Harry Potter and the Fortress of Woe

a/n: Blzf, Voldemort wants Harry alive, after all he is not sure what will happen to him if someone else kills Harry. Sandro was hired to capture Harry, not to kill him. Oh and Anon, thanks for the praise and no, I don't have a full version of this story posted anywhere, there only was a time when I neglected updating here on aff.net, due to the lack of reviews. Therefore ff.net was a few chapters ahead, but the two sites are at the same level now. Enjoy!

Harry felt his feet hitting the ground shortly after the shadow had grabbed him. He knew that only minutes could have passed but it had felt like eternity to him. Still completely blinded and in his attacker’s vicelike grip, he tried to find out somehow where he had been brought. Judging by the frigid air surrounding him and the sharp wind howling around him, he was standing somewhere outside in a rather unprotected location; maybe on a clearing or on a plateau. The thought caused a tiny bit of hope to erupt in his heart. If he was out in the open, then the Order members, who were without doubt already searching for him, would be able to spot him easily. All he had to do was to buy time and that was not going to be that difficult, right? For a moment Harry hoped that Voldemort would be waiting for him here, because the arrogant dark mage tended to be rather talkative when confronted with his favourite enemy. One day, Riddle’s tendency to view all other people as harmless would be his downfall, but Harry doubted that it would happen today. He was jerked out of his thoughts, by the darkness disappearing around him, leaving him able to see in what kind of situation he had gotten himself this time.

He was indeed standing on a plateau, which was part of the various mountains surrounding Hogwarts. Harry could see the school on the horizon and he knew that the wooden foothills surrounding the mountain were part of the Forbidden Forest. Even if he managed to escape, getting through the forest in one piece would be difficult to say the least.
“I see you brought him.” said an all too familiar voice to Harry’s right. Harry’s head whipped around and he found himself face to face with his old Potion teacher, who was accompanied by two burly men in Death Eater outfits, whose faces where hidden by masks. “Hello Potter, long time no see.”
“You!” shouted Harry, his blood starting to boil as he looked into the face of the man he loathed even more than Voldemort himself. Subconsciously he tried to flick his wrist to draw his wand, which was still stored in the holster strapped to his right hand, but discovered that his hands had been bound behind his back. He tried to break free from his shackles, but realized almost immediately that it was impossible. The material was too strong to break free and his confinements to tight to wiggle free. He was helpless.

“Was there ever any doubt that I would succeeded?” asked a voice from behind Harry. “I admit that my ‘grab and run’ method is not innovative or particularly complicated, but innovation is overrated anyway and often simple things work better than complicated ones, don’t you agree Severus?”
Harry craned his neck to see who was speaking, wanting to find out who had managed to capture him so effortlessly. A shiver ran down his spine as he looked into a man’s face made completely out of shadows. A corporeal shade! That explained a lot! Hermione had once started to talk about undead in general and shades in particular during the time they had spent revising for their O.W.L.s. Ron had of course tuned her out, but Harry had listened and actually remembered a bit of her evaluation.

Shades were vengeful spirits, which hated all living and normally killed every still breathing thing they could lay their claws upon, no matter what. They were the hate filled souls of the murdered, who hated their murderers enough to return from the dead in a twisted form of themselves. Depending on the power of the deceased person and the hatred driving it, the shade grew more powerful and turned from a cloud of black smoke into a more substantial form. Allegedly it was possible for a shade to get a body similar to his original form, combining the advantages of a shade with the ability to manipulated objects as easily as an ordinary human. Also these corporal shades retained at least some of their mind, evolving from mindless killers to insidious and cunning creatures. Harry had always considered the rumours a bit exaggerated, but apparently they were true. He briefly wondered what kind of loathing was necessary to become such a powerful undead and what could possibly cause it, but his thoughts were chased away as Snape spoke up again.

“As much as you like to talk about your incredible talent as an assassin, I would really like you to hand Potter over to me.” said Snape impatiently. He was smiling wickedly, apparently savouring his victory over Harry. “And yes Potter, it is me, did you really believe that we would not meet again? You will be kneeling in front of the dark lord before the day is over. If my master is feeling particularly merciful, then he may let you die after an hour or so of torture.”
“I doubt that!” replied Harry, spitting on the floor in front of Snape. “Before the day is over, I will be dancing on your grave, you bloody traitor and Voldemort will be next in line!”
“Your arrogance knows no bounds Potter.” replied Snape smiling. “You are merely a schoolboy of mediocre talent and you will never be able to best either me or my lord. Was the little demonstration I gave you at the end of the last year not enough to show you your limits?”
“That was a long time ago.” answered Harry grimly, his gaze boring into his former professor eyes, loathing evident on his face. “I have learned a lot in the past months and you will find it out firsthand how much progress I made sooner or later. You are still the same coward you always were, letting others do the hard work, before claiming the credit.”
“You should not confuse cowardice with cleverness Potter, but as a true Gryffindor you probably don’t even know the difference.” said Snape dismissively. “Hand him over Sandro.”

“I would like my payment first.” growled the shade assassin, placing a claw on Harry’s shoulder and gesticulating with the other. “I have made it a habit not to trust anyone and I am not going to change this rule anytime soon. Especially not when dealing with Death Eaters.”
“Fair enough.” replied Snape, even though his displeasure was evident on his face. “Here, catch!”
The former potion master produced a small leather pouch out of his robe’s pocket and flung it at the assassin, who caught it effortlessly. The moment his hand closed around the item a wave of energy flowed over Sandro’s body and he was suddenly covered in a two inches thick ice carapace. Snape had immobilized him!
“Miller, get Potter, while I finish this.” said Snape, smiling at the helpless assassin. “My master was not in the mood to pay you Sandro and you should not know that we consider everyone who is not an ally as an enemy. Good bye Sandro and thanks again for bringing us Potter.”

One of the Death Eaters grabbed Harry the moment as Snape raised his wand. Harry tried to struggle, but his hands were still tightly bound and he was no match for the physically superior goon. Harry could only watch in despair as the Death Eater started to drag him away from the assassin, probably to prevent him from getting hit by whatever curse Snape was going to use on the shade. For a moment despair filled Harry’s mind, his helplessness was driving him mad. He knew that he was not ready to face Voldemort now, not without his wand and not with three Horcruxes still intact. He had to get away now!
“Avada Kedavra!” screamed Snape as soon as Harry was out of harm’s way. The irony that Snape was protecting him to sign his death warrant did not escape Harry and a bitter chuckle escaped his throat. He did not care about the assassin, but if Sandro could somehow evade the curse, then maybe he could slip away in the erupting fight.

Harry was lucky. A heartbeat before the jet of green light would have hit the shade assassin straight into the chest, the ice imprisoning him burst into a storm of shards. A hole formed with lightning speed in Sandro’s chest, so that the Killing Curse sizzled harmless through it instead of ripping his life away. The assassin did not even wait for the void in his torso to close, before attacking.

Two bursts of midnight black needles erupted from his arms, aimed at the two Death Eater accompanying Snape. The deadly hail was fast, way too fast for the unsuspecting victims to react. Unfortunately, Harry was still carried along by one of them and therefore was standing directly in the line of fire. Fortunately, he, contrary to his captors, had been alert and had his seeker’s reflexes to help him. Harry let himself fall to the ground a split second before the needles struck home. He heard a disgustingly wet sound the same moment he hit the hard earth, followed by two screams and silence. As he dared raising his head again, he saw Snape and Sandro locked fierce battle.

“No one betrays me and lives, prepare to die, fool!” snarled the assassin, firing another volley of needles, which Snape blocked with a summoned stone wall, before answering with another Killing Curse. Sandro effortlessly dodged Snape’s attack and leaped at the potion master, clawing him across the face, before having to retreat to avoid getting hit by Snape’s counterattack.
“We will finish this another time, Sandro.” snarled Snape, blood flowing down his face. One of his hands disappeared in his robe pocket and he disappeared, obviously having activated a Portkey. Harry was alone with the assassin.

- - - - -

Hope flared in Harry’s heart as soon as Snape had been forced to retreat. Maybe the assassin called Sandro would simply let him go, after all the deal he had agreed upon with Voldemort was cancelled. On the other hand Harry was a very valuable prisoner and the odds were high that Sandro would simply keep him until someone bought him free. The thought send shivers down Harry’s spine. His hands were still bound, rendering absolutely helpless against a foe as formidable as the assassin. Harry sighed into the still morning air, it was one of those days were you really should have stayed in bed.

Harry’s gaze travelled unto the assassin’s form, who stood stock still on the very ground were Snape had disappeared, his face a grimace of rage. Harry knew it was prudent to lay low for a while, until most of his captor’s anger had been evaporated. He had seen how nonchalantly the shade killed and he had no desire to raise its body count.

So he waited.

A heartbeat appeared to last an eternity as Harry awaited a change in the shade’s behaviour, knowing that every moment could be his last one. Finally, after what felt like eons, Sandro relaxed, his face returning to normal. His claws clenched and unclenched a few more times, before his rage was finally spent. Sandro turned around and saw Harry lying there in the mud, hand still bound behind his back.
“You are still here?” he asked the youth, surprise in his voice. “I thought you had run away as soon as the trouble with Snape started. The deal is over, get lost kiddo!”
“Oh I really would like to, but I find it kind of hard to rise from the ground without being able to use my bloody arms.” snapped Harry in reply.
“Well, after everything I have heard about you, I am kind of disappointed that you can’t free yourself.” said the shade, his face twisted into something which might have been a smile. “Alright then, there you go!”

Harry’s shackles vanished and he immediately rose from the ground. He started to massage his hurting wrists, but made sure to be ready to draw his wand at every time. He was far too experienced to even remotely trust someone as ruthless as a professional killer and while Sandro did not appear to be manipulative, it still could be that he had second thoughts about allowing Harry to leave.

“Well, I will get going then.” he said more to himself than to Sandro, who was currently busy scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment.
“You do that.” replied the Shade in a bored voice. “I have to write this complaint to the assassin guild and then I will prepare my little revenge against these double-crossers.”

Harry could not help himself, a small smile slipped unto his face at the thought of having a new pseudo ally in his fight against Voldemort. Maybe the day was not so bad after all. His gaze fell on the mangled forms of the two Death Eaters who had been accompanying Snape. It was definitely unhealthy to have the shade assassin as an enemy. Suddenly he spotted something small and glittering lying in a puddle of blood on the ground next to one of the corpses. Allured, Harry bent down to examine it. It was a tiny bottle, not larger than his small finger and something about it seemed familiar, but could not put his finger on it. He decided to take it with him and show it to Hermione, maybe her amount of almost unending knowledge would help him to solve this riddle.

Without another word, he turned around and started his track back to Hogwarts through the Forbidden Forest. It was going to be a long march.

- - - - -

Harry sank into the comfortable chair with a sigh of relief. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and he were once again sitting in the Room of Requirements, having retreated into the room’s solitude to discuss the day’s events. Harry had arrived back in school almost two hours after an exhausting trek through the famous Forbidden Forest. McGonagall had already been waiting for him at the front gates, as he arrived there sweating and gasping for breath, but otherwise unhurt. After calling back the teams searching for him outside of Hogwarts, she had brought him to her office, wanting to know what had happened to him yet again. Harry had told her everything except for the mysterious bottle he had pocketed. He did not even really know why he had omitted this piece of information, but he would definitely tell Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Maybe it was good to have a few trumps up the sleeve, just in case they had to work together closely with the Order in the next future. Harry knew that there were a lot of things McGonagall kept from him and the other Order members and he had no intention to reveal all of his knowledge unless they did so as well.

He had met with his two best friends and his girlfriend nearly half an hour ago and had spent the last twenty minutes explaining to them what had happened, also mentioning the bottle he had acquired.

“Hm.” said Hermione thoughtfully, as she examined it. “This is definitely a magical item, but I am not sure about its properties. If you want me to Harry, then I will try to find out what exactly is in this bottle. It may take a few days though.”
“That would be great Hermione.” replied Harry, stroking a few stubbles on his chin while thinking hard. The fact that Sandro had been able to capture him so effortlessly was nagging at him, especially because he knew that Voldemort was many times more powerful then the shade. He had found a solution, but he did not like it a bit. However the only other option was to gamble with his own life at stake and Harry hated gambling. “My instinct tells me that there is something really important about this little bottle.”
“Are you alright mate?” asked Ron, concern evident on his face. “It must have been really scary.”
“I am fine.” replied Harry curtly, not wanting to talk about his feelings right now. He had to think about the bloody war, not to talk about something that unimportant!
“Yeah, sure and I am a flubberworm.” said Ginny sarcastically. “Harry everyone in this room knows that there is something troubling you, so spit it out! It will help you, trust me.”
“Fine!” snapped Harry, his temper getting the best of him. “You want to know if I am alright? Of course I am not bloody alright! I just got captured by an assassin working for Voldemort and was only a hair’s breadth away from getting hauled away to spend the rest of my life in one of old snakeface’s torture chambers! That’s not really encouraging if you know that you will have to face him sooner or later! I failed to defend myself tonight just as I am going to fail when crossing wands with Voldemort! Would you feel alright if you had a guaranteed violent death waiting for you out there?”

Ringing silence followed his outburst. Harry could feel the desperation he had fought all evening rising in him again and buried his face in his hands, not able to bear the sympathetic looks on Ron’s, Hermione’s and Ginny’s faces. Silenced ruled the room for a few more precious minutes and Harry welcomed the peace it brought to him. He could pretend to be just a normal guy for these stolen moments, forgetting about the war going on outside the sheltered castle walls, forgetting about the day’s events and forgetting about his bloody fate. All too soon his illusion shattered.

“Harry.” said Ginny’s gentle voice at the same time as two small, warm hands were placed on his shoulders. “Harry, please look at me.”
Not having the strength to argue, Harry obeyed, wiping away the wetness clinging to his eyes.
“Harry.” she continued, while stroking his hair soothingly. “I know that this is hard for you, but you have to believe in yourself if you want to beat Voldemort. I am sure that you will find a way to come up with the power to defeat him. You are way stronger than you give yourself credit for. Weaker men would have give up ages ago if they had to deal with what you have got on your plate. You survived so much Harry; you are going to pass this final test. And afterwards you will be able to do everything you always wanted to do. You will finally find peace.”

Even though Harry felt like protesting at her kind words, they rekindled the fire of determination in his chest which had been close to dieing tonight. Instinctively he reached out and embraced her, burying his face in her fiery hair. She was his pillar, his promise of a better future, his ticket to heaven. And he would be damned if he was not going to do everything to win this bloody war.
“Don’t you dare dieing.” he whispered into her ear. “I want to kiss you when I return from the final battle.”
“I will be there, don’t worry.” she whispered back and for a moment Harry wondered if all lovers told them such obvious lies. Then his cynical side shut up and he allowed himself a few moments of bliss in the arms of the girl he loved.

“Uhm, should we give you some time alone?” asked Ron, as neither his best mate nor his sister made any move to disentangle themselves from each other.
“No, it’s alright.” replied Harry, gently ending their embrace. “Hermione, on the bottom of my trunk in the dorm there is a book called Focus Arkanum – Unleash Your Hidden Powers. On page seven hundred and two you will find the recipe of a potion I need brewed as soon as possible. Could you take a look at it?”
“Sure thing, Harry.” answered his female best friend. “I will start with it as soon as possible.”
“Thanks.” said Harry, having decided that he could do with every advantage he could get against Voldemort. “Ginny, would you please accompany Hermione, I have got some things I need to discuss with Ron.”
“Alright.” replied the redhead, giving Harry a knowing smile. “I will meet you later then.”

The two girls shared a look before hurrying out of the room and Harry had the distinct impression that they would like nothing more than to eavesdrop.

- - - - -

“So, what did you want to talk about?” asked Ron, feeling a bit worried. He could no think of a reason why Harry would want to have a private conversation with him, but he was pretty sure that things were going to become uncomfortable.
“I know about your and Hermione’s problem.” replied Harry, facing the fire burning merrily in the room’s fireplace.
“Oh.” was all Ron was able to say, blushing more profoundly then ever before in his life. So, his best mate knew that his girlfriend was not happy with his lovemaking skills, life was great!
“I am here to help.” continued Harry as though Ron had not said anything.
“Help?” asked Ron, dumbfounded for a moment. “How exactly are you going to be able to help me getting Hermione off?”
“Well, as the more experienced of the two of us, I could tell you a few tricks how to make things for Hermione more pleasurable. Don’t worry it isn’t very hard.”

“Oh and how exactly are you experienced in shagging girls?” asked Ron, his eyes narrowed and a thoroughly disgusting thought rising in his mind. “You didn’t…”
“Yeah, I did shag your sister.” answered Harry, having the decency to blush crimson. “Now don’t freak out!”
For a moment everything in Ron screamed out to hurt the git he used to call his best mate for destroying his sister’s innocence, but his mind cleared before he gave in to the temptation. Knowing Ginny, she had probably been the one who had talked Harry into shagging her and even if it had been the other way round, he would hardly stand a chance against his best mate. He would have to accept it and if it helped him to fix things with Hermione then he would take a look, even though the knowledge of where Harry had this kind of knowledge made him shudder.
“Alright.” Ron finally said, sighing. “I don’t like the thought of you and Ginny shagging but I am not foolish enough trying to stop you. Tell me what you know.”
“Great.” replied Harry, obviously both relieved and slowly warming to the topic. “Let’s start with kissing.”
- - - - -

“Will you please stop doing that?” asked Ron his best mate angrily. “You are making me nervous.”
“Sorry.” replied Harry sheepishly and complied. It was Boxing Day and Harry and Ron were waiting for Ginny and Hermione to get finished for the ball starting in half an hour. They had already been waiting for at least an hour and Harry had spent the time by playing with the ring Ginny had given him for Christmas. It was a silver ring, with a single round emerald, which she had found in a pawn shop in Daigon Alley during the summer. It was a strange gift, because Ginny knew that Harry did not care much for jewellery, but she just had to buy the ring, because of the few words inscribed in it: To James from Lily, as a reminder of brighter days. She had asked the shopkeeper and had learned that the ring had been bought almost sixteen years ago, along with some other items, which had belonged to deceased without any relatives. He had been unable to sell it due to the gravure, but had hesitated to throw it away. Ginny had bought it immediately, knowing that she would need a Christmas gift for Harry, no matter how the many hard feelings currently were between them.

Harry had been overwhelmed. Even though he could not know for sure that this was his father’s ring, he had slipped it on immediately. He knew that maybe he was only fooling himself, but he loved having an item which reminded him of both his parents and Ginny at the same time. Until Ron had told him to stop, he had slipped the ring off his finger every few minutes, examined it, before putting it back on. He had nearly forgotten that Ron was in the same room and felt a little bit guilty for forgetting about his best mate, especially because of the baptism of fire Ron would have to attend in a few minutes. Today Ron was going to spend a whole evening alone together with Hermione for the first time after he and Harry had the little talk. Harry still cringed at how embarrassing it had been to talk about having sex with his best mate. Well at least no blows had been exchanged.

“Cheer up mate, you will be fine.” replied Harry. “Hermione likes you a lot, or she would not have put up with you for so long.”
“Thanks, that helps a lot.” answered Ron sarcastically.
Originally, Harry wanted to continue reassuring his best male friend, but just as he opened his mouth, he spotted Ginny and Hermione finally coming down the stairs leading to the girl dormitories. Both looked fantastic, dressed in the same dressrobes they had been wearing on Bill’s wedding. Ginny’s fiery curls were tied in an elegant bun, but a few strands refused to be tamed and lined her face. Harry groaned inwardly as he realized that she was looking exactly like she had when he had first made love to her and the thought made him want to ravage her here and there.

He glanced over to Hermione quickly, needing a more harmless sight than his beautiful girlfriend. Harry noted that she looked exceptionally pretty as well; dressed in dark blue dressrobes and with her elegantly braided, sleek hair, but her appearance did not even have a remotely similar effect on him. Judging by Ron’s sharp intake of breath, however, this was not true for his best mate. Harry had to hide a grin, he was absolutely sure that things would be much better between Ron and Hermione in the morning. Those two really did enjoy dancing around each other.

“Shall we get going then?” asked Ginny and Harry happily let her drag him out of the room.

- - - - -

Ron could not believe that this was really happening. He was pressed against one of the walls of the Room of Requirements, with Hermione attacking his mouth with a hunger he had not known existed. They had been at the ball for barely an hour, making awkward conversation, before Hermione had suggested going somewhere more private. Ron had agreed immediately, thinking that she had only wanted to talk. He had been surprised to be heading for the Room of Requirements and even more surprised to find it bare except for a huge bed, but did not have the time to ponder this lack of furniture, because Hermione had immediately pressed him against the next wall and had started to kiss him. Not that Ron was complaining, but he was a bit surprised. And nervous. Hell, he was more nervous then at his first time. Back then he had only been inexperience, now he knew for sure that he had been rubbish in bed and had a voice in his head, which sounded remarkably like Harry and was telling him what to do. Ron did not like it, but he would be damned if he had sat through this embarrassing hour with his best mate for nothing. He was going to make Hermione scream tonight.

Ron’s arms snaked around Hermione’s waist and he slowly stared to move towards the bed, dragging her with him, while taking a more active role in the dance of tongues in his mouth. He knew that he was being bold, but judging by the way Hermione clawed at his dressrobes in a futile attempt to get them off he was doing the right thing. When he reached the bed, he pushed Hermione gently down on the sheets and he started to undress rapidly. Hermione mirrored his movements and soon both of them were naked, staring at each other. She always took Ron’s breath away when he saw her naked, her beauty somehow amplified by the knowledge that she wanted him. Not Harry, not any of his brothers but him, Ron Weasley. It was the best feeling of the world.

Unable to bear it any longer, Ron lowered himself on the bed and an electric jolt travelled down his spine as soon as his naked skin touched hers. She was hot, almost burning and it felt so unbelievably good to be pressed against her. His mouth crushed against hers and started its dance with its mate anew. One of Ron’s hands crept down to pinch and to stroke her right nipple, causing Hermione to moan into his mouth, while the other one squeezed her bottom tightly. Normally Ron would have already mounted her, but Harry had told him in no uncertain terms that he had to wait until a girl was ready before shagging her brains out. So, he opted for a more subtle approach.

He abandoned Hermione’s mouth, causing her to groan in protest and started to trail kisses along her jaw, before sucking at her sensitive pulse point. He loved the taste of her skin, now mingled with the salty taste of sweat and it drove the fire of need burning in him to new heights. He needed more. Abandoning her neck, he kissed his way down to her breast and started to suck on each nipple. Hermione moaned and started to buck underneath of him at his ministrations and Ron could not help feeling a bit proud. That had never happened before.

He thought about going the next step, but decided against it. Harry had advised him to pleasure a girl orally if he wanted to make sure that she had an orgasm at least once, but considered that way to gross. Instead he let one of his hands wander downwards and was pleased to find her wet with need. She was ready for him and he was ready for her.

Stopping his assault on her breasts, he gently spread her legs apart and entered her, his mouth once again fusing with hers. After granting her a moment to get adjusted to the feeling, he started to thrust. His right thumb searched and found her clit, rubbing it in small circles just as Harry had told him to do. She was much tighter than he remembered and he felt already ready for relieve. Nevertheless he was determined to make her come first and fortunately he did not have to wait long.

The combined effort of his cock and finger pushed Hermione over the edge a few seconds before Ron climaxed as well. She screamed his name as her brain was getting overrun with pleasure, but Ron’s mind was too dazed to take any pleasure in it. He collapsed in front of her and only managed to say that he loved her before falling asleep.

- - - - -

“Stand up you bastard!” shouted Ocean and pulled the fallen boy roughly to his feet before backhanding him across the face. He was standing at the entrance of the Fortress of Woe and had finally captured Draco Malfoy. He had found him in a shabby hotel room in Oxford and he did not consider it a coincidence that he had finally managed to find the foolish boy after giving Snape false information about his plans. Well, his master would have to decide what to do with this knowledge. Ocean loathed Malfoy. The boy had chosen to ally himself with the Death Eaters, knowing completely what he would have to do when working for Lord Voldemort. He had had a choice and he had chosen wrongly, signing his own death warrant in the process.

Ocean knew that he was only so angry, because his only choice had been between a slow and painful death and serving Riddle, as he liked to call his master in bolder moments. He had been working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a hitwizard, but life had not been good those days. He had always done only paperwork in the office, because he was considered to young and inexperienced to do field work. Coming from a poor Muggle family, Ocean had always considered his aristocratic face a farce, created by fate to mock him everyday. He had been very frustrated back then, always having been ambitious and wanting to earn enough money for a life in luxury to make up for the childhood of need he had had. Probably that was why everything had gone wrong; maybe his ambition had caused him to dig his own grave.

Two years after he had started working in the Ministry everything had fallen apart. His long time girlfriend had ran away with another man and he had drowned his sorrow in Firewhiskey. After not going to work two weeks in a row he had been fired and somehow ended up in the Falling Noose, where met a few shady guys. They had talked him into robbing a special department of the Ministry in which confiscated goods were stored. Foolish, desperate and drunk as he had been, he had agreed.

He could not remember much of the robbery, the only thing he knew was that the men guarding the department had been killed, even though they had agreed upon not killing anyone in the coup. Two days later, he had been arrested and was sentenced to ten years in Azkaban three months later. He had been there when the loyal Death Eaters had been freed and had pleaded to be allowed to come with them. So he had ended up in the services of a madman.

Ocean snapped back to reality at the voice of another man, asking him where to bring Malfoy. He told them to bring the boy to the dark lord, knowing that he himself would be punished for delivering the boy so late. Well, it could be worse; pain was the only thing showing him that he was still alive after all.