PhoenixSong.net :: A Harry/Ginny Fanfic and Fanart Archive

Author: Arnel

Story: Summer Story

Part: 15: Darkness

Rating: Young Teens

Status: WIP

Reviews: 6

Words: 3,876

Updated: September 13, 2008, 1:14pm

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15: Darkness

Captured, Part 1

Pain lanced through Harry's scar, awakening him from his spell-induced stupor. He shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs and get his bearings in the dark. As the scar continued to prickle, he realized that he'd forgotten how much it had hurt him back in fifth year. The pain was back with a vengeance and as he retreated from it into his mind, he glimpsed Voldemort sitting before a fire looking very pleased with the work of his Death Eaters... They have the boy!

Harry shook his head again, hoping his glasses would stay on his nose while willing the pain away, and trying valiantly to understand his predicament. The only thing he could move was his head. He raised it and quickly came in contact with something hard and rounded like a stick. He also seemed to be moving... backwards! He could feel the chill wind flying up his trouser legs and he knew for certain that his situation was worse than he thought; flashes of spell-fire, images of Dumbledore falling from his broken broom, and the terrorizing feeling of being surrounded by a dozen Death Eaters were more than enough for Harry to understand that he and the headmaster were now captives. He groaned inwardly and looked around desperately for Dumbledore.

He found him several yards away, a faintly outlined, Disillusioned weight dangling face-down and bound to a broom that was being towed backwards on a long tether behind a Death Eater's broom. Dumbledore was still unconscious and Harry hoped he would remain that way until the two of them were delivered to their destination... wherever that might be. Harry sighed and continued gazing about him.

They were flying southwest. He knew that because the light was remaining a constant twilight instead of deepening into darkness as it should have if they were going north or north east. With a sinking feeling, Harry realized they were flying away from Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. He breathed deeply to steady himself and peered into the lengthening shadows.

The terrain below him was rocky, mountainous even, and Harry saw several lakes in the distance. This clue to their whereabouts brought fear to his heart: from his primary school geography lessons he knew there were caves dotting the region, and if the Death Eaters were taking him to one of those, there was no hope of a quick rescue; there were simply too many lakes and caverns in the area for a small group such as the Order of the Phoenix to search quickly. He closed his eyes as a feeling of utter hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him.

Several minutes later, Harry became aware of a sinking feeling. He opened his eyes and looked about. Yes, they were descending. An idea formed in Harry's head and he began trying to memorize the view beneath him. There, to his right, was a long lake with a white building on its shore. A short distance away was another smaller lake with a tall mountain on its northern shore as its landmark. Finally, straight in front of him at the confluence of a third lake and a river, were the lights of a small village. As his captors altered their course to his right, Harry thought of Ginny as hard as he could.

Ginny, I need you to see this... really hope this works... He concentrated on showing her the lake with the white building first. Death Eaters flying southwest... I think I'm flying backwards, trussed to my Firebolt... head pointed northeast... this is on my right. Not knowing how long to project the image, but remembering the ease with which he had shown her some of his memories five months earlier, he proceeded to send her his memories of the other two lakes and tell her where he was. When he finished, he sighed and gave in to the urge to panic.

Oh, Merlin! They're taking me to Voldemort... I'm not ready to fight, not yet... Help me, Ginny, someone... I don't want to die! I'm not ready to die!

A little voice inside his head that sounded like Ron's counselled, Easy does it, Harry. Get a grip. For now, you've done what you can. Relax and enjoy the scenery.

Better said than done, Harry grumbled to himself, but he felt more in control than he had when he first regained consciousness. He decided to take the voice's advice because the land spreading beneath him was, indeed, ruggedly beautiful.

The Death Eaters altered their course, descending at a steep angle and turning east towards a large outcropping of rocks. Harry began to panic again. Calm down, Potter, he told himself. You can't do yourself or Dumbledore any good if you don't think straight. Find something else to send Ginny.

Unfortunately, it was now too dark to pick out any distinguishing characteristics other than the fact that there was a large wooded area below him. His last thought before his stomach brushed the top branches of several pine trees was, Ginny, if I don't come out of this alive, always remember that I love you.

The next instant, the Death Eater who was towing him swooped into the mouth of a dimly lit cavern. There was the crunch of gravel as he landed and Harry was sure that he'd scrape his front on the cave floor. He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact that never came. Instead, the Firebolt came to a hovering halt at the exact height it always had, ready for Harry to mount it and fly away properly. For that, Harry was grateful.

Footsteps signalled the arrival of the rest of the group and a voice from further inside the cave boomed, "You're late, Dolohov. I don't tolerate tardiness and neither does the Dark Lord."

Dolohov's voice quavered. "They fought back. Potter fights as good as he flies, Yaxley."

The unexpected compliment nearly made Harry smile.

"We knew that," Yaxley said. "And the old man?"

"No fight left in him. He let Potter do all the casting," Dolohov answered.

"Interesting. Bring them here!" Yaxley barked.

Harry felt something hard hit the top of his head and immediately felt the trickling warmth of the Disillusionment spell being reversed. He quickly closed his eyes, feigning total unconsciousness—it wouldn't do for his captors to discover that he was awake at the moment—and listened carefully to the various conversations around him as he felt his Firebolt being towed farther into the cave.

"He's not going to need this any more," Dolohov said, causing the group of Death Eaters to laugh maliciously. The next instant he muttered "Reducto", and Harry felt his broom shatter as he was unceremoniously dropped at the feet of one of the Death Eaters. Rage swept through Harry and he nearly gave away his wakefulness: the Firebolt had been his last link to Sirius and now it was gone.

Stay calm... breathe... stay calm... slowly... mourn it later, he told himself as someone cast the spell to revive him. He found he could now move his arms and legs and feel the pain of someone tightening the ropes around his ankles.

Someone kicked him hard in the ribs, causing him to roll over onto the splinters embedded in his skin from the Firebolt's handle and stare at the ceiling of the cave. When he winced, the group laughed again at his discomfort.

"Let him have it, Antonin," someone yelled as Dolohov yanked Harry upright by the hair and threw him at Yaxley's feet. Harry moaned quietly as his head hit the ground. The Death Eaters laughed again.

"Good, he's awake," Yaxley commented. "Do you have his wand?"

The Death Eaters fell silent.

"Well, where is it?" Yaxley demanded.

"We don't know," Dolohov mumbled. "Potter dropped it just before we Stunned him."

"You imbecile!" Yaxley yelled. "You knew the Dark Lord wanted that wand! He won't be pleased at your incompetence and neither am I. Crucio!"

Dolohov crumpled to the ground beside Harry, screaming loudly. The sound reverberated through the cave, amplified by the stone walls. Yaxley eventually lifted the spell and addressed Harry.

"I should do that to you," he growled, "but I have my orders to leave you untouched. You think you're so clever. Well, you may not be so cocky after we're through with you."

Harry said nothing.

"Carrow," Yaxley barked. "Get him out of my sight."

"What should we do with the old man?" the Death Eater called Carrow asked, walking up.

"Wake him later at your leisure," Yaxley commanded. "Take them to the cells, but don't touch Potter. Remember, the Dark Lord wants him left alone." Then, turning on his heel, Yaxley walked away, leaving Harry and Dumbledore alone with their captors.

Carrow approached Harry. He severed the ropes around his ankles, heaved him to his feet and began pushing him into the cave. Harry went reluctantly, dragging his feet and trying to trip the man holding his arm in a vice-like grip. He nearly succeeded.

"Oh, no, you don't," Carrow snapped, drawing his wand and muttering, "Petrificus Totalus."

Harry's body stiffened and he fell face down on the rocky floor of the cave. The next instant Carrow's boot found Harry's ribs in a vicious kick that rolled him onto his back. The Death Eater then cast a Hover Charm on Harry and, grabbing him by the hair, began towing him further into the depths of the cave.

The deeper they went, the eerier the cavern became. Torches in hanging brackets lit the way; they threw flickering shadows on the walls and ceiling, illuminating the stalactites that looked like giant, dripping icicles. Harry tried to memorize the route they were taking, but after the sixth or seventh reversal of direction, he lost track of which way to turn and gave up.

Several minutes later, Carrow stopped walking and addressed the masked Death Eater who loomed over Harry. "Which cell?"

The familiar, drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy answered, "Detention Cell Three. Come with me." He lit his wand and walked away.

Carrow turned left and towed Harry down a tunnel, following Malfoy. The tunnel seemed to have been carved from the rock with a spell; its walls and ceiling were gouged with regular marks that suggested the use of a Grinding Spell. The two Death Eaters turned down a side tunnel and eventually stopped. Harry heard Malfoy mutter a spell. The door to the cell opened and Harry was towed into the middle of the room.

"Should I leave him like that?" Carrow asked, laughing sycophantically.

"Remove the spells," Malfoy ordered. "Leave him."

With a flick of a wand, the spells ended and Harry dropped onto the cell floor, banging his head hard as the door thudded shut. Harry closed his eyes against the pain and slipped into unconsciousness.

The drip of water somewhere in the cave penetrated the silence surrounding Harry's mind first. He had no idea how long he lay in the dark, listening to the sound, but as consciousness returned, so did his awareness of pain. His head felt as if it might split open in several places – not only due to the continued prickling of his scar, but the huge bump on the back of his head. He was also extremely thirsty and wondered if part of his problem was dehydration.

He ached all over. His arms were still tied behind his back and his shoulders longed for a change in position. Harry struggled against the ropes binding his wrists, but only succeeded in chafing the skin; he'd need to find something sharp to rub against if he wanted to free his hands. His muscles hurt, too; all the struggling he'd done to try to free himself had only resulted in the tightening of his bonds, which applied more pressure to his overly-strained body. He squirmed about, trying to get comfortable, but discovered the movement just caused the splinters in his back to penetrate deeper in his skin. Trickles of blood matted Harry's shirt to his back, adding to his discomfort. He stopped moving and listened again.

There was sound in the cell he hadn't heard when he first came to. Harry listened closely and heard the unmistakable rasp of someone wheezing.

Taking a chance Harry whispered, "Professor Dumbledore, is that you?"

The wheezing stopped and Harry's fellow captive responded, "Yes. Harry, are you all right?"

Relief flooded through Harry. "I'm fine, sir."

"Have they mistreated you in any way?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not much. Dolohov and Carrow dropped me on my head a few times," Harry replied dryly, trying to make light of their situation. He cringed involuntarily as his scar throbbed again; Voldemort was angry, about what was unclear. Harry tried to focus on Dumbledore as he asked, "Are you hurting, Professor?"

Dumbledore's sigh told Harry all he needed to know. "Let's just say the curse is making itself known, Harry. If I keep warm and don't move too suddenly, I'll muddle through this ordeal."

"I know you will, sir," Harry said bracingly. He struggled to sit up and then scooted towards the sound of Dumbledore's voice. He found the headmaster shivering on the floor several feet away and lay down next to him, hoping his body heat would warm the old wizard a little.

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said after a pause. "Your warmth feels wonderful."

"That's what Ginny says when it's snowing outside," Harry responded, his voice cracking with emotion as longing for her came to the surface. Will I ever see her again? he wondered.

The two lay in silence until the door opened and two Death Eaters stomped over to the prisoners. Without a sound, one of them cast a full Body-Bind Curse on Harry. They grabbed Dumbledore by the arms, causing him to cry out, and hauled him from the cell, leaving Harry alone, paralysed and frightened in the darkness.

The loss of movement only fuelled Harry's fears. The darkness pressed in around him; it hid unknowns, concealed dangers and played with his judgement. It seeped into his psyche and made him doubt his ability to cope with being alone, tied up and unable to move. It made him remember things he didn't want to and, much the same as when he was visited by Dementors, it showed him the worst memories of his life, including his failed attempt to get Dumbledore back to Hogwarts safely...

"Harry, I would like you to travel only with your broom and wand on the journey back to Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore requested as they prepared to Apparate back to Glasgow.

"Any special reason, sir?" Harry asked, unbuckling his rucksack from his back. "Should I keep the Invisibility Cloak?"

"You will not need it," Dumbledore said. "As for me, this will be the last Apparition I ever do. I am extremely tired and wish a more leisurely flight back to Hogwarts."

"Last Apparition, sir? How come?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"I am weak, Harry. Apparition is a power-consuming spell at the best of times over long distances. As sick as I am, I am not certain I will have the power in the future to Apparate any distance at all. I hope you understand," Professor Dumbledore admitted.

He looked away as Harry said, "I understand."

They were silent for a bit, then Dumbledore said, "I know flying back to Hogwarts will take more time and it might even invite Death Eaters to shadow us. They may even engage us in an airborne duel, but it is a chance I must take in order to preserve my strength. I am sorry, Harry."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Airborne duel?"

"Yes. My source here in Godric's Hollow has alerted me to an elevated degree of Death Eater activity further north, Harry. We must be alert and unencumbered if we are to fly safely from Glasgow to Hogwarts."

"I see," Harry said, pulling his wand from his back pocket and pointing it at his rucksack.

Dumbledore laid a hand on Harry's arm, stopping him from casting the spell. "Thank you for sending your things ahead. I'd hate to have those wonderful memories we made today taken from you."

The implication of danger descended upon Harry like a ton of bricks and he quickly Banished his rucksack to his suite's sitting room sofa. "I'm ready, sir, whenever you are," he said, stowing his wand and taking hold of Dumbledore's arm. He wished Dumbledore would trust him to Apparate them both to Hogsmeade, but knew the old wizard had his reasons.

A sudden, intense pain knifed through Harry's scar, causing his eyes to water. Voldemort's high, angry voice filled Harry's head, overriding his musing, and two figures in a dimly lit room became visible.

"You have failed, Yaxley!" Voldemort snarled. "I gave you specific orders to bring me Potter's wand. Yet, you bring me only excuses for why you do not have it, even though you have the boy!" He withdrew his wand from his pocket and raised it, almost leisurely, at the man cringing before him on the floor. "I will not tolerate such sloppiness. Crucio!"

Yaxley doubled over, screaming. Harry's scar seared, driving the vision from his head and leaving him sick and shaking on the cell floor. The vision had cancelled the Body-Bind and he rolled away from the pool of vomit and lay panting, facing the door, as soon as he felt well enough to move. It was a while before he could settle back into the memories of the trip back to Hogwarts again.

The Apparition back to the glen on the outskirts of Glasgow seemed to take much longer than it had that morning. Harry landed heavily, gasping for breath and clutching the stitch in his side. He immediately turned to look at Professor Dumbledore; the old wizard's face above his beard was chalky in colour and he trembled violently. Harry quickly guided him to a nearby log where they sat quietly for a time.

Dumbledore eventually felt well enough to continue. They Disillusioned themselves, mounted their brooms and began the flight north. Harry kept a wary eye out for disguised fliers like themselves, but the sky remained clear.

Their conversation was easy, centring on the history of Godric's Hollow and the members of Harry's family buried in the crypt. Dumbledore had known many of those who had lived in James and Lily's house and he identified several of the people Harry remembered from the Mirror of Erised. However, the more they talked, the slower they flew, until it was too dark to see Dumbledore's terrain-coloured outline.

"Shouldn't we fly faster?" Harry asked, feeling guilty that he was anxious over how far they still had to fly. "Where are we?"

"Hogwarts is over the second ridge," Dumbledore said, pointing. "Our light is fading swiftly. I agree we should fly faster." He sped up and Harry followed.

However, almost immediately, Harry regretted his request; the closer they flew to Hogsmeade, the more visible Dumbledore became. Hogwarts came into view and Harry let out a sigh of relief; they were nearly home.

The spells came out of nowhere. Six jets of blinding light, all aimed at Dumbledore's Moontrimmer, whizzed past Harry and hit the ancient broom at the same time. Dumbledore shouted as the handle exploded and he began tumbling through space. Harry, his Quidditch reflexes kicking in, dove instinctively and snatched the old man from the air before he fell too far.

"There's Potter!" a familiar voice yelled. "After him!"

"I've got you, sir! Hold on!" Harry yelled, hauling Dumbledore onto his broom while dodging several spells. He threw up a shield and looped around towards the village; if he could reach Hogsmeade he had a chance of landing and making it a fairer fight.

The Death Eaters pursued them doggedly, each firing spells at Harry's shield so fast that Harry's head began to spin. A spell struck his broom's tail causing it to slow considerably and Harry pointed his wand over his shoulder and returned fire: a scream told him his jinx had hit its mark. Desperately, Harry urged the Firebolt to its maximum speed, but with two riders the crippled broom just managed to stay airborne. Their pursuers closed in steadily.

Professor Dumbledore wasn't any help. Barely conscious enough to cling to the Firebolt's handle, he nearly fell several times. Harry feared that they wouldn't make it to the village: he could only fly for Apparition might kill his companion.

They were over the outskirts of Hogsmeade when the Death Eaters finally surrounded them and Harry could fly forward no more. Everywhere he looked black-robed figures hovered in an ever-closing circle. The same terror that had filled Harry in the Little Hangleton graveyard on the night of Voldemort's rebirth now flooded his mind and soul. The Death Eaters were going to take him to Voldemort, make him fight the battle he knew he was still unprepared for... he was going to lose because Voldemort still had ties to his soul someplace in the world. He, Harry, would fail spectacularly and the Wizarding world would be plunged into chaos because of his failure.

Harry cast a few more hopeless spells thinking, "I can't hold them much longer!" And then, as more Stunning Spells than he had ever had levelled at him sped towards him and Dumbledore, he thought, "Oh God! Ginny!" and Banished his wand, hoping against hope that his wandless spell had worked and that she would somehow get his wand.

The memory faded as the Stunning Spells found their targets. Once again, Harry lay alone and miserable on the hard stone floor of his cell. He felt terrible. For the first time in his life, he had failed at more than just catching the Snitch, and now both he and Professor Dumbledore were paying the price.

A/N: Now you know what happened during the airborne duel. And yes, poor Harry his most definitely feeling quite guilty over the fact that his birthday outing is the reason he and Dumbledore now find themselves in a very unpleasant situation… and this is only the beginning.

I have several thank yous to dish out and I'll start with you, my readers. The response to the last chapter was overwhelming and I sincerely appreciate everyone who took the time to tell me what you thought of the chapter. I hope this and future chapters will inspire you to comment when you're done reading, just as Chapter 14 did. I am always grateful to GhostWriter for the encouragement, suggestions and general comments he makes every time he looks over a chapter. I always look forward to his response whenever I send him a new chapter. Finally, Aggiebell, you needn't get violent over the fact that Harry wonders whether he'll ever see Ginny again. I assure you, as I did several months ago, that all's well that ends well… we just have to get all the right characters back together again, right? Thanks for your help with my perpetual comma problem and every one of your delightful asides made me smile… and no, I think you'll just have to wait like everyone else to discover why Harry's wand is so important to Voldemort.

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