Unofficial Portkey Archive

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this whatsoever.

Spoilers: Books 1-4.

Pairing (if any): H/Hr, D/G, R/LB

Author Note: - I know, I'm terrible for updating quickly. I'm doing a lot of work at the moment, coursework and the like and planning a wedding so…I'm kinda busy with other things as well. I write when I can but I've been writing out flat this weekend and have written a few good chapters. This is the first one that I've written in a while. Thanks so much for sticking with me on this, you can't imagine how grateful I am.

This continues from the last chapter, the dreaded cliff-hanger that I got snap-reviewed for. I can't say I'm a 100% with this chapter, more like 50-50…Anyway, there's something about the chapter that made me keep this and not the other six versions I have on my computer. I must confess though, I think that I jumped a little too far ahead at this stage but I wanted to get it all over and done with quickly because it is fast, it doesn't take it's time. Thanks for reviewing and I'll see you at the end.

~)*(~

~)Way Back When(~

Someone, somewhere was eating ready salted crisp. Ginny could feel it in her gut. Somebody was eating ready salted crisp. For some unknown reason, Ginny had a craving for crisp, and not just any crisp. They had to be ready salted and she couldn't find any in the markets for the life of her. The only place she knew that sold them was in Hogsmeade and she wasn't even going to try and Apparate there again on a Saturday. The crush usually developed later on in the afternoon when everyone was going for their weekly shopping. Maybe a trip over wouldn't be so bad. Just a quick apparition…nothing too spectacular. She could even floo if she wanted but no…will power, Ginny, will power.

Hermione had told Ginny about the note she found. That led to gasps and all sorts of female conversation. At the end of it, Hermione was completely convinced that Harry Black wasn't Harry Black and if he was, then they knew him when he was younger. The piece of parchment didn't exactly prove anything whatsoever but it did outline that Ron had known Harry and that Harry had known of Hermione.

Then there was the decision about what to do: should they ask Harry about it or wait until he's finished his trial? Ginny had opted for the second of the two but Hermione wanted to get it over and done with. Granted, it wasn't Ginny who was having the strange dreams that were actually memories (according to Hermione).

The window clattered. Ginny hadn't heard the window clattering in a while and she looked up from her desk. It was snowy white owl at the window, pecking the glass pane in the hopes to get inside and out of the rain and thunder. Ginny opened the window and let the owl in, which landed on the carpet and wheezed theatrically. She laughed and removed the letter from its leg, balanced it on her desk and fed it some of the banana she'd been eating moments ago. The owl ate happily while Ginny unfolded the letter.

It was a letter from Dumbledore, but it wasn't just any old letter from Dumbledore.

Ginny folded up the letter and placed it on her desk. She couldn't believe it, it just wasn't possible. Everything that had happened in Hermione's memories, they were coming true. She had known Harry or rather did know Harry, or still does know Harry. It was all very confusing and she needed a drink, but she resisted the temptation and instead went to the fireplace.

Ginny uttered a few words and Lavender's face appeared in the fire.

"Ginny? How are you?" Lavender asked.

"Fine, is my brother there?" Ginny asked hurriedly. Lavender disappeared for a moment and Ron appeared in the fire.

"What's up?" He asked.

Ginny looked over at the letter on the table and looked back at her brother. "You will not believe what I'm going to tell you."

~)*(~

"What?!" Draco screamed at the runner. "Wh…where is he? Leave anything out and I'll hex you too oblivion!"

The scared runner just stood there, stunned. His hands were quivering as he held the note, clutching at his wand that was on his belt.

"I'm sorry, Sir," the runner apologised quickly, sweat dribbling on his forehead. "I've just been told to tell you about it. Mr Robing is missing from St Mungo's. The nurses have done a search and nothing is left of him. Even his bed was made when they went in this morning."

Draco buried his face in his hands. How could he have let this happen? How could he have not kept a decent security on him? God, he was a fool! A damnable fool! He hit his fist on the desk and sat back in his chair looking at the runner.

"Who told you to come?" He asked.

The runner looked confused for a moment then held the note out for Draco to look at. "It's from Dr. Palmer-Stuart at the hospital."

Draco read the note over and put it in his top pocket of his robes. "Look, I hope it's no trouble but could you do a return delivery? I need to get something to him pretty quickly without causing too much fuss over it."

The runner nodded as Draco handed him a small letter then made a small cracking sound as he Disapparated out. Draco hung his head, it was going to be a long day, and he could feel it. Breathing out, he leaned back in the wooden desk chair and sighed. If he didn't have this sorted soon, he'd be a dead man.

~)*(~

Someone was breathing heavily from the corridor. It wasn't just any type of breathing, it was the sort of panting a really unfit person makes when they've just climbed a hundred stairs. The staircase leading up was like climbing up to the tower at Hogwarts, only about three towers in quick succession.

Harry clambered to his feet. The back of his head hurt and the cut on his lip had ceased to bleed but still hurt. Harry raised a hand to the back of his head and felt the patch of hair there. It was covered in blood and for a second, Harry felt slightly dizzy. If he could perform a healing spell, he'd be fine, but his wand had been confiscated when he was brought here…to wherever here was. He didn't exactly know but he had a pretty good idea.

The panting was coming closer now and so was the jangling of keys on a belt. The familiar sound of a prison guard, Harry thought as he reached out for the metal bars that he knew were in front of him. The only problem about being in the pitch black was you never knew what you were grasping onto. The cold metal touched Harry's hand and he let out a breath that he'd been holding, just in case he grabbed a bone or something.

A cough and a splutter then the jingling of keys again, this time being taken off the belt and inserted into Harry's cell door.

"Evening, Mr Black," an old guy said, opening the cell door and shinning a torch into the darkened cell.

Harry had to back up for a moment and shield his eyes from the light of the torch. It'd been a good few hours since Harry had seen any type of light at all. He was still dressed in his blue night-gown from the hospital and the cell floor was freezing. Harry could see the old man's face now. He looked a nice enough old bloke, a few wrinkles under the eyes and quite saggy skin, so Harry determined that he was about fifty if not sixty. His old grey hair was producing white streaks now and it suited him, in Harry's opinion. Someday, Harry hoped to have a grey streak in his hair, from his ears all the way round but he knew that he'd have to wait a good few years for that to happen.

"I've got to take you downstairs, Mr Black," the old man said, opening the cell door and walking Harry out of his cold cell and onto the cold floor of the corridor. "Got to get you into some clothes for the hearing and so fourth. It's not until tomorrow but the Minister doesn't want you dying on us just before the case."

Harry gave a small laugh. The old guy's joke was quite fitting for the occasion, because if you knew the Ministry, you'd know that they loved criminals hopping the proverbial tree branch just before the trial. It meant less work for them and more work for whoever had to clean up the mess you left. Harry wondered if they actually gave you a length of rope when you were sent to their lesser prisons based around Muggle Britain.

"Some jeans would be nice," Harry said, walking down the corridor towards the staircase.

The old guy laughed. "I can't promise anything that fancy, Mr Black. Only what we've got from…previous occupants."

"Previous occupants?" Harry asked alarmed. He'd be wearing a dead guy's clothes?

They stopped at the top of the staircase and the old guy turned to Harry and held out his wand. "Now, Mr Black. I'm not going to have to use this on the way down am I? You're not going to try anything?"

Harry shook his head and added a "No" for the old guy's benefit. Harry couldn't even see two feet in front of him so for the old guy to see a head movement would be near impossible.

~)*(~

Ron was getting impatient. He'd been waiting in Ginny's living room for the past two hours, waiting for Draco to return from his office job. Ginny had completely informed him about Harry Black and Dumbledore's message, although Ron wasn't quite as convinced as Hermione and Ginny was. He said it was all an elaborate prank or something or other, devised by the Ministry, then he had to remind himself that the Ministry didn't have a sense of humour.

There was a time, Ron remembered, that he did feel like something was missing from his life. It wasn't the absence of Hermione because, despite their mutual break up, remained very good friends throughout their adulthood, from graduation. No, it was something…else. Something Ron couldn't exactly put his finger on. He hated being in the dark about anything and this intrigued him beyond all measure.

"He should be here in a minute," Ginny said, rocking back and forward in the big chair, resting her feet on the coffee table.

Ron sighed and collapsed into the sofa. "That's what you said an hour ago."

"But this time I'm sure," Ginny replied.

"But this time I'm sure," Ron mimicked his little sister. Ginny responded by sticking her tongue out at him. "Where does he work anyway?"

"Somewhere in London," Ginny said. "He Apparates, anyway. Usually, he doesn't get in earlier than this. He's off on a business trip or seeing a client, and to be honest Ron, I'm sick of it."

Ron laughed. "How can you be sick of it? You do the same thing!"

Ginny threw a pillow at her brother. "I may, but Draco says he's going to be home at such a time and he never is. I've had enough of waiting around for him."

"How you ever ended up together is beyond me," Ron sighed. "I ended up with someone simple, a nice and non-evil person and you just had to go for the big guns didn't you?"

"Don't give me the mother speech, Ronald Weasley!" Ginny said, covering her face with a cushion. "I'm not in the mood to hear this. Jeez, how you're going to be a father is logic I have to question."

"Well, you see, when two people love each other, Ginny, they do this thing called…" Ron said, patronising her as much as he could.

"Shut it," Ginny replied, sticking her tongue out again and pouting childishly.

A resounding crack came from the kitchen. Moments later, Draco rushed in and got them to their feet.

"We're off," he said. "Got to go to Azkaban."

~)*(~

Harry dressed in the cleanest clothes he could find out of the pile. He usually wasn't picky but when a guy has probably died in your clothes, it's hard not to pick anything that hasn't been manhandled by a corpse. He made an involuntary shudder and pulled on the pair of boots from the big pile of boots sitting in the corner.

"I guess you get many people coming in from hospital then?" Harry asked the old guy, who was actually called Jim and was sipping a mug of coffee.

He handed the mug to Harry before replying. "Not really. Some come straight from their houses, when the Aurors have gone in and took them from their beds. Some of them are still asleep when they get here."

"Must be a bit daunting to wake up in this place then," Harry said. "It's not exactly a place I would like to wake up in every morning."

Jim shrugged. "I know a guy who was in here from being about your age. He left not long before you came. He was twenty when he came in. He's gone off to Azkaban now."

"He wasn't waiting for his hearing was he?" Harry asked.

Jim laughed and shook his head. "No, he wasn't. He'd been sentenced to here for theft of a Minister's property. I think he took a bottle of ink or something from the Minister's front desk."

"Bit strict for doing something like that," Harry replied, tying the shoelaces.

"Just says that you don't cross Lucius Malfoy," Jim said.

It took Harry all of a few seconds to actually process that.

"Lucius Malfoy? The Minister? Have I slipped into some sort of time dilation or something? Fudge is the Minister," Harry clarified.

Jim shook his head again and took the mug back from Harry. "I think you've been hitting the bottle too much. Fudge is in Azkaban now, just a few days ago. It was announced on the papers."

Everybody in the cell tower must've heard Harry's body hit the floor in a dead faint.

~)*(~

Draco, Ginny and Ron could be seen running up the dark steps of Azkaban and into the horrid entrance hall. It wasn't much of an entrance Hall as Dementors were posted at every column. Ron gave a shudder when he looked at the lifeless and crippled face hanging under the dark hoods. Something about Dementors always frightened him to his very core.

"Please remind me why I'm actually here," Ron said, gulping down his breakfast for the second time that day.

Ginny sighed. "The same reason the rest of us are. Trust me Ron, I don't want to be here much more than you do."

"Well, that's nice for you," Ron replied. "But I just want to get out of here. It really is like Hell isn't it?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I've never been here before."

"Not even to visit Lucius Malfoy on Christmas?" Ron joked.

"Oh please!" Ginny said, stalking off ahead to find Draco.

Draco was looking into a large book on the front desk. A very small Dementor, much smaller than the rest, monitored the front desk. Ron wondered whether or not this was a job you applied to do, like being Death. Was there an application form that got sent out at the Job Centre? It's not a job he'd like to do personally, but if it came down to it and he needed the money, maybe being a Dementor Monitor wasn't a bad job.

Ron reawakened when Draco smashed his hand down on the wooden desk, making a resounding thump.

"What?" Ginny asked, waking up herself from a small sleep.

Draco swore to himself and then clutched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. "He's not here."

The world seemed to come crashing down right at that moment and, with the best precision two siblings could have, Ron and Ginny said, "WHAT?"

"He's not here!" Draco shouted. "Lucius T. Malfoy is not a resident at Azkaban Fortress. He…Is…Not…Here!"

Ginny did a half stride and a half-run to the front desk and looked over the register herself. For a small girl, Ginny could walk pretty damn fast. 'Power Striding' was what she used to call it back in Hogwarts.

"Shit!" Draco shouted, clutching at his blond hair that was no longer slicked back but a mess. He had run his hands through it too many times to be considered sane and usually Draco never touched his slick hair.

"So, what do we do now?" Ron asked, sitting down at a welcoming chair and then wondered home welcoming Azkaban could possibly be. Would the little Dementor Monitor run up in a minute with a cup of tea?

Draco shook his head. "I don't know. I just…don't know."

"Alright," Ron replied. "We now know that Lucius Malfoy is out on the rampage and we know that it must've been Fudge's signature on the release papers."

"So we have to find my father," Draco concluded with a sigh and leant back in his chair. "This is bad. This is very bad."

A girlie type of squeal emanated from Ginny as she waved her hand frantically at the two men to go to her.

"Look!" she pointed at the register at one name.

A look appeared on Draco's face. A look that meant 'We're Doomed' and 'Look! Pretty Colours!' at once.

"Cornelius Fudge!" Ron shouted, almost bouncing with happiness. "What's he in here for?"

Ginny shrugged, "It doesn't say but this means that Lucius must've bended the Ministry's arm or something!"

"Ginny, this tells us nothing," Draco sighed. "This tells us that Fudge has been arrested. Nothing more."

"Forever the optimist, ey Draco?" Ron stated, looking over the register.

"Draco," Ginny started, giving him her best look. "If Lucius is out, and Fudge is in, something must've happened. We've just got to figure out what."

"And pretty damn quick," Draco replied, moving away from Ginny and to the Dementor Monitor.

"Well, at least we know that he's not here," Ron said looking optimistic. "Maybe he's gone on holiday."

"Maybe he's gone on a killing spree," Ginny retorted.

~)*(~

"I have a lovely bunch of coconuts."

"Diddle-lee, diddle-lee."

"There they are standing in a row."

"Bom, bom, bom."

"Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head."

"Give them a twist, a flick of the wrist."

"That's what the showman said."

"SHUT UP!" shouted someone from the opposite side of the cell block, his head up against the bars and a terrifying look on his ugly face. "Shut the hell up before I curse you into oblivion!"

Harry looked at Elliot, the jailbird in the next cell and his singing partner.

"I've got a…"

"SHUT UP!" The man screamed. "SHUT UP!!"

"Will you cut out the racket?" Jim yelled form the staircase. "You're singings bad enough, don't get the other prisoners annoyed will you?"

Harry laughed. He hadn't laughed in a while, almost two days now without anyone who knew where he was. Anyone he'd call a friend on the outside anyway. His hearing and trial had been postponed until Lucius Malfoy could see him. In the cell next to Harry was Elliot. She was a sprightly young girl with long brown hair who liked to sing more than anything. She'd been hauled into here for her trial in a week's time. She didn't like to talk about what she'd done. She said that it was terrible and something she'd never, ever do again.

The lights went out so Harry figured it must be after dark. There were no windows in the complex, just bars and a small cell. The lights only came on when Jim wanted them too but Jim wanted the lights kept on until he went to bed. He was afraid of the dark ever since an incident with one of the cellmates who'd escaped. Nasty business that included some Transfiguration of the poor old chap.

"Harry?" Elliot whispered.

Harry sat down against the wall and yawned. "Yeah?"

"What'll happen if they forget we're here?" she asked. "I mean, what if they forget we're locked up in here and never set us a date for our trial?"

Harry shrugged, then remembered that no one can hear a shrug. "I don't know. They'll probably leave us here to rot."

"That's not funny," Elliot replied. "I'm really frightened of this place."

"I know," Harry said. "It is a bit creepy isn't it?"

"A bit? More like a hell of a lot creepy. I'm getting creeped out just by thinking about how creepy this place is."

"Well don't dwell on it and get some sleep."

"If I could see my bed, I would go to sleep."

"You don't have a bed."

"I don't have a bed?"

"Nope."

"Do you have a bed?"

"At home."

"In there?"

"Nope."

"Then what do you sleep on?"

"I sleep upside down hanging from the rafters."

"Oh hardy flamin' ha."

"Just settle in the corner."

There was a rustling from Elliot's cell, which Harry assumed was Elliot settling herself into the corner and covering her body with the thick blanket Jim had tossed in for her. There was a sudden squeal and a clang of metal hitting metal.

"Harry!" Elliot whispered again making Harry chuckle. "There are spiders in here!"

"No kidding."

Another squeal. "Spiders. In the corner. Oh Merlin, oh Merlin…spiders…"

Harry yawned and couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

"They won't hurt you so just sit down and sleep."

"Easy for you to say. You can incinerate spiders with a clever phrase. I can't even levitate a banana."

Harry chuckled again and was falling into a deep sleep. He felt like he hadn't slept in years, his lids were heavy and his body was aching all over from sitting down all day. His throat was coarse from repeated singing of musicals over and over again.

Harry was scared. He could feel it inside. On the outside he appeared calm, he had to or else someone would find his weakness. On the inside, he was shivering in fright. He couldn't think about anything but his hearing. He knew that Lucius Malfoy was going to sentence him to Azkaban, he knew it deep into his bones. He knew that his nightmares would return, he couldn't run away from his mother's painful screams.

And that night, as his eyes drifted closed, he could almost hear Lily screaming into the cold and bitter darkness, laying in wait for the fate that fell before her.

~)*(~

Hermione had been spending a lot of time in Harry's apartment in the Lloyds Tower. She'd been thumbing through all the old school books on the bookshelves, trying to find some evidence, well, some more evidence that he was at Hogwarts. She believed it, she believed that he was there but…it was hard. It was hard to cope with the fact that a terrorist was not only her childhood friend but also a love interest in her early years.

For all she knew, she could've slept with him time and time over.

That thought made her shudder. It wasn't an unpleasant thought but she didn't know him! Sleeping with someone she didn't even know…correction…that twenty-year-old Hermione Granger didn't know was a tad frightening.

Under any other circumstance, say they'd met at a party a week ago instead and didn't have to go through all this just to end up with Harry in the clear. Lets say they just met, both looking handsome and gorgeous at one of Draco's dinner parties, sat next to each other, hit it off during the wine course and got to know each other that way. Then things would be different. She'd probably be curled up in bed with him somewhere, playing with his belly button in the wee hours of the morning.

But no, life had to slap her with something different. Instead, she was sleeping at the mystery man's apartment and reading his books every chance she got. She had them piled everywhere, open at different pages. They were taking up most of the floor and table space. She couldn't have breakfast without a page of Harry's adolescent scrawl peering at her, begging her to read it.

She'd read all about Harry Potter. It'd been hard to believe at first, that the man that sat on her bed was the saviour of the world at one point in his life. The point when she and Ron were around him the most. True, she'd found him magical just by looking at him. To find out that he's Harry Potter made her put the book down and explore the rest of the books around the apartment.

She found all of his old schoolbooks filled with tiny notes and doodles. He'd drawn his friends on the inside-back covers all with name labels. He was a very good artist and had drawn them all when they were reading or writing. There was a picture of himself riding his broomstick that was copied from a page in the Daily Prophet. The article was stuck inside next to it.

'Harry Potter: Wizard of the World'

Ron was drawn with his fiery red hair bent over his desk, scribbling away. Unfortunately, the pictures couldn't move or they'd be telling Hermione a story she'd forgot. There were several drawings of Neville, Ginny, Draco (with Snape in a very undignified way) and herself.

The one of Hermione made her do a double take. It was perfect. He'd taken up a whole page to draw her on and the sketch looked like it must've taken hours. She was asleep, lying down on the Gryffindor common room couch, Crookshanks napping on her stomach.

Hermione smiled to herself as she looked at the picture. It made her feel warm knowing that Harry had taken his time with this one, made it perfect then signed his name to his work. To know that he'd wanted this picture in such precision was a wonderful feeling for her. To be honest, she never really thought that someone could see her like this. The picture itself seemed to glow magically and the white shading in her cheeks seemed to be brighter than usual.

Harry had seen her the way she wanted to be seen: as herself.

He'd captured her in her most innocent moment and it was a picture she wanted to keep now.

Hermione stood up and walked to the window, looking out over Diagon Alley. All the people bustling by, all the people who never knew about anyone called Harry Potter; the Boy Who Lived.

She knew one thing for sure. She was falling in love again with a man she barely knew and her heart wasn't taking this slow. She was falling hard and fast for Harry and she couldn't control the way her heart was pounding or the ache in her chest when she thought about him.

She knew her world wasn't the same anymore.

~)*(~

Author Note: - I don't know what I was trying to achieve with this but…it's the New Year and my New Year's resolution is to upload more quickly and do better fics than I have previously. I can't say that this is nearly finished but it's nearly there…nearly at the last few legs of its race.