Q/A time!
I'd have put this at the end of the chapter if I could.
Why can Harry still speak Parseltongue if his scar is gone? I have decided to make Parseltongue an ability that doesn’t go away with the vanishing of the scar. He’s spoken it before, and it is one of his permanent capabilities.
Snape was acting very un-Snapeish. Was he just trying to play nice or is there something else going on? You’re right; Snape is being nice. Mainly because he’s just so desperate for information, and after five months of thinking he was going crazy in the new reality, he was actually glad to see Harry, believe it or not.
Why is the Dark Mark over Hogwarts? Did someone die? Yes. One of the minor teachers did die. The Muggle Studies professor, to be precise.
Is it possible for other people to join them going back to their world? This is the best question I’ve been asked yet! I know the answer… but I’m not going to tell. All I’ll say is, it has never been done before and would be extremely difficult.
Please tell me his sister isn’t going to die. No. I solemnly swear not to kill off Leila. But you don’t know how close Sirius came to dying in this chapter… I practically had his death written… then decided at the last moment that it’d just be too cruel, especially after Lily and James's traumatic deaths (I nearly cried when I killed them off). So I let him live. And he won’t die later, either. I promise.
What has happened to Pettigrew? He’s playing the faithful little Death Eater.
The Horcrux hunt hasn’t been very interesting. Sighs. I know. I didn’t feel like writing long drama-filled Horcrux-destruction chapters. I wanted the story to be based on other, more important plotlines, so I let the Order members deal with the Horcruxes.
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The World As We Knew It | ||||||
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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: 150277; Chapter Total: 4246 Author's Notes: |
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Harry stared in disbelief at the Dark Mark. He felt frozen to the ground…the last time he’d seen the mark was the night of Dumbledore’s death. Snape’s words came back to him: The Dark Lord has taken a special interest in you… Harry would bet his Firebolt that the Death Eaters had come to Hogwarts to capture him. But when they didn’t find him, would they torture and kill the teachers and students? He had to get back…he had to help… They couldn’t hurt Sirius, or Leila, or Jeremy, or Demelza… Harry broke into a run. He was gasping for air by the time he reached the gates. He’d never reach the castle in time. He still had a good mile to cover… Harry pulled off his Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it into his pocket. A moment later, he’d transformed and leapt into the air in his falcon form. Nothing looked wrong as Harry soared closer to the castle. The green Dark Mark hung in the air, but other than that, the setting was serene. He rode the wind currents and landed on the open window of his room. Harry transformed and gasped. The entire dorm had been torn apart, as if someone had been looking for something. Not bothering to look around, he dashed down the stairs. To his surprise, the Common Room was packed with scared-looking Gryffindors. Some of the first years were crying. “Harry!” Seamus and Jeremy shouted as he skidded to a halt in the doorway. “What are you doing here? How’d you get here?” “What’s happening? Where are the Death Eaters? What are you all doing in here?” Harry panted. “When the Death Eaters attacked, there was an announcement that everyone was to get to the closest Common Room as quickly as possible,” Jeremy said, his eyes wide with fear. “As soon as the last of the students who could make it were in here, the door was magically barricaded.” “Whose out there fighting the Death Eaters?” “The teachers,” Seamus replied. “Flitwick and McGonagall are in charge… It’s like a war.” Harry looked around. Suddenly he realised that Leila was missing. “Where’s my sister?” Neither Jeremy or Seamus was meeting Harry’s eyes. “Where’s my sister?!” Harry shouted again. “I’m sorry, mate, we don’t know where she is,” Jeremy said apologetically. “There were about twenty Gryffindors that didn’t make it back. We hope they made it to the Ravenclaw Tower, but we’re not sure.” Harry strode over to the door. It was barricaded from top to bottom. “Reducto.” The spell didn’t work. Neither did the unlocking charm… or any of the other spells he tried against the door. “What are you doing?” Seamus said, his face white. “The teachers want us to stay in here!” “I have to get out! I have to find Leila…it’s me they want…” Harry said before he could stop himself. Both Seamus and Jeremy stared at him. “You? Why would the Death Eaters want you?” Jeremy exclaimed. “It’s too hard to explain,” Harry said. All the windows were barricaded as well. How could he get out? Suddenly he hit his forehead. “I’m so stupid,” he groaned. “What?” Harry didn’t reply. He only dashed towards the door and up the stairs to the dorm. The window was still open. He didn’t realise that Jeremy and Seamus had followed him until Jeremy spoke. “Um, Harry, where are you going?” Harry spun around. His mind raced… He was out of time. “I have to find Leila.” “Why are you standing at the window? It’s a hundred feet down!” Seamus said. Harry looked out the window once again. He could see the Dark Mark hanging over Hogwarts… There was no time. “You can’t tell anyone. Promise?” Seamus and Jeremy looked at each other. Clearly they thought he was mental. “Promise.” Harry concentrated, and a second later, he had turned into a falcon. Seamus gave a little yell and stumbled back. Jeremy looked awed. “I’m an Animagus,” Harry said once he’d transformed back. “That’s how I got here.” “Wow,” Jeremy said. “That’s wicked!” “Yeah, well, I’m out of time, so I’ll talk to you later,” Harry said sarcastically. He transformed and flew to the windowsill. “Be careful, mate,” he heard Jeremy say before he leapt into the air. Harry circled around the castle, looking for an open window. The front gates of the castle had been barricaded as well, but Harry was pretty sure the Death Eaters hadn’t simply walked up to the front doors and knocked. They must have gotten in one of the secret entrances…and searched the Gryffindor tower for Harry first. He found an open window. Vector had left the window open to his Arithmancy classroom. Harry soared in, and transformed back. He raced to the door and flung it open. The fourth-floor corridor was empty. Harry could hear the sounds of a fight, though, somewhere in the castle. He quickly threw on his Invisibility Cloak and headed in the direction of the fighting. Harry descended the stairs and looked for signs of the fight on the third floor. There were big black holes in some of the walls, and most of the portraits were deserted. One chandelier had fallen from the ceiling, and its pieces were scattered all over the floor. Harry ran down the next staircase and found similar signs of fighting on the second floor. Now the sounds seemed to be coming from directly underneath him. He dashed down the last staircase that led directly to the entryway of the castle. The scene that met him made slide to a stop, frozen. Full battle was raging. Spells were flying everywhere. Closest to the stairs, McGonagall was locked in a fight with Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry was surprised at how quickly the Headmistress could move, seeing how old she was. Even so, Bellatrix obviously had the upper hand… McGonagall looked like she was getting tired. On the other side of the entryway, Moody was fighting two massive Death Eaters that Harry didn’t recognize. The doors to the Great Hall were open, and through them, Harry could see Daryl and Flitwick dueling Nott and Avery. He ducked between the spells flying in the entryway and slipped down the right corridor, but not before aiming several Stunners at Lestrange. The last one found its mark. McGonagall looked around, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “Potter? POTTER! Where are you?” Harry ignored her, and slipped down the hall, knowing that if she knew he was here, she’d probably make him go back to his dorm by force. He had to find Leila. Grubbly-Plank was lying in the corridor, but she was still breathing. Harry stepped over her and continued on, following the voices. Slughorn came barreling down the hall, sweat dripping from his chin. He was muttering to himself. “Death Eaters…must hide…must get away…” Harry stepped aside and let him pass. Coward. Suddenly the air was split by a scream…a scream Harry recognized. He dashed towards it and when he rounded the corner, he skidded to a stop. Leila was lying on the floor surrounded by three Death Eaters. She was screaming and writhing…Harry could see a woman Death Eater holding her Leila under the Crutiatus Curse. “Tell me where he is!” the woman screamed before breaking the spell. “I don’t…know…” Leila spat. “And if I did, I’d never tell you!” “You will tell me,” the woman snarled, raising her wand again. “Do you really want more pain? Tell me where your brother is!” She started to cast the Cruciatus Curse, but suddenly she was blasted forward into the wall. Harry turned his wand on the other two Death Eaters. They turned around, and he recognized them as the senior Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe looked around nervously. “W-who’s t-there?” he cried. Stupefy, Harry thought, and the red jet of light hit Crabbe in the chest. Goyle took one look at the two fallen Death Eaters and ran for his life. Harry ignored him, knowing that he was no threat. Harry would be surprised if he could even cast a decent shield… Harry raced to Leila’s side, throwing off the Invisibility Cloak. “Leila! Are you OK?” “I’m fine,” she gasped, clutching her side. “You need to get out of here, Harry, they’re looking for you!” “I know,” Harry said. “Listen, I’ll be fine… Take the Invisibility Cloak and get out of here!” “Where are you going?” “I’m going to go help.” “NO! I won’t leave you here!” Leila insisted. “Harry, you’re the one they want! If they get you they’ll kill you…” “I’ll be fine!” Harry said impatiently. “I can fight. I can’t leave it to the teachers…and there are still some students out there… Not everyone made it back to dorm.” “I’ll fight too, then!” “No, Leila! You…you’re not experienced…they’d kill you…” “I’m not going to hide!” Harry gave her a long look. “Then you leave me no choice.” Leila’s eyes widened. “Wha…” “Imperio.” A second later, her face softened. “I’ll take the Invisibility Cloak and hide,” she said cheerfully, seizing the cloak. Harry watched her throw put the cloak on and listened to her footsteps as she left. He really hadn’t wanted to do that…but anything to keep her safe. He turned and ran back towards the entryway. When he rounded the corner, another Death Eater had joined the fight. Moody and McGonagall were fighting back to back, throwing spells at the three Death Eaters, but they seemed to be doing fine. Harry ducked under the fire and ran down the other hallway. No one even noticed him slip by. As he ran down the hall, he heard crying from one of the bathrooms. He stuck his head inside and found four second year Hufflepuffs huddled in a corner. They stared at him wide-eyed. “Listen, just stay here,” Harry instructed. “You’ll be safe as long as you don’t leave, OK?” They tearfully nodded, and he turned back to the door, quickly performing one of the spells Moody had taught him in “detention.” It made sure that no one with a Dark Mark could enter or exit the bathroom. Once that was completed, Harry continued down the hall, looking for more students or Death Eaters. Suddenly he heard voices. “Where is he? You promised he’d be here! Have you joined their side?” “I told you, he was in his dorm all morning long… I don’t know how he’d have gotten out. I had people watching the portrait hole!” Harry slipped around the corner. McNair was standing there, glaring threateningly at…Clark? “I swear, he’s here somewhere,” she insisted, glaring back at him. “And as for your other question, I have always been loyal to the Dark Lord and I always will be!” Harry moved quickly. “Stupefy!” he shouted, and McNair crumpled to the ground. Clark spun around, eyes wide. “You,” she growled. Harry kept his wand up, and hers was pointed straight at him. He remembered Moody’s instruction–“When you’re in a duel, wait for the other person to cast the first spell.” “You’re a Death Eater,” Harry accused. She smiled maliciously. “You finally figured it out, Potter. Too bad it’s too late to warn your friends…” “You told Voldemort everything!” “I did.” They were circling each other now. “Stupefy,” she suddenly yelled, and Harry conjured the fastest shield he’d ever pulled up. “Very good, Potter. I can see Moody’s been teaching you well.” “You’re a traitor,” Harry spat. “You sold us out to Voldemort. You sold us out to the one who killed your parents.” Clark licked her lips. “You got the two first right, but you’re wrong about the last one. Voldemort never killed my parents.” She took advantage of Harry’s surprise and fired several more spells at him. He just barely dodged them. “Liar! Moody said both your parents and grandparents were killed by Death Eaters!” “Oh, Harry, Harry,” she said condolingly. “You’re still going by appearances, aren’t you?” Harry stared at her for a moment before realising what she meant. “You’re not Luzita Clark?” Her icy grey eyes narrowed. “Took you long enough to figure it out. I thought you were smarter than that, Potter. Now you’ll suffer the consequences for your stupidity. Expelliarimus!” Harry threw up another shield, still moving in circles. She battered his shield with several curses, and just as it began to crack, Harry let it down and threw himself aside as a Reducto curse smashed the statue of Gertrude the Generous to pieces. “Who are you, then?” Harry shouted, dodging another barrage of spells. “What did you do with Clark?” “Oh, Luzita’s been dead for quite some time, now,” the woman said carelessly. “I’ll tell you who I am... It won’t matter anyway; the Dark Lord will finish you off soon enough.” Harry watched in horror as her features began to melt away. She became shorter, her brown hair turned blonde, and her face became straighter. Only her eyes remained the same. Icy gray. “Narcissa Malfoy,” Harry breathed, mouth open in shock. She smiled faintly. “Finally you guess the right answer.” “You...you’re… you’re a…” “I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘Metamorphagus,’ Potter,” she said. “I thought… I mean…” “You thought the only person in my family blessed with that particular talent was Nymphadora, did you?” “I…” “And that is why the Order is never going to win,” she finished. “They trust too easily, assume too little, and are far too careless with their information.” A second later, Harry felt two people seize his arms. He’d been so engrossed in her revelation, that he hadn’t heard two Death Eaters approach behind him… “Expeliarimus,” Narcissa said coldly, and Harry’s wand flew out of his hand. Harry struggled against the two men, but to no avail. Narcissa watched him with a satisfied look in her eye. “Transform, Potter, and you’re dead.” “What should we do with him?” Nott Senior asked the woman. “Stun him and take him to Headquarters,” she said lazily. “No, wait…I’ll stun him. It would give me great pleasure to see the little brat dead…but stunning will have to work for now.” Harry closed his eyes. He knew what was coming. “Stupefy,” she said loudly, and everything went black. When Harry awoke, the first two things he sensed were darkness and pain. Wherever he was, it must either be nighttime, or the room was light-proof. Harry couldn’t see a single pinpoint of light. He ached from head to foot. Groaning, Harry pushed himself into a sitting position and took a physical examination of himself. His left cheek was swollen, and the glass in one of his lenses was cracked. The rest of him seemed to be alright, except for one knee that wouldn’t stop throbbing. Harry struggled to remember what had happened. Where was he anyway? He slowly stood, keeping his weight on his left leg. A quick inspection of the room revealed that he was in a cell only ten feet square. In one corner, Harry found a locked door, probably made of some type of heavy metal. Other than that, the room was empty. Harry couldn’t tell how high the ceiling was, only that there were no windows within his reach. Finally he situated himself in the farthest corner from the door. The pockets of his jeans were empty and Harry noticed his school robes had disappeared, along with his wand. Harry crossed his arms and pulled his legs up to his chest to preserve heat. The cell was chilly, but not painfully cold–yet. If it was still daytime–Harry wasn’t exactly sure–come nighttime his thin shirt wouldn’t do much against the freezing November wind. How had he gotten here? What had happened? Harry leaned back against the wall and tried to remember. He’d been playing Quidditch… They’d won, and then Lupin had told him about his parents’ deaths. Harry closed his eyes as the shock of their murders washed over him again. Voldemort killed Dad, Bellatrix finished off my mum, he thought bitterly. I suppose I’ve got personal scores to settle with both of them now. He forced his mind to continue. He and Leila had been sitting in the Common Room, then he’d gone after Sirius. There was a Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade. Harry hoped Sirius was safe. Then Harry’s mind reeled as he remembered the discovery that Snape was the third person in the Aperio. He’d had apparated Sirius back to the gates… Oh yeah. He’d met Snape at the Hog’s Head the following day and they’d sorted things out. Then he had gone to the castle… Suddenly it all came flooding back: The Dark Mark hanging in the sky, the Death Eaters in Hogwarts, forcing Leila to hide, confronting Luzita Clark, discovering that she was really Narcissa Malfoy… Harry groaned again. He was being held by Death Eaters! Death Eaters who thought he was either the heir of Slytherin, or else he was hiding something important. How on earth was he going to get out of this one? Several hours passed, and finally Harry fell into a restless sleep. He awoke later–though he wasn’t sure how much later–to the creak of the door opening. Harry threw up both hands. The light was piercing into his skull. It felt like someone had set off a dozen fireworks inside his skull. Fortunately, the light was gone a moment later and the door closed with a clang. Harry opened his eyes again, wondering why someone had come and gone so quickly. Then it occurred to him that whoever had ventured into his cell might have left something behind. Body aching from the hard floor, Harry crawled in the direction of the door, one hand feeling the floor in front of him. Soon he found a jug and a plate. The jug was filled with water; Harry gulped it down. The plate was filled with a few crusts of bread, which Harry also ate, but with less enthusiasm. He knew he’d need his strength later on for whatever came. Time passed. Harry slept again, but when he woke, nothing had changed. Again he wondered why he was here. What did they want? Why hadn’t they questioned–or even less pleasant to think about–tortured him yet? What was going on? With no way to tell time, Harry could only assume that an entire day had passed when someone brought him another jug of water and a plate. When the door clanged shut, Hary dove for the food and water; his thirst and hunger had become painful. The bread was devoured almost immediately, but Harry forced himself to save most of the water for later. More hours went by. Slow, tedious, anxious hours, that seemed to crawl. Sometimes Harry wondered if they meant to leave him here forever. It was a frightening thought–in his Muggle primary school he’d read about men who’d gone crazy when they were isolated in complete darkness during World War II. Harry wondered how long it would take him to go crazy. The hours of waiting in the darkness, unsure of what was going to happen to him, were beginning to affect him. He even had the passing thought that maybe Azkaban was better than this. A third time, some unknown person brought him food. This time, Harry had made the water stretch until the next jug came. Again, he wondered how many more days would pass before he finally learned why he was here and what they wanted from him. He didn’t have long to wait. Not ten minutes later, the door clanged open unexpectedly, and again, Harry threw his arm over his eyes to block the light painfully piercing his head. But this time, the light didn’t go away. He could hear footsteps approaching, and suddenly he was being hauled to his feet by two men. “Time to go, kid,” one man growled. Harry was pulled out of his cell into the blinding light, and the door shut behind him. “Forgot how to walk, Potter?” the other man sneered, and jerked Harry roughly. Harry tried to make his legs work, but his right knee would no longer support his weight. He thought it might be sprained. His head was spinning, and even though his eyes were tightly closed, he could tell they were passing through quite a few corridors and up several staircases. When they finally reached a grim-looking door, Harry’s eyes were almost completely adjusted to the light. But when they entered the room, Harry almost wished he couldn’t see anything. The two men–presumably Death Eaters–dumped Harry unceremoniously on the stone floor, then left. Harry was alone in the severe room–alone with the one person he thought he might hate even more than Voldemort himself: Bellatrix Lestrange. “So nice of you to drop in, Potter,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You,” Harry snarled. “Get away from me, you hag!” She pouted. “I can see that I’m going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t I? Crucio!” Harry had not time to prepare, no warning at all. The curse struck him in the chest. He was unable to stop the cry that excaped his lips as the pain poured into his body, coursing through his veins. It felt as if his very bones were on fire. He writhed and trashed on the stone floor… He’d do anything to make it end. Anything would be better than this! Even death. Just kill me now, he silently pleaded. Finally, she lifted the curse. “That hurt, didn’t it, Potty? I really didn’t want to do that. Now just answer my questions.” Harry finally recovered his breath. “I would rather die.” Bellatrix leered at him. “We might be able to arrange that. But not until you answer some questions.” “Never!” She shook her head. “Tut, tut, that’s not the right attitude. I guess we’ll just have to loosen your tongue somehow. Crucio!” This time, Harry had seen her wand flick and had braced himself. He bit his lip until blood came as the waves of agony racked his body, but not once did he cry out. This seemed to make Bellatrix even more angry, but she finally lifted the curse. “Ready to talk, now?” “No.” “Oh, but you will be soon…by the time I’m done with you!” “How am I supposed to answer your questions?” Harry shot at her. “I don’t even know why I’m here.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you?” Harry didn’t reply. Could she read minds? He hoped not; if she knew Legilimency like Snape, he’d really be in trouble. “How’d you learn Parseltongue?” The question threw Harry off guard. Why did they want to know about his being a Parselmouth? Oh, yeah. They thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. He thought about not answering, but decided to tell the truth whenever he could. “I’ve been able to speak it ever since I was little.” Bellatrix’s eyes widened. “Why are you a Parselmouth?” Harry shrugged. “Dunno. I guess I was born with it.” Let them think I’m the Heir of Slytherin. As long as they don’t find out about the Aperio. And the Prophecy. And Snape. “What are you hiding?” What a question. Just about everything, Harry thought. “Nothing,” he replied. “You’re lying!” she screamed, working herself into a frenzy. She put the Crucio on Harry a third time, but lifted it quickly. She wants information. “Where is Remus Lupin?” This question also startled Harry. What did the Death Eaters want with Lupin? Did they know that Regulus and Ginny were hiding at his house? Harry knew what would happen if they captured Regulus–he’d suffer a long, painful death for his treachery. He didn’t want to think about what they’d do to Ginny. “Gee, I don’t know,” Harry replied sarcastically. “Have you tried his house?” “You know where he is!” “No, I don’t,” Harry insisted impatiently. “If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.” She cried out in fury. Harry thought she was going to Crucio him again, but she didn’t. She’s probably been ordered not to torture me into insanity. “Where does he live?” Did they suspect that he was Lupin’s Secret-keeper? “Haven’t the foggiest idea.” “You know! You’re lying to me! Tell me where he lives!” “How should I know? I’ve never been to his house!” The last part was the truth. Harry was surprised at how easily he was lying. Unfortunately, Bellatrix wasn’t easily fooled. “Liar! Crucio!” A half hour later, Harry was barely conscious as the two burley Death Eaters dragged him back to this cell. This time, though, he actually welcomed the darkness that closed in around him like a blanket. He lay on the stone floor, unable to move from where his escorts had dumped him, every bone in his body aching painfully form the aftereffects of one too many Crucios. Most of the questions had been about Lupin: Where was he? Where did he live? What were his haunts? What was the relationship between him and Harry? Harry couldn’t understand it; why were they so interested in Lupin? Had the Death Eaters guessed Harry’s connection with the werewolf? What did they want with him? Would they try to capture him as they had Harry? Had they guessed that Harry was his Secret-keeper? Maybe. Bellatrix had automatically assumed that Harry knew where Lupin lived. But how did the Death Eaters know? Had Sirius been captured? He’d been the only other one Harry had told besides McGonagall. Besides the Lupin-related questions, Bellatrix had asked Harry a lot of personal questions: About his Parselmouth abilities, about his other Defence skills, his involvement with the order, his rescue of Ginny from Azkaban, etc., etc. Good grief, if he was the Heir of Slytherina and his magical powers had suddenly multiplied on his seventeenth birthday like the Death Eaters seemed to think, he would’ve escaped by now. Questions, questions, always questions, but no answers. Exhausted from the ordeal, Harry fell into a restless sleep. Harry soon lost track of the days. Now, he dreaded the clang of the opening door, never knowing whether the visitor was bringing him food or taking him to another interrogation. Every day he was dragged to the same room and tortured for information. Some days, he was questioned more than once. Fortunately, it wasn’t always Bellatrix. Harry much preferred the times when Dolohov, Avery, or McNair acted as his inquisitor. For one, they quickly became bored with the Crucio curse and resorted to Muggle methods–kicking and punching, mainly. As long as they didn’t pull his fingernails out, or roast him over a low fire, Harry would gladly take the Muggle tortures over the Cruciatus Curse any day. The Muggle methods came at a cost, though. Harry was pretty sure several of his ribs were broken; one eye was swollen shut, and the rest of his body felt like one big bruise. Harry had discovered days before that it was far too taxing to hold in all of his cries during the beatings; only when Bellatrix was present did he bite his lip and refuse to make a sound when she put the Crucio curse on him repeatedly. He refused to give her the satisfaction. He would never show signs of weakness in front of her if he could help it. When she was around, Harry had to fight to stay in control of himself. She mocked him whenever he could, calling Lily a Mudblood and telling him how his mother had begged for mercy before her death. The only way Harry kept himself from lashing out at her–an action that he knew would only cause himself more pain in the long run–was by dwelling on the sweet revenge he’d have on her one day…one day when he had a wand and she didn’t. He didn’t care whether it was this world’s Bellatrix or the other world’s…both deserved to die horrible deaths, as far as he was concerned. He had still not figured out why the Death Eaters wanted Lupin so badly–they were keeping that information to themselves. They continued to badger Harry about the location of Luipn’s house, and every day he avidly refused to tell them what they wanted to know. But every day, Harry felt himself growing weaker. Every night when they threw him back into his dark prison, it was a little harder to lift the jug of water to his mouth for a few precious swallows of water. When would they give up? Harry’s resolve was still strong–he would die before he gave away Lupin’s location. Betraying Lupin would also mean handing over Regulus and Ginny to the Death Eaters as well. But Harry wondered sometimes… How much more could he take before he broke? The Death Eaters were relentless. That was what he was thinking about as he lay on the cold floor one night trying to ignore the pain that was keeping him from sleeping. Harry was used to pain–he’d been in more Quidditch accidents than he cared to remember. But this was different. Every time he breathed, it felt as if someone was pushing a dagger into his chest. He shivered, trying to ignore the cold chill that made the room feel like an icebox. Suddenly without warning, the door swung open. Harry closed his eyes to the light, not having the energy to lift an arm. His stomach filled with dread. What were they doing here again? “You’ve got a visitor, Potter,” Dolohov sneered. Harry gritted his teeth as Dolohov and Avery lifted him up and roughly dragged him through the corridors. This time, though, they took different turns. Finally the three reached another cell. Dolohov pulled out his wand and unlocked the door. He and Avery roughly pushed Harry inside. Harry hit the floor and lay there, completely drained of the energy needed to push himself up. There was a gasp from nearby. Then someone whispered, “Oh, dear god. What have they done to you, Harry?” Gentle hands were pushing Harry over onto his back. Harry sucked in his breath sharply as the person touched a sensitive spot on his side. “Harry! Harry, can you hear me?” With effort, Harry opened the eye that wasn’t swollen shut, and what he saw made all his hopes vanish. Remus Lupin was leaning over him. |
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