The Gale

~¤~The Gale~¤~

Sirius didn’t know what guided him, but he sprinted to the Hospital Wing. He turned into human form, without thinking and ran in. Madam Pomfrey was leaning over a patient and muttering to herself. Sirius looked around and noticed that there only seemed to be one patient. He cleared his throat and watched Madam Pomfrey turn. She gasped and dropped her wand, before remembering that Sirius Black wasn’t the murderer he was accused to be. She sighed heavily, glaring.

“Sirius Black, you cannot just barge in here! Professor Dumbledore is in a very critical condition, and unless he has my full attention, he could very well die!”

That stopped him. Sirius’ mouth opened and closed until he finally found his voice again. “Wha--?” Madam Pomfrey’s face crinkled in concern. “We found him on the grounds, stabbed. By a muggle blade by the looks of it, though at some point magic must have interfered, for I’m having trouble stopping the flow of blood…”

Sirius went pale as a sheet, taking a few steps forward; he looked down at Dumbledore’s calm and serene face. The unthinkable had happened. Sirius choked down a sob as he stared at his mentor. Hardly aware of Madam Pomfrey doing her best to help.

~¤~

Ron opened his eyes slowly, reaching up a hand to try and feel the bump on his head. He felt something weighing him down and glanced at his hands. Steel chains had been clamped over his wrists, pinning him not too far from the wall. He blinked and took in his surroundings, noticing for the first time that he was no longer at the hospital.

The room around him was small and dark. The only light coming from a torch that hung some feet out of his reach. The air was cold and damp, clinging to his heavy eyelids and making the wound on the side of his head sting. There were no corners, only the single wall that spun around him in a circle. The floor was hard and concrete, leading half way across. The other half of the floor was completely gone, as if someone had torn it up only to find a black void beneath it. Ron started to panic as he looked up, seeing no roof, only an endless tunnel that reached up to the invisible sky. Fear sank in and he started to struggle frantically, only managing to knock his elbow painfully hard into the wall. He swore, still struggling.

Not too far away, beyond a hidden door, was another cell much like Ron’s. The walls were the same circular shape, and the air was just as cold and damp. The only difference was the ceiling. It was been lowered down to a point where not even a child could stand without hunching down. There was no light whatsoever and it seemed the perfect place to torment anyone with claustrophobia. The person that had been put in the room lay on the floor, chords binding his hands tightly together in front of him. Inky black hair splayed over the hard floor, and emerald green eyes wide and staring. Harry took a deep breath, wondering briefly if he had gone blind. He reached up his hands to try and push the ceiling up a bit. Even though it was a good two feet above him, just moving his hands sent agony raging through his injured arm. Someone had removed his bandages, he realised, though that thought did not stay long in his mind. His hands touched the ceiling gently, and biting back his cries of pain he desperately pushed against it. When it didn’t so much as budge, he let his hands fall and took a deep breath, letting it out with a hiss as his ribs ached in protest.

~¤~

“Is he going to make it?” Sirius asked worriedly. Madam Pomfrey looked up briefly and shrugged.

“He is the greatest wizard I have ever met. If anyone can fight through this, he can. So have hope. Don’t give up on him just yet.” Sirius nodded, letting her words calm him slightly. He wondered if he should go back to Harry. But something told him not to…after all, Voldemort couldn’t possibly know that Harry was in that particular hospital…could he? No, he thought to himself, there’s no way he could know…we would have seen if he had any spies lurking around…Harry’s going to be fine… He repeated the last five words over and over in his mind, occasionally switching the names from Harry to Dumbledore.  Madam Pomfrey still took no notice of him, going about her business.

~¤~

Ron slumped back against the wall again, glaring at his shoes. He wished he knew where he was and, more importantly, where his friends were. Horrible thoughts seemed to fill his mind over and over again, but he refused to think of any of them as possibilities. His head snapped up suddenly. He was sure he had heard something. Listening carefully, he realised that it was someone jingling some keys or something of the sort. His heart stopped briefly and he watched someone open a door he didn’t know was there. Two hooded death eaters walked in, carrying an hysterical Hermione between them. The gag that had been roughly tied over her mouth muffled her screams. She bit down on it angrily as chains were fastened onto her wrists and then the wall beside Ron. One of the death eaters undid the gag and laughingly, stepped out of the room with his companion, closing the door swiftly behind them.

“Hermione? Are you allright? Did they hurt you at all?” Hermione’s head swerved round to face Ron, relief showing plainly in her eyes.

“No…no, Ron, they didn’t hurt me…” She glanced around, a frown gathering on her face.

“Where’s Harry?”

The question hung in the air. Unanswered.

~¤~

The dark lord paced in his throne room, malicious glee making his eyes glow. He had been waiting for 14 years, and now, finally, the Potter boy was going to pay. Voldemort tried to decide if he should just kill them all and get it over with, or if he should draw out their deaths…and make them suffer, like he had all those years ago.

His hatred building, he summoned his servant, Wormtail, to the room.

“Y-yes, m-m-master?”

“Ah. Wormtail. Now comes the time for you to prove your loyalty. I will have Harry Potter brought up here within the next five minutes…have Lucius and Goyle bring him. Do tell them not to harm him…too much” 

Wormtail stepped out of the thrown room, bowing as evil laughter poured over him and into the otherwise still night.

~¤~

Hermione tried to pull herself forcefully away from the wall, struggling helplessly against the chains. Ron watched her sleepily, not even bothering to tell her it was pointless to struggle. She seemed to find that out for herself a while later. Hope was draining away rapidly and Hermione soon stilled, sobbing softly.

“Try to sleep or something…there’s really not much else we can do here…” Ron told her, trying to sound comforting. Hermione nodded, sniffling. Though they were both exhausted, neither did sleep for a long time.

~¤~

Harry was starting to really panic. He could have sworn the walls were closing in on him. And though it was probably just his imagination, he was sure that there wasn’t enough air to last him five minutes. Therefore, it came as a relief when a small trapdoor was opened somewhere near him. A head peeked up and rested its regarding gaze on him.

“Have you got him yet?” A voice called from somewhere below them. The head ducked down and shouted an answer. A string of swear words and a loud slap later, a different head appeared in the opening. One hand reached out and grabbed Harry’s leg.

Paralysed with fear and anger, Harry stayed still and silent until he was thrown through the trapdoor and out of the room. He hit the floor hard, groaning in pain as he felt a tooth crack. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, and he coughed, making a small puddle form in front of him. He barely had time to register his shock before being dragged off down the winding halls. All the while, the burning in his scar increased.

~¤~

”Harry Potter…so you have returned to our midst” The hauntingly familiar voice cut through Harry’s ears like a sharp knife. He hadn’t even noticed when he had been dragged into the throne room, in fact, he hadn’t been aware of anything until he heard Voldemort’s voice.

“So long we have been waiting for you…and after our last meeting…” here Voldemort paused, though Harry couldn’t clearly see why. He had his eyes shut, not really wanting to witness what was going on around him.

“I must say, you did anger me, Harry Potter. Yes, I was very angry. But now, after these fourteen years, I see. I will not kill you straight away. You will suffer, Harry Potter, and you will not survive. Crucio!”

Over the pain, Harry was sure he heard other words being said, though making sense of them was completely impossible. Agony seeped through his very veins and he knew he could no longer stay conscious.

~¤~

Sirius shook his head free of sleep and stared at the still face of Albus Dumbledore. There had been no change at all, and even as night fell, there had been no signs of recovery. Madam Pomfrey had long since given up, remarking that it was pointless to try. Sirius had been very angry at that. He must have yelled at her for an hour before she finally gave in and said she’d try again in the morning. He still wasn’t completely satisfied though.

Complicated thoughts kept running through his brain about how the school would be able to start without a headmaster to run it…and also why he hadn’t received an answer owl from his best friend yet.

That was one thing that had bothered him an awful lot the last few hours. He had sent an owl to Remus, just to check up on him. But after receiving no answer, he had become quite worried. He wondered how much more worry he could handle before passing out. Not much… he decided as he slumped in his chair, into the well-needed sleep he had so longed for.

~¤~

The first thing Harry realised when he woke up, was the fact that he couldn’t breathe. He gently rolled onto his side and coughed. Once more, he was greeted with blood being dislodged from his throat. He was too tired to be alarmed, and he felt too sick to care.

Bringing his knees up to his chest, he tried to hug them with his bound hands, realising that he was, once again, in his cell. The only thing keeping him from breaking down completely was probably thinking about Ron and Hermione. He wondered where they were, and he hoped with every fibre of his being that they were okay.

He shivered, the cold starting to really get to him. Another cough had him curling up into a tighter ball. He suddenly felt very, very ill. Opening his eyes, he stared at the dark wall, trying to make his vision clear, but without his glasses, there was no hope of that.

One salty tear splashed to the floor without him realising it, another followed it closely, leaving a clear line across his otherwise dirty cheek and nose. Something crumbled inside him, and his hope started to ebb away, until he finally fell into a fitful slumber, barely breathing.

Perhaps, if Harry had known that his friends were currently being terrorised by Death Eaters, he would not have given in to sleep so easily. But not knowing this, he was faced with the dream reality of their turmoil.

~¤~

“Where’s Harry?! What have you done to him!?” Ron cried. He knew even before seeing Hermione’s shocked face, that he was making a huge mistake. But he had had enough. Enough of being ignored and left alone. Enough of just sitting in a cell and waiting for death. He was downright furious.

The death eater that stood before them laughed slightly, seemingly amused by Ron’s actions. He raised his wand slowly, as if trying to prepare them for what was to come. But Ron took no notice.

“I swear, if you’ve done anything, then I’ll kill you! Do you hear me?! I’ll kill—“

“Crucio!”  It was strange, to hear someone go straight from angry ravings to agonised screams, and yet, it wasn’t unexpected. He had been asking for it…Hermione winced, starting to struggle weakly, hating the sound of Ron’s pain echoing through her mind, it was like she had been put under the curse too. Her struggle stopped short, however when the curse was lifted. She shrank back into the wall, wishing it would swallow her whole. It didn’t.

“The master has told me not to dispose of you until the Potter boy is ready to see it happen. I suggest you thank your lucky stars for that…for it’s the last time they will help any of you. The dark lord will rise again, and you will all be either dead or at his mercy.” He glared at them through the mask, as if waiting for a response.

Ron was still shaking from the cruciatus curse, not wanting to experience it again he kept silent. Hermione felt like saying something, but the words died in her throat before she could so much a open her mouth.

The death eater turned and left their cell, promising them that he would be back. As soon as the door was closed, the torch above them flickered slightly, making shadows dance around them and the void above and below them, seem deeper.

Hermione’s frightened sobs broke the silence, soon accompanied by Ron’s chains clanking as he moved into a more comfortable position.

 ~¤~

Arthur Weasley walked home from work that day. Not bothering to Apparate. His mind was whirling with all the information he had just been told. He didn’t know how on earth he was going to break the news to Molly…as he reached the Burrow, he paused, wringing his hands nervously. What should he say? What could he say? Taking a deep breath, he sorted through his thoughts, deciding what to tell and what not to tell. He took a step back in surprise, however, when the door was flung open to reveal Molly Weasley herself. “Oh, Arthur! What’s been happening?” He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He told her everything he knew. About Ron, Hermione and Harry going missing and the hospital being attacked and burnt to the ground by Death Eaters About the Sirius Black sighting near Hogwarts and the situation with Dumbledore. Everything he had heard that day from the ministry came flying back at him. He didn’t stop talking until Molly finally pulled him into a fierce embrace. No words were spoken, but the feelings of worry and despair hung thickly in the air, saying more than words ever could.

~¤~

The cell door was opened again. Ron and Hermione stared in defiance as their chains were detached from the wall. Sharing puzzled glances, they tried to make sense of the matter. Three Death Eaters entered, one pointing his wand at them in warning. The other two pulled Ron and Hermione to their feet, deliberately tightening the grasps they had on their arms.

“The master wants you moved”

Hermione whimpered slightly, not really wanting to know where they were being taken. Ron tried to catch her eye, but the death eater holding him had already started walking out of the cell, he had no other choice but to get moving.

“Where are you taking us?” he heard Hermione ask timidly. There was no answer. Either the death eaters hadn’t heard her, or else they just didn’t want to tell them. Dread started to fill the hole in his stomach that had grown form lack of food, not making him feel in the least bit better. He tried to formulate a plan for escape, but everything just seemed hopeless.

They rounded a corner and walked past many doors, each one with a strange symbol etched into its concrete surface. The death eaters seemed to know exactly where they were going, for in no time at all, they stopped outside one particular door that stood out slightly from the rest. In a matter of seconds, Hermione and Ron found themselves chained to yet another wall, and it was only when the death eaters left that they had a chance to look around.

The new cell was different from the one they had previously been in. It was spacious and squared, with the ceiling lowered slightly more than necessary. There were no windows and no torches, yet the room was light.

“Ron? Hermione? What are you doing here?” rasped a voice that sounded strangely familiar. Turning their heads slightly, they were able to see the other two occupants of the cell. One that they recognized and one that they didn’t.

“Professor Lupin?!”  Indeed. He was chained to the wall much in the same way they had been, though it was clear that he had been there far longer. His robes hung off his thin form limply, stained with blood and indicating that there were wounds they could not see. He looked ill and tired, slumped forward as if all strength had left him. Though at their acknowledgement of his presence, he did try to smile.

“Never did I imagine they’d capture you…how on earth did you get caught? And where’s Harry? Is he still with his relatives?” 

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other in confusion. “We were at the hospital, remember? You were there two days ago with us…you know, after the storm” Lupin shook his head, frowning deeply. Something didn’t make sense.

“Impossible…I have been here for well over a week now…Arabella was brought in a few days ago too…” he gestured to the unconscious woman chained up beside him.

“But…this doesn’t make sense…you were there! With Sirius!” Hermione didn’t have time to hear Lupin’s reply. The door was forcefully opened once more.

~¤~

Harry was barely conscious by the time the death eaters were finished with him. They had done something to his eyes, he knew that much, for all he could see was red and black. He hurt all over, the aches from the cruciatus curse only worsened by the amount of times the spell was used. A small voice in the back of his head kept trying to tell him that coughing up blood was not a good sign, but he tried his best not to listen…it hurt to think.

Now he was being dragged somewhere. The cold rocks that dug into his back every so often were a dead give away. His head banged into a wall painfully as he was thrown in somewhere. Chains suddenly weighed down his wrists. He slumped to the ground, barely registering the panicky voices around him, calling his name.

~¤~

Severus Snape pulled his mask over his face once more, feeling the mark on his arm burn even darker. Peter Pettigrew stood beside him, shaking uncontrollably in the presence of Voldemort.

“My death eaters,” began the dark lord, raising his hands high above his head as if to welcome home an army.

“Over recent days, I must say I have been disappointed by most of you for various reasons.” Here, the dark lord glanced at Pettigrew, his malice making the balding man step back in fear.

“Though, through careful planning and action, we have managed to accomplish our greatest goals. Namely the demise of our two favourite heroes…Harry Potter and, of course, Albus Dumbledore. Though not dead quite yet, they shouldn’t last long under the circumstances. I have made sure of that.” Snape noticed the dark lord fiddle with the strange necklace as the words were spoken. He made a mental note to find out what it was so he could help the headmaster and the boy. Voldemort continued speaking, occasionally sending a death eater forward to be punished. Snape noticed Pettigrew fidgeting nervously, he wondered why the man was so nervous. If the dark lord already had dealt with him, then there was no need for it to happen again…unless it truly had been a disastrous mistake the man had managed to get himself into. Snape sneered. Pettigrew was widely known among the ranks for his stupidity and clumsiness.

Snape was brought out of his musings quite quickly as the dark lord turned to him. Straightening his back, he awaited his share of pain. But none came. The dark lord was regarding him silently, as if thinking. Then, without hesitation, Voldemort raised his wand and uttered the last spell Snape wanted to hear.

“Avada Kedavra!”

~¤~