Ransom

Chapter 6: Return

"This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper."

--T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men

***

Jack woke to glaring sunlight and a very strange feeling in his stomach. Disoriented, he stumbled out of bed and stopped to look at the clock. It was 10:00 A.M., and, he discovered as he looked around him, he had no idea where he was. A hotel, obviously, but which? And how did he get here?

He mindlessly set to the task of gathering his things, hoping that they would provide some clue as to what had happened last night. His trusty black bag had clothes, maps, and a coil of rope for some reason - perhaps he had decided to climb a mountain? His toothbrush and things were at the sink. There was nothing at the little wooden table in the corner of the room except strips of rope, which he threw into the waste bin hurriedly as he searched for his pocket knife -

It was gone.

Jack took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to still the beginnings of panic. What could have happened to it, what could he have done that would cause him to lose it or leave it somewhere? It was the only thing that he had from his father, and -

Two faces flashed suddenly in his mind's eye: blond hair and blue eyes and a chubby face, and bespectacled green eyes and black hair and pale skin.

What?

Harry. Dudley.

Jack reeled as a barrage of images assaulted him. Red dress money frightened boy struggling scar green shirt ransom twin guards McDonald's love care conscience son Dudley Harry Harry Harry -

He gasped sharply as he realized what he had done. He had taken two boys, had kidnapped them and taken them away from their comfort and home and friends and family, and now their lives were in his hands. Their lives were in his hands, and if they got hurt or killed then he would be responsible and there'd be a death on his hands. And he'd really be charged with murder and sent to prison and he'd have no excuse -

He had to find them. He had to take them back. He had to apologize.

They weren't at the table where he had put them; they must have escaped, cut their bonds with his knife and taken it, and run away. But to where?

A quick glance at the window answered his question.

Wrenching open the door, Jack hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and nearly bowled over one of the maids as he dashed down to the lobby and out to the woods, seeking his wayward captives.

***

Harry lay awake as the pale grey light of daybreak seeped through the thick canopy above his head. He and Dudley had run for a while, but the lack of sleep, coupled with a growing hunger, had forced them to stop and take a rest. Dudley had collapsed on the ground and fallen asleep almost immediately, but Harry, restless with anxiety, had settled for staring at the sky while keeping an ear out for intruders. Occasionally punctuated by Dudley's loud snores, the night had passed fairly peacefully, and Harry felt safe for the time being. No animals had tried to attack them; his scar had not hurt at all; he had seen no sign of Jack. It was simply him and Dudley, spending a night out in the forest.

Sighing, Harry curled up on his side and stared at the tree trunks around them. He had no clear idea of where to go or what to do: he didn't have any Muggle money with him to pay any sort of fare, and he didn't have his wand, so he couldn't summon the Knight Bus. Besides, all of his wizarding money was locked in his trunk to prevent the Dursleys from getting their hands on it, so he wouldn't have been able to pay for the Knight Bus regardless.

Dudley's loud yawn jerked Harry back to reality, and he sat up to look at his cousin. "Sleep well?" he asked.

Dudley made a noise of assent, stretching. Harry looked away; even if Dudley had lost weight during the past year, it still wasn't pleasant to see his bare stomach. "Are you hungry?" Harry asked. "I don't have any money, but I guess we could...I dunno...scrounge..."

"I've never scrounged before," said Dudley, speaking as if this had never occurred to him. "Have you?"

"Me?" Harry asked. "No."

"Oh." Dudley sounded surprised. Harry twisted to look at him indignantly. "Well..." Dudley stammered, "I just thought..."

"Right," said Harry, raising his eyebrows. He stood up abruptly, brushing leaves off his clothes. "I'm going to take a look around and see where we are," he said. "Stay here and rest for a bit." He looked at Dudley searchingly. "You'll be all right here?"

Dudley nodded.

"Don't do anything stupid," Harry said, turning around, and he walked away in search of a road.

***

Apparently, thought Jack, shaking his head disapprovingly, Harry and Dudley didn't know the definition of "incognito."

He had been walking through the forest for about an hour now, following the very obvious trail that the boys had left behind. They had traveled in a relatively straight line that always proceeded in the same direction: away from the hotel, and away from him. It wasn't that that annoyed him, though; it was the fact that they hadn't even bothered to cover their trail. Traveling in a straight path was quite all right. After all, a straight line was approximately three times less in distance than traveling in a circle. If there had been one thing he'd learned in maths, that had been it: C = 2_r, or _d...

He shook his head, clearing it of inane symbols and formulas. Right now, he needed to concentrate on finding the boys. He didn't know how far they could travel with their physique; both were fairly healthy, had no injuries, and could survive on little sleep (couldn't all teenagers?) They didn't have a food source, but then, what did food matter when you were trying to escape? It didn't.

Jack grew more and more irritated with himself as he absently pursued their trail. How could he have been so stupid as to kidnap two boys just for the sake of money? How could he have forgotten all the lessons that his mother had taught him as a child? There were more important things than money, and there were more important people than himself. He'd probably driven the boys' friends mad with worry by now, not to mention the Dursleys. Even if they were repulsive and greedy, they were still parents, and they still cared about their son.

Something caught the corner of Jack's eye, and he stopped abruptly. Between the trees he saw a flash of gold, illuminated by the open sunlight. Upon closer inspection, he found that it belonged to the hair on top of Dudley Dursley's head. Dudley himself was sitting on the ground, leaning against the back of a tree at the edge of a small glade. He seemed to be asleep.

Jack took a hesitant step forward. He didn't want to disturb Dudley's sleep, but he also needed to find Harry...

Well, Harry would surely come back for Dudley, wherever he was. The previous escape attempt had proved that much. All Jack had to do was get to the spot where Dudley was (preferably without waking Dudley up, as he'd no desire to wait in awkward silence), and wait for Harry. He had water in his bag, so there was no risk of dehydration.

He had only made a few strides forward before a shrill scream rent the air.

"HARRRRRRRY!"

Dudley appeared to be hyperventilating as Jack stepped toward him. "HARRRRRY!" he screamed again.

That was a sure way to get Harry over there. "Relax, Dudley, I've come to take you back -" Jack winced as Dudley let out yet another scream. "Stop screaming, you're going to split my ears open -"

"Jack!"

Jack let out a sigh of relief and turned to see Harry stride into the small clearing. "Harry," he breathed.

Harry eyed him warily. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to take you home," said Jack, and he continued in a rush. "I'm terribly sorry about this - this - everything. Just please let me see that you're back home safely. It's the least I can do. I'm so sorry."

"Er -" Harry looked taken aback. "Go? Now?"

Before Jack had a chance to answer, a voice came out of nowhere. "Don't, Harry. Don't do it."

Jack started. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

"Yeah," answered Harry, looking around nervously. "Who's there?" he called out.

As if on cue, a dozen slim pieces of wood of various shapes and sizes emerged and formed a circle surrounding them. The people that held them followed shortly after. All of them were dressed in long black robes, and wore bowler hats on tops of their heads. Jack stared in silent astonishment.

Behind him, Dudley let out a frightened squeak, and hit the ground with a thump.

Harry let out a strangled noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "Erm, Jack," he said, "could you check Dudley's pulse?"

Obviously Harry knew what was happening.

Jack knelt down next to Dudley, three wooden sticks following his every move, and one of the weirdoes (or, to put it politely, strange people) went toward Harry, lowered his stick, and greeted him. Jack resisted the urge to stand in front of Harry protectively as the two began to talk. What if the man hurt Harry? What if he were deceiving the boy? Harry was Jack's charge, not anyone else's! If any of these people dared hurt him....

Stop it, he scolded himself. Harry is his own person. He can take care of himself.

Right.

Turning his attention to the unconscious boy in front of him, Jack placed two fingers on Dudley's wrist and began to feel for a pulse.

***

"Glad to see you're not hurt, Harry," said Remus Lupin quietly, coming forward from the circle of wizards.

"I'm all right. I'm fine," Harry replied, trying to keep his voice level. Some part of him found the situation hilarious, though he did not know why. "How did you...I mean, what are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore sent us," answered Lupin. "We're your guard."

"My - guard?"

"To see that you leave here safely," said Lupin.

"Where are we going?"

"The Dursleys."

The Dursleys?" Harry echoed in alarm. "But -"

"It's safest there," said Lupin. He held up his hand to prevent any more questions. "We've taken care of it, don't worry."

Harry doubted very much that the wizards had taken care of it enough to keep him from being punished, but he simply nodded.

"Man's definitely a Muggle, then?" Lupin inquired lowly, gazing at Jack with interest. "You didn't sense any spells or curses of any kind?"

"No," said Harry. "How long have you been here?" Harry asked. "And what are you going to do about Jack?"

"We'll Memory Charm him and send him on his merry way," growled Alastor Moody, coming to Lupin's side with his magical eye rolling crazily. "Don't look so worried, Potter, none of us is named Gilderoy Lockhart." Harry grinned slightly.

"We just found you today," Lupin said. "Had to work with the Muggles, pretend we were special detectives so that we would be in charge of your case."

"The police?" said Harry, wondering just how a wizard could work with the Muggle law enforcement without revealing that he had magical powers.

"We've got some Muggle contacts," said Moody. "They put in a word here and there, said we were very 'reliable private investigators.'"

"In addition to looking for you, we had to clean up the trail that Jack left behind," Lupin said. "It seemed that he talked to quite a number of people on his way here."

"Does that mean -?"

"We did Memory Charms on all of them," Moody interrupted. "Inconvenience, if you ask me, but we can't risk anyone finding out about you."

"But - it was on the Muggle news," Harry said. "The whole country knows about us. All the Muggles."

"They know about your cousin, but not you," Lupin said. "That was our work. If word got out that Harry Potter was somewhere out in the country, wandless and unprotected, then Death Eaters would be all over the country looking for you, killing Muggles in the process."

"Don't they do that anyway?" Harry muttered darkly.

"The point is, Potter," cut in Moody, "we've prepared a Portkey for you and your cousin. Get him over here, and we'll leave."

"My cousin fainted," Harry told him.

"He did, did he?" queried Moody. "It's to be expected. Get the Muggle away from him, then, and we'll travel with him unconscious. It'll be better for him physically."

Harry nodded. Taking a deep breath, he went over to Jack and Dudley, and knelt down next to them. Jack glanced at him and said, "Dudley's pulse is fine. He'll just have a nasty bump on the head when he wakes up."

"Thanks," Harry said. "Er..."

"You know them?" Jack asked, taking a quick look over his shoulder. "Are they your friends?"

"Well...yeah. Kind of. They're going to take me and Dudley back..." Harry looked back at Moody and Lupin, who were both watching the exchange interestedly. "I need to take Dudley," Harry said quickly.

"Well then," said Jack, creating a space between him and Dudley, "he's all yours."

Harry grabbed one of Dudley's arms and began to rise.

"Wait, Harry," said Jack. Harry stopped mid-turn. "I need my knife back."

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the pocket knife. It was a small thing with a black handle, similar to the one Sirius had given him last Christmas. He briefly considered tossing it to Jack, but instead knelt down again and handed it to him personally.

Jack gave him a grateful smile. "Goodbye, Harry," he said, grasping Harry's shoulder briefly. "Good luck."

"'Bye," said Harry awkwardly. He stood up and turned away, seizing Dudley's arm and heaving his body onto his back before he made his way over to Moody and Lupin. "I'm ready," he said.

"On the count of three," growled Moody, holding out an old gum wrapper. Lupin and Harry touched their fingers to it. "Three - two - one..."

Harry felt a familiar jerk at his navel, and the world disappeared in a rush of color and sound.

***

Jack buried his face in his knee as Harry walked away from him, dragging Dudley's bulk. He vaguely thought about helping Harry carry his cousin, but decided that Harry was big enough to handle it and that there were enough people there to carry both boys, if need be. He didn't know how long he remained in that position, half on the ground and half not as he tried to hide his face from the world, but when someone tapped him on the shoulder and he stood up, Harry and Dudley were already gone.

"Good afternoon," said the man in a deep voice. He was one of the strange people, but he wasn't holding a stick or looking at Jack suspiciously. The two remaining ones were, though.

"Hello," said Jack politely. "Are you going to question me?"

The black man nodded, his gold hoop earring flashing in the sunlight. "My name's Kingsley Shacklebolt," he said, holding out his hand. Jack shook it. "We'll just start with the basic ones," said Shacklebolt, taking out a pen and a pad of paper. "Name, age, date of birth, things like that."

Jack nodded. "All right."

"What is your full name?"

"Jack Gareth Brennar."

"Date of birth?"

"August 24, 1963."

"Parents' names?"

"Bernadette and Peter."

"Place of residence?"

"None, currently. Oh, the hotel, I guess." He gave the room number.

"Why did you kidnap Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley from 4 Privet Drive two days ago?"

"I wanted to get a ransom of ninety-thousand pounds from Dudley's parents. Harry...that was a mistake, I mean, we weren't supposed to do it. I didn't even know he existed, but we happened to look in his room and I thought that he'd be good for more ransom, so I just...took him."

"Who is 'we?'"

"Oh, me and my two guards. They're staying the room next to mine." He didn't want to say that he paid them to help him.

Shacklebolt jotted this down, nodding. "You didn't hear any voices telling you to take Harry?" he asked. "No outside entities in your mind? How about feeling like you had no control over what you were doing?"

"Erm...no," said Jack, giving Shacklebolt a funny look. "I was definitely aware of what I was doing, and I heard no voices ordering me to do anything."

"Did you meet or see anyone prior to the kidnapping who was dressed like us, or who wore a white mask?"

Jack thought. He had gone to London with the guards, and they had walked around a bit and eaten some food, taking in a view of the Thames River, but they hadn't seen anyone really strange. Well, not any stranger than the regularly strange people in London, and Shacklebolt and his crew were definitely stranger than the regularly strange. "No," Jack answered.

"Can you describe to me what you did prior to the kidnapping?"

Jack did.

"How about the kidnapping itself? How did you infiltrate the Dursleys' home?"

Jack bit back a smile at the use of the word "infiltrate," and answered, describing in detail what they did. He cringed at some parts, wondering how on Earth he could have been so stupid, but managed to finish the account.

"And - this is a personal question," said Shacklebolt, shoving the pen and paper into a pocket of his long robes. "Do you like Harry?"

"How do you mean?" said Jack warily.

"Do you have any personal affection toward him?" Shacklebolt rephrased.

Jack exhaled slowly. "Yes," he answered, after a moment's hesitation. "I love him as I would love a son."

"Thank you, sir," said Shacklebolt firmly. He held out his hand once more, and Jack shook it.

"What are you going to do with me?" asked Jack, eyeing the two wooden sticks behind Shacklebolt.

"Just close your eyes for a moment," said Shacklebolt.

All of Jack's defenses sprang up, and alarm bells rang in his head. "Why?" he asked. His hand inched toward the pocket where he had put his knife.

"We're not going to kill you," said Shacklebolt, holding up his hands.

Jack looked at him suspiciously, but closed his eyes anyway. He heard movement in the background, and strained his ears for any shifty noises. None; there was no crackle of crushed dry leaves, no click of a loading gun, no swish of an opening knife. Only the word, "Obliviate."

And the world went black.

***

Harry and Dudley landed with a crash in the flowerbeds of 4 Privet Drive, eliciting a familiar shriek from Petunia and a loud bellow from Vernon Dursley. "I've had enough of you freaks!" he shouted. "Wait till I get the police on you!" He did not, however, come outside. Harry supposed that he was too afraid.

Brushing dirt off his face groggily, Harry pulled himself away from Dudley and stood up, nearly tripping over one of the neatly trimmed hedges lining the garden.

"All right, Harry?" Lupin inquired, who was standing next to him. Harry nodded.

"Time to wake your cousin, then," said Moody, clunking forward with his wooden leg. "Lupin, do the honors..."

Lupin leaned over Dudley and took out his wand. "Ennervate," he muttered. Dudley's eyes fluttered open, and he let out a yell.

"Be quiet, Dudley," said Harry, leaning down and giving his cousin a hand.

"Wh-where are we?" asked Dudley, looking around wildly.

"Home, idiot," said Harry tiredly. "Let's get inside, shall we?"

They made their way up to the front door, followed by Lupin and Moody. Harry rang the doorbell.

"You!" Uncle Vernon snarled at Harry as he opened the door. "What did you do to Dudley?"

"Dinky Diddyums!" Aunt Petunia's face appeared from behind Uncle Vernon's neck. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

"Get inside," Uncle Vernon said, grabbing Harry by the shoulder and shoving him through the doorway. Dudley followed him into the house slowly. "You," Uncle Vernon addressed Lupin, "you should feel grateful that we're even thanking you for this. Your freakish world got us into this mess -"

"It did not," Harry interrupted. "It wasn't even a wizard who kidnapped us -"

"Shut up!" Uncle Vernon roared. "I do not want to hear that - that word in my house!"

Aunt Petunia winced. "Vernon, dear, let's just get inside and leave them alone. We don't want the neighbors hearing..."

"You're right, Petunia dear," Uncle Vernon grunted, still eyeing Lupin and Moody warily. "You two freaks, get off my lawn!"

Lupin and Moody didn't move. "We'd like to have a word with you about Harry," said Lupin, in a quiet but authoritative voice. "None of this was his fault, and if you ever dare to punish him for it, you'll have us - and a whole bunch of other 'freaks' - to answer to. Do you understand me?"

Uncle Vernon cast a nervous glance at Petunia, who nodded, frightened.

"Yes, yes, we understand," he said, clearing his throat. "No harm to the boy, we won't harm him at all."

"We'll be watching, Dursley," growled Moody, lifting his head so that his magical eye was visible. Uncle Vernon yelped and slammed the door. Harry heard two faint popping noises as the wizards Disapparated.

"Well, boy," said Uncle Vernon, glaring down at Harry, "what have you go to say for yourself?"

"I didn't do anything," said Harry, shrugging.

"Why you little -" Grabbing Harry's shoulder, Uncle Vernon began to force him up the stairs, his face redder by the minute. "Little ingrate, after all that we've done for you!"

"It wasn't his fault, Dad," said Dudley quietly from the hallway.

Uncle Vernon halted mid-stride. "W-what did you say, Dud?" he asked. Harry winced as the grip on his shoulder tightened.

"Stop it," said Dudley, his voice louder this time. "It wasn't his fault. Let him be."

"Dud, I don't want you to repeat what those brainwashing freaks have been telling you -"

Dudley stamped his foot, causing the whole house to shake. "I'm not!" he screamed. "Let Harry go!"

"D-Dudleykins, calm down," said Aunt Petunia, her voice shaking. Her eyes roamed over the dirt on the stairs from Harry's shoes. "We understand that you've been through a terrible experience and -"

Dudley ignored her. "Let go of Harry, Dad."

Uncle Vernon backed away from Harry, his hands raised in the air.

"Harry," said Dudley, disregarding his gaping parents, "are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Harry answered, meeting Dudley's eyes. "Thanks."

Dudley looked away quickly and turned to his mother. "Can I have some breakfast now?" he asked.

"Of course, Diddykins," she simpered. She shot a venomous glare at Harry before leading Dudley into the kitchen.

Harry rolled his eyes and walked past his fuming uncle to his room. Shaking off his shoes and socks, he closed the door as Uncle Vernon commenced down the stairs, seemingly deciding to ignore Harry for the time being. Harry took off his glasses and curled up on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers. Within five minutes, he was asleep.

***

When Jack woke, he was lying on the ground in the middle of a forest, staring up at the twinkling starlight in the black night sky. He could not recall where he was or how he had got there, and for a moment he could not even remember his own name. After he had figured that out, he waited for the memories to come rushing back to him, as they usually did after he passed out, but nothing happened. He couldn't remember a single thing.

He decided that he might as well get up and find somewhere to stay; he had his bag with him (for some reason), and there was some money in his pocket, enough for one night at a decent inn. He walked slowly out of the forest, occasionally falling to his knees when a blinding light assaulted his mind, and found himself at the door of a hotel.

The sudden thought came that he was staying here, in room 205.

"Right," he muttered. He pushed open the door and somehow managed to get up to his room. Once there, he collapsed onto his bed and groped for the alarm clock. It was 1:00 in the morning.

I must be drunk, he thought dizzily.

Without bothering to take off his shoes, Jack pulled the covers over him and closed his eyes, his last thought a wish for this hangover to be over in the morning.