Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is property of J.K. Rowling. The Plot and Challenge is the Intellectual Property of Fullsailnate.
Notes from FullSailNate: This was another good chapter…But the writing was sub-par. I loved the idea, but it needed some serious editing, and I managed to re-write the whole thing before I was done, and ended up adding nearly a thousand words to it. Since I did that, Shreve didn't feel right taking full credit, so I'll consider it a collaborative effort. Enjoy!
Chapter 3: Where Punishment is Dealt
Author: Shreve & Fullsailnate
To muggle eyes, it was just another storm. Dark clouds rumbled over the North Sea. Muggles who looked to the north from their coastal homes prayed that the evil-looking storm didn't turn south. A storm like that could cause serious damage.
A lone wizard stood on the cliffs. He was watching with a mixture of terror and disbelief as flocks of dementors were flying into the clouds, making the storm increase in severity. Lightning lashed the ground of a small island. The man knew that the island was where Azkaban prison was located. The ancient prison was being bombarded by magic. Magic that had remained unseen for thousands of years.
The man looked at his reflection in his silver hand. He knew his time was growing short. Death was coming. Peter Pettigrew lifted his head and laughed; there was no humor in the sound. He was wondering where Harry was going to find a pale horse.
Ernie Longbottom was not having a good day. Fifteen years of faithful service to the Ministry, and now he was shuttled to this dead-end. He had worked hard to make it up through the ranks. It wasn't his fault he hadn't found his place. Nothing really ever worked out for him in the long run. Something always happened. It was never really his fault, but people blamed him anyway. They said he was unlucky. How could he have known that Minister Fudge was walking down the hall? Mr. Bumboyle had said to get him a new box of green-mold mites as soon as possible. No one told him that green-mold mites loved to eat silk. Who wore silk to work anyway? It really wasn't his fault that the Minister wasn't watching where he was going, the arrogant bastard. It wasn't his fault that the supply clerk hadn't properly secured the lid of the box. So, it wasn't his fault that the green-mold mites had decided to eat the Ministers robes right before a press conference. Well, the Minister said that it was, and that was that. Now he was the newest guard of Azkaban.
It really wasn't that bad of a job, but there wouldn't be any advancement. He mostly just stood by the front gate or on one of walls. It wasn't like anyone wanted to visit the awful place. Sometimes he had to walk to halls, check on the prisoners, and look for anything out of the ordinary. They didn't do much; most of them just lay there and stared off into space. Last night had been different. It wasn't his fault. He'd told Waters that the Death Eaters seemed suspicious. Waters had told him to be quiet and get back to work. Two hours later, Lucius Malfoy had tried to lead a prison break. How that man had managed to get a dozen others out of their cells was beyond him. Two guards were in the infirmary. Ernie wasn't happy about the burns on his arm or his lack of eyebrows. Somehow, it was his entire fault, or at least that's what the Warden had said. Tonight, he was on guard duty in the tallest tower looking for any boats. It had to be the worst job in the prison. The wind was brutal up there.
Ernie entertained himself by watching a gigantic storm brewing on the horizon. It really was beautiful in its own cold, destructive way. He remembered his first job at the Ministry, where he worked as an intern for the Forces of Nature Department. The Forces of Nature Department was always called to investigate any of the catastrophic natural events. Major storms had to be checked for any magical signature; never knew when some wizard might get the idea that causing a major disaster might be good for a laugh. Out of sheer boredom, he cast a detection spell. Better safe than sorry, his Uncle Algie always said. He really didn't expect much at this distance. The spell reacted with the cloud, and shot back at him with a power he had never seen before. The impact of the spell knocked him off his feet, and nearly pushed him over the edge of the tower.
Magic was all over that storm. He had never seen, or even heard of a storm like this one. He pulled his omnoculars from inside their pouch, and put them to his eyes. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until he zoomed in to look closer. Bits and pieces of some sort of cloth were visible at the low-power zoom. Ernie zoomed in closer, and dropped the omnoculars in shock. The tattered, ragged robes were something that had haunted his dreams from the very first time he'd seen them. Dementors were flying in the clouds, and seemed to be herding the clouds his way.
"Dementors!!" Ernie screamed into a sound tube. "Dementors inbound!!" The tube echoed his warning far into the prison, but Ernie's luck struck him out again. Brian Vicks was sitting at the other end. Poor, unlucky Ernie didn't know that Brian was reading, and didn't like the sound of the wind blowing across the roof tube. Brian had plugged the tube with a transfigured cork so he could read in peace. No warning was received. No guards were ready when the attack came. Ernie watched in horror as the storm finally reached the outer wards of the island, and hundreds of dementors broke through the cloud. Lightning ripped its way through the wards. Ernie ran from his post as the torn fields shattered.
Minutes flew past as he ran down the steps of the tower. He had to warn someone; he just couldn't allow the guards to be taken unawares. He turned down a corridor. There were two dementors at the other end. They forced him to turn and take a different route. Ernie ran like, well, a man chased by soul-sucking monsters. He ran like his life depended on it. The dementors were everywhere, and some of them were chasing him. He knew that there was no way he could out-run them, yet somehow he was doing just that. He was standing in front of the warden's office before he even noticed he wasn't alone anymore. Many of the other guards had run like he did.
"Damn things are herding us." One of the others said. By Merlin, Ernie thought, he was right. The dementors were chasing them in a specific direction, forcing them to run in a certain direction. Ernie was proud to say that he was a great student when he was in Hogwarts, and he could produce a corporeal patronus. It wasn't much, but it had landed him his job in the Ministry. He turned and cast the spell; a slightly wispy robin flew from his wand, and charged at the dementors. Ernie watched with growing pride as they pulled back. The shortest one of the dementors didn't stop. The monster reached out and let his patronus land on its alabaster-skinned finger.
"Beautiful," the creature whispered. Ernie and the other guards almost had a collective heart attack. The dementor wasn't affected by the only defensive spell they had, and it spoke English. The dementor turned and spoke to its allies. The dementor language was horrific. It was like rusty nails on a chalkboard. That's when Ernie noticed that this peculiar dementor wasn't floating like the rest. It was walking.
"That's a wizard. Look at his feet." Ernie muttered to the other guards. He watched as the man walked away, holding the robin patronus. The Dementors resumed herding the guards until they finally ended up in the second floor receiving area. There were five other guards there, and the warden as well.
The warden tried to keep control of the situation for the next couple hours. The situation was not good. The floo had been disconnected. The wards, designed to stop escapes, prevented reinforcements from portkeying or apparating to their aid, and also stopped the guards from getting away. They were trapped. The only thing that encouraged them was seeing others escaping on the ferry, but even that didn't make sense. The ferry kept coming back to get more people. They could see guards escaping in groups. The prison didn't have many guards, but they could see the uniforms of their comrades from the window. Each small group of guards was guarding a small group of prisoners also.
"HELLO!!" Someone yelled. The guards all got ready. They knew that their lives were over. It was just a matter of how many people they could take with them. Ernie watched as Stan Shunpike walked slowly down the corridor, hands raised above his head. The dementors were mysteriously absent. "Don't hurt me! I have a message." Ernie had his wand ready to blast the prisoner.
"What makes you think I should listen to you?" The warden sneered. Wow, Ernie though to himself, the man sure did talk big with a dozen guards around him, even if he was trapped by several hundred dementors.
"I was told to get everyone and leave. This is the last group." Stan replied. He had certainly seen better days. Ernie remembered him from the couple times he used the Knight Bus. His prison uniform looked brand new, which made sense when you considered that he'd only been there for a few months, but the poor kid already had lines around his eyes. Ernie knew that look. Stan had been 'touched.' That is what the guards called it when the prisoners began to show signs of Azkaban-induced madness.
More lightning flashed outside. Bolts of pure blue-white energy tore across the sky. Ernie looked out the window and saw wizards on broomsticks. Help had arrived, but his hopes were quickly dashed as another flock of dementors took to the air. They were defending the island from invasion, Ernie realized. The magical storm was on their side, also. The horror of the dementor defense was apparent immediately. Ernie could see boats trying to make the crossing. He silently willed them to turn back; to run away. It was no use. Ernie watched, horrified, as dementors began lifting prisoners into the air. They were using the prisoners to dive-bomb the boats. The soulless bodies were crashing into the boats, and most of the boats broke under the massive impact of the body. Ernie watched in terrified disbelief as the wizards were fought off. The entire battle only took a few minutes. The lightning stopped lashing at the wizards when they stopped attacking and pulled back. At least, Ernie thought, the dementors were allowing the wizards to rescue the fallen.
"He told me…He said that this was his now. That the wizards had no rights to it anymore." Stan muttered.
"We have to get out of here, before he decides that we're more valuable as hostages." The warden stated. "Stan." The thin, dazed prisoner turned to look at him. "How are we supposed to leave?"
"Head down the stairs, and leave right through the front gate. He said…he told me that the ferry would be there for us." Stan pointed at the docks. The ferry had returned. The warden stood up straight. Ernie was glad to have him here. The man was an idiot, but the authority that the man had meant that Ernie didn't need to make decisions and that just made him feel better.
"Alright everyone, let's try and be calm. Stay together, and watch each other's backs. We are getting out of here." The warden marched through the door, and everyone followed. There was a group of dementors at either end of the hallway. They weren't moving. The way to the stairs was clear. They moved down the stairs, and the dementors closed the way behind them. They were pushing them, but gently. It was as if they were being moved out as politely as a hostile takeover could be.
Ernie almost fainted in the courtyard. Once, over ten years earlier, when Ernie was an assistant to Minister Millicent Bagnold, he had come to Azkaban and seen the dementors. There had been maybe two hundred of the foul things. There were at least five hundred dementors in the courtyard of the prison, and more lining the battlements. Never in his life had Ernie imagined that there could be that many of the creatures. That wizard, the one who had called his patronus beautiful, stood just outside the massive gate. Several dozen dementors flanked either side of him.
"Who are you?" The warden yelled, badly shaken. Ernie was scared. No one man should have had that much control of the dementors, and no idiotic prison warden should risk angering the man who controlled the creatures that well.
"Me?" The man asked. "I am the lord of this castle. Here, on my island, I rule all that I survey." Lightning crackled across the sky. A glow of magical power emitted from the man. "And you, wizard, are trespassing." It was almost too much for Ernie. He just wanted to get to the boat.
"You are under arrest!" The warden shouted. It took a lot of guts, or a complete absence of brains, to threaten a man who could end your existence in an instance. The other guards, by the looks of them, were thinking the latter.
"You have no authority here. This is my home; I have the authority." The man stated. Ernie really wished he could look under that cowl and see what the man looked like, but had a feeling that he wouldn't survive the experience. "I do have a parting gift. Bring him." Two dementors dragged Lucius Malfoy to the wizard. They forced the cowering blond man to his knees. The man grabbed Malfoy's head by the hair, and jerked his head back. He placed his other hand over Malfoy's face, covering his eyes, nose, and mouth. Lucius began to scream as Ernie watched a trail of silvery slime start to trickle from Malfoy's ears, trickling towards the man's hand. The man yanked his hand back suddenly, and Malfoy's scream was cut off. The man raised his hand to his face, and ate the silver slime.
"Take the body with you. Tell the Minister that I do enjoy the taste of the corrupted. You may leave now." The man walked into the prison, which Ernie guessed was his home now. The flock of dementors gathered around them. They didn't get too close, but it had that crowded feeling to it. Ernie and the others looked down at the now soulless body of Lucius Malfoy. They had seen dementors feed before. Dementors sucked the soul out through the mouth. Malfoy's face was bloody, bleeding from the nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. It was apparent that his soul had been ripped out without a care about how painful it was. It was unnatural, Ernie decided. Ernie revised his opinion of the thing that had taken the prison from them. No human being could do what that thing had done.
They grabbed the body and fled. The ferry passed several broken boats. The aftermath of the first battle of Azkaban was visible everywhere. The guards helped a few aurors into the ferry. Ernie leaned back against the side of the ferry, and chanced a look at the warden, who was looking right at him. Ernie knew that look; the look told him exactly who the blame was going to fall on. He sighed. It really wasn't his fault.
A/N: What did you think? I really need some feedback, and somebody better send me a new chapter...This is the ONLY entry for chapter 3! If you only have an idea, send it! I'll work with it, and we can call it a collaberation! Please, please, please don't just sit around and wait for somebody else to write it...This is round robin! everyone gets a turn!