“Everyone is to go to the castle immediately and you are all to stay there until further notice. Professor Vector will be left in charge, the Prefects and Head Boy and Girl are to report to her immediately. No one is to leave the castle itself no matter what the reason. You will be safest there. Everyone move. Now!”
An instant uproar followed from the stands. All the students began to head up towards the castle, many of the Gryffindors in tears. Only a few of the older, more perceptive students made the final connection between Harry’s disappearance and the unusual abate in the number of Death Eater attacks over the previous weeks. Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Katie pushed their way over to Dumbledore, horror struck. Katie was inconsolable since she was the one who had told Harry to go after the Snitch.
Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt stood deep in conversation with Dumbledore when they finally made there way over to him.
“…and you, Minerva, please can you contact every member of the Order and tell them to be at Grimmauld Place immediately. Kingsley, please can you contact Alastor Moody and Nymphadora Tonks and tell them likewise. Be as fast as you possibly can without drawing too much attention to yourself…”
Dumbledore turned around and looked unsurprised at the arrival of the two Weasleys, Hermione and Katie. As if resigned to what would happen, Dumbledore pulled Ron’s broom out of his hands and muttered “Portus!”. Instantly, he turned back to the four students.
“Miss Bell, please fly back up to school immediately; I am leaving you in charge of the students since you are Head Girl. Do as I ask please, I will give you more details when I can.”
“But it’s my fault Harry’s gone! I told him to-”
“No buts, and this is not your fault. I will send word to you as soon as I can with further instructions. Until then, please will you do your best to keep everyone calm.” Katie turned around, tears streaming down her face, and flew off towards the castle entrance. Professor Dumbledore watched her go for a few seconds, a pained look in his eyes.
“This will be the first time you will be allowed into an Order meeting,” Dumbledore said, looking back at Ron, Hermione and Ginny. “Anything said during it is strictly confidential and must not be repeated. Understand?”
As one, they all said yes and reached out to touch Ron’s broom. “On the count of three then. One... Two… Three...”
The Portkey pulled Ron, Ginny and Hermione towards Grimmauld Place. When their feet finally hit the floor of the dining room, every member of the Order, including Dumbledore, Kingsley and McGonagall, were either already there or Apparating as they watched. Ron and Ginny looked terrified at the sight of so many fearful, worried faces.
Hermione glanced around herself before leaning over to Ron.
“Snape,” she hissed at him. “He’s not here!”
When Harry finally awoke, his thoughts fled instantly back to what had happened at Hogwarts. He could remember losing control of his broom before then being kidnapped by the Death Eaters and taken to a small area enclosed by several standing stones. Once there, Harry’s memory began to fade and blur as he remembered his wand being wrestled from him and the Death Eaters, to add insult to injury, used his own wand to inflict as much pain as they could on him.
At first, Harry had tried to count the number of times they used the Cruciatus curse on him. He’d lost count when the number hit fifty-seven. He was certain that Voldemort was not there although Harry couldn’t fathom as to the reason why.
Harry also found he had no idea where he was now “ the room he was in was completely bare and dark. After several hours, the Death Eaters had taken him away from the stones and brought him to the cell he was currently in. The only light came from a miniscule window too high for him to see out of and an iron barred door which led, from what little Harry could see, into a long corridor with torch brackets along the walls. It was unnaturally void of all sounds except for that of the waves crashing on rocks and the biting wind which whistled around the corners.
How long Harry had been there he didn’t know, although he visibly flinched as he heard some shuffling footsteps. Immediately outside his cell, Harry’s gaze was met with a hooded figure whose face was disguised by a mask.
“Welcome, Harry Potter, to your new place of residence. I assume you are now aware of where you are?” a cold voice asked.
Harry didn’t answer. The Death Eater laughed cruelly and hit him with the Cruciatus curse. Pain exploded along every bone in his body and Harry’s screams echoed around the cell long after the curse itself had been lifted.
“I asked you,” the Death Eater continued as if nothing had happened, “if you knew where you are.”
“No,” Harry whispered, fearful of being hit again with another bought of the curse if he didn’t respond. The Death Eater laughed shrilly.
“Now that is a shame. You could have asked your Godfather if he was still alive. He’d know “ he spent thirteen years here…”
Harry felt a chill in his stomach.
“Azkaban?” he croaked in fear.
“And you know what likes living at Azkaban, don’t you Potter. They like the occasional visitor and they haven’t seen anyone for a very, very long time. I hear you have a special love of the Azkaban guards…”
The Death Eater laughed cruelly again and disappeared out of Harry’s range of vision. Within minutes, seven or eight Dementors came gliding towards Harry’s cell and made a semicircle around him. One drew a slow, rattling breath and Harry felt the last of his wavering strength leave him. He collapsed on to the cold, damp floor waiting in vain for someone to rescue him; succumbing at last to the darkness which was trying to engulf him.
“This meeting has been called due to a matter of emergency,” Dumbledore started, his voice beginning to crack very slightly as he stood in the dining room at Grimmauld Place surrounded by every member of the Order except Snape. “At present, we have no concrete proof as to where Harry will have been taken t-…”
Molly Weasley voice cut him off mid sentence. “Taken! What do you mean, ‘taken’?” she shouted.
“Molly, Harry was kidnapped by Death Eaters during the Quidditch match. He flew into the clouds and it was imposs-”
“A Quidditch match! HOW CAN SOMEONE GET ABDUCTED DURING A QUIDDITCH MATCH?! I THOUGHT HOGWARTS WAS SAFE! I THOUGHT HARRY WAS SAFE!”
“Mum!” Ron interrupted, “it wasn’t Professor Dumbledore’s fault…”
“YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE CAREFUL!” Molly yelled, her protectiveness of Harry more pronounced than ever. “I KNEW SOMETHING LIKE THIS…”
“Molly,” Arthur Weasley cut in. “You know what Death Eaters are like and how they operate. Once they get a plan that they intend to enforce, very little can be done to stop them!”
“HE SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN OUT THERE! HE SHOULD…”
“…Have been locked up and told to never leave the castle walls?” finished Kingsley, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Taken away the one thing Harry truly enjoys in life? Stopped just because of what might happen?”
Molly Weasley blushed and fell silent.
Dumbledore continued in a very strained voice. “As I was saying, we have no proof as to where Harry has been taken. At present, Severus Snape is trying to gauge the exact location of where Harry is. My suspicions, however, are currently on the Riddle House in Little Hangleton.”
“Isn’t that where You-Know-Who lived when he was younger?” Ron whispered.
“Yes, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore answered gravely. “It is also where Harry saw Voldemort return to his body two years ago. As to what Voldemort is planning this time though…”
“At least it’s not Azkaban,” Tonks muttered to Moody who was sitting next to her. “If he was taken to there, I shudder to think what would happen to him. It would be disastrous…”
At that moment, Kreacher stumbled into the room, cackling with obvious delight. “Shame on the blood-traitor, serves him right, killing his mother’s son. Oh, the blood traitoring brat…”
“What do you want, Kreacher?” Dumbledore asked in an uncharacteristically icy voice, his eyes burning.
Kreacher didn’t answer but continued to curse under his breath. “Oh, the blood traitoring brat, the noble House of Black dishonoured…”
Dumbledore turned away in disgust.
“…locked up with a Dementor now though, the Shame of the Wizarding World…”
Everyone stared intently at Kreacher although no one more so than Hermione.
“…where the filth of his mother’s son spent thirteen…” Kreacher’s voice faded to an inaudible level before he raised his head and stared at Dumbledore as if he’d only just realised he was there. “Does the owner of the Noble House of Black require…”
Alastor Moody hit Kreacher in the back with a stunning spell. Raising his head, Moody stared directly at Dumbledore, his normal eye wide in understanding. Dumbledore, on the other hand, had shut his eyes and held the corner of the table seemingly for support. His face had turned ghostly white and he had defeat written all over his ancient features.
“Was he talking about Harry?” Ginny ventured carefully, staring around at the members of the Order gathered there.
Tonks, white with shock, nodded.
“Locked up with a Dementor?!” Lupin exclaimed in panic. “It’ll kill him!”
“Azkaban?” Hermione asked nobody in particular.
“Yes, Miss Granger; Potter is currently in Sirius Black’s cell in the western tower of Azkaban,” Snape answered as he walked through the door from the kitchen looking tired and wan. Everyone, without exception, looked at him in a slightly awestruck way as Snape continued; “and he’s in the company of a dozen Dementors.”
The silence in the room was absolute and Snape’s face twisted into a grim smile. His black robes were hanging loosely off him and he was holding his wand. He didn’t need to wear a mask to look like a Death Eater “ just his mere stance said everything. His black eyes glittered as he turned towards the Headmaster, a slight, bitter sneer playing on his lips.
“Unless anything happens to change it, from what I’ve heard Potter is unlikely to remain alive much past the weekend. They are currently trying to see how many times they can hit him with the Cruciatus curse before the Dark Lord arrives. When I left, they were on eighty-four…”
“Why didn’t you stop them?” Remus Lupin accused scathingly, his voice growing louder. “Surely a hatred of James doesn’t mean that you’d let his only child die at the hands of a group of murderers!”
“It would have been inappropriate for me to intervene. If I had been caught, Potter’s chance of survival would have been nil.”
“Inappropriate?!” Ron yelled. “You miserable, twisted git! Wha-…”
“Mr Weasley,” Snape said in a dangerous tone, drowning out Ron’s voice. “If it wasn’t for me, Precious Potter would already be dead. I persuaded them to let the final killing blow be the pleasure of the Dark Lord himself, who has not arrived at Azkaban yet. It is now a race between the Order and the Dark Lord. Whoever gets there fastest will decide Potter’s fate. If the Order isn’t there first, there is no question as to what will happen to your faithful sidekick.”
Molly Weasley’s anguished cry brought home to all of them what a knife edge they were wavering on.
“How’s our guest?” Lucius Malfoy said as Alfred Walsham walked into the old Auror Quarters at Azkaban.
“Screaming with pleasure,” he answered, an insane grin lighting up his sallow, pinched face. Walsham was elated “ this was his first mission as a Death Eater and he was overwhelmed with pride that he had been chosen as part of the group to kidnap Harry. “He seemed especially happy when I told him that I was sending along the Dementors.”
“Ah yes. Potter has got a special way with them. They don’t seem to be able to leave him alone.”
Laughing, Lucius Malfoy stood up. “The Dark Lord should be here soon, Walsham. I am sure he will be pleased with your dedication to him. He especially asked that Potter was to be given a typical welcome. He did also say that if Potter became difficult we could ‘deal with him’ in any way we felt suitable,” Crabbe and Goyle, who had been flanking Lucius, cracked their knuckles in anticipation, grinning stupidly. The four Death Eaters fell silent as Severus Snape walked back into the room, only seconds after he had left Grimmauld Place.
“Well, that didn’t go quite to plan,” Snape sneered at Lucius in disgust. “One day that bloody House-elf will learn to stop muttering under its breath and will stop giving the game away.”
“What?” snapped Lucius in answer, unsaid accusations with regards to Snape’s loyalty lacing his voice. Snape smirked at Malfoy, who put his hand into his pocket and curled his fist around his wand while glaring at the Potions Master in distrust.
“I said that House-elf will need to learn to keep its mouth shut,” Snape continued smoothly. “No matter though, that Mudblood-loving fool is convinced Potter is currently in Little Whinging. The House-elf said he was with a Dementor, which seemed to worry him quiet nicely,”
Lucius smirked at Snape’s words but stopped when he saw the faintest trace of a glare in his dark eyes. He stood up and drew his wand, “Legilimens!”
Snape just stood there when Lucius cast the spell, effortlessly shutting down everything except the memory of him leaving Dumbledore’s office at Hogwarts after saying Harry was at Little Winging. Lucius, after watching the memory, stopped his attack on Snape.
“You don’t trust me?” accused Snape in a harsh tone. “You have heard from your own son as well as seen with your own eyes, my support of the Dark Lord and his principles yet you still feel the need to treat me as a common spy!”
“I was carrying out orders,” Lucius Malfoy countered, looking slightly awkward, as well as overwhelmingly angry. “The Dark Lord asked me to check the validity of any claims made. I will challenge whoever I feel it is necessary to. I will find out the identity of this traitor, and make them pay,” he added with a sneer.
Snape bared his teeth, his eyes flashing. His voice was sharp and furious. “I am certain you will, eventually. Incidentally, have you finished guessing yet?” Snape sounded almost careless, but Malfoy bristled with anger. He knew Snape was referring to the night at Horton Tower the month before and he stared icily at Snape, who just held his gaze with a look of pure distain.
“You push your luck, Severus,” Lucius Malfoy breathed, watching the Death Eater’s reaction closely. “You push too far, too often. You know I will be watching for any betrayers.”
Snape’s face remained impassive as he shot a glance around the room, his eyes settling for the briefest of moments on the door for the western wing of the prison.
“How dare you,” Snape snarled, drawing his wand and pointing it at Lucius Malfoy as he turned back to face him. “Your claims are getting progressively more futile. No wonder the Dark Lord sees no use in you.” Snape leered as a green spark shot out of the end on Malfoy’s wand. “I would, however, rather vent my anger on a certain teenager than a worthless excuse for a wizard such as yourself. It is hardly worth the effort.”
Malfoy was clearly seething with anger but forced himself to answer without rising to Snape’s malicious taunt.
“You know where to find him, Professor. I left him on ninety seven hits. Our Master has instructed me to be the supervisor of this exploit, and I am ordering you to bring the number of hits up too one hundred.”
“I will,” Snape agreed menacingly, swinging round and heading towards the western tower.
Lucius Malfoy narrowed his eyes in response. Alfred Walsham let out an excited laugh and made to follow him, seemingly oblivious to the palpable tension between the two Death Eaters.
“Wait,” Lucius spat as the door swung shut behind Snape. “Let him enjoy a few moments alone with Potter. We will go along for the show in a minute or two, when I have summoned the remaining Death Eaters.” Grudgingly, Walsham sat down and waited, watching his wristwatch in anticipation.
Snape heard nothing of this exchange as he was walking quickly towards Sirius Black’s cell at the top of the tower, thinking as he did so that Lucius was drawing closer to the truth at each meeting. It would only be a matter of time before he told the Dark Lord of his suspicions, if he hadn’t already. Snape knew he it was enevitable now that he would be watched.
The Order had better get here soon, he thought, as his footsteps echoed off the mossy walls. If this plan fails, there is going to be hell to pay…
Snape pulled out his wand and hurried on, walking with a menacing stride.
Harry was curled up on the mossy, damp floor barely conscious and his strength all but spent when he next heard someone approaching. The aches of the Cruciatus curse plagued him constantly and the Dementors drained him even further. He also felt excruciating pain shoot through his left arm whenever he moved. Vaguely, he was aware of footsteps drawing nearer. Familiar footsteps.
The Order! Harry thought, hope flaring inside him. Desperately, he pulled himself upright, ignored the pain and waited desperately.
“Move!” an icy voice hissed, causing the Dementors to withdraw from Sirius’ old cell. Harry froze in terror as he realised who was speaking; Severus Snape looked coldly at him through the rust tinged bars, his hood pulled up and his mask obscuring most of his face. Harry stepped back and, for a long moment, both student and teacher just stared at the other.
As Harry wordlessly stared into his Potions Master’s horror struck face, he felt a new emotion overwhelm him. Although Snape was part of the Order, Harry was still unsure as to which way his Professor's loyalties lay. Unsurprisingly, he was not looking forward to what Snape could do to him; he was, after all, a Death Eater. Snape, however, unbolted the cell door and walked quickly over to Harry without raising his wand.
“Dear Merlin,” Snape breathed, standing immediately in front of Harry. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Harry thought he saw a brief flash of concern flicker in his tunnel like eyes. Harry flinched away as Snape, with his usual scowl once again returning, reached out to touch him. Through his fear, Harry did notice that Snape didn’t seem to be making any move to curse him. He knew he was mistaken as Snape coldly raised his wand and seemed to disregard Harry’s obvious, pleading protests as he pointed it at Harry’s mutilated arm.
“Exsarcio!”
Harry just looked blankly at Snape as he felt his arm heal instantly. He didn’t understand anymore; everything began to fade, his vision blurred and his desperately weak grip on consciousness failed at last.
He never realised a strong pair of hands grabbed him as his knees buckled; hands which held on to him to stop him from crashing back down onto the floor. As Harry again succumbed to unconsciousness, a small yet defiant ray of sunlight shone through the minute window illuminating his ashen, bloodstained face.
Despite the beam’s miniscule size, it still managed to force away a little of the darkness which swamped the shadows of Azkaban Prison.
A/N: *Deep breath* - so then, what do you think? The end of this story is starting to close, so I hope you think the wait has been worthwhile…
Please let me know what you think “ I would love to know.
‘Exsarcio’ - ‘to patch up / repair’
Oh, I have also submitted a new fic called ‘Betrayal’ so if you’re enjoying this one, you might like to check it out…