- Control -
Prologue III
The first thing I noticed when I awoke was the smell of salt.
Traces of black fire licked the edges of my vision when my eyelids parted, and I realized to what I owed my recovery. Glancing around, I noticed I was on a small boat. Waves rocked me; waves from a sea I only now realized appeared in the midst of a storm. It's… freezing. It truly was, frost misted my breath and the spray of seawater froze on the sides of my craft.
I was shackled to this small boat by my hands and feet, which were numb with cold. I couldn't see over the rim of the boat's hull. They bound me inside of it… I realized, noting the multiple sheens of blues and reds that crisscrossed the wooden structure. Reinforcement charms, imperturbables…
A wave crested and the boat rocked, dipping down hard to stern and giving me a view of the horizon – that was when I saw it. Azkaban.
It was a vision of madness. Twisted spires of blackened stone were reinforced with the dull sheen of some dark blue metal that spread over them in chaotic designs. The outline of the fortress was a pale, ethereal violet that stood out starkly against the overcast sky and all but screamed of the protective wards that lay wreathed around the entire structure. Gothic arches stretched between spires, dotted with massive demonic gargoyles whose eyes tracked my approach impassively.
A sudden, strange thought flitted into my mind as I beheld the sight. This is the second time I've seen a castle in my life, and both times were by boat… For some reason the thought brought a chuckle to my throat. The sound was alien in such a place.
The chill intensified, and I felt the charms that had been propelling the boat begin to fail. What happens now? I'm still in the sea… am I going to be left to drift? I couldn't really tell how I felt about the choice between dying to exposure or facing the horrors within the twisted halls of this ancient structure before me.
I was saved from having to dwell over-long on my predicament by a sudden chill that permeated my being, cutting into me far deeper than the simple cold of the northern seas. The black flame within my mind receded while doors to my memory rattled deep within the ruins of my mindscape. Dementors…
A black shadow drifted over my vessel, formless and wreathed in a cloak of purest shadow. A skeletal hand exited the cloak and grasped a chain above my head that I could only guess tied to the bow of the boat. It's dragging me to shore… I realized, taking a shuddering breath and steeling myself for the arrival by tightening my occlumency shields.
Some moments later I found myself walking through a hallway, stumbling to keep up with the wraith from earlier. My arms were bound before me, a metal chain connecting to them and extending into the hand of the dementor that led me.
"I had expected aurors here, you know," I murmured, truly doubting my escort would be one for conversation yet I needed the noise. I needed something human in this place. I had begun to wonder if I was the only one of my kind here, here in this nexus of suffering.
The creature remained silent, dragging me through several stone archways and up so many flights of stairs that I lost count. I stumbled more than once, banging my knees on the stone. My escort was uncaring for my plight, tugging harder on the chain whenever I lagged behind and often sending me sprawling to the ground anew.
"I had also expected other prisoners, surely I'm not the only murderer in the world," my disdain was palpable, but again I truly doubted the wraith noticed or cared. Presently we entered a small hallway and our gait slowed. I was thankful for the reprieve, looking around at the darkened stone and frowning. There should be people here, I know there are people here…
We stopped before a large door of the same dark blue metal from outside the structure. I wracked my brain for the identity of the substance. Dark blue, seems to absorb light judging by the dull sheen, likely magically resistant if used in a wizard's prison… It hit me then, and I stared in wonder. Adamantium… I had no time to dwell on my discovery however, as my warden succeeded in opening the lock.
We stepped through into hell. My ears popped when we entered the room, the telltale sign of crossing a silencing ward. Screams… so many screams… They were deafening. Cells lined both walls on either side of the large hall before us. In each doorway stood a dementor, beyond which could be found a prisoner shriveled in a corner. Some twitched, some moaned, others clawed at the air – most just screamed.
This is… horrible… I thought, shivering for the first time and not from the cold. My warden guided me along one of the walls and I turned as I heard a dull thump from within a nearby cell. It was the only cell without a dementor standing before it, and I tugged on the chain that led me as I tried to peer at the occupant. To my surprise, my warden stopped and allowed me my curiosity.
I stepped closer to the bars, spotting an emaciated man standing near the back of the small stone cage. His head was rhythmically striking the wall, over and over and over as the rest of his body stood rigidly still. "H-hello?" I tried, hating the stutter but unable to stifle it. The man ignored me, continuing to strike his skull against the unyielding stone. Blood stained the wall and trickled down to the floor.
I watched him, a sinking feeling settling into my stomach that I couldn't place. "Hello? A-are you alright?" It was a fool's query considering our setting, but I could think of no other words. Slowly the man turned towards me and I caught his eyes. I dove into his thoughts hoping to glean some information on this place… but I found nothing. Nothing.
This is impossible… not even Dumbledore is great enough of an occlumens to completely hide his mind, that's absolutely impossible! Something should… my thoughts stopped. The chill within my soul settled deep into my breast, and it wasn't the comforting numbness of ebon flame. No, this was the frigid grip of horror – this was fear. He's soulless… there's nothing there… he's been kissed…
I stumbled away from the cell and retched, falling to my knees and expelling the bile in my stomach in dry heaves onto the cold stone floor. My warden began to tug on my chain but I couldn't muster the strength to stand; instead, I let him drag me over the ragged floors. My gray prison robes caught and tore in several places, but I didn't care. I could hardly think.
That could be my fate… nothing, nothing there… his soul was ripped out and now there's nothing there… My thoughts were coming faster now as pricks of hysteria tested my occlumency shields and chiseled away at the smallest imperfections. Whatever was left was just pounding his head on that wall… was he trying to find some feeling? Trying to feel pain, something to tell him he was alive? Panic was gripping me, closing around my heart with frostbitten fingers.
I was snapped from my reverie when I was unceremoniously thrown into a cell. I rolled with the throw, coming to rest against the back wall and managing to sit up under my own power. There in the doorway of the cell stood my warden, the very same wraith that had met my boat down far below in the surf. My chains fell away and I stood immediately, squaring off with the dark shadow before me.
I wanted to make some type of witty comment, inject some bit of levity in an attempt to regain some small scrap of control over the situation. I wanted to taunt this creature, to tell him he would have to pay dearly if he wanted my soul. I called to my twilight flame, called to it to infuse my will and grant me strength to face this abomination. Nothing came.
The doors to my memory rattled harder in my mind as I stared at the creature before me; sudden panic bound my heart in sheets of ice and squeezed. I backpedaled, pressing against the wall of stone behind me. "S-stay away from me…" I was trembling now. The flame abandoned me… no, it wouldn't…
A sudden force struck my occlumency shields and pierced them like a cutting curse through parchment. My mindscape trembled, doors shattered within their frames, and I fell into a stream of unbound memory…
I landed hard on my knees onto warm wooden floors. Slowly I cast my eyes around the room, frowning immediately as I noticed how… indistinct the environment appeared. Blurry… usually only happens in my earliest memories…
That was when I heard the scream, and the thundering footsteps on the stairs. No, not this one…
A woman burst into the room and ran for the crib – my crib. She was nearly hysterical. "Sirius… get here soon…" she was whispering; I noticed a faint white glow fading on her wand tip, the sign of a recently cast patronus. The woman – mother – glanced back to the door before rushing to it and slamming it shut. Nearly half a dozen wards shot from her wand in rapid succession, just as I heard the first sounds of spellfire from downstairs.
I don't want to remember this… I tried to leave the memory. I focused on my mindscape, pulling back with all of my will but it was for naught. I turned, slamming my hands onto the walls of the memory but only succeeded in tiring myself – someone, something was sapping my strength and forcing me to witness it all anew.
There was a thundering crash from beneath and then soft footfalls ascended the stairs. My mother turned just as the doorway imploded, screaming and spreading her body wide over the crib as splinters and shards of wood rained through the room.
"Stand aside and give me the boy," a silky voice drawled, and she turned and leveled her wand.
"You're not taking Harry!" Her voice was shaky but the resolve shined through – I felt a stirring of pride.
"Then you'll die with him," the Dark Lord murmured simply, raising his wand…
She didn't even fight it – to this day I don't understand why. She murmured something softly under her breath moments before the killing curse struck her stomach and rent her soul asunder. I noticed her wand flash, but the spell apparently failed as she stumbled back and screamed my name with her last breath.
Pain stabbed at my heart. It hurt me to view this memory, hurt me far more than any memory I had – perhaps because it was the earliest memory I could recall. Occlumency had given it more detail; it had allowed me to remember more of the finer points of the entire event. Why did you let him kill you mother? You had time, surely we could have escaped somehow…
"Foolish mudblood whore," the Dark Lord muttered; apparently he was as surprised as I was over the lack of fight. I'm going to kill you, Tom… I thought quietly to myself, focusing on the anger rather than the loss. The memory didn't hurt as badly as it once did, but it still tore deeply into my heart. I've gone this far… might as well watch the rest. I thought, steeling myself and returning my attention to the memory.
Slowly, Voldemort approached my crib and I felt the sting of revulsion at the smirk on his face. The cocky bastard actually leaned over my crib and cast the Dark Mark outside the open window behind me. "One less challenge to my reign…" he whispered, raising his wand towards me and starting a familiar incantation.
It was right at this moment that the window to my nursery exploded inward. A muggle motorcycle – a flying muggle motorcycle – crashed through the window and slammed into the Dark Lord, knocking him across the room and through a wall to fall down into what I supposed was a conservatory beyond. My godfather, Sirius Black, landed in a roll and gave a very dog-like snarl towards the hole in the wall. He turned and stared at the body of my mother, slumped on the ground near my crib. "Lily… no…" he whispered, tears had already formed in his eyes. He must have seen the body of my father outside.
"W-we've gotta get you out of here, pup…" he whispered, gathering the child's body into his arms just as another muted explosion shook the house to its foundations. A plume of flame and noxious smoke poured from beyond the hole in the wall. "Nothing else for it, hold on!" He pushed the child against his back and flicked his wand. Sticking charm… I recognized the wand motion now.
He dove from the window just as a ball of sickly green flew past and impacted the crib, dissolving the wood in acid. Moments before he struck the ground, his flesh shifted and a large black dog took the impact. A baby was stuck to its back as it sprinted across the front lawn, weaving from side to side as dark curses impacted and tore furrows into the ground around him. I smiled when he reached the edge of the wards and apparated them both to safety.
The memory fell away as its focus departed, but I knew the rest from a combination of scraps of information and conjecture.
My godfather had taken me to Hogwarts and given me to the care of Dumbledore. There he had been informed of a simultaneous attack on the Longbottoms and he'd left to intervene despite the old man's objections and warnings.
He hadn't foreseen that the Dark Lord, furious with his failure at Godric's Hollow, would have gone to join the assault on Longbottom Manor. From what I learned, it had been Rodolphus Lestrange that had struck the killing blow on Sirius Black.
The Dark Lord had of course insisted on slaying the Longbottom boy himself. His ego would allow for nothing less than to personally murder a defenseless child, after all… However, on casting the killing curse something had gone wrong – something that defied all logic and rules of magic. Voldemort had been destroyed that night and at the hands of a near-squib child.
Rage suffused me at the memory of that night, rage that warred with the loss. Neville Longbottom, hero of the wizarding world, Boy-Who-Lived… so many died, and some spoiled brat survives? There is no justice in this world. But then again, I knew that already. It had been beaten into me for 12 years after that night.
Dumbledore had been the one to take me to the Dursleys. I remembered that, because I could remember playing with his beard on the front step of #4 Privet Drive. He had taken me to live in hell. I'm going to repay you for that, old man… I'm going to pay you back for every single sin against me!
The rage was building within me, but it was not to be. The memory shifted and I was forced to watch my mother die again. And again… and again…
Finally, the stream of memory was interrupted. I fell back into my physical body, shivering uncontrollably from a combination of the cold and the loss. I was curled in a fetal position in a corner of the cell, and my throat felt raw. I've been screaming, then…
It took me some time to gather myself. My mind was damaged; broken shards of dark glass littered the wasteland while the ruins that had once held my memories were utterly destroyed. Golden strands of my past flitted about on unseen winds, causing those that drifted too close to my consciousness to give me flashes of remembered suffering. Raped… my mind has been raped… I could think of no other word to describe it.
I opened my eyes blearily and spotted a single vial sitting in the center of my cell. Mustering what was left of my strength I dragged myself towards it. Dark green… murky… my thoughts ran like molasses at this point, slow and ponderous. Probably a nutrient potion… but the dosage is so small… I swallowed it, pushing my tongue into the vial to get the last mold-tasting drop. Of course they wouldn't feed us real food, they won't even give us the pleasure of taste…
My warden was nowhere to be found. I looked at the entrance to my cell, yet he was simply gone. The adamantine bars were wide open. He didn't even bother to lock me in… I realized, yet I couldn't muster the strength to move towards the perceived freedom. Of course not… better to tempt us with a way to escape… I thought darkly, feeling the familiar stirrings of rage before the kindling flame was swallowed by hopelessness. I'm going to die here… No, I have to stay strong…
I closed my eyes and awaited the return of my tormentor.
Five months, by my guessing.
It was hard to judge the passage of time in such a place as this, but I'd begun to count the cycles of my warden's appearance and disappearance. Each day he would torment me for what seemed an eternity before disappearing and leaving the single half-dose of nutrient potion. My reprieve would last for some short time, usually long enough to recover some semblance of my psyche before he returned and tore it all down anew.
Slowly I had begun to recover faster. I had learned how to rebuild my broken mind, how to focus my will despite the pain and loss. I can't let myself be beaten… I thought, narrowing my eyes as I pushed myself to my knees in the cell. I have to escape this place… I forced myself slowly towards my feet before my unused muscles failed me and sent me sprawling back to the floor. No use…
No. A familiar stirring of anger blossomed in me and I grasped onto it like a lifeline. Just because the flame abandoned me doesn't mean I'm an invalid! I snarled into my thoughts and heaved myself to my feet with effort, resting a hand against the cold stone to steady myself. Slowly, I walked towards the open bars of my cell and past them into the large, empty hall beyond.
There was nothing in the central area other than dusty stone and dried bloodstains. I continued to feel my way along the wall, hissing as I spotted a warden return and fly through a window high above. He saw me, but I realized he was not my warden – though I knew not how I could tell. I had a feeling I could recognize my personal tormentor anywhere.
Keeping one eye upon the dementor above me, I slowly began to cross the hall. The large doors I had entered from were now bound in adamantium once again, so I did not bother to inspect them. Instead I walked to the other row of cells, hoping to find some other inmate who was blessed with my gift of recovery. Perhaps they know of a way to escape…
I found many prisoners curled up in a corner of their cells, but none of them would respond to my queries. My voice was dry and parched with disuse; it quickly gave out after just three stinted, one-sided conversations with my fellow inmates. The wardens will be back soon… I anticipated, dragging myself slowly back to my cell and frowning as I spotted a shadow in the corner.
"This is my cell," I whispered, it was all my voice would allow. I saw the shadow shift, realizing it was not true darkness but merely a long curtain of ebony hair. A pair of violet eyes glistened slightly in the low light, and I saw them slowly swim into focus onto me.
"It was… vacant," the voice was feminine, and I narrowed my eyes. In my experience, the female snakes at Hogwarts were often the most dangerous.
"I was out. Its mine," If pressed I wouldn't be able to say why I felt so possessive of the site of my torture, yet there was a certain familiarity with the cracked stone walls that helped to bring me a small measure of security.
"I like new cells. It's like going to a whole new world…" her voice was strange, possessing a distant quality that made it sound as if she were far away. Her eyes, however, were cold and hard. They were the eyes of a realist, the eyes of someone who had suffered and granted suffering in equal measure. They were my eyes, reflecting back at me with age and violet hue. Into a mirror, darkly…
"I doubt the wardens will let us share," I muttered dryly, though honestly I was past caring. I was tired from my stunted exploration. In truth, it had been more motion than I had performed in nearly the entire five months I had been in this hell. Slowly I drug myself over to the wall and collapsed into the corner opposite the other occupant.
"Mmm… they'll separate us when they return. For now though, it's just us…" I shivered at her words, but I convinced myself it was just the cold. "You're a mystery…" I sensed her assessing gaze and restrained the urge to look over at her. Instead, I focused on the wall and gave a noncommittal grunt.
She was undeterred, continuing in her own dry, cracked voice. "Tell me… what did the ickle baby do to get thrown into big, bad Azkaban…?" There was a teasing quality in her voice. That's more emotion than I've heard since I've been here, unless you count the screams… I was surprised that she could muster anything but sorrow, if I was honest.
"I slaughtered three muggles and somehow bungled my way through killing two aurors in the attempted escape," I replied after a moment, unsure why I was being honest but realizing there was no real need to lie. The entire Wizarding World knew of my crimes by now, I was sure.
She suddenly cackled. High-pitched, mad laughter filled our shared cell and likely much of the hallway beyond. I gave her an uneasy look, assessing her as her violet eyes danced with mirth and her emaciated frame shook with her laughter. "Ickle baby murderer!" I narrowed my eyes at her, and she gave me a toothy smile. "It's okay, I am too. Two murderers in a pod!" She spread her arms wide in a gesture to our cell. She's mad. Then again, who am I to judge…?
I turned from her and her mad, cold eyes. Leaning back against the stone, I closed my eyes and tried to find a moment of peace – they were worth more than the fabled ambrosia in a place such as this. I heard a shifting noise to my side and forcibly restrained myself from jumping or giving any other sign of my anxiety. Suddenly something sat down next to me and I drove any warmth from my voice before growling, "What are you doing?"
"I'm sitting next to the ickle baby murderer so I can see him better!" She snapped, and I shot my eyes to hers in surprise at the sudden fury in her voice. Her eyes flashed once before they regained their mirth from earlier. "Mmm… I don't recognize your eyes. Are you a mudblood?" I glared at her and her words.
"Half-blood. My mother was muggleborn, I have her eyes," I snapped back, for once wishing my warden would return and separate us so the torture could begin anew – at least he was predictable.
She hissed at me slightly when I mentioned my lineage, though she made no move to depart. Instead she leaned in closer and I couldn't resist the instinct to pull away. Her hand shot out like a whip and grabbed my collar, tugging me closer. I tried not to wince at the smell of her breath. Probably not any better than mine…
"Well, I suppose it's no fault of yours that your father married beneath his station," She drawled. I fought down the urge to claw out those violet eyes.
"Don't speak of my mother," I whispered quietly, feeling the familiar stirrings of rage. Ebon flame or not, I'll find a way to kill you if you speak ill of her again… I quietly promised.
The deranged woman stared at me for a long moment, her hand still gripping my collar and our faces inches apart. Suddenly she smiled again, "Mmkay, we'll leave the ickle baby murderer's mudblood mummy out of it." I snarled, and she grinned wider. "So what's his name?" It took me a moment to realize she was asking me for mine.
"Harry Potter," I murmured, hoping that would shut her up. Instead, her eyes widened slightly and a manic grin split her face.
"Ickle Harry murdering Potter! Oh, what would James think!?" she cooed, and I stifled the urge to bolt when she suddenly pulled me into an embrace. "Shhh! Don't worry, mummy Bella won't hurt you…" Yet…
The embrace made me distinctly uncomfortable. Best to just go with it… she hasn't been overtly hostile, though I doubt she'd appreciate disagreement… I thought, noticing a smudge on her arm as she pulled me closer. I leaned forward to inspect it and felt the cold stirring of dread when I made out the image. "You're a Death Eater…" I whispered, giving voice to my realization.
She nodded energetically, pulling me closer. "Mm-hmm! Do you like it? My master's mark is so… beautiful…" Her voice was taking on an even more manic edge, and I had to find some way to head her off before she had a chance to start extolling the virtues of her lord. "Soon, my master will—"
"You said your name was Bella?" I asked quickly, interrupting her.
She gave me a baleful look but slowly nodded. "Bellatrix Lestrange," She corrected, and I couldn't help but notice she didn't seem as proud of her last name as her first. Lestrange… I recognized the surname.
"Are you related to Rudol—" She cut me off with a hand over my mouth and a murderous growl.
"Do not speak his name to me!" She hissed, and I blinked in surprise. "My husband and I… do not speak. The wardens keep him in another wing of the prison," She explained, and I noticed her voice seemed to calm. So, she's the wife of my godfather's murderer. Small world.
"How long until the dementors return?" I asked; truthfully I hadn't been here long enough to get their times down completely. I was sure we were getting close, however.
Bella surprised me by pulling me closer and cradling me to her chest. I felt her face press into my hair – it had begun to grow longer. "Not long, ickle Harry…" she whispered, and I heard the stirrings of screams from outside the cell just as I felt my reformed occlumency shields begin to rattle. "Not long at all…"
Time passed, mindscapes crumbled and my will remained unbroken.
"You're not taking Harry!"
I awoke from my recent bout of nightmares and snarled at my warden's retreating back. My mindscape had begun to recover faster until I'd gotten to this point – able to recover swiftly enough to see the dementor as he left. I snatched up the nutrient potion and downed it in one pull before pulling myself back into a sitting position against the wall to wait.
It never took her long to arrive after that first meeting some months prior. She slowly ambled her way into my cell and collapsed next to me against the wall, sliding down until her head was in my lap. Absently I began to stroke the tangled locks of ebony hair.
We rarely spoke on these occasions. There was a simple comfort in the presence of another, and I believe we both recognized it as simply that and nothing more. Comfort… a rare commodity in a place such as this… I would often think, looking down at her shivering form. Sometimes she would hold me, other times I would hold her. I often wondered how she survived here for so long without this contact, as I'd quickly become dependent. Though I'll never admit it…
"What does ickle Harry plan to do when he escapes?" She asked suddenly, and I cast my gaze down into the tangled mass of dark strands in my lap.
"We're in here for life, Bella," I replied with a snort, and I heard her return an amused one of her own.
"The master will come for me… and my ickle murderer isn't one to stay caged, hmm?" She asked, turning over onto her back and looking up at me. I frowned down into her violet eyes.
"I never should have told you about that night," I muttered and she grinned up at me.
"Why not? It was so… entertaining imagining the old pigeon-lover's face when you cast the killing curse…" She trailed off and I felt a shiver go through her body, likely not from the cold. Sometimes I thought she enjoyed the story of my ill-fated escape from Privet Drive far more than I did.
"What makes you so certain your master will return for you?" I asked, cocking my head down at her. She frowned at me for a moment, and I pressed on. "After all, if the press is to be believed, Longbottom…" we both sneered at the same time, "killed him."
"My master isn't dead…" her voice grew distant. It was perhaps a testament to our relationship that she didn't shriek at me for even mentioning the possibility of Voldemort's demise. "He'll return for his faithful, he'll break this prison… he'll tear it down!" She shrieked suddenly, and I winced. I knew it was coming... "Then we'll kill all of those who wronged us, the mudbloods and the blood traitors… we'll bend this world until it breaks then reform it into a vision of our future…" She was mad, but sometimes I just enjoyed listening to her passionate ravings. They fill the silence, at least…
I made a noncommittal noise and closed my eyes, letting one hand absently run through her hair while the other rested over her stomach. I focused inward, preparing the trap I'd been working on for the better part of the last two months. It's ready… tonight, I think… sudden anticipation filled me, and Bella must have noticed.
"You're planning something," she stated suddenly, pulling me out of my thoughts. I gave her a bored look and she pressed on. "Ickle Harry is a plotter… and I want to know if I can help." She finished. I raised an eyebrow.
"Unless you can produce a patronus I don't believe you'll be of much assistance with my warden, Bella," I muttered dryly. Suddenly she cackled, grinning at me madly.
"I knew it! You're planning to escape!" She sat up suddenly and straddled me, looking intently into my eyes. I fought the urge to flinch.
"Hardly. But I'm curious to see just how much hold a dementor can have over a mind…" Quite curious indeed… I thought, a dark smile spreading over my face as I reviewed what I had in store for my warden this evening.
Bella positively giggled at my expression. "Tell me how it ends, ickle Harry?" She asked – her voice was a throaty purr, or at least it would be if not for the sandpaper quality from our lack of nutrition. "You always tell the best stories!"
Rolling my eyes, I gave her an impassive expression. "I don't even know if it will work, Bella. I'll tell you about it later if I'm successful… if I fail, I might end up soulless." It was the truth; it was quite possible my warden would simply kill me outright for daring to rebel against him. I tried not to dwell on the possibility.
She frowned and took a breath to object just as the screams began – the dementors were returning.
"Be careful, Harry…" she whispered as her warden entered my cell and roughly began to drag her back to her own. It didn't escape me that her voice was completely lucid.
Standing against the back of my cell, I watched impassively as a wraith slowly descended and dominated the entrance to my personal hell. I smiled then, making a sweeping gesture with my arms as if welcoming him.
I felt the first pricks on my occlumency shields, the only warning I would have before he rent them asunder. Hurriedly I fled back into my mind and dove into the currents of memory. My mindscape had been reduced to the state of a child – there was no structure to it at all. Golden strands of free-floating memory drifted on unseen tides as I swam deeper; I felt the dementor follow me into the depths of my conscious. That's it, keep up with me…
Reaching my destination, I turned and squared off with the wraith pursuing me. It raised a single, bony hand towards me as it approached, and I grinned like a Cheshire cat. "I hope you like what I've done with the place…" I whispered, feeling a slight hesitation in the creature before me.
Suddenly the entire plane of my mind shuddered. A formless void gave way to spiraling black stone that seemed to appear and sprout from everywhere and nowhere at once. Towering spires rose and challenged the sky above while gothic arches interwove them into a cohesive whole. I grinned savagely as a familiar room sprung up about us, a massive hall with adamantine doors and unyielding stone.
My mindscape was a vision of madness. It was Azkaban in all her terrible glory.
I charged at my warden then, my claws flashing in the low light. The creature dodged instinctively and I turned in midair, scraping my talons on the stone for purchase as I changed direction. It was upon me before I could recover however, throwing me bodily through one of the reinforced doors and into a stream of memory.
A dark haired boy was sitting at the Hufflepuff table at Hogwarts, an expression of mirth on his face as a bright-haired young woman next to him glowered at something he'd said. The wraith pursuing me paused in shock over the happy memory; it proved to be a mistake. I jumped onto its back, my claws flashing as I tore into the dark flesh before me. The creature screeched and tried to throw me off, flying higher into the Great Hall of Hogwarts as we battled. I have to hold it in the memory, it's weakened by them…
It succeeded in dislodging me, causing me to fall and shatter one of the great tables. The memory fell away and we were back in my mindscape. My warden began to fly up into the great windows above and I roared, "You're not getting away from me!" as I ran forward and jumped onto a wall. Digging my claws into the stone, I scaled it before flipping back and latching onto the wraith in mid-air, bearing it down to the ground. I slammed its face into the nearest structure, an adamantine doorway, over and over with all the might of my will. Break… I want your fucking skull to break…
Eventually the door gave way instead, sending us tumbling into another memory. The aberration I fought succeeded in backhanding my face, staggering me back into a suit of armor. Nearby, a red-haired first year giggled as she accepted a misshapen white rose from a green-eyed boy. My first conjuration… The memory filled me with purpose and renewed my urge to claim victory.
The dementor was confused. I grinned savagely; I'd filled this entire hall with only happy memories – only things to bolster my will. Slamming into the beast again, my claws flashed as I reached for its face…
It screeched then, long and loud, shaking the entire foundation of my mindscape. A wall exploded and it tumbled outside. I tried to pursue it, launching myself into the air but my claws succeeded only in tearing the fabric of its cloak as it fled back to the waking world. No… I failed, no!
Reality swam back into focus and I beheld the vision of my nightmares. The dementor was atop me, holding me down to the ground with skeletal fingers. The black cloth covering its lipless mouth was removed and I felt something detach deep within my chest. No…
I struggled, screaming as I kicked and punched at the beast above me. My strikes were ineffectual; it was growing harder to focus as more and more memories began to fall free. They siphoned my will and weakened me, even as I felt the pressure in my chest begin to move closer to the surface. It's my soul… I'm losing my soul…
A black despair settled over me, yet I refused to go down without one last-ditch effort. I pulled back the hood of my warden, staring into eyeless sockets of scorched bone and willed the connection to form…
I was falling through a sky amidst a storm.
My claws groped the air as I tried to find purchase in the raging winds, but there was none to find. I tried to will myself into flight, but this was not my mindscape. I have no power here…
A red sea was rapidly approaching me as I plummeted, and I struck it at speed. This isn't water… I realized as I tried to swim for the surface. Too thick… it's blood… The realization shocked me, but not nearly as much as the skeletal fingers that suddenly grasped my ankle and pulled me downwards.
I fought off the hands, kicking and inadvertently drawing in a mouthful of the foul liquid. I spluttered, beginning to panic as I found myself drowning. My claws stretched for the storm-tossed heavens above, but they seemed so far away now. I lost… I'll drown here and lose my soul… the thoughts came unbidden in my mind and I couldn't stifle them. Fear swam through me and my will faltered, unable to stem the tide of horror.
Please… don't let me die here… I've fought too hard to fail… my thoughts were coming faster, panic causing the synapses to fire at maddening rates. I called to deities far and wide, called to anything that I felt might have a remote chance of hearing my prayers for deliverance from this fate. Finally, I called to the flame, called to that which had abandoned me so many long months prior.
There's nothing left, nothing can save me… please… someone… Tonks' and Ginny's faces swam past me as my vision began to darken, yet I didn't possess the will to hold onto the images and they fell away as quickly as they came. They can't save me now, only one thing can…
I recalled the fateful thirteen minutes on Privet Drive and the twilight flame that gave me the strength to change my destiny. It seemed a lifetime ago… You're the only thing that can save me… please… help me… My eyes darkened; I expelled the last breath within me as ghostly fingers bore me down into the soulless abyss beneath…
Something shifted inside of me…
The sky exploded into fire. The sea around me was snap-frozen and shattered immediately as the flame lunged downwards and swallowed me. I felt myself being carried upwards, back into the heavens above. Freedom…
I burst free from the sea and hovered high in the air. Black, raven wings spread from my shoulders and held me aloft as I gazed down at the crimson sea beneath. "Face me!" I roared. I was no longer afraid. The flame was with me now, swirling about me in a roiling conflagration. I felt it seethe with rage. My opponent was a tormentor; it was a cause for my suffering. The flame hated the warden with a passion that transcended all reason and thought.
A dark shape broke the surface of the sea and sped towards me, its cloak billowing in the howling wind as it screeched in rage. Your fury against mine, aberration…
I tucked my wings and charged while black fire wreathed my claws in hoarfrost. I slammed bodily into the wraith, snarling as I slashed with my talons and struck the warden across the face with the leading edges of my wings.
The creature screeched as my claws found purchase in its abdomen. It managed to shove me away and hastily flew back, retreating from my fury. I beat my wings twice for altitude before rushing at it once more. Nowhere for you to run now… I'll end it here!
We clashed like the titans of old above a sea of blood and beneath a burning sky.
Columns of the brackish fluid beneath rose towards me and ebon flame struck them down. Dark fire descended in torrents from the heavens above and entombed entire sheets of the sea in glacial cold.
The dementor and I battled through it all, my claws flashing in the dim light as I sought its throat. Skeletal fingers gripped my face and pushed me away while a lipless mouth shrieked in outrage at my open defiance.
I was undeterred. Sudden instinct invaded my mind and I followed the urge, grabbing the warden by its upper arms with my claws. I pulled my head back before burying my fangs into the creature's neck.
The shrieking intensified and I was forced to use all of my will to hold the writhing aberration steady. I wrenched my head from side to side before finally ripping out the warden's throat. Vile… I spit the quivering mass of flesh right back into the monster's face. The beast wailed, clutching at its ruined throat with both bony hands. Black blood sprayed in a torrent from the wound and fell down to join the pool below, but I was far from done.
Interlacing my claws, I buried them into the dementor's breast and pulled. Sternum and ribs gave way with a sickening crunch as I tore open its chest cavity, spilling free shriveled organs and more of the pestilent fluid. Something silver flashed within its ruined breast, but the bloodlust that gripped my mind refused to allow the sight to register completely.
Die… just fucking DIE! I roared into my mind, gripping the split ribs tighter and tearing…
Snarling in triumph, I spread my arms wide and offered up two halves of a broken warden to the ruined sky above.
Ebon flame bloomed and devoured the sea, the sky and all between.