Chapter 23: Ventus
Three Hours Earlier…
The last thing Severus has been expecting that day was for Albus Dumbledore to come charging through the door and into his private chambers. The look on the headmaster's face instantly made the potion master's heart drop, so much so that he hardly even noticed Sirius Black enter soon after the elderly wizard.
"What is it? What's happened?" he demanded quickly rising from his usual place, sat behind his desk. His wand was already in his hand, "Has there been another attack?"
"When is there not," Sirius grumbled, eyes wandering around Severus's office, taking in the sight of the gloomy room.
"I'm afraid that it is much worse than that, my dear boy," Dumbledore said gravely, "It's about young Harry."
Severus felt all the blood drain from his face at the sudden mention of the name.
"What about him?" he snapped, "Has he been spotted again?"
The headmaster opened his mouth to respond, but Sirius beat him to it,
"More like arrested. I brought the little fucker in myself."
This news sent a chill down Severus's spine.
"Arrested… but how?"
"The how is not important at this moment I am afraid," Dumbledore said quickly, "We have a much more time-sensitive matter currently at hand."
Severus raised a brow. He felt skeptical that there could be anything more pressing than the Dark Lord's heir getting taken to the Ministry in chains.
"In Sirius's attempt to arrest the boy, James Potter was injured and taken by Tom."
Severus ground his teeth together. Of course. This was why Dumbledore had come to speak with him.
"Taken from where?" the potion master asked calmly, his mind instantly listing out all of the places where the Dark Lord would take the auror.
"Not taken," Sirius spat, his dark eyes full of a strange mixture of worry and anger, "You-know-who showed up all of a sudden so James shoved me and that little shit into the floo so we could get away. If that fucking kid hadn't talked to that bloody house elf then everything would have been just fine!"
Severus felt his eyes bulge slightly,
"You were at the Dark Lord's manor? You broke into his headquarters to steal Harry out from under his nose? Why in Merlin's name would you do something so stupid?"
"They ended up there by accident," Dumbledore said gently, clearly trying to calm the tension between the two men, "They happened across the boy whilst trying to escape."
Severus's head was spinning from this information. All he could think about was the fact that Harry was currently in Ministry custody, chained up somewhere and about to receive a Dementor's kiss.
"And what exactly do you want me to do about any of this?" he said at long last, "You already know that I've been found out as a spy and can no longer freely return to the Death Eater headquarters without risking serious harm and certain death."
"Which is exactly what James is facing," Sirius growled, clearly feeling no sympathy for him.
Severus felt a tinge of anger and irritation flash through his body,
"And so you would have to be apparate straight to the manor and do what? I will be killed before I ever even set eyes on Potter. Besides, it is highly unlikely that the man is still alive. The Dark Lord does not tend to treat his prisoners kindly, particularly those who kidnap his son."
Black's face paled a fraction more than it already was. The auror pressed his lips into a thin line before arguing,
"You are the only one who can get in to free James. Dumbledore thinks there still is a chance he's alive. He thinks You-know-who might keep him to use as a bargaining chip till he gets his son back."
"So you want me to go and kill myself for nothing. That is what you're asking me to do," Severus spat angrily, "You aren't listening, Black! I cannot get to Potter. And even if by some miracle I were able to, there is no way I would be able to free him. The Dark Lord keeps his prisoners in his private chambers and those doors are guarded by heavy charms that even Merlin himself wouldn't be able to get past. There is no way I can get in without being personally invited by the Dark Lord himself and there is very little chance of that happeni-."
"No," Sirius cut in, "There has to be another way in. There has to be and you know what it is! You just don't don't want to tell us 'cause you're too scared."
Severus was about to throw back another biting remark when Dumbledore at last stepped in.
"I would never ask you to go on such a suicidal mission, Severus."
"Then why did you come to see me if not to ask me to try and rescue Potter? What was the point of all this?" Severus began to head back toward his desk, trying to indicate that this conversation was over.
"Because I believe that there might be another way to save him…"
The potion master instantly froze in his tracks. He suddenly knew exactly what Dumbledore was referring to. Severus shook his head and turned to look at the headmaster,
"No. There is no possible way that would ever work. He's not strong enough mentally or magically. He'll crack the second anyone asks him what he's doing there. I guarantee that he'd never make it past the front door."
"Who's he?" Sirius asked, looking suddenly hopeful, but both wizards ignored him.
"I understand that you have your doubts," Dumbledore reasoned, "But it is the only possible solution. We have already lost Frank and I worry that the death of James Potter would be too great a tragedy for some to bear. If there is any possibility that we can get him out alive then we must take it… for the sake of the wellbeing of the Order and for Lily's sake."
Severus glared at the headmaster. He knew that the old man was trying to manipulate him into doing whatever he was about to ask and he was angry that it was working. At last, the potion master sighed heavily and said,
"I will talk with him, but don't blame me when whatever plan you are thinking of doesn't work."
Dumbledore quickly nodded, his face growing serious. The elderly wizard strode across the room and pulled out a piece of parchment from his robes that he set on Severus's desk. Severus watched him closely.
"Will someone just tell me who the fuck you both are talking about?!" Sirius all but yelled, looking furious.
"Shut up, Black," Severus hissed, watching as Dumbledore began to scratch out a message on the parchment, "Or I'll lock you outside."
Miraculously, this threat worked and the auror managed to keep his mouth shut. Several minutes later, Dumbledore appeared to finish whatever he had been writing. He quickly folded up the parchment and thrust it into the potion master's empty hand.
"Deliver this to him if you would, my dear boy."
"And if whatever you wrote doesn't manage to persuade him?" Severus asked, feeling highly skeptical that a simple letter would be enough to convince a Death Eater, even a fake one, to commit treason against the Dark Lord, "What should I do then?"
Dumbledore just nodded at the letter and said,
"Don't worry. I am confident that this will be enough."
With that, the headmaster headed back across the room and swung open the heavy wooden door. He looked back to where Severus and the auror was still standing,
"Come. We must hurry, Sirius. There are still several more people I must speak with before we can leave for the Ministry."
Without another word to the potion master, Dumbledore swept out of the door and out of sight, Sirius following close behind, leaving Severus alone once more.
The man looked down at the parchment still clutched in his hand. He had a brief rush of curiosity and debated opening the letter to see what Dumbledore had written, but he decided against it. He had far more important things to worry about at the moment.
Locking the door behind him, the potion master took off up the hallway in the direction of Peter Pettigrew's chambers.
Several Hours Later…
Harry looked at the bottle clutched tightly in the auror's hand, confusion suddenly clouding his mind. He was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him. He looked at the name that was scrawled across the enchanted parchment that wrapped around the glass flask.
Harry James Potter.
The young wizard wished that he could shake his head as he read it once again. That wasn't right. That wasn't his birth name. The aurors had somehow managed to change the spell to try and confuse him… to get into his head. Harry gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes at this thought. He wasn't going to fall for it. He wouldn't!
"I-I don't understand," Black stuttered, still not taking his eyes away from the teen's face, "How in Merlin's name can you be James's son? This doesn't make any sense."
Harry rolled his eyes,
"It doesn't make any sense because it's not true, you fucking moron. You clearly bewitched the parchment to tell you whatever you wanted it to say. I don't know who James Potter is and I don't give a shit."
This bold accusation seemed to catch Dumbledore's attention. A sorrowful expression suddenly crossed the elderly wizard's face as if he had just come to realise something.
"My dear boy," he said as calmly and gently as ever, "If you are not indeed Harry James Potter then what is your true name? For I can assure you that there is no spell that I know of that can alter even a single letter of any name that this flask produces. This is ancient magic and it cannot be meddled with. So pray tell, what name did Tom tell you was your own?"
Harry could feel the air in the room grow still as if everyone was holding their breath and waiting to see what he would say. The teen just continued to glare back at them, even as a faint sliver of doubt began to tickle at the edges of his mind.
"Well, it's clear that You-know-who is just trying to get into our heads and sow confusion in the Ministry," of course it was Moody who had finally broken the silence, "That old bastard must have found a way to bring the kid back from the dead or used his blood in some other kind of fucked up illegal spell. I bet you that this brat was created as the result of some kind of black magic blood ritual because there is no chance in hell that You-know-who could ever manage to get la-"
"Shut up!" Harry all but screamed at the auror, causing several other wizards to flinch back at the sudden loud noise, "Do not speak about the Dark Lord in that manner! You know nothing of what you are saying."
Moody smirked, seeming almost pleased with himself at getting such a reaction from the teenager,
"Well then if you aren't just a spawn of evil magic and a dead child's blood then who are you? Or perhaps an even better question would be what are you?"
Harry's lips pulled back into a snarl as he spat,
"Well I'm sorry to disappoint, auror, but that information is under the Fidelius Charm so even if I wanted to tell you I couldn't."
The pleased look on Moody's face seemed to vanish in an instant, something which caused Harry no little amount of pleasure to witness. The young wizard glanced over at Dumbledore, a smirk across his face. But the old man just gazed at him intently and Harry quickly looked away, suddenly worrying that the man could somehow tell that he was lying.
"He told you that you were a Riddle, didn't he…"
Harry's head shot up as he heard Dumbledore speak softly. The wizard's blue eyes were boring into his own and the tone of the man's voice left no question.
"He told you that you were a muggle-born before he rescued you off the streets and made you into what you are today. He told you his own story and said it was yours."
Harry narrowed his eyes angrily, feeling suddenly defensive.
"You know absolutely nothing," he spat back, "My father made me who I am today. He made me better than any mud-blood could ever dream of becoming. He gave me a name that I can be proud of… and he gave me powe-"
"No, Harry," Dumbledore suddenly cut in, "He made you delve into black magic. This is a dangerous and deadly thing. He did not help you. No, he is slowly killing you all the while whispering lies into your ear."
"Shut up!" Harry growled.
But the elderly wizard just ignored him,
"You never belonged to the Riddle family, my dear boy. You were not born into the Muggle world, but the magical one. You were taken from your true family. Stolen and misled."
Beside Dumbledore, Harry could see the horrified look still plastered across Black's face. Kingsley too seemed greatly disturbed by what he was hearing.
"You are Harry James Potter. You were presumed dead, killed by Tom almost 15 years ago and that auror that tried to rescue you is your father."
The man paused as if waiting to see how Harry would take this news.
"And you really think that I am just supposed to believe you," the teen snorted as soon as Dumbledore had finished speaking, "You expect me to just listen to every word that comes out of your mouth and accept it as gospel? You are a fool if you expected that, old man. Don't think I am ignorant of what you are trying to do here."
"And what do you think I am trying to do exactly? What could I possibly look to gain from telling you the truth about your family?"
Harry fidgeted uncomfortably in his bindings getting increasingly agitated by the topic of conversation and the man's perpetual gentle voice.
"It won't work," the teen said as convincingly as he could, "Nothing you say will get me to betray my father. You should just give up while you are ahead. I'm not going to fall for any part of this wild story that you've made up."
There was a snort from off to Harry's right side.
"Oh just lay off him will you?" Moody cut in, "This little shit is clearly too blindly loyal to that pig to see reason."
"Don't you dare call my father a pig!" Harry shouted furiously but was quickly ignored.
"You said that he's got information that can help us get to Potter. You said that you had a plan, Albus. So far I don't see you are making any progress at all in getting him to talk. All you've managed to do is find us a fucking kid that we thought was dead."
"Enough! That's my godson you're talking about, Mad-Eye," Sirius said angrily, but just like Harry, the auror was ignored.
It seemed as if Moody's words had caused the spell that was keeping everyone quiet to shatter. Instantly it seemed as if every auror in the room had something to say. The noise caught the teen completely off guard and he found himself flinching away from the loud cacophony that had arisen. Kingsley seemed to be trying to calm everyone down, but whatever the auror was yelling was instantly down out by the loud voices of his companions.
The only one who did not seem to be caught up in chaos was Sirius. The auror stood stock still just gazing at Harry with his haunted black eyes. The young wizard was about to try and see if he could call on any of his magic to get him out of the accused chair when a sudden flash of white-hot pain seared across his skull. The teenager let out a loud cry and instantly squeezed his eyes shut as he felt a familiar pain race across his scar. He desperately wished his arms were free so that he could hide his face from prying eyes. Whatever his father was angry about, was certainly coming at a bad time.
Another strangled yell was forced out of Harry's lips as his scar burned with an unbearable pain. Dimly he heard several voices calling his name, but he was too far gone to care. As he felt the familiar sensation of consciousness beginning to leave him, the young wizard thought he felt a familiar prickling race along the Dark Mark on his arm...
And then his world collapsed into darkness.