A hearty greeting to you all this week. It is my displeasure to relate to all of you that this story is probably going to be shorter than I anticipated, maybe only another 9 or 10 chapters. For now, enjoy!
And I'm sorry for getting this out two days late...
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Chapter 17: The Black Island
Harry gazed out at the black waters below him from atop his broom, a chilly breeze fluttering around his head, the only light coming from the waning moon.
"Have you ever been to Azkaban?" called Hermione from her ride.
"No," replied Harry, flying over next to her so the tails of their brooms were touching. "I've heard stories from Remus...Sirius didn't really talk about it that much."
"For a good reason, I suppose," sighed Hermione. "We should be there in about ten minutes."
"Good," said Harry. "It's starting to get light...and I don't want anything to see us land on that island."
"You think people will still be there?" asked Hermione.
"I think something might be there," replied Harry, shuddering at the thought of having to cast his patronus again.
"I don't think dementors will be there," said Hermione, reading his mind. "They've been breeding somewhere else...and there isn't any of that strange mist around."
"I suppose that's true," muttered Harry.
"I wish it wasn't so bloody cold though," shivered Hermione as they passed through a cloud.
"It's not that bad," smiled Harry slightly.
"You are a male, and you have more bulk," said Hermione grumpily. "You therefore do not get the shivers in chilly weather such as the fairer sex is prone to get."
"How articulate," chuckled Harry. "Here."
With one deft move, he removed his cloak and carefully draped it over her shoulders, making sure to maintain his balance on the broom.
"Won't you be cold?" asked Hermione.
"Nah," said Harry, drawing in a shaky breath.
"Liar," smiled Hermione. "There it is."
A large, dark, and jagged mass could be seen rising from the smooth surface of the North Sea several kilometers ahead of them. The nearer they drew, more of the island's features came into focus. There were no beaches, just cliffs that separated the water from the land. No trees were on the island, only an old castle perched on top that occupied almost all of the space available. Torn black pennants fluttered in the wind from atop the main tower, a testament to the age of the building.
"Azkaban," muttered Harry.
"Where should we land?" asked Hermione.
"The only place we can land," he replied, pointing to a small, open area just outside the gates.
Quietly, the two of them descended to their destination, the sole sound being that of the waves crashing against the rocks as they each landed on the hard dirt.
"So how should we proceed?" asked Hermione as she and Harry shrunk down their brooms and placed them in their pockets.
"Cautiously," replied Harry, gripping his wand.
They ventured forth, pausing at the destroyed trestle to make sure it wasn't being guarded before continuing on into the interior of the fortress.
"Cor, it smells rotten in here," breathed Harry, the sound of their footsteps echoing throughout the spacious hallway.
"Well, thousands of people have died in this castle," replied Hermione disdainfully.
"Where are we supposed to start looking for whatever we're looking for?" asked Harry.
"I haven't the foggiest," said Hermione. "We probably won't find anything in the cells, so let's start in the courtyard, I guess."
"I can see why people would go mad in here," said Harry as they walked. "It's like all the life has been sucked out of this place."
"Literally," commented Hermione as they reached open air once again.
"You know that reminds me," said Harry. "This quest is supposedly thousands of years old, right?"
"Mmhmm," nodded Hermione as they started looking around the courtyard.
The grass was long and brown, all traces of life having vanished from it. Four cracked and broken stone benches occupied each of the four sides of the area, and in the middle stood a dried up fountain with moss growing on it.
"Well, this prison can't have been around for that long, can it?"
"It wasn't always just a prison," said Hermione, examining one of the benches. "Originally it was muggle labor camp used back before we had the Ministry."
"A muggle labor camp?" asked Harry. "What could you possibly manufacture on this god-forsaken rock?"
"Exactly that," nodded Hermione. "Rock. For the castles of nobles, I would assume."
"Slave labor," commented Harry. "Lovely."
"The only good emotion one could have in a place like this is hope, hence why we're here," shrugged Hermione, walking over to the fountain.
"So why a castle, then?" asked Harry. "I mean, why go through the effort of building something this massive, let alone with something that looks like it used to be a reasonably nice courtyard?"
"I imagine the masters wanted to be able to live in the luxury they were accustomed to," she replied. "Have a look at this."
Harry crouched next to her and stared at the faded inscription on the rock.
Libertus Cubitus Per Carcerus
"What does it mean?" he asked
"Freedom rests with the jailer," said Hermione, standing up. "Or something of the sort, my Latin is a little rusty."
"So how does that help us?" asked Harry.
"Well, assuming that this does refer to the quest, I would assume that freedom was the only hope anyone who entered the cells of this place would have left," replied Hermione. "And since Azkaban wasn't always guarded by dementors, I would also assume that the 'jailer' means the warden."
"So we go find the warden's quarters, then?" asked Harry.
"At least it's something to go on," nodded Hermione as they walked back into the castle. "I imagine that in the older days, prisoners would've been kept in the dungeons, so we should probably start looking down there."
Harry nodded as they walked around, looking for a set of stairs that would lead them into the depths of the castle.
"I wonder why they went to so much trouble to protect the four points," commented Harry. "I mean, the bracelet seemed protected enough by the Sorting Hat, so why protect everything else?"
"Basic rule of strategy," replied Hermione. "Don't just protect the key or the chest, protect both."
"What does that mean?" asked Harry.
"Well think about it," replied Hermione. "If you hid the key, but left the chest unguarded, someone could find the chest, and with reasonable skill and luck, break into it, making the key useless. It's the same with these points of power."
"So the logic is that someone might've been able to find them and somehow get whatever it is they hold and use it for themselves?"
"Something like that," replied Hermione, as they reached an old wooden door. Walking up to it, she swung it open to reveal a set of stairs descending into the lower levels of the fortress.
"I doubt this place has been visited in years, from the looks of it," said Hermione, holding her wand aloft for light.
"They wouldn't have kept prisoners down here?" asked Harry.
"When the dementors came under the Ministry's employ over two centuries ago, the use of these cells was forbidden," she explained. "I suppose it was the government's way of trying to not be 'cruel and unusual,' because anyone who had to endure dementors without a decent sea breeze would've died within days."
"Makes sense," nodded Harry as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Ugh, it smells worse down here than it does up there."
"And for good reason," grimaced Hermione, pointing at one of the cells, which to Harry's dismay, wasn't empty.
"Oh, rotting corpses," said Harry with false lightheartedness. "Just lovely."
"That's not all," said Hermione worriedly, holding up her arm to stop Harry's progress.
"What is it, love?" asked Harry, concern etched on his brow.
"Look at that one's hand," whispered Hermione, pointing at another corpse in a cell up on the right.
Harry had to squint in the fading light, but sure enough, he could see the fingers on the body's hand twitching ever so slightly.
"Inferi..." he muttered. "I swear, every-bloody-where I go..."
"We're going to be in trouble if they attack us," said Hermione.
"Not if...when," stated Harry. "Can you conjure up a big ring of fire?"
"No," replied Hermione. "Just those blue flames I used to make for you, me, and Ron in our early years.
"What's the strongest Flame-Freezing charm you know?" asked Harry after a moment of thought.
"Um...the Cocoon of Blue Death," replied Hermione. "I think you said Dumbledore cast it on Voldemort during the battle at the Ministry."
Harry cast his mind back to that fateful day and could still vividly see Voldemort incased in a cell of water, struggling for breath just before escaping and taking Bellatrix with him.
"Do you know the counter for it?" asked Harry.
"Of course," nodded Hermione. "Why?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw one of the Inferi move its arm.
"Those blue flames," he said, conjuring a glass jar.
"Yes?" asked Hermione.
"Fill it to the brim," he said, holding it out for her. With an inquisitive glance, she tapped her wand on the rim of the glass, and blue flames instantly sprouted from her wand and settled gently in the container.
"Harry...what are you doing?" asked Hermione, as he waved his wand in a flourish, causing a thick, black liquid to pour from the end of it.
"Lighting this place on fire," he replied. "When Dumbledore and I were attacked last year, he made this gigantic circle of flames that drove them all away...but I don't know how to cast that, so we're going to have to make do with what we have."
"The ceiling might cave in from the heat," said Hermione.
"Then we better put out the fire once the inferi are dead," said Harry.
"You mean destroyed," corrected Hermione. "And oil fires aren't the easiest to put out."
"Yes, yes," said Harry impatiently, as one of the inferi rose to its feet. "Get ready to cast that charm."
"I'm ready," replied Hermione, as several of the undead started to advance on them.
"Do it right after I cast my spell," said Harry. "Ready..."
Hermione grabbed Harry's free hand quickly as one of the inferi growled at them.
"Incendio!" Harry bellowed just as Hermione cried out, "Aquas Dormens!"
Harry and Hermione were instantly enveloped in a globe of water, and Harry found himself struggling for air while the flames roared outside them, the inferi writhing as they were being burned.
Seconds seemed an eternity to Harry as with each passing moment he found himself with a greater need for oxygen than before. Trying not to struggle too much, he squeezed Hermione's hand, trying to convey his need for air.
A second later the cocoon was gone, and Harry found himself panting on all fours, trying desperately to fill his lungs as Hermione was attempting to put the fire out.
"Give me a hand here!" she shouted, as some of the old wooden frames on the doors began to crackle and burn.
"Finite," choked out Harry, and instantly the flames vanished, the smoldering remains of the inferi all that was left of the fire.
"...I didn't know that worked," said Hermione, giving Harry a hand up.
"I didn't either," he replied. "Just figured I'd give it a try."
"Dumbledore taught you well," chuckled Hermione. "Well let's move on, I sincerely hope we don't have to deal with any more of those while we're here."
"Knowing my luck, we'll probably end up with something worse," muttered Harry.
"Let's try and not be so pessimistic," chastised Hermione, as they reached a large oak door at the end of the hall. "This must be it."
"Be careful," said Harry as Hermione made to open the door.
"Aren't I always?" she asked with a smile.
Harry stood back with his wand held at arm's length as Hermione swung the door open, both of them expecting some form of trap to present itself.
Instead, nothing happened. Just a cloud of dust and some rats that went scurrying on by them.
"That was...uneventful," said Harry, lowering his wand slightly
"Tell me about it," nodded Hermione, coughing.
They both peered inside the room cautiously, wands aloft to provide light.
It seemed like it had, at one point, been a very nice place to reside. A now cracked and cobweb-covered old-fashioned four poster was sitting in the near right hand corner of the room. A cold and dark fireplace was positioned in the left wall with a very old Union Jack hanging above it, and in the center of the room, was what they presumed to be the warden's desk.
With the decaying warden sitting behind it.
"You don't think he's gonna attack us too?" asked Harry.
Wordlessly, Hermione flicked her wand and a soft, golden mist fluttered from the end of it, flying directly at the warden and hitting him square in the face.
"Nope," replied Hermione with a sigh of relief. "He's good and dead."
"Glad to hear it," nodded Harry. "Let's investigate."
"You know," commented Hermione, as they walked inside and started looking around the room. "This is an awful nice set of quarters for a warden."
"I was thinking the same thing," replied Harry. "It's kinda like he was being treated specially."
"Maybe he was more special than some people let on," intoned Hermione. "Like he was guarding something maybe."
"We're on the same page," smiled Harry, moving around to check the drawers of the warden's desk.
"Careful now," said Hermione as Harry made to move the chair the warden was resting in.
"I will be," replied Harry just as he slid the chair a little bit and the warden's arm fell off.
"Harry," groaned Hermione.
"Sorry..." he grimaced, before turning to the warden. "Sorry to you too, mate."
"Let's just get on with this, shall we?"
"Hey, take a gander at this," said Harry a moment later, having removed some pieces of parchment from the warden's desk.
"What are they?" asked Hermione, coming over.
"Letters," he replied. "See how it's addressed?"
"To the Northern Guard," read Hermione. "Well, that could mean anything, really."
"Read the rest of it."
"Hmm...something about food rations, prisoners, etcetera," commented Hermione, skimming over the letter. "The other three guards have taken their positions and are ready to commit to the protection. Send word when you are also ready."
"Seems a bit cagey to me," commented Harry.
"I agree," nodded Hermione. "But unfortunately that doesn't bring us any closer to finding where we need to go, so for the time being let's keep searching."
"Alright," said Harry, pocketing the letters just in case.
"This is getting bloody frustrating," said Hermione, a few minutes later. "Why can't these things ever be easy?"
"Actually, I think I just found something," said Harry, motioning Hermione over to him. "Look."
Carved into the wall behind the warden were the simple words, 'God Save the King.'
"You don't suppose that refers to the king, do you?" asked Harry.
"Only one way to find out," replied Hermione, aiming her wand at the wall. "Revealio."
A rectangular section of the stone, large enough for a human to walk through, turned to a gentle blue color before returning to its normal gray a moment later.
"I guess we have our answer," said Harry with a lopsided smile.
"Who disturbs the royal prison?!"
Harry and Hermione spun on the spot, wands aloft, but nothing was there.
"Who's there?" shouted Harry. "Show yourself!"
And suddenly, a translucent image appeared before them.
"The warden?" asked Hermione in astonishment.
"What's left o' me," the specter spoke. Indeed, Harry thought he looked much worse for the wear, given the ghost's sunken face and torn clothes. "Who be ye?"
"Erm...Harry Potter and Hermione Granger," replied Harry.
"And what be ye wantin' with the passageway?"
"We're on a quest," said Hermione
"What kind o' quest?" asked the warden.
"That's our concern," interjected Harry, before Hermione could speak.
"Well listen up, laddie," the ghost said. "That there be a sacred place, only those chosen may enter. It is my sworn duty to protect the entrance from those who would...do no good."
"Quite admirable," commented Harry.
"So your quest is my concern now," said the ghost. "Because it's my charge to kill those who would try and force entry...and don't try nuthin' funny."
"What does this mean to you?" asked Harry, holding up his wrist so that the bracelet was visible.
The ghost's eyes widened visibly at the circlet, and he promptly dropped his head in a bow.
"Your majesty," whispered the ghost. "Begging your pardon."
"You are pardoned," nodded Harry. "Could you please let us down there?"
"Of course, m'lord."
With a quick wave from the ghost's fingers, there was a loud rumble and the stone that had glowed blue disappeared, leaving a set of stairs descending even further into the island.
"It is good to see the return of a king of light," said the ghost, causing Harry to turn back to him. "May you be successful in your pilgrimage."
And with that he was gone.
"Well that was certainly interesting," said Harry, taking a breath. "Ladies first."
"Why thank you, m'lord," chuckled Hermione, walking past him and starting down the stairs.
They walked for what seemed like hours, going further and further down until Harry was sure they were under the sea. Finally the stairs ended and the floor became level, expanding into a long corridor.
"What is it?" asked Harry, holding his wand aloft to light the hall.
"A tunnel of some kind," replied Hermione. "Look, there are unlit torches in the brackets on the walls."
She performed a quick charm and lit the ones closest to her, the stone hall brightening before them.
"Well, let's get on with it then," she said, taking a step forward.
"Wait!" hissed Harry, grabbing her arm. Hermione turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Look."
Hermione turned to look at where Harry was pointing, and saw several tall but thin slits in the wall to their left. Quickly, Harry conjured a stone and tossed it a little way down the hall. The rock bounced several times before coming to a rest a few meters away.
"Guess I was blowing steam," shrugged Harry. "Better to be caref -"
There was a clanking from above them and suddenly many razor sharp sheaves of metal flew from the slits and hit the wall on the right with loud pings.
"Traps," muttered Hermione, holding her wand out at arm's length. "I'm glad I know about this spell."
"What spell?" asked Harry, as she twirled her wand once and muttered a word he didn't hear.
"Avonerum," replied Hermione. "It turns my wand into a sneakoscope that only detects traps."
"You are brilliant, you know that?" smiled Harry.
"Don't thank me quite yet," cautioned Hermione. "It'll be able to find traps in the walls and ceiling, but not in the floor."
"Why not?" asked Harry.
"Flaws in the spell," shrugged Hermione. "It was the best I could find of its type."
"It's better than nothing," nodded Harry. "Let's keep moving."
Harry and Hermione passed the fallen blades carefully, making sure not to step on them in case they were also cursed. They continued down the hall until they reached an intersection, with two more passageways leading to both the left and right.
"What the bloody hell?" asked Harry to no one in particular, staring down the corridor on the right.
"It's a labyrinth," said Hermione looking around carefully. "Traps, intersections..."
"So how do we find...where we're supposed to be going?" asked Harry.
"Now you should know the answer to that," smirked Hermione, laying her wand flat in her hand. "Point me." Her wand spun in her palm, pointing slightly to the left when it came to a stop. "Hope is North after all."
"Forgive me if I try to block out memories from the night Voldemort was reborn," said Harry arching an eyebrow at her.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," apologised Hermione quickly.
"I know you didn't," smiled Harry gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Let's get moving."
They continued on for some time, occasionally pausing to get their heading again, being extremely careful to avoid the many traps that were meant to end their lives.
Eventually, they reached a junction where their only choices were left or right, and Hermione's wand was pointing directly at the wall in front of them.
"Well, I suppose we should just choose one," shrugged Hermione, looking around.
"Let's go right," said Harry.
"Any particular reason?" asked Hermione as they set off down the corridor.
"Just a feeling," he replied.
Within moments they ran into a hallway on their left that would let them continue in a northern direction, but Harry paused at the intersection and peered around.
"Something's not right here," said Harry, looking down the new hall. "There aren't any holders for torches in here like everywhere else..."
"My wand isn't detecting anything," said Hermione.
"Probably just another way of testing us," said Harry. "Making us continue on in the dark and all."
"Wait," said Hermione nervously. "I'm not so sure about this."
"How come?" asked Harry.
"Just a feeling," replied Hermione. "I think we should keep going straight."
"What if there's a clue in here though," said Harry, taking a step inside. "We have to be thorough."
"I suppose," replied Hermione hesitantly. "Let's just be really careful, okay?"
Harry took a few cautious steps into the hall, pausing after each to make sure there was nothing out of place.
"I have a really bad feeling about this," said Hermione.
"I'll be careful," said Harry, taking another step.
He heard the fall of a latch a split second too late.
The floor fell out from under Harry, the rush of wind as he fell and the terrified scream of Hermione the last things he heard before darkness overtook him.
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Given some of the events that have happened recently in my life, I thought this little bit was quite appropriate.
Expect the worst, hope for the best.
For example, don't expect to win the lottery. Hope to win the lottery. The same is true for everything else in life, even the things that shorter odds than winning the lottery.
Never underestimate an author to have something up his/her sleeve. I promise to have the next chapter out on time, I
can't leave all of you hanging like that after all lol. Don't forget to throw a review my way! Until next
time!