The Kidnapping

Chapter Five

Airplane Food

"I agree that if you read the letter out loud in the style of Dumbledore's speech, then it sounds like he's tacitly saying we should enlist the help of Harry's friends while overtly dismissing the notion, but I still think it's a bad idea."

Sirius Black was voicing his disapprobation of Remus Lupin's plan.

"You didn't teach those three for a year at Hogwarts, you didn't see just what they could do together," Lupin replied, "and you do still remember that night in the Shrieking Shack, don't you?"

Sirius scratched the hair on the back of his head and yawned. Since dropping in at his old friend's home, he had engaged in what Lupin felt to be an inordinate amount of sleeping. Sirius claimed he was making up for thirteen years worth of sleep loss. Thursday morning was dawning, bright and clear, in the hilly Welsh countryside.

"Come to think of it, I do," was Sirius' reply. "Those three fought like they were possessed. Of course, I wasn't exactly at my fittest, and I didn't really want to hurt them."

"I'll forget I heard that," Lupin said calmly, and with a flick of his wand he had the breakfast dishes cleaning themselves.

"But a cat and an escaped, half-starving convict is one thing," Sirius went on. "Those things that Dumbledore told us about, the ones with the swords, those are something else. We shouldn't expose any more people to them than is necessary. I refuse to go along with the very idea of taking any kids."

"If we don't take them, they'll go anyway. You know how clever Hermione is," Lupin went on. "She's a bit of a stickler for rules, but she'd risk a sentence in Azkaban to try and help either Harry or Ron. Ron's even more devoted, if not as brainy. We'd be better off asking them to come with us, rather than having to worry about them when they go looking for him on their own. That way, we know where they are."

Sirius sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "Oh, you're probably right," he conceded. "Come to think of it, if James had been spirited away during summer holidays while we were at school, we would have gone out and tried to rescue him, even if we were forbidden to do it by Dumbledore or anyone else."

"I think it goes with the territory of being a Gryffindor," Remus said calmly as he sat down at the small table in his kitchen. "We're supposed to be brave, noble, willing to struggle against the odds to save friends in need, that sort of thing."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Sirius retorted. He sighed again. "And besides, what will their parents think?"

Remus had a thoughtful expression on his face. "There is that. But Molly and Arthur will sympathize if we approach it from the right angle. So might Mr and Mrs Granger. And it's not like Hermione and Ron haven't been in dangerous situations before. In fact, the risks will be lower, since we'll be with them as well. And Dumbledore's letter does mention he's asking Snape and Alastor Moody to join in."

"Snape?" Sirius said, his voice darkening.

Remus gave his old friend a reproachful glance. "Remember what Dumbledore said. You two will have to at least treat each other civilly."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it, either," Sirius muttered, taking a sip out of the coffee mug before him.

"Let's put aside all that for a moment," Remus said. "Dumbledore said he would make the arrangements needed to get Hermione back to England if she wanted it. We'll tell her to go to the Burrow, and we'll pick up her and Ron if they want to come with us, wherever we end up going. We'll try to keep them involved without getting them in the middle of any unpleasantness. If either you or I are with them at all times, we can try to divert their activities and make the whole thing be like some sort of summer vacation. Only with a serious side to it."

"And if we haven't found Harry once term begins at Hogwarts?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't imagine whomever has Harry will be keeping him that long. But if that situation comes up, we'll just have to ship Ron and Hermione off to school. We've got nothing better to do than to look for Harry, no matter where we end up. But they still have an education to finish."

"Speaking of what we've got nothing better to do, supposing we do end up traveling abroad, how are we supposed to pay for things? I can't exactly run around publicly to Gringotts in London all the time, not that I've loads of money to spare, and you're floating from job to job, and not always well-paying ones at that."

Remus smiled wolfishly before answering. "The Ministry, in its infinite wisdom, and with its bottomless reserves of money, has let Dumbledore look after the investigation itself, and is simply giving him whatever he needs."

"Sounds like Fudge has a soft spot for Harry," Sirius said, "even if he thinks the boy's not all there, courtesy of Skeeter."

"Either that or he's playing good politics... about all he seems to be good at," quipped Remus. "Anyways, all we have to do is request funds from Dumbledore."

It was Sirius' turn to smile wolfishly. "So that means we can eat at five-star restaurants, buy ourselves dapper clothing from elite couturiers, and shell out for, ahem, special escort services? While zipping around on Muggle airplanes in first class?"

Remus' return smile was indulgent. "Yes, of course, Padfoot. And we will have to make sure to stock up on some Churchills before we leave. Unless the search takes us to Cuba, in which case we'd best grab some Havanas. And let's not forget a few bottles of Glenfiddich, and perhaps some fine British Columbian ice wines."

The two men shared a brief laugh at the thought of living large at the Ministry's expense.

"So what's up for today?" Sirius asked.

"I'm meeting with James Eckler, the Law Enforcement officer who's supervising the official investigation. He's going to tell me about all the evidence they've gathered from Dumbledore and Snape's firsthand account of the kidnapping, and the information the Dursleys gave out under Veritaserum, as well as the results of the examination of the scene of the crime. You, naturally, will have to find something else to do this morning.

"When I'm done that, hopefully by lunchtime, we'll be Apparating near Hogsmeade to meet with Dumbledore at Hogwarts, and we'll talk about how to fight off those creatures that were running interference for Harry's kidnappers."

Remus looked at the clock on his wall. In addition to having the time, it showed the phases of the moon. Thankfully, the moon was only starting to wax: he had a couple of weeks before it became full once more.

"Well, I'd best be going. I'm meeting Eckler at his department's offices in half an hour. Hope to see you at lunch, my dear Padfoot," Lupin said, and he left the kitchen.

Sirius sat at the table, glancing at the Daily Prophet, and wondered what he was going to do for the next four hours. Now that he was safely ensconced in hiding at Lupin's... he had to admit he was getting bored. On the other hand, he decided, boredom was definitely better than the constant stress and burning hunger of his fugitive days, and infinitely superior to his stint in Azkaban...

No, Sirius, don't start thinking about that, he thought to himself, and decided to distract himself by giving the paper a complete read-through. After that, there was always Lupin's impressive personal library. Whatever it took, Sirius knew that he had to keep himself occupied until his mind had veered completely away from the subject of Azkaban Prison.

= = = = =

Harry Potter was also struggling with boredom. The passenger cabin had been enchanted to repel the emotional effects of the wraiths' presence, and so he was free from the constant terror that they emanated. But neither Salisbury nor Catherine had seen fit to resize his trunk, so he had nothing to do or read. Catherine Scott was in the cockpit flying the plane, while Salisbury was sitting across the cabin, reading. Harry had already examined the book as surreptitiously as he could. It was The Prince, by a Muggle named Niccolo Machiavelli. Who he was, Harry didn't really know. He had heard the term "Machiavellian" used to describe unpleasant politicians, so he suspected that this Machiavelli fellow wasn't such a nice man himself. Of course, the book's cover showed that he had died in 1527, so it was hard to say.

The passenger cabin had four sets of four seats with a table between each pair of the set, and an aisle running through the middle that went into the flight deck and the cockpit at one end and towards the luggage compartment at the other. Since all the luggage any of the passengers would need was conveniently shrunk small enough to fit into the small leather sack sitting on the seat beside Salisbury, the wraiths used the luggage compartment to keep to themselves. Harry idly wondered what they did when they weren't actually doing anything.

Harry shifted slightly in his seat, trying to make himself more comfortable. After they had taken off, Catherine had undone the Body-Bind spell she had put on him, for which he was rather thankful. All in all, he thought that his captors were being fairly easy on him. Connor Salisbury was ruthless, there was no doubt about that, but unlike Voldemort, he seemed not to indulge in wanton cruelty. He had taken Cho and threatened her because he knew that Harry would have given himself up rather than let her come to harm, but where Voldemort would have simply gone on to torture her with the Cruciatus Curse and followed up by killing her, Salisbury had simply returned her to her home. There were worse people in the world to be kidnapped by, Harry decided.

That didn't make him any less determined to escape. Harry was spending every moment wondering when he was going to get a chance to be alone and get his Cloak. After that, escape would be a simple affair. The only thing that he was worried about was money. Did the wizards of the United States use the same Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts that British wizards did? Or did they use a different currency? More to the point, since Harry's vault was in London, how was he supposed to get money from a wizard bank in America?

"Care for something to eat, Mr Potter?" Salisbury's voice interrupted his thoughts. The older wizard was looking at him with a disinterested expression on his face.

Harry realized with a start that he was hungry. The terrifying wraiths, and the adrenaline of their escape from the Death Eaters had driven the thought of food from his mind, but now his body was reminding him vociferously that he hadn't eaten since dinner last night. He looked at Salisbury with a questioning glance. What was he supposed to eat?

"Put your hand on the table in front of you and say the name of the food you want, out loud," Salisbury told him.

"Bacon, rashers, and toast," Harry said, putting his palm flat on the table. A moment later, a big plate with several crispy slices of bacon, a pile of puffy, steaming potato rashers and two thick, golden brown buttered slices of toast appeared, complete with cutlery. His stomach growled in anticipation.

"When you're finished, say finis to make the dishes go away," Salisbury said, and then returned to his book as Harry began to wolf down his food. It was, Harry had to admit, a far sight better than the food Aunt Petunia had been putting on the Dursleys' table due to Dudley's continued diet.

As he was finishing up, Catherine walked in from the cockpit, and sat down at Salisbury's side. The old man put his book down.

"Harry," she said amiably, "I am going to ask you a few questions. If you cooperate and answer to the best of your ability, I won't be needing to use this." She brought her wand up and placed it on the table, keeping her fingers resting lightly on its handle.

"I know a spell that will force you to tell the truth. It isn't altogether pleasant, and I'd much rather not use it if I don't have to. Understand?" Harry nodded, remembering with an internal shudder the feeling of Voldemort's Cruciatus curse the night of the Third Task...

Salisbury was watching him, a calculating gaze on his face.

"Who would you prefer we ask you about first? Dumbledore or Voldemort?" asked Catherine.

Harry thought this was an unusual question. They were interrogating him, but they were going to let him direct the course of their inquiry?

"Voldemort," he said.

"Very well. Do you know anything about Voldemort's past until the day he murdered your parents?"

Harry licked his lips and strained through his memory for what he knew about Voldemort's past life.

"He was born to a witch and a Muggle," Harry began. "When the Muggle found out about his wife's true identity, he left her while she was pregnant. She gave birth to her son and named him Tom Marvolo Riddle. She died not long after. Tom Riddle was sent to a Muggle orphanage.

"The year he turned eleven, he got his Hogwarts letter. He went to the school, and somehow learned that he was the Heir of Salazar Slytherin, one of the school's founders. When he was sixteen, he discovered Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, and he set the Basilisk hiding in the Chamber on several students, before he finally killed one.

"Hogwarts was going to be shut down after that, so he decided he had to stop for the time being. He framed another student at the school, and preserved the knowledge of how to get into the Chamber in a magical diary.

"He behaved himself for the rest of his time at school, especially because the Transfiguration teacher, Professor Dumbledore, was keeping an eye on him. I don't know much about what he did when he left, but Dumbledore says he immersed himself in all the worst sorts of Dark magic, trying to become immortal and all-powerful. He stopped using his birth name, and called himself a name that he'd invented for himself at school: Lord Voldemort."

Catherine glanced at Salisbury, who nodded slightly. "What about when he reappeared?" she asked.

"He began looking for followers, and trying to get power over others. Once he had enough support and enough influence, he started to kill everyone who stood up to him. He had a secret society of Death Eaters who served him. But he was always afraid of Dumbledore, and never moved directly against him. He was steadily growing in power until Hallowe'en, on 1981, when he came to my parent's cottage."

"At which point, the Harry Potter mythos came to be," Salisbury murmured. "The rest of the details at that point are well-documented."

"So far, so good, Harry," Catherine said. "But the only new information you've given us is Voldemort's origins. How about after you started at Hogwarts? You had a couple of run-ins with him to date. What happened?"

"I first met Voldemort in my first year at school," Harry said. "He was trying to steal a Philosopher's Stone from the school. He was sharing the body of Professor Quirrell, our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. My friends and I got past the defences protecting the Stone, and I went in alone to the last room. I somehow managed to get the Stone, and I kept Quirrell from getting it long enough for Dumbledore to rescue me. Voldemort fled, and Quirell died.

"The next year, Lucius Malfoy, one of Voldemort's servants, sneaked Tom Riddle's diary into Ginny's cauldron, and she started using it."

"Ginny?" Catherine interrupted his tale.

"She's the younger sister of my best friend, Ron," Harry explained. "He possessed her from time to time, and used her to open the Chamber of Secrets again and attack Muggle-born students with the Basilisk. No-one died, this time. Tom took Ginny into the Chamber to lure me in. Ron and I found it, and we went in. We got separated by a cave-in, and I found Ginny and Tom. He set the Basilisk on me, but I had help from Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes.

"Fawkes put out the Basilisk's eyes, and then I managed to stab it with a sword I got from the Sorting Hat. I killed the Basilisk. It bit me, and I was dying of poison, but Fawkes cried over the wound, and healed me. Then I took a broken Basilisk fang and stabbed the diary. I destroyed the living memory of Tom Riddle, and rescued Ginny.

"I didn't see Voldemort again until this past June twenty-fourth, the night of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. He had an agent in Hogwarts, an old Death Eater named Barty Crouch Jr. Crouch was disguised as the retired Auror Mad-Eye Moody. Crouch turned the Triwizard Cup into a Portkey, and it transported me and Cedric Diggory to a graveyard.

"Another Death Eater, Peter Pettigrew, killed Cedric. They tied me to a gravestone and used some of my blood to revive Voldemort. He had his physical body back and all his powers. He summoned all the other Death Eaters together, and scolded them for disloyalty. Then he tried to fight me. Our wands locked together, because they have the same magical core: phoenix tail feathers from Fawkes.

"I managed to escape with Cedric's body. We returned to Hogwarts, and-"

"And we're well aware of the subsequent events," Salisbury broke in.

"Now, what can you tell us about Dumbledore?"

"I don't know very much about him," Harry admitted. "I know he was a teacher at Hogwarts when Tom Riddle was going. He defeated the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945. He's possibly the most powerful wizard alive."

"A little more specific information would be helpful, Harry," Catherine said disapprovingly. "Do you know what he did the night your parents died?"

"He had Hagrid bring me to my relatives," Harry answered. "He left a note for them, explaining what happened. That's all I know."

Catherine glanced towards Salisbury, who nodded very slightly. "Still a bit disappointing, but at least you're being honest. Do you know of any of Dumbledore's weaknesses?"

Harry thought for a minute. Did Dumbledore have any weaknesses? "I can't think of any," he said. "The only time I really remember Dumbledore being caught unawares was when Crouch was masquerading as Professor Moody."

Catherine looked at Salisbury again. He nodded again. She frowned.

"Very well, Harry. You've told us the truth. I have just one last question. Do you think you can escape from us?"

"No," Harry answered, trying to sound like he had sullenly accepted the conclusion.

Salisbury shook his head. Catherine smiled and pointed her wand. "Wrong answer, apparently. Veridicus."

Harry felt himself jolt upright, and a wave of nausea passed quickly over him.

"Now, Harry, I'll ask again: do you think you can escape from us?"

"Yes," Harry answered, unable to stop himself. At least he hadn't given away his Cloak...

"And why do you think that?" Catherine asked. "Do you have a way of getting past the wraiths?"

"Yes," Harry answered again.

"What way is that, Harry?"

Don't answer! Harry thought to himself. He shook with exertion, and he felt a cold sweat breaking on his forehead.

"Veridicus," Catherine intoned again. Harry gagged, feeling his throat constrict. When the fit passed again, Catherine was ready.

"By what means can you get past the wraiths?"

"I have an Invisibility Cloak," Harry answered, spitting the words out with obvious reluctance.

A small grin spread out on Salisbury's face. "I'm certain that's come in quite useful from time to time," he said.

"Where is it?" Catherine asked.

"In the bottom of my trunk," replied Harry.

"Anything else we need to know?" Catherine asked Salisbury.

"Not right now," he replied.

"Finite Incantatem," she said, and Harry felt the spell release him. He felt a fresh wave of nausea, and gripped his stomach, his teeth clenching.

"The washroom's the door to the left behind you," Salisbury said, and Harry was off in a flash. Breakfast had just become a complete waste of time.