Search:

SIYE Time:14:43 on 29th March 2024
SIYE Login: no


The World As We Knew It
By ginnyp0tter

- Text Size +

Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny, James Potter, Lily Potter, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Sirius Black
Genres: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Death
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 309
Summary: Destroy the Horcruxes—that’s Harry’s goal, until an Aperio throws him and two other unknown people into a world where the prophecy never existed, his parents and Sirius are alive, and Ginny went to Azkaban for opening the Chamber. Canon pairings, pre DH.
Hitcount: Story Total: 150097; Chapter Total: 4717





Author's Notes:
Once again, this is two chapters combined to make the posting process faster (I'm writing chapter fifty now). This story will probably turn out to be thirty chapters long instead of fifty because of the combined chapters. Hope you enjoy!
Oh, and if you like this story, nominate it!




ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter


At eight-thirty the next morning, James, Lily, and Harry were eating waffles in the kitchen. James folded up his newspaper and slipped his glasses into his pocket. “Honestly,” he remarked to Harry, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Sometimes I wonder how your sister ever makes it to classes on time during the school year.”

Harry just shrugged. He wondered too. Leila must be a chronic night-owl; he never saw her before at least nine o’clock each morning.

The doorbell rang, and Sirius appeared, wearing sunglasses and a ridiculous Muggle shirt with a Hawaiian print. “Hi Lily, James. Ready to go, Harry?”

“Go where?” Lily said, lips slightly parted in astonishment.

Sirius feigned surprise. “You don’t remember? Harry and I told you months ago that we were going to take a short godfather-godson trip right before school started again.”

“What? When?” James asked, looking up from his stack of waffles.

Harry rolled his eyes. “You guys don’t remember, do you? I told you on the first day of summer. Sirius is going to take me a bunch of places. Wales, France… Where else, Sirius?”

“The Bahamas,” his godfather reminded. “I’ve got a friend who will lend us her cottage on the sea shore for a couple days.”

“It’s only for a week,” Harry said, turning back to his parents. “I’ve already packed. You guys said you wouldn’t mind taking my trunk to King’s Cross for me, and I’ll just meet you there on September 1.”

Lily shook her head. “I don’t remember you saying anything about a trip,” she said determinedly.

“You must have forgotten,” Sirius said, flashing Lily a charming smile. “Old age does that, you know. I’d recommend a nice Memory Enhancing Potion.”

“Awwww, please let me go, Mum,” Harry pleaded. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages.”

Lily and James looked at each other. “I don’t know…” Lily said, her eyebrows knitting together worriedly.

“Give the kid a break, Lil,” Sirius said. “He’s studied hard at Remedial Transfiguration all summer long. He deserves a little vacation.”

“Fine with me,” James said, shoving the last bite in his mouth and gathering up his plate and silverware.

Lily looked from Harry to James, her lips pressed together. “I guess Harry can go. Sirius, you’d better take care of him, though! If you don’t bring him back in one piece…” She left her threat unfinished, and for the first time, Harry thought he saw a flicker of fear in his godfather’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, Lily,” Sirius said chastely. “He’ll be safe with me.”

Harry smiled wryly, and excused himself to go upstairs and grab his bag. Sirius hadn’t been lying, really. The dangerous part of the plan would begin when they had to split paths.

When he pushed open his door, he found a sleepy-looking Leila still in her dressing gown standing by his desk. As he entered, she spun around, eyes flashing.

“Care to explain this?” she spat, waving the letter in his face.

“Just a first draft,” Harry said quickly, shrinking back towards the door. “I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye to you, honest!” He crossed his fingers behind his back.

She eyed him suspiciously. “So when are you going to leave?”

“I’m leaving now,” he told her quietly.

Leila’s eyes widened, and a moment later she had thrown her arms around Harry. He staggered back a few steps, and awkwardly patted her on the back.

“Be careful,” she said, her voice muffled in his chest. “Oh Harry…”

She finally released him, and stepped back. “Don’t worry,” Harry said, trying to comfort her. “Sirius is going too. He’s going to help. But I don’t have time to explain now.”

Leila bit her lip, and with a sinking feeling Harry noticed tears forming in her eyes. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, as if trying to convince herself of the fact. “Don’t you dare get yourself stuck in Azkaban, or I might be forced to come rescue you myself.”

Harry laughed with her, but part of him knew she was deadly serious. “Save me a seat in your compartment on the Hogwarts Express.”

“I will,” she promised. “If you don’t come next Monday, I swear I’ll be reacquainting you with some of my more creative curses when you do show up at school.”

Harry winced. “I’ll do my best,” he said.

Leila looked away, and Harry fervently hoped she wasn’t going to start sobbing. “I found the photo album,” she said suddenly. “I’ll pack it with my stuff and give it to you when we get to school.”

“Thanks, Leila. Listen, if I don’t come back…” Harry’s voice trailed off.

“You will,” she whispered fiercely.

“But if I don’t… The risk we’re taking…”

“I know the risks,” she said flatly. “I read the whole Azkaban book before I gave it to you. I know you’ll get ten years if you’re caught.”

Harry swallowed hard. “I just want you to know you’re the best sister a bloke could ask for.”

She gazed up at him, teary eyed, but her lips curved into a small smile. “I’m the only sister you ever had, prat,” she said. “Go, before Sirius comes looking for you.

With one last look at his sister, Harry picked up his bag and scurried out the door. In the living room, Sirius was chatting with James and Lily.

“Why weren’t you here at three this morning?” James was asking .

Sirius threw a quick glance at Harry, who had just entered the room. “I was occupied,” he said smoothly. “I forgot all about our plans.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Meaning you had too much to drink and forgot all about your little meeting with James.”

“Actually, I’ll have you know I took a girl out to dinner last night,” Sirius said loftily. “A pretty one, too.”

James snorted. “They’re all pretty, Sirius. And brainless, and empty. You need to learn from me, mate.” He gave Lily a wink.

“Harry,” Sirius said quickly, acknowledging his presence. “Shall we get started?”

Harry nodded, and took a long look at his parents before following his godfather out. It might very well be the last time he ever saw them.




Several hours later found Harry and Sirius walking down the main street of Diagon Alley. Harry was breathing hard, lugging a cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion. “Wait up,” he panted. Sirius, who was several strides ahead, stopped and waited.

“Alright there, Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, halting to catch his breath.

Sirius immediately saw the problem. He whipped out his wand and cast a Feather-Light Charm over the cauldron. Instantly the dead weight vanished.

“Thanks,” said Harry, as Sirius began to walk again. “So what were you doing on my doorstep last night?”

“I would have thought that to be obvious,” Sirius said. “James and I had to meet at three to carry out some plans for the Order, but I knew I’d never be able to wake up and apparate over here at that unearthly hour of the morning. I came as Padfoot and curled up on the doorstep to sleep. Lucky for you that I did, too.”

Harry did not acknowledge this fact, but in reality he felt much better knowing Sirius was going to help him. They had spent an hour at Sirius’s apartment the previous night drawing up a strategy. Harry hated to admit it, but without Sirius, he would have never been able to rescue Ginny. It was a two-person job. When they had finished with their planning, Harry knew their scheme was good. Very good. It might actually work. “So where are we heading next?” he asked.

“Ravenclaw Archives,” Sirius replied. Harry easily matched his long strides. “It’s the wizarding library in London, founded by Ravenclaw soon after Hogwarts was established. I’ll get you started with the old court records, then I’ve got to pay a little visit with a old acquaintance in the Auror office.”

Harry followed Sirius up a long set of stairs rising to a magnificent white marble building supported by a row of columns. Inside, Sirius chatted comfortable with a pretty blonde witch behind the information desk. She introduced herself as Debbie. “I’d be glad to assist your godson here,” she said after Sirius told her what they needed. “Right this way.”

Harry climbed three staircases and walked past more books than he’d ever imagined existed. “Hermione could live here,” he said under his breath as they started up the fourth staircases.

“What was that?” Sirius called over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” Harry mumbled.

Sirius looked as if he would have inquired further, but at that moment, Debbie made a sharp right. “Here we are,” she chirped, leading the way into a large room. The walls were hidden by rows of file cabinets that reached to the ceiling. In the middle of the room was a long mahogany table surrounded by business-like chairs.

“Make yourself comfortable,” the girl invited. “Which records are you looking for?”

“The particular case we’re searching for is a murder charge that took place in late 1992 or 1993,” Sirius said, and with a flick of Debbie’s wand, twenty thick files soared out of various cabinets and skidded down the table, landing in a messy stack in front of Harry.

“These are the serious crime files from the years you mentioned,” Debbie explained. “They are in order by date.” She paused uncertainly. “Will you be OK?”

Sirius flashed her a charming smile. “Of course. Thank you for your help.”

“Well, then, I’ll just go back to the front, but I’ll pop in later to see if you need further assistance.”

Once she had left, Sirius stood. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, hopefully sooner. It will depend on how much persuasion is needed.” Harry opened his mouth to ask what Sirius was talking about, but Sirius cut him off. “Not now…I’ll fill you in later. Good luck with the records!”

Harry watched him leave, then dove into the files. He started in September of 1992, remembering that it was unlikely he’d find the case so early in the records. But since he remembered the first Basilisk attack happening in September, he figured it would be the logical place to start.

After an hour and a half, Harry had only reached February 1993. Most of the cases were pretty boring–embezzlement, robbery, or assault charges. Harry recognized Mundungus Fletcher’s name on several of the reports, but at closer inspection, the shady wizard had always been able to talk his way out of a sentence. The majority of the murder charges were for Death Eaters, but there were some civilian cases too.

Debbie came in once, but Harry waved her away, maintaining that he was doing fine by himself. He could tell she was curious about who’s case he was looking for, but she was too polite to ask.

By the time he reached March, he was fed up with how slow things were going. He pulled out his wand and murmured a simple alphabetizing charm. The papers flew around and when they settled, the records were in order by the last name of the accused party. Much better, Harry thought as he flipped to the W’s. There were no files for a Weasley, Ginevra. Sighing, he flicked his wand and resorted the papers before moving on.

In April’s folder, he found it.

Ginevra Weasley, the file read, Age twelve. Case number 22106. Accused, tried, and convicted on the thirteenth of April for opening the alleged Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft, resulting in the deaths of four students: Ms. Padma Patil, Ms. Patricia Stimpson, Mr. Anthony Goldstein, and Ms. Alicia Spinnet. Harry felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Four of his schoolmates, dead. He forced himself to read on. Verdict: Guilty as charged. Sentence: Fifteen years in the Wizarding Prison Azkaban. To be kept isolated because of the nature of the charges. Harry smiled grimly. Perfect. A rescue would be much harder if there were any witnesses–other inmates.

He quickly scanned through the rest of the file. Sure enough, Malfoy had caught her speaking Parseltongue and opening the Chamber. He had straightaway informed his father, who had sent a whole squadron of Aurors to whisk away the dazed first year. Things had moved very quickly from there. Under Veritiserum, Ginny had admitted to opening the Chamber and releasing the monster, but she had gone on and on about a diary and a dark-haired boy named Tom. Since there was no one at school by the name of Tom, the examiners had passed him off as a hallucination that had become truth in her mind. The defense had insisted that further inquiries be made about the diary. Aurors reluctantly searched the school, but found nothing. The vote by the Wizengamot had been nearly unanimous. The verdict? Guilty. The recorder dually noted that the one person to vote “Not Guilty,” Ameila Bones, had died in a Death Eater attack only a few days later. Harry was sure it wasn’t a coincidence.

On the second-to-last page, he found an interesting tidbit. McGonagall hadn’t been the Headmistress at the time of the trial. Another woman had been head of the school, Julietta Meriden. After the deaths, she had been voted out of position by angry parents, and counsel members. Despite the push for Dolores Umbridge to become Headmistress, the counsel had decided on Minerva McGonagall instead.

Harry quickly flipped the last page and scanned the list of trial attendees. To his outrage, not a single Order member had attended the trial. Harry guessed that they hadn’t been allowed in. Not even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been there. He choked down the urge to vomit as he began to understand a bit of what Ginny had gone through. She had sat in that horrible chair, all alone, with the chains encircling her tiny wrists, in front of the entire Wizengamot. Not a single familiar face had been there to comfort her.

The writer stated also that the location of the entrance to the Chamber was a fact still to be disclosed. The head of the Wizengamot didn’t want the location to be widely known. Well, that explained why McGonagall hadn’t known where the entrance was. She hadn’t been allowed to attend the trial, nor would she have heard from Draco Malfoy, since he went first to his father instead of a professor or the Headmistress.

Harry sighed, and leaned back in his chair. The whole trial had been a scam. He tried not to think of Ginny, all alone at the trial, probably thinking that even her family had deserted her for what she had done. And to think that this would’ve never happened if he and Lupin hadn’t changed the realities. If the Aperio had never taken place, Ginny would be at the Burrow right now, happy and healthy with her friends and family around her. Stop that, Harry told himself sternly. It’s not your fault that Ginny’s in Azkaban. Then why did he feel so guilty?

“Find anything?” a voice said.

Harry jumped at the sound, and whirled around to see Sirius standing there, clutching a leather packet in his hands. Harry silently handed over the case report.

“Excellent,” Sirius said, quickly scanning the first page. “She’ll have a cell to herself.” He kept reading, a scowl forming on his face. When he read the last page, he let loose a string of profanities Harry was sure his godfather would’ve never used had Lily been present. “Damn them all,” Sirius finished, pounding the table with his fist. “Of all the low, slimy, treacherous things to do…”

“Do you think the Ministry kept the Order members from attending the trial on purpose?” Harry asked.

Sirius nodded grimly. “It’s just the kind of trick Lucius Malfoy would pull.” He pulled out his wand and muttered the duplication spell. Tucking the copies into his pocket, he shoved the stack of papers back into the file and unceremoniously threw the folder back into the stack. Then he turned to Harry. “I’d say some lunch at the Leaky Cauldron is in order.”





“What are you looking so smug about?” Harry asked a half hour later, exasperated. He took a sip of his Butterbeer and looked expectantly at his godfather, who had been periodically smiling for no reason at all throughout the meal.

“Nothing really important,” Sirius said evasively, but Harry persisted until Sirius finally gave in. “Alright, I’ll tell you. See this?” Harry’s godfather waved the leather packet in front of Harry’s face.

“Yeah?”

“Look inside.”

Harry looked, and found several very official-looking documents. “But... These are visitation rights!”

Sirius grinned. “Bingo.”

“Where did you get these? And why does one say Jean-Claude Benoit on it?”

“One question at a time,” Sirius said, taking a swig of his Firewhisky. “I told you I visited a friend in the Auror department, didn’t I?” Harry nodded, and Sirius looked around cautiously to make sure they weren’t being overheard before continuing. “My friend’s name is Hugh Pullman–yes, the brother of Elijah Pullman, the famous Keeper–and he’s an Auror. Aurors have permission to give out visiting rights for prisoners in Azkaban. Without a permit, it is possible to visit prisoners, but much depends upon their status. A few years ago I caught Hugh making illegal bets on the outcome of the Chudley Cannons verses the Tutshill Tornados, and then sabotaging the Tornados so the Cannons would win. I should have turned him in as a Ministry official, but I didn’t. Instead I let it pass, knowing that the day might come when I needed something from him. So I visited him this morning, and told him what I knew and what evidence I had, and for my silence, he somewhat reluctantly gave me this.”

“Cool,” Harry said, glancing over the documents. “But why is one for Jean-Claude Benoit?”

“That’s your alias. As soon as Ginny is discovered missing, they’ll come after me. I don’t care if they question me. They won’t be able to find my house, and they’ll have no proof that I had anything to do with Ginny’s escape. But I’d rather not put you and your family in that situation, so you’ll pretend to be a very distant cousin visiting from France. The Ministry isn’t allowed to track down people from other countries unless they are currently residing in Great Britain. So technically, you’ll be safe.”

“But what about you? Won’t they ask questions about your cousin and inquire further?”

“Maybe,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair and fishing around in his pocket for a galleon and a few knuts to pay for the meal. “But I doubt it. The Black family is very extensive. It’s well know that some of my relatives came from France hundreds of years, and others from Romania as well. I’ve got so many distant relatives not listed on the Family Tapestry that any well-educated Ministry official knows it’d be impossible to track down a distant cousin.”

“What if they submit you Veritiserum?”

“They won’t,” Sirius said confidently. “I’ve worked for the Ministry, and I know how they think. Our plan is foolproof.”

Harry wished he felt as confident as his godfather sounded.




They flooed to a Wizarding pub called the Deadly Dagger. It was north of Aberdeen, Scotland, and at first appearance, Harry decided he’d finally found a pub with a larger cast of shady characters than the Hog’s Head. Sirius rushed Harry out the door, and they crossed the street to a shabby-looking hotel–Berja’s Bed and Breakfast.

Sirius reserved two rooms, and paid in advance for dinner. They spent the rest of the afternoon perfecting the plan, Sirius drilling the details into Harry’s head. By the time dinner was over, Harry was exhausted, having spent most of the previous night awake. “I think I’ll turn in,” Harry said, yawning over the last few bites of pudding.

“Get your sleep,” Sirius instructed. “Merlin knows you’ll need it.”

But Harry couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned on the scratchy mattress all night long, his mind filled with images of Ginny, Dementors, and the green flash of the Avada Kedavra curse. Obviously, Sirius was having no such problems, because Harry could hear snores through the thin walls. He finally groped around for his wand and cast a sloppy silencing charm, but it didn’t work. When he did fall asleep, he dreamed of tall black walls, shackles, and iron bars. He was stuck in Azkaban for years…for eternity…with no possible chance of escape. But that wasn’t the worst part. In his dream, Ginny was there too. He’d failed to rescue her.

“Harry. Get up.” Someone was shaking him.

“What time is it?” Harry mumbled, rubbing his eyes sleepily and stretching.

“Seven,” Sirius said over his shoulder, heading back toward the door. “The boat to Azkaban leaves at eight, so you’d better get ready.”

Harry got dressed quickly, throwing a large loose black robe over his pants and shirt. He filled his pockets with the small vials of Polyjuice Potion they had packaged the night before, and grabbed his wand before descending the stairs into the diner below. When he got there, Sirius was still polishing off a plate of bacon and eggs.

“Want some?” he asked, his mouth full.

Harry shook his head. He was sure his stomach wouldn’t allow it.

“You’ve got to eat something,” Sirius said after swallowing. He ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair. “You’ll need your strength,” he added in a lower voice.

“I don’t think…I can’t…”

“Just a little something,” Sirius said sternly. “Think you can manage a glass of pumpkin juice?”

“I guess,” Harry muttered, and sat down heavily in the chair as Sirius went over to the bar and returned with a brimming goblet.

“Drink it quickly,” he commanded, nervously looking at the clock on the wall. “We don’t have much time.”




The air was strangely cold as Harry followed Sirius down the deserted Muggle road. There was no sign of the rising sun. The sky was dark and cloudy, and a stiff breeze was blowing a freezing mist around.

“Here we are,” Sirius said, making a left. Harry could see a severe grey stone building built right on the rocky beach. He heard the roar of the waves crashing on the shoreline beyond the building, but the sea was hidden by the fog.

“Where are we?” Harry asked in a low voice.

“The clearing house for Azkaban prisoners,” Sirius said grimly. “The last place some of them ever see before they’re sent to the prison for life.”

They approached the building tentatively. Sirius paused before the grim door. “Harry, are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?” Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Sirius raised a hand. “Wait. Think about it. Are you sure you want to take this risk?”

“Yes,” Harry said immediately.

“You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you why. Why are you doing this?”

That one was easy. “I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t try. She’s innocent, Sirius. We both know that. If I don’t do something, who will? No one.”

His godfather smiled sadly. “You’re just like your mum and dad. They always fought for what was right no matter what other people said. No turning back, then.”

“No turning back,” Harry repeated firmly, and Sirius pushed open the door. Harry followed him into a dark room with grey walls. On the far wall were several cells surrounded by prison bars. A short round man wearing spectacles was hidden behind a desk piled high with papers. Sirius cleared his throat, and the man looked up.

“Yes?” he barked. “What do you want?”

“We’ve got permits to visit a prisoner at Azkaban.”

The man silently held out a pudgy hand and Sirius passed the official papers over. The man’s eyes widened in surprise. “These are for Ginny Weasley.”

“Yes? What of it?” Sirius said shortly.

“She’s hardly ever allowed visitors. You must know someone in high places to acquire these. Even her parents aren’t allowed to see her.”

Harry bit back a few choice swear words, remembering that he wasn’t even supposed to understand English. Sirius looked like he might explode, but he instead took a deep breath and said, “Well, they’re authentic, I promise you.”

“I don’t doubt they are,” the little man muttered. “Two visitors, then. You… and who is this?”

“My nephew, Jean-Claude, visiting from France,” Sirius said.

The little man scrutinized Harry from over the top of his glasses. “A bit skinny, isn’t he? Not of age yet, huh?”

“No.”

“Did he bring his wand?”

Sirius turned to Harry and rattled off a long string of French-sounding words. Fighting the urge to grin, Harry gave a tiny nod.

“Hand your wands over, then,” the man barked.

Harry waited until Sirius had pulled out his wand before retrieving his own and placing it in the outstretched pudgy hand. He felt a sense of loss, though he knew he’d get it back…eventually. His wand had become part of him.

“Right this way,” the man said, rising from the overstuffed chair and waddling down the hallway. They followed him through the building and through the back door onto the beach. “Your boat is there,” the man directed, pointing to a medium-sized boat on the shore. “Usually the Dementors would want to accompany the boat, but since you’re visitors, there will be no need.”

Harry gingerly climbed into the pinnace and seated himself on one of the benches. He figured that the boat could probably hold about twelve passengers if full. Once Sirius was in, the boat began moving by itself. Out, through the surf, and into the open sea.

He shivered as the wind whipped the icy water into the boat. Once or twice the sun broke through the gray clouds, only to be hidden again a few moments later. The waves seemed to be getting larger. Harry gripped the side of the boat and at a particularly jerky swell, he promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into the water.

Sirius, rather than being sympathetic, was pleased. “Good, good. You’ve got to look as weak as you can going out so we’ll be able to fool them on the way out.”

“That’s alright for you to say,” Harry grumbled, wiping his mouth and holding his nauseated stomach.

The ride seemed to last forever. Harry knew they were getting close the prison long before the grey outline of Azkaban appeared on the horizon because of the cold chill in his chest that had nothing to do with the weather. He squinted, and in the distance, he could barely make out black specks hovering in the sky. “Dementors,” Sirius acknowledged.

As they got closer, the coldness increased. The screaming hadn’t begun yet, but he knew it would. He swayed a little in his seat.

Sirius looked over at him worriedly. “Are you OK?”

“Just the Dementors,” Harry mumbled.

Sirius dug into his pockets. “Here,” he said, handing Harry something brown. “Long-lasting chocolate candy. Stick it in your mouth and it will dissolve slowly. It will help.”

It did help. The coldness lessened, and the screaming did not start in Harry’s ears. The boat was drawing nearer to the prison now, and Harry could see a huge stone fortress rising impressively from the water. The enormous waves were slapping against the walls, the spray flying at least twenty feet into the air. The building was so tall that the top was obscured by the mist; so wide, that Harry was sure it must be several miles in width. On one corner of the fortress, Harry could see a small black dock. The boat seemed to be making for this entrance, and a few minutes later it had pulled up next to the pier.

“Come on,” Sirius said, and held out his hand to help Harry out of the boat. Harry was feeling incredibly dizzy; the ground seemed to be moving up and down.

“The feeling will leave in a little bit,” Sirius said, reading his mind. He supported Harry as they slowly climbed the narrow stone steps to the archway guarded by two Dementors. Harry felt his eyes rolling back in his head as they neared the tall, black-robed beings. He chewed on his chocolate quickly and felt a little better, but he could now hear his mother’s frantic screams.

“All right there, Harry?” Sirius said softly once they had passed the Dementors.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, straightening. Block the Dementors from his mind. Yeah, that was the trick. He focused on the happiest memories he could muster, and chewed on the chocolate once again. “I’m fine,” he said, impatiently. “Let’s go.”

They made their way down a dark hall. Harry shivered as water dripped from the slime-covered ceiling. Even though they were out of the wind, a cool draft was blowing through the passageway. Soon the narrow hall turned into a courtyard, lighted by dim candles on old iron holders around the walls. A big, burly man was standing there, waiting. With a shock, Harry recognized Walden McNair, a Death Eater who had for years served as executioner for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The last time Harry had seen him was at the Ministry, the night Sirius had died.

“You’re here to visit Ginny Weasley,” McNair growled. “Humphrey owled me and told me you were coming. Right this way.”

Sirius and Harry followed the man down numerous corridors and up a labyrinth of staircases. “Act like you’re getting weaker,” Sirius hissed in Harry’s ear. It was part of the plan.

Harry nodded slightly to show he’d heard. It wasn’t hard to pretend. The corridors were guarded by Dementors at every turn, and every time they passed one, Harry felt his knees weakening as the screaming filled his head. Finally, his knees buckled on the twentieth staircase, and Sirius had to grab his arm to keep him from falling.

McNair looked back. “What’s the matter with your cousin?” he said sharply.

“He’s never been around a Dementor before,” Sirius said quickly. “He’s having a bad reaction, that’s all. He’ll be fine.”

McNair grunted and continued on up the stairs. Sirius supported Harry, who was still finding it hard to walk. He tried to memorise each turn they took, but it was hard as his eyes kept trying to roll back into his head. The screaming was relentless. Block it out, he told himself. Think of Ron and Hermione. Think about Leila, and Mum and Dad. Anything happy.

Now they were passing cells with prisoners in them. Harry couldn’t really see into the cells, as each cell was closed in by a huge steel door with one tiny barred window near the top. The stench of urine and feces was overpowering; Harry choked, and even Sirius seemed to be trying not to breathe.

“Here we are,” the Death Eater grunted, stopping by one of the cell doors. He pulled from his pocket a large ring of severe-looking keys and fitted one into the massive bolt lock. With a couple jerks, the lock turned, and the cell door swung open.
Reviews 309
ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter




../back
‘! Go To Top ‘!

Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
Design and code © 2006 by SteveD3(AdminQ)
Additional coding © 2008 by melkior and Bear