because even though they'd sworn an unbreakable vow after the whole situation was done and over, he saw just as many loopholes to the vow as Lupin. But unlike Lupin, he wouldn't be so quick as to tarnish the memory of his father. He would keep his word.

A foolish promise, one he had no intention of keeping anymore. Lupin and Longbottom had lit up a match and thrown it into an ocean filled with oil. He wasn't thinking anymore, his very vision was turning blurry from the anger as his feet refused to settle. So as he placed himself on the classroom besides Lupin's and waited for the full moon to rise, he didn't care that Lupin would be put down before the sun rose again. He didn't care about how many of his classmates the werewolf would slaughter on his way around the castle.

He needed the attention, after all. And what had any of the bratty bastards had done for him in the first place?

For hours, he waited. Erratic, almost itching as every minute turned slower. He heard his classmates go by around the halls as they laughed and babble on and on about what their plans for the summer would be and how much they would miss each other and all the stomach-churning, false fawning over each other that made him sick to his core. Every single one of those kids renewed his determination to see this through.

It had been nearly seven when Harry heard him. He didn't have to even say a word for Harry to recognise him, his very steps as he strolled around the halls were notorious in it of themselves. Rushing over to the door and quietly opening a gap, he could almost hear the wind swish as he saw the dark cloak flying behind the Potions Master. A new surge of anger rose, only to be trumped by curiosity when Snape turned on the spot and barged into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

And before he knew it, Harry was following behind him. Carefully sneaking into the classroom before quietly climbing up the stairs to the Professor's Office. The door was closed and locked, but he could still hear the voices from the other side of the room.

"Your potion, Lupin," Snape said coldly, before there was a muffled crash.

"Thank you, Severus." There was something about Lupin's tone, downcast and almost shy, the only time he had heard it before had been when he'd confronted him after the full moon.

"I'll have an elf over tomorrow to bring you food and the first batch of healing potions. Remember you have to drink all the potion and exactly-"

"Two hours before sundown," Lupin finished the sentence before Snape could. "I know. That's one thing I will not forget."

"We'll see," Snape sneered. There was a moment of silence that made Harry back away slowly in fear that Snape was leaving.

"Severus…" Lupin eventually said. "I'm truly grateful for what you've done this year for me. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you."

"Don't thank me." The venom in Snape's voice almost gave Harry whiplash. Even with him, he had never heard Snape so angry. "Why Dumbledore allowed you to return, after what you did, I will never know. So let me be clear when I say, I'm not wasting away all of my spare time with this potion for you or for him. I'm only making sure the rampaging beast you are doesn't get to try and slaughter anyone else in this castle again."

"That wasn't me- I didn't-" Lupin sighed helplessly. "Black set you up on his own. I had nothing to do with that, I swear."

"Black spent twelve years rotting in the dark cells of Azkaban and is now about to get the Dementor's kiss. But you… you got to live out your pitiful life free as Dumbledore protected your vile, little secret - even after nearly murdering me. My only regret in life is that I couldn't tell anyone about it."

The door abruptly opened and Harry all but jumped the three remaining stairs before behind underneath them, behind the blackboard Lupin used. Holding his breath and clutching his grips, Harry's heart began to beat with every step Snape took as he rushed down the stairs and out of the classroom. But even after the door to the classroom was shut, Lupin's tired sigh didn't let him relax. His anger at the man returned with a quick spark, but he remained still.

There were a couple of moments of silence before Lupin spoke again.

"Hagrid," he said, and Harry blinked. "It's Remus Lupin. I'm on my way down to the hut, and I'm bringing Neville, Ron, and Hermione with me. They want to see you before… Yes, yes, I know they can't be out at these hours alone, that's why they asked me to escort them to and from. Yes, don't worry. Alright, I'll be right there. I'll only be dropping them off, I have to return to the castle for… something."

Almost immediately he heard Lupin's steps as he came down the stairs before he too followed in Snape's footsteps and left the classroom. What Longbottom and the other two idiots wanted with Hagrid today of all days, he didn't know, but he would remind himself to later thank them for this perfect opportunity. The trail to the hut would take nearly half an hour, which meant Lupin wouldn't come back for another hour.

Harry rushed up to Lupin's office and immediately found what he was looking for. A cauldron filled with a thick, bubbly green potion - its mere smell almost making him want to vomit. There was something about the potion that was calling to him. The way Snape spoke - beast, sundown - there was no way this wasn't connected to Lupin being a werewolf. Questions about how Snape knew and how Remus tried to kill him quickly flooded his mind before they all dissipated instantly.

Harry looked at the potion, his eyes moving quickly as they examined over every inch of it, before a twisted smile began growing on his face. Harry dropped to his knees and began to frantically open and close every one of Lupin's drawers. Quills, parchment, notes, exams - they were all filled with boring school teacher items that were the furthest thing from what he was looking for. And just when he thought he would have to sneak into Snape's stores, he found it.

There weren't as many ingredients as he had hoped, but with potions, even the smallest mishap in their brewing could breed catastrophic results. He grabbed a handful of them - rat spleen, ginger root, mallowsweet, a frog's toe, and daisy roots - before carelessly dumping them all into the potion. It gave a gurgling sound as bubbles began overflowing the top of the cauldron. The cauldron itself began shaking and just when Harry thought it was going to explode, it abruptly stopped.

Harry looked down at the potion, it had changed to a dull purple - wholly different from the shade of green it used to be. But a potion was still, in its very essence, a liquid, which meant it only took a simple colour changing charm to make the change unnoticeable.

Whatever the potion was meant to do, it would surely fail now. And with its failure, it would wreak some havoc. And Harry couldn't help but smile nastily at the thought.

Parkinson Palace

December 31st, 1995

11:00 p.m.

"You still haven't found him yet?" Theo asked when she returned to the table.

For the past hour, she'd been roaming around the ballroom and even some of the rooms and studies in the floor level of the manor. Her grandfather had gone missing at some point during the ball, he and a few of the other major figures in attendance - most notably the Minister for Magic himself. However, everyone else had eventually returned, but her grandfather hadn't.

The timing of this sudden disappearance couldn't have been worse for her. She couldn't stop thinking about it, and being left to simply sit by and wait for her grandfather to appear before she could do anything of value with that very critical information was wearing on her very thin patience. And the futility of her constant searches made her feel just as useless as she was during Halloween.

"He's not here." She said, her words colder than she'd intended them to sound.

"Where could he possibly be? This is his ball!" Theo hissed.

"You know what's happening tonight, don't you? The reason your father isn't here tonight?"

Theo's face turned firm. "Yeah. You think he's there?"

"For all we know, he could be. Either there or he joined my brother with the Longbottoms."

"What is he doing there?"

"Looking for Potter."

"Well, that clearly isn't going to pan out." Theo bit out. "We need to find your grandfather now. The more time Harry's out there, the more likely it is the Aurors will find him."

"I know, I know." Pansy sighed. "But I can't exactly just pop into the Longbottom's Ball. Or Azkaban for that matter."

"Are you sure he's not here?" Theo urged. "Upstairs, maybe?"

"If he's here… if he's here, then perhaps… perhaps he's at his main study on the fourth floor." Theo's eyes immediately lit up. "But if he's there, it means he doesn't want to be disturbed. I can't just barge in there. Especially not now that they've shut me out of even the regular meetings."

"Just… knock or something - I don't know! But we have to tell your grandfather, and soon. I'm sure he'd want you to go there if he knew what you knew."

"He wouldn't. He never lets anyone into that study, and more than that, he hates being interrupted. Tonight, of all nights, most of all."

"Then I'll go," Theo said, standing up.

"No, you're not." Pansy yanked him back down by his arm.

"It's not like he's gonna kill me. Besides, he needs to know this!"

"All the stairs that lead to the upper floors have been warded against anyone who doesn't have Parkinson blood. You literally can't go there."

"Then you go."

"Theo-"

"Pansy," he said. "Harry needs us. Just go and tell him… please."

Pansy scoffed, glaring at Theo, who at this point had grown as accustomed to her glares as the two of them had to Harry's. "Fine," she finally said. "I better not regret this, Theo. Otherwise, I'm taking it out on you."

With a final dirty look, she stood up and left Theo behind.

It had been twice her grandfather had caught her trying to listen in to the meetings, and she knew he knew about her regular attempts to get any information out of her brother when they were alone. Her grandfather was nearing the end of his patience, it was obvious from the last time she tried it. She only hoped he wouldn't be angry for interrupting him.

Walking away from the party, Pansy found the nearest staircase and began to climb upwards, feeling how the wards judged her as she rose. The more she climbed, the quieter the house got, and she quickly remembered how disturbing the place was without a mass of people and loud music playing. She could almost hear the silence, it felt more like a constant noise than the absence of it.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered as she reached the fourth floor. The hallway was empty, but she could feel the eyes of the portraits on her as she walked along it. Passing over her room, Kieran's, her grandfather's, before she finally reached the study. The largest in the house, and one she had never even been able to see with her own eyes.

Braver than she felt, Pansy knocked loudly on the door and waited. But as time passed, and she got no answer, the courage she had begun leaving her. Knocking again, quicker and more recklessly this time, she waited once more, but no answer came from the door. Her hand hovered over the knob, only for her mind to begin berating her for how stupid it would be. But still… the door was always locked when her grandfather wasn't there… so either she would find it locked and assure herself of that, or the door would be open, and she'd be able to tell her grandfather everything.

It was a naive train of thought, an idiotic one she was using to satisfy her own curiosity, but one that allowed her to take hold of the knob and twist it. Pansy blinked when she heard a small click and the knob turned fully, the door opening slightly with it. "Grandfather." She said, her voice almost as loud as a whisper. The candles atop the large desk were lit, as were the two lamps inside the room, but as her eyes wandered, they found no one inside the room. "Grandfather?"

Like the sound of a million curses, her mind began firing warnings at her. Screaming, begging to shut the door and go back down to the party. There was no one there. Her grandfather either went to help Kieran, or to do something for the Dark Lord during their siege of Azkaban. In any case, he wasn't here, and she definitely shouldn't be here.

But as her mind screamed, her hands wouldn't let go off the door. If her grandfather wasn't here… and the room was open… it meant she could finally get the answers she wanted. She could find out everything Kieran and her grandfather had been keeping from her ever since she returned for the winter holidays. Neither of them were here to stop her, this would be her best chance - her only chance - to snoop through his office.

No, this wasn't foolish. This was smart. Foolish would be to try this when everyone was at home, when Kieran and her grandfather weren't off in their respective missions and, for once, unable to stop her. When she didn't have the large party downstairs to distract them in the case they returned soon. It was a risk, but one highly necessary. What would be foolish would be to waste a chance such as this one,

In a swift move, Pansy fully entered the room and locked the door behind her. She wasted no time as she ran across the study and settled herself atop the armchair behind the desk. There were dozens of documents in plain view, reports from Unspeakables on important and confidential Department of Mysteries business. Each of these documents explicit enough to make every lowlife at the Daily Prophet drool at the sight of them, and she skimmed through all of them before quickly disregarding them without a second thought.

And when she found nothing concerning Harry or anything that would be talked about in the secret meetings, Pansy began searching within the drawers. But everything she found proved to be even more worthless than the documents atop the desk - letters to various people, official documents regarding House Parkinson, deeds to several properties. All useless, for she knew she wouldn't be able to take anything out from the study without her grandfather noticing.

She searched the papers within the books that littered the bookshelves, searched in between the gaps of the couch, she even searched on the drawers of the corner stand where a lamp was sitting. But she found nothing. "Fuck," she breathed out. She bit her lip, her eyes getting drawn to the ornate mantle clock that sat atop the fireplace, and realised she'd wasted nearly ten minutes in the fruitless search and had found nothing. Pansy blinked, only for her heart to stop for a moment.

She nearly jumped over the small table in front of the couch as she rushed to reach the clock. Staring at it, almost reverently, she traced the almost unnoticeable gaps that drew three-fourths of a square. Slowly, she pushed her hand forward and almost gasped when she heard a clicking sound. The front part of the clock came forward like a door opening, and when it did, she saw there was a stack of parchments piled up inside.

This had to be it.

She quickly snatched the bunch of parchments and immediately recognised various of them. Her old letters, her reports about Harry. What he did, who he hung out with, his character, abilities, deficiencies, flaws. Only now there were small scribbles on its edges, observations from her grandfather. The letters were small, the scribbles just about illegible. She threw them to the ground in a fit of frustration before she began scanning through the rest of the parchments. There were pictures in there, a thorough investigation of Harry throughout the years. And in them, there were even pictures of the three of them at Hogsmeade, some even from the day they first went to meet her grandfather.

"What the fuck…"

She began rapidly shifting to the other pieces of parchment. Letters from Carrow, Snape, and a few other names she didn't recognise. All about Harry, more of his investigation. The Prophecy he had told them, the Horcruxes, Harry's family line. It was all there. More than a thorough investigation, it was Harry's entire life in a stack of paper. And her grandfather's own scribbles and notes about him. Quicker and quicker she began to move on to the rest of the parchments before she abruptly stopped as she caught a glint of red hair and a twisted smile she would never forget.

Her mouth dropped, and her eyes remained fixed on the man - one of five, but the only one she recognised. Her heart began beating faster and faster before her eyes dropped onto the title of the parchment to which the pictures affixed to.

Gringotts Bank: Transfer Voucher - 9,000 Galleons

"Deeply insightful, isn't it?" The voice forced out a gasp from her mouth as she dropped the last of the documents onto the ground. He gave her a soft, grandfatherly smile - one that felt gave her chills. "Please return those documents to their proper place. You know how I feel about the mess."

"Y-Yes, sir." She said instinctively, dropping to the ground as she hurried to pick everything up and leave as soon as she could. Her hands were almost shaking as she bunched everything up once more.

"Not that one," he told her. "You have plenty of questions about it, I'm sure."

"No, sir," she gave a nervous smile before she turned serious. "None at all."

"Regardless… I'd like to discuss it with you." He motioned for her to continue, and she did. Gulping and looking strictly at the parchments in her hands, she picked everything back up before placing the stack back into its secret compartment within the clock. She hesitated, her hand hovering for a second before she fully closed the door, and when she did… it clicked.

"Please, granddaughter." She heard her grandfather say without taking her eyes off the ticking clock. "Take a seat."

Pansy breathed in, seeing her face relax through the reflection of the clock, before she gave a firm nod. She turned around, and took a seat on the offered chair before placing the parchment atop the desk and giving a curt bow of her head to her grandfather. Slowly, he grabbed the parchment and placed it on his lap, his eyes gently moving as he read it in silence. He didn't open his mouth, didn't seem interested in speaking, and a sense of disquiet began to quickly overtake her.

"I- I was looking for you, grandfather." She finally said as coolly and calm as she could. "Urgent information about Harry."

"All in due time, my dear. Right now, I'd like to talk about you."

"Of course, sir."

"I must confess myself truly disappointed in you, Pansy." He said, a hint of true sadness hidden behind his composed tone. "Out of all my grandchildren… I always favoured you."

"I'm sorry, grandfather." She tried to appease him, but her words fell on deaf ears.

"I thought we had come to an understanding. Was I wrong for thinking that? For trusting you to follow my orders?"

Pansy gulped. "No, sir. It won't happen again."

"A fascinating document, this is, don't you think? One that's bound to raise various questions… various thoughts. I'd like to know what you think."

She let the words sit for a little longer, fought to keep her calm before she gave a small smile. "It was an incredibly cunning idea, sir. One that worked in our favour, I believe."

"Did it?" He asked baldly.

"Of course. It was because of the attack that Potter finally joined us."

"Indeed. And why is that?"

"Because Potter is a rabid dog. Nothing more than an unintelligent beast looking for targets to kill. You knew… even before that first meeting… you knew that he would decline your proposal. These… goons were merely the insurance policy. The tool you used to bind Potter to our cause."

"Oh, it's our cause now." He smiled. "Your brother warned me about your devotion to the Dark Lord… I feared you would never truly decide between your family and your beliefs."

"Your revelation about the Horcruxes… it truly opened my mind to the Dark Lord's threat."

"And going back to this parchment, does it bring you no conflict? You were involved in the attack, after all. Your friends. Some of your fellow classmates were killed in the scrimmage."

"Not at all, sir," she said resolutely. "They were all pawns, merely means to our end. They mean nothing to me. As for myself and my friends, I know now I was never in any true harm. Now… now I understand why… why Dolohov didn't kill Daphne and Draco when he had the chance. You would've ensured none of us were harmed… no one that was of importance. Potter's Mudblood and blood traitor friends would have served as motivation in it of themselves, there was no need to put us in danger."

Bedivere smiled, and Pansy let out a small breath as she returned it. "I knew you were the smart one of the family. You understood everything about the decision, were capable of thinking in a grander scale without letting any personal biases cloud your judgement, said every word I wanted to hear…" his smile faltered, and Pansy's heart dropped. "I only wish you hadn't been lying when you did."

"Grandfather-"

"Imperio!"

Azkaban Prison

11:15 p.m.

There was no more time.

The attack had been swift yet mighty. In less than an hour since they stepped foot on the island, they had overrun the prison and dispatched most of the useless sods charged to protect it. As for the Ministry's greatest weapon, it had been almost shocking to see with how much of an ease the Dark Lord had overpowered it and turned it on its favour. The dementor forces had been most useful at holding off the counterattacks from the Ministry and the Order while the Death Eaters ransacked the fortress.

It was a miracle the tower was still standing. The place was torn apart from the inside. All the cells had been laid to waste, as the halls were coated in blood and littered with corpses. Their rampage would forever haunt Azkaban prison, serving as a constant reminder of the day it fell. That was if the Dark Lord left it standing altogether, for he could very well decide to tear it to the ground the moment they left it.

And as the Death Eaters raised hell on every floor to release their captured brethren, he was in the middle of the most dangerous contest he could have imagined participating in. His sense of self-preservation had been howling at him ever since Bedivere had charged him with the task. It was idiotic in it of itself to arrive at Rookwood's cell before the Dark Lord did, but to actively attempt to sneak him out of one of the largest prisons in the world while it was being sieged by a mass of Death Eaters was suicidal.

And yet, he couldn't deny the need for it. The Department of Mysteries and its Unspeakables had brought fear to every magical child who knew of their reputation. The macabre experiments they performed on anyone the might find worthy of notice, the complete impunity in which they worked that allowed them to do as they please. And most of all, the power they were said to hold. It had been no mystery why the Dark Lord had immediately ordained the first Unspeakable that had turned to their side into his inner circle.

If what Bedivere had said was true, and everything known - however limited - was a front to cover up the Unspeakables' true work. There was a wave of dread and excitement and the thought of what they could be doing behind closed walls. An unfulfillable void that begged to be fed as countless scenarios of what was inside the Department of Mysteries barraged his mind. It was a fact he would not soon ignore or forget, and one day, he would get the truth out of Bedivere's words.

But just as he yearned for that knowledge, he knew it was one that must be protected at all costs, especially from someone as powerful as the Dark Lord. The more limited it was, the more valuable it remained, and the more time he would get to use it to his advantage.

He managed to leave Moros behind when they freed Hephaestus from his chains, and immediately stuck to the shadows. In a place as dark as Azkaban, it was easy to avoid his corporeal form as he travelled across the halls faster and stealthier than before. He made his way up the tower, his sense of dread rising with every second that passed. Every moment he wasted was a moment less he had to find Rookwood before the Dark Lord could, and with it, the grew the sheer impossibility of getting him out of the fortress without anyone finding out.

The more he climbed, the more he wondered if Rookwood had already been found. If the Dark Lord had taken him away from the prison to question him alone. Most of the cells had already been ravaged, and the ones that hadn't been reached yet brought only disappointment. And even then, those were few and far between. If he found Rookwood in one of those cells, he wouldn't have time to execute his plan either way.

It was a gamble, especially since there were only two floors left that hadn't been reached by the Death Eaters yet - the ones at the very top of the tower. Referred to as No Man's Land, it was the section of the prison that was littered with dementors. There were no human guards there, no person who dared enter those floors when they weren't transporting prisoners. The very heart of hell itself, reserved for the worst of the worst, no one who entered and stayed for more than a couple of months ever came out the same.

Artemis. Hecate. Anaideia. Deimos and Phobos. There was no doubt in his mind they would all be here, and if rumours were to be heard, this used to be the place where Ares and Black resided during their respective stints.

There was no guarantee that Hermes would be here. Considering he knew there were plenty of Death Eaters who deserved to be in this ward much more than him, it would've been highly unlikely. But Rookwood was an Unspeakable, if they wanted to cover his innocence up, they may have moved him there after his original incarceration.

Gamble felt like such an insufficient word.

He climbed along the stairs, travelling along the shadows, making it almost as fast as if he were flying all the way to the top. And as he was doing it, he immediately felt it - a paralysing frost that hit him as soon as he reached the foot of the stairs that led to the first of the two levels. He stopped, almost forced out of his shadow form as a sense of misery fell upon him.

Yaxley blinked, and the prison faded all around him. Complete darkness overtook his surroundings, with the only source of light being the vibrant, Victorian house in front of him. Burning and falling apart from the inside as the screams that came from the house slowly began dying out.

He shook his head, forcing himself out of the memory and back into Azkaban. Letting out a shuddering breath, forcing himself to go up the stairs as he tried to ignore the fact he couldn't even see any dementors nearby. His body felt heavier and walking became an even larger chore. And even though he could return to the shadows, he didn't dare try it again. With every step he took, his mind began to be filled with doubts, with the futility of his mission, with dark thoughts he'd long locked away.

When he finally arrived to the first of the two floors, Yaxley threw his body onto the large oak doors and pushed them open with all the strength he still possessed. And when the doors opened and the howls and moans of the prisoners reached his ears, his knees gave out on him, and he dropped to the ground. The sheer force of despair that hit him, it was overwhelming - and for the first time in his life, he wished for death. Wished for anything to take away that feeling of utter hopelessness.

"My Lord," he heard a voice, it was like a whisper.

"Remain here, Ares." The cold, high voice he had learnt to fear echoed across the building. "I'll free our remaining brothers and sisters from their cages."

"Do I tell the rest to retreat to Malfoy Manor?"

"No. With the dementors protecting us from outside attack, we're in no rush. Azkaban is a formidable fortress and one that should be easy to defend - it is also one of the Ministry's most powerful buildings. It's not something I'm so willing to give back so quickly, especially now that I control the dementors. Determine which of the prisoners are loyal to us and kill the spares while I consider our next move."

"Yes, My Lord."

There was no more time.

It was like a jolt to his heart, one that made him almost jump on his feet. No turning back, the only way out was through. Harnessing what force of will he had left, he raised his head, only to be immediately stunned by the dozens of dementors that were in front of them. All of them roaming the hall with an eerie calm, feeding themselves of the prisoners constantly. They paid no attention to him, and before he could wonder why they didn't follow the Dark Lord's orders to guard the outside of the prison, his legs began to move on their own.

He purged the urge to shiver as he passed beside the dementors, looking into the cells in hope of finding Rookwood. Instead, he saw his old compatriots, all shades of their former selves. Skeletal and gaunt, misery written over their faces as they were slumped all over the floor. These witches and wizards who were the most fierce opponents - vicious, ruthless, smart, and terrifying in their own right. Individuals who he had never seen even slightly shaken, now entirely shattered.

It was a sobering image, one that gave him the urge of getting out as soon as humanly possible.

Four of the five cells ended up being dead ends, and just when he was about to give up hope and let his body give out on him, he found him. Behind the formidable, grimy beard and the long wild hair that covered almost everything above his legs, he immediately recognised him by his violet eyes.

With a burst of flight, he crossed the barrier of the cell while making it appear undisturbed, and immediately, Rookwood began moaning and whining loudly. Everyone on the other cells turned rowdy by the display, and Yaxley's heart stopped. Rushing to peek outside, he watched as the far away figure of the Dark Lord appeared, crossing over the barrier of the door. His face blank, there was no reaction to anything. Not even a twitch of his body showed any effect the dementors could've had on him.

"Fuck," Yaxley bit out, turning back to Rookwood. His mind began playing over all the different scenarios that could happen, figuring out the best option in the few time he had left. And in all of them, there was no way he escaped with Rookwood without the Dark Lord killing the both of them. The Dark Lord would get to Rookwood, there was no stopping that. But that didn't mean he couldn't do anything.

"Imperio," he whispered, and immediately clutched his middle at the pain that burned through his torso. Rookwood immediately stopped, his face losing any trace of emotion as he awaited his instructions.

With a rushed movement, Yaxley extended his silver arm and yanked out each of the chains that were being used to tether Rookwood to the ground. There wasn't enough time to snap the shackles as well, so instead, he levitated some stones from the ground and began transfiguring them into chains identical to the ones that used to hold Rookwood. Connecting them with the rest of the chain and the shackle, he made sure they were secure enough and didn't even seem fake. Once he was reassured of that, he turned to Rookwood.

"The moment these chains turn back to rocks, you'll run, swim - kill, if you have to. Do anything to escape without being caught, no matter the cost." Rookwood's face remained blank, but he knew the commands were being heard. "Tell no one I was here, and hold off telling the Dark Lord anything about the Department of Mysteries. No matter how much pain you feel, you will not reveal those secrets."

He heard the Dark Lord's footsteps getting louder - he was almost there.

"Nod if you understand."

Rookwood nodded.

Yaxley let go of the curse and right when the Dark Lord was about to reach Rookwood's cell, he went back into the shadows and escaped before the Dark Lord could tell anything was amiss.

Grimmauld Place

11:20 p.m.

The entire house had been quiet for nearly thirty minutes now. There was no rain thumping above, no fire cackling inside the room. It was in that intense quiet that he heard it, the creak in the door as it slowly opened. Any other time, he may have ignored it in favour of keeping his eyes closed and continue trying to go back to sleep. But there was something odd about this one, the very sound making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as his body immediately sensed danger.

By the time the door was shut again, he had stood from his bed and walked all over to the bars of the room. The room was so dark, it was hard to see, much less recognise someone from afar - but even then, he instantly recognised the dark cloak he saw every bloody day at the castle.

"Snape?" Harry hissed. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Snape didn't answer, instead remained placing a bunch of bullshit charms onto the door before he turned his eyes on him. Entirely dark and filled with rage, Snape descended the stairs without saying a word as he gazed at him with pure discontent. "You impress me, Potter. Of all the pigheaded and idiotic things I could've thought you would do over your winter break, I never even considered you'd somehow get yourself locked in a cage with your wand snapped before even being away of the castle for more than a day. Then again, at this point, I wonder how I could be surprised with the likes of you."

"I didn't get myself locked up, dipshit. I didn't have much of a say in it. Besides, what the fuck are you doing here? What," he laughed. "Are you a secret member of the Order of the Twats?"

"Mind your business."

"Fuck, you are." Harry's face twisted into a snarl. "How the fuck do they let you join when they fucking locked me up!"

"Quit your whining," Snape snapped before his eyes turned away from him as he began looking into his cell. "Pitiful. Even after being captured, you somehow managed to convince Dumbledore of giving you preferential treatment." Snape scoffed. "It's time we changed that." Pulling out his wand, Snape began turning back all the transfigurations that Dumbledore had placed the night he first arrived. The floor turned into a puddle of damp mud as the bed and toilet disappeared. And then, for good measure, Snape launched a banishing charm at him that pushed him to the ground, covering his entire body with muck

"Oi!" Harry said, shaking off the fresh mud as he felt it get underneath his shirt, hissing when it hit his scar. "What the fuck was that for!"

"I warned you," Snape spat. "Even since before you went and idiotically murdered Montague inside the castle, I warned you what would happen when you started messing with people so much more dangerous than you could possibly fathom. I warned you about Dumbledore. But you wouldn't listen, you never listen. And look where it led you."

"I thought you'd be happy," Harry said bitterly. "One less annoying dunderhead to prepare for the OWLs, am I right?"

"Happy? You think after all the time and effort I placed into you. After everything I did to keep my promise, that I would simply smile while you threw that all away by getting your wand snapped. Fourteen years of raising you, of preparing you, and it only took you a couple of months to throw it down the drain."

"Raise me? What the fuck are you talking about."

The question halted Snape's tirade as the man tilted his head and gave him an odd look. "My God. You are even more thickheaded than I thought. Have you lost any sense of critical thinking from lack of use, or did you never have the capacity to do it in the first place? Think, Potter. Think! Have you never wondered how you ended up living with your muggle aunt and uncle, separated from everyone and anyone in the magical world, until you were all but forgotten? Why every Slytherin quickly turned on you since the moment you were sorted into the house? Why no one ever found out about Montague's attack and the scar he gave you. Why you were sent to me rather than Pomfrey after you were rescued from the Chamber of Secrets? How every time you suffered a dementor attack, you woke up in your dormitory rather than in the infirmary? For once in your wretched life, use your brain and think!"

"You… it was you," Harry heard himself say. "You knew… you… all of it. From the beginning… you- you were part of it. You… you sentenced me to this shithole! To fifteen years of hell!"

"I turned the weak, pathetic little boy that you were… into a survivor." Snape said coldly. "Everything you are, all of your feats and strengths, the ones you deeply treasure… you have them because of me."

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Harry roared, launching himself at the bars of his cell as he tried to reach for Snape.

"And now look at you," Snape snarled with disgust. "Whining every day about your miserable life, staying inside this cell as you do your pathetic little tantrums rather than using any shred of Slytherin talent to free yourself. You've turned emotional, complacent, reckless. You've done everything I told you not to do and now, you've lost your magic and lost yourself so deeply in your self-pity… you've lost that killer instinct you had, that need to survive. You have forgotten what it is, deep down, that you're fighting for."

Snape pulled up his wand and aimed it towards Harry.

"Don't you fucking dare," Harry snarled, tearing at the bars that protected Snape like a rabid animal. "I'm going to fucking KILL you!"

"Allow me to remind you…" Snape didn't smile, his eyes not even holding a faint hint of amusement. His face was deadly serious and determined as he opened his mouth and shouted "LEGILIMENS!"

That's it for this chapter, thank you all for reading!

I'm going to address this before I get a lot of comments about it, but yes, I know I said that Harry getting his wand snapped and getting thrown in the cell was the last big defeat he would face, and I did kind of break my promise with this last scene with Snape. But there's a reason for it. This was an arc that wasn't planned but it turned out to be really big for Harry's character growth and development since the entirety of the next arc (at least for the Harry POVs) will be set inside his own mind, which gives me a chance of exploring his inner demons and angels. It's an in-depth analysis into his character, what it is that drives him after being punished all his life, and most importantly, who he is at his very core. It's something that I believe it's very worth it, especially for the ending of the arc and what changes it will bring to his character, but I know people will be pissed anyways, so I wanted to talk about it here first.

If that's something you hate feel free to vent about it in the comments or if you really want to, quit reading the fic (though that's something I wouldn't really recommend)

Anyways, like I said, the next chapter we'll see the first part of Harry inside his mind as well as the reaction of everyone within the Order to the events of this last scene. Be excited!

By the time I'm posting this, I'm SIX chapters ahead, and I'm starting to write the next arc titled The Devil's Greatest Trick in which we get to see the aftermath of all the secrets that have finally come to light and how they impact the characters and relationships between them. If you are interested in learning how to get early access to them, join my discord server using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT

As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)