Chapter Three

Anthony Goldstein

Edited: 12/26/07

02:01 a.m.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-Scotland

The Great Hall

The death of Terry Boot wasn't observed with shrieks of startled students but with sobs of impending doom. Dumbledore kneeled with his fingers pressed against the neck of this hour's victim with a sad mask of inevitability on his face.

For this occurrence, Madame Pomfrey was close on hand and all but pushed the headmaster out of the way in a vain attempt to revive the fallen Ravenclaw. Harry watched Ron cradling the quietly sobbing figure of Hermione Granger.

An ever-increasing feeling of inadequacy and impotence fueled Harry's anger as by some unknown dark magic, Voldemort was rapidly whittling away at the closest people that he could ever consider friends. Dispossessing him of any happiness in his life; almost as if it was his goal to push Harry over the edge and into the brink of insanity before the ordeal was concluded.

The only thing Harry was sure of was his anger and the consistent stoking at the fire within to continue on his rampage to find and destroy Voldemort.

He spun around and closed in on Dumbledore and Tonks as she was filling the headmaster in on what had happened at Knockturn Alley.

He interrupted. "We don't have time for this. Just give him the facts."

Tonks looked at Harry with something akin to a bad taste in her mouth. "Fine." She turned back to Dumbledore. "We went to Knockturn Alley and searched Pettigrew, found a hotel receipt and Harry stole that axe he's carrying and cut off Pettigrew's silver hand for some sort of twisted memento."

Dumbledore looked down at the blood stained axe blade and stopped drawing breath. When their eyes met, Harry knew Dumbledore would fall into his swiftly cooling green eyes that had seen far too much horror in their short sixteen years of existence.

"We went to the hotel and found Bellatrix Lestrange waiting for Pettigrew. Harry almost cut off her hand while torturing her for information and we were interrupted by Voldemort."

Harry stood there, cold as the castle walls in late January, watching Dumbledore's eyes on him ... judging him, and yet filling with compassion and pity that Harry had long since rejected.

"Harry was able to drive him away by use of the Killing Curse, but missed. They taunted each other and Voldemort left. Then Harry made ground beef out of Lestrange's chest and face in response."

The headmaster was first to break eye contact and Harry watched as his eyes trailed down to the obvious bloodstains on his cloak and hands.

Tonks looked finished when Harry took over the narrative. "Voldemort wouldn't fight me."

Dumbledore's eyes snapped back on his face.

"He said he'd taken out an insurance policy on today's events, whatever that meant."

"Curious," Dumbledore muttered. "Those were his exact words: An insurance policy on today's events?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he nodded briefly and watched as the wheels in Dumbledore's mind ran. "You know something?"

The headmaster interlocked his fingers in front of his chest and pursed his lips in thought. "Perhaps."

He looked up and found someone who he was looking for. "Miss Granger, your assistance is needed."

Harry swiveled his head to find Hermione lifting her own from the comfort of Ron's chest. She wiped at her tear-streaked face as Ron escorted her to the small group.

"Yes, sir?"

"I would like you and Ron to proceed to the Restricted Section of the Library and withdraw a tome by the title of Diabolistic Dealings of Derrick the Demented." He watched as Hermione nodded her assent. "Do not open the tome as it is warded with a Shrieking Curse. The password to remove the tome from the Restricted Section is Farrow's Feather."

"Yes, sir," she answered.

They turned to leave and Dumbledore added on more direction. "And Miss Granger -- please proceed with all haste. We are under a very stringent time limit."

She nodded and grabbed Ron's hand before she took off at a run.

"You know what this is, don't you -- what Voldemort is doing?" Harry accused the headmaster.

 Dumbldore nodded once. "I have an idea, however I have not perused this particular tome since my days as a student here at Hogwarts, and I would not speculate as to my theory until I have had a chance to examine certain passages of the work of which I spoke."

Harry's face set, as he knew Dumbledore wouldn't budge until he got his way; it was one of his more annoying traits. Tonks seemed somewhat put out as well.

"Who the bloody hell is Derrick the Demented?" she asked.

Dumbledore looked down at the floor. "He was once a trusted advisor of Tomas de Torquemada for ten years before the Dominican died from an unknown cause in 1498."

"Torca--who?" asked Harry.

"Surly, Harry, you have heard of the Spanish Inquisition?" The headmaster saw the look of recognition in Harry's eyes. "Tomas de Torquemada was the Grand Inquisitor, the person in charge, so to speak. It was rumored that Derrick the Demented, a dark wizard, guided the brutality of the Inquisition in search of an unattainable power over death.

"It was by his hand that hundreds of so-called heretics were put to horrible torture to further his experiments. In mid September of 1498, Torquemada somehow discovered that Derrick was in fact a wizard. Coincidently Derrick found what he was looking for and it is speculated it was he who killed the Inquisitor in an attempt to escape his own eventual cleansing."

 

  Harry looked slightly hopeful. "And you think this is tied into what Voldemort is doing tonight?"

Dumbledore nodded once more. "I will know more, once -- ah, I see they have returned."

Mad Eye Moody held open a door to the Great Hall as the two teenagers dashed through. Hermione, holding a large book cradled in her arms, approached. She sat the tome on the table closest to Dumbledore and he immediately traced several complicated runes on the cover of the large book before opening it approximately three-quarters the way through.

He scanned several pages until he eventually found what he was looking for. A resigned sigh escaped his lips as he closed the tome and sat down.

"Well?"  Harry said impatiently.

"It seems that Voldemort has indeed learned how to kill from a distance."

02:13 a.m.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-Scotland

The Great Hall

 "This particular ritual was the precursor to what eventually became the current version of the Unforgivable Killing Curse that we are all familiar with. The Ministry and the wizarding public at large were assured that the ritual had gone to the grave along with Derrick." He paused a short moment in reflective thought. "It appears that they were mistaken."

A dull ache of tension found its way across Harry's neck and shoulders. He stretched his head to the side and clenched his teeth. "So now that we know what it is we can stop it, right?"

Ron, Hermione, and Tonks looked on in silent expectation, but Dumbledore sighed. "To do so we must locate and hold Voldemort until we are able to find his so-called insurance policy. It would be a piece of parchment with the incantation along with those of his victims, inscribed in his own blood." He shook his head with resignation. "Of which both events are highly unlikely."

 

Tonks' face fell into resigned anger. "So we're just supposed to sit around and wait our turn to die?"

Harry's eyes found her face and he breathed out. "No."

"I agree," replied the headmaster. "However, I am at a loss as to how to proceed. To this day we have yet to locate his lair."

Harry clutched his stolen axe. "There are people who know."

Tonks' face brightened slightly. "The Death Eaters at Azkaban. Brilliant, Harry."

"I'm going with you this time," Ron announced.

Harry shook his head. "I need you here, Ron."

The redheaded young man scowled. "To do what? The more of us out there the better."

He looked to Dumbledore for support, but found only a stone face in return.

"Ron, I've got to do things that aren't exactly ..."

"Legal? Moral?" Ron shot back as he looked down at the bloodied axe.

  The tension at Harry's neck increased. "Fine, Ron, we don't have time to argue. Come on and be a monster with me. Maybe you'll find it liberating."

Harry turned away from his friend. "We'll need a portkey, Professor."

02:23 a.m.

The North Sea

Azkaban Fortress

A cold wind tore through their cloaks as they appeared on the rocky shores of the solitary island that hid Azkaban Prison from the rest of the world. The feeling of dread that Harry was expecting was missing from the area. Then it came to him that there were no Dementors left to guard the prisoners within the high walls of the Fortress, only wizard guards.

Tonks led the way with Harry and Ron trailing behind. She was the only one of the three that had ever been on the island due to her tenure as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic.

"Let me do the talking," she warned as they neared the gates.

A solitary guardhouse with a lone occupant stood about ten feet in front of the main gates. Tonks stepped up as Harry and Ron stayed behind at a signal from her hand. Words were exchanged and Harry saw the guard's eyes widen slightly and turn to him to get a better look.

Tonks turned and nodded at Harry whereupon he pulled back his hood and lifted his bangs away to show off the lightening-bolt scar he had carried for the last fifteen years.

The guard visibly swallowed and raised his wand to the gates.

They were led through the muddy main yard to a small building that Tonks explained was for visitors and interviews. It was solitary enough to complete the job they came to do, and Tonks assured him that they would not be disturbed.

The first person that was brought from his cell was the one that Harry had sworn to revenge himself upon at his earliest convenience: Antonin Dolohov.

They had arranged to have another prisoner held just outside at Harry's insistence. He looked at his watch and counted down the precious minutes until the death of Anthony Goldstein. He knew if they had a chance at all of getting any information they had to be quick.

Dolohov was escorted in and seated in a chair reminiscent of the chain-chair on the tenth floor courtroom of the Ministry of Magic.  As soon as he was sat down chains wrapped themselves around his body holding him securely.

Harry turned to Ron. "Last chance to leave, mate. This is going to get messy."

Ron grimaced. "Get on with it already."

Harry looked over at Tonks in the corner holding her wand aloft, ready for any trickery that Dolohov was infamous for. He turned back to the prisoner and ignored the state of his clothes or the smell of his unwashed body.

Dolohov smirked evilly. "I see my master has accomplished the first of his desires."

Harry ignored him. "One chance only, Dolohov."

The secured prisoner almost laughed. "Or what? I'll be put in prison for life?"

Harry's face was unmoved as he removed what he was holding under his cloak and tossed it on the table only a scant few inches away from the reproachful Death Eater.

Dolohov's eyes narrowed at the sight of the severed hand of Peter Pettigrew.

"Recognize it?"

"Looks like someone is in desperate need of a hand," Dolohov joked acidly.

"That would be Wormtail. And I was a little rushed with Bellatrix Lestrange, so I didn't get a chance to take hers, but I do have time for yours."

Dolohov's face hardened. "You lie. Bella would have killed you."

Harry hefted the axe and showed off the bloodstains. "That's hers on top as well as on my hands. Killed her about an hour ago." Harry inhaled sweetly and smiled. "I never knew how good it could feel ... someone else's life in my hands ... someone else's blood ..."

He moved slowly to the right of the chair lifting the axe and laid the blade softly on the forearm of his captive. He sighed with pleasure. "One chance, Dolohov. Where is he?"

Semi-frightened eyes traveled from the blade to Harry's face and saw the resolution sketched there. "I ... I don't ..."

Harry didn't even pause. "That's not the answer I was looking for."

His left hand came up to support the axe as he raised it and brought it down upon the arm of the now screaming captive.

"Bloody Hell, Harry!" Ron yelled before he turned around and emptied his stomach on the floor of the room.

"Next!" Harry yelled over the screaming of his prisoner.

02:37 a.m.

The North Sea

Azkaban Fortress

"Learned some new tricks, have we, Potter?" A high-toned voice drawled from the newest prisoner brought into the interview room.

Harry waited until Lucius Malfoy was strapped into the chair. He picked up the fallen limb of Antonin Dolohov and placed it upon the table beside that of Pettigrew's and watched as Malfoy followed his movements.

"No banter today, Malfoy. I'm on a schedule."

He twirled the axe in his hand. "Just one question. Answer it and you get to keep all of your limbs. Don't and I quarter you right here and make sure you live to enjoy the pain."

The acrid stink of Ron's vomit hung in the air along with the remnants of Dolohov's brief visit before they took him away screaming. Sweat broke out on the forehead of the elder Malfoy. His cold demeanor was held stiff, but in an unconvincing way.

"You can do nothing to me that the Dark Lord couldn't do a thousand times worse, Potter. So take your new toy and run along."

Harry blinked slowly. "Where is he, Malfoy?"

No answer was forthcoming and he sighed deeply before raising his axe.

"Wait!" Ron yelled.

Harry looked over his shoulder. "Want to have a go, Ron?"

The youngest Weasley male swallowed the bile once again rising in his throat. "We'll guarantee Draco's safety."

02:52 a.m.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The Great Hall

"He's at Godric's Hollow!" Harry yelled as soon as their return portkey landed them at Dumbledore's feet. "In the house that replaced my parent's."

Dumbldore looked almost triumphant. "Alastor, Arthur, Harry, quickly."

The headmaster created another portkey and the four of them grabbed a hold along with Tonks. The street in front of the old Potter estate was dark as pitch except for a flickering light coming from the window of a large house that Harry was unfamiliar with.  

He watched as Dumbledore cast an anti-Apparation Jinx over the area and they moved forward.

Mad Eye grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him around the back of the house as Dumbledore, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley took the front entrance.

"Is there anyone inside?" Harry whispered as he watched Moody's magical eye scan the house.

Moody growled. "He's set up some sort of barrier that shields the inside from my eye."

 He held up his wand. "Ready, Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"Explodere!" Moody yelled.

They both watched as the back door exploded into a thousand splinters. Harry pushed past him before the dust settled.

"Wait, you impudent boy," Moody hissed.

"Tommy boy!" Harry called out. "I'm here to kill you."

There wasn't a sound to be heard, no running footfalls, no cries of anger, no magical bolts of light, only silence.

"He is not here, Harry," Dumbledore said as his figure appeared in one of the many hallways.

"Dumbledore, put a leash on your student." Moody called out from behind Harry.  "He could have been killed running in here like that."

 

"He's got to be here!" Harry cried. "Did you try upstairs?" he asked angrily before setting off up the closest staircase.

"Harry!"

"Let him go, Nymphadora; there is nobody here," the headmaster said in defeat. "I must return to Hogwarts and watch as another of my students is claimed."

They were out of earshot before Harry made it to the top of the stairs, throwing open each door as he went past. Heat built up in his face by the time he reached the last door. Rage filled his chest and he let loose a yell of anguish as he opened the door.

"Where are you!" he yelled at nobody.

He had dropped to his knees when he first heard the noise of metal against metal. Yells were heard from downstairs, but he couldn't tell what they were saying. Footsteps were taken upon the stairs and the face of Tonks appeared at the top.

"Harry!"

He ran to meet her in the middle.

"It's a trap!" she almost yelled in his face when he saw a look of fear in her eyes as she looked over his shoulder.

Harry ducked and slammed himself into her midsection, pushing her into one of the rooms and kicked the door closed after they landed on the floor.

"Colloportus!"

 

She pushed out from under him.

"Who's out there?" gasped Harry.

"It was him!" she shuddered.

"Voldemort?"

She only nodded.

Harry stood and neared the door. "Are you out there, Tommy?"

He followed with, "Alohomora!"

His hand gripped the door and he pulled, unsuccessfully.

"Alohomora!" he tried again.

The door was still locked.

"Harry it was a trap. We're locked in this house and locked in this room." Her voice quivered. "He's out there Harry."

3:01 p.m.