Seventh Turbulence

Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter.


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Seventh Turbulence
Poisoned Ink
Beta – Michelle R.
Chapter Three
Mental Unrest
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Albus Dumbledore sat slouched in his favorite chair, chewing absently on a lemon drop. He watched the globe before him carefully, mesmerized by the twirling white clouds in the globe. It was something he needed to do constantly because his tower was so close to Gryffindor, who bordered the land of darkness. He had foreseen this several decades ago. He had seen the darkness that grew near the shores of the Acora Sea. He knew it was hopeless – for not even the power of Gryffindor and Slytherin combined could rival one of the Riddles.

And yet the future seemed bright and peaceful according to the globe. Was there something he had overlooked? Oh yes. Now he remembered. A prophesy. A long lost prophesy stating the defeat of the Riddles by a Gryffindor in the snake's nest.

That future had almost been gone. Until one day when he met Harry Potter. There was something about the young man that gave Dumbledore hope that perhaps Harry Potter would bring change to the world.

Sending him to Voldemort wasn't the safest move. So many things could have gone wrong. Harry could very easily have lost his life if he even looked the wrong way. So many obstacles between Harry and his goal. And yet Harry had made it to Voldemort's Inner Circle, becoming one of Voldemort's most trusted servants. It had taken him a long time to achieve this, but he understood it would be extremely useful to fight against Voldemort when the time came.

“Voldemort strikes Slytherin.” Dumbledore muttered to himself, reaching out to pet Fawkes, his phoenix. Fawkes thrilled in appreciation and flapped its wings slightly. “He brings his Inner Circle to battle.”

Obviously Harry had gone to the battle. It would take some time before he sent his next notice. Dumbledore hoped with his heart that Harry had returned to Voldemort safely...or at least alive.


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“Draco,” Blaise panted softly as he struggled to catch up with the prince.

“Hurry up, Blaise,” Draco snapped impatiently, eager to see his prisoner.

They had entered the dark corridors that led to the dungeons. The guards nodded to them politely as they passed. Under the dim torch lights, the guards looked like statues, stiff and unmoving.

It wasn't long before they stopped at the entrance to the prison. One of the guards in front of the door stepped forward and bowed.

“My Prince,” the guard said politely.

Draco nodded and waved his hand, gesturing to the guard to step aside.

“My apologies, my Prince,” the guard said in a monotone. “but we have to ask who you are visiting.”

Draco cursed under his breath. He knew that his father had forbid him to question any prisoners alone, especially not before his father had questioned the prisoner himself first.

“I intend to visit the Black Captain.” Draco replied coolly.

The guard frowned slightly. “By the king's orders, no one visits the Black Captain until further notice.”

“You will let us see the black captain.” Draco demanded, watching the guard's every move with his silver eyes.

“My Prince, the king...” the guard tried to explain.

“You will let us see the captain.” Draco stated again, adding a hard edge to his voice.

The guard looked at Blaise desperately, as if asking Blaise to convince the prince not to disobey the king's orders. He switched his glance back to the prince once he saw Blaise couldn't do anything about it. He gulped under the intense silver eyes.

Draco smirked as the guard stood aside slowly. Casting a glance at Blaise, he walked through the prison door.

Blaise lingered outside for a moment before running into the prison with Draco.

“Draco!” he gasped. “We'll get in trouble! Didn't you hear him? The king said we can't visit him...”

Draco mumbled under his breath and kept walking.

“Blaise, when have I ever gotten you into trouble?”

Blaise stared at Draco.

“Right. Let's recall...”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“When have I ever gotten you into trouble and not gotten you out? You'll be fine, Blaise. Father wouldn't do a thing to you.”

Blaise cursed under his breath. He knew Draco was right. They had been in trouble for countless times, but they were always forgiven. Draco was a truly spoiled child, especially when the Queen couldn't bear another after he was born.

“There we are.” Draco stopped suddenly in front of a cell and gestured the door. “After you.”


... ... ... ... ... ..
.

King Weasley of Gryffindor rubbed his nose in irritation. How could he have overlooked this? Riddle had been very close – ridiculously close – to his kingdom, to his people, for over 50 years. For 50 years, the dark power grew beyond the shores of Acora. If not for the attack on Slytherin, the Riddle would remain there, growing stronger everyday, his power hidden and unknown to the world.

He sighed in resignment. It had to be during his reign that the greatest threat to the world rose. His people were frightened, his soldiers in doubt and fear. They had all seen the power that had remained dormant for so long. The darkening sky, the rising smoke, and the shrieks of the dragons that tore through the air. Yes, they had all seen the black forces as they made their way to Slytherin. The sea of black monsters that killed and burned along their journey.

The Riddles had targeted Slytherin. Soon, the other kingdoms would fall one by one. He had no doubt that Gryffindor was next. After all it was an easy target, being so close to the base of darkness. Something had to be done.

A soft knock on the door jerked him out of his thoughts.

“Ron,” he grinned as his son bounced into the room.

“Some old man is here,” Ron smiled cheerfully. Nothing seemed to have a negative effect on his mood, not even the thought that his kingdom would vanish very soon. “blue eyes, long white beard, white robes, and glasses. What did he call himself? Dumble? Something like that.”

Weasley widened his eyes. Dumbledore? The wizard hadn’t stepped into Gryffindor for many years.

“Bring him in,” he smiled to Ron. “and make sure no one interrupts us. I have very important business to do with him.”

Ron frowned. He didn't like things kept away from him.

“Right,” he agreed slowly and walked out of the room. He was the crown prince of Gryffindor. He had a right to know anything important that was going on in the kingdom. Since his father gave him no permission to listen in...he would have to think of something else.

The crown prince of Gryffindor grinned suddenly. He needed to know what was going on...and he knew the perfect person to solve that problem.


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“Be quiet!” Ron whispered, dragging his brothers by their sleeves. He had many brothers – oh yes, the Weasleys were well known for their ability to breed. Because there were so many princes and princesses around, the king often chose who would take the throne. It caused more conflict among the brothers. Before he was born, it had been his brother Bill who was the crown prince. But the king seemed to favour his youngest son the most, and soon announced him to be the new crown prince. That fact could change at any second, especially if he king had come in favor of someone else.

Needless to say, Ron did worry about his status among his brothers. However, there were two brothers he didn't worry about – their mischievous behaviour would never earn anything but scold from his father. Their inventions did come in handy from time to time though. Like now.

“Fred! George!” Ron whispered again. “Hurry up!”

The twins muttered something under their breath but followed Ron anyway, coming to a stop before the King's study.

“All right, little brother...” Fred said loudly, but winced and lowered his voice as Ron sent him a glare. “what can we assist you with?”

“Those ear...things that you came up with. One of those will let me hear what's going on in there, won't it?”

George grinned.

“It is those you ask for! Of course it will let you hear. After all, it was made by us, the finest pranksters...”

Ron rolled his eyes and reached into the bag that they carried, drawing out a thin straw.

“All right, geniuses,” he waved the bright coloured straw in front of the twins. “how does this work?”

The twins exchanged a grin.

“Simple. Put one end into your mouth and the other into your ear...”

“And wait for us to say the magic spell,” Fred finished.

Ron glanced at them suspiciously.

“Are you certain?”

George glared at his brother.

“You want to know what's going on or not?”

Ron grumbled under his breath but complied anyway.

George grinned again.

“Ready?”

Ron glared in response.

As if on cue, the twins started to circle Ron with big steps and flinging arms, chanting low under their breath.

Fred started to whisper in a low monotone.

“Hear, hear, lords from far and near,
Help our brother in despair.
To break into our father's lair,
And gain the secrets he bears.
Finest sounds you will declare,
That reveals the King's affair!”

“Hum...hum...” George chanted, adding more sounds to the background. He reached above Ron's head and grabbed something in the air, spraying the imaginary powders all over Ron's head.

As suddenly as they had started, the twins stopped their chanting.

“Well?” Fred said expectantly. “What's going on? What did you hear?”

Ron growled softly, causing the straw to fall out of his mouth. He charged at Fred, grabbing his brother's collar and shook him roughly.

“Whoa!” George held Ron back with effort. “Relax. It was just a little fun.”

“Little fun!” Ron exclaimed, and immediately lowered his voice. “They could be finished right now! We'd miss everything for your 'little fun'!”

“All right, all right,” Fred gasped as he freed himself from Ron's grip. “For God's sake. Relax. Now, put one end of the straw in your ear and the other under the door.”

Ron looked at the straw in his hands hard and glared at the twins.

“If you trick me again, I will...”

“It's not a trick,” George interrupted quickly. “Find out for yourself.”

Ron got down on his knees gingerly and placed the other end of the straw under the door. Immediately the whispered voices in the study travelled to his ear.

The voices were slightly muffled, and Ron could only hear parts of it.

“...would no doubt attack...” the king's voice wavered. He sounded upset.

“...suffered a defeat...it would not be so soon...”

Ron frowned as the unfamiliar voice travelled into his ear. Who was this old man?

“Slytherin...help...”

Ron widened his eyes. Hearing Slytherin and help in the same sentence was never good. No matter how distorted the sentence was.

“...someone...Dark Lord's Inner Circle...”

Ron grunted in frustration as the voices became more disconnected. He jerked the device out of his ear and gave it a rough shake before placing it back again.

This time, however, the device made an awkward squeak and fell silent. Ron shook it again, but received no response.

He cursed under his breath.

“It won't work!” He waved the straw roughly in front of the twins. “It stopped working!”

Fred shrugged.

“Tough luck.”

Suddenly the scraping of chair legs on the marble floor travelled out from the room.

“They're coming!” Ron whispered, scrambling off the floor. “Move!”

The three princes moved quickly out of the hallway just in time to avoid the old man that walked out of the king's study. The man stopped shortly in front of the column that they hid behind and stared directly at the column for a moment before walking away.

The three slowly came out behind the column.

“You think he saw us?” George asked, tucking the straw into his pocket.

“I don't think so,” Ron replied slowly, turning around to walk away.

“Wait!” Fred called out. “What did they say?”

Ron turned around to glare at his brothers. “Nothing. Your damned thing didn't work.”

George stared at Ron blankly before shrugging.

“Pity.”


... ... ... ... ... ...


He wasn't sure how long he had been in the cell. Could have been minutes, could have been hours. He spent all his time gazing into the dark. It seemed to have become a habit lately, ever since he had entered the Inner Circle.

The sudden rattle of the lock shook him out of his thoughts. He looked up from his corner towards the door, but made no movement to get up as the prince of Slytherin and another man he didn't recognize walked in. He dropped his head back to stared at the floor.

For a moment Draco just stared at the dark-haired captain, entranced by the small boy curled up in the dark corner.

He pushed past Blaise and knelt down near Harry.

“Tell me your name.”

Blaise glanced nervously between Draco and Harry. He knew something was going on between those two, but he wasn't sure what.

Harry lifted his head and stared into the hard silver eyes wearily. He was too tired to fight the Slytherin prince.

“Harry,” he answered quietly.

The answer seemed to surprise Draco. He had been expecting some kind of resistance. But those brilliant green eyes did seem tired.

“And your rank among Voldemort is?” Draco pushed his luck. Maybe Harry was tired enough to tell him more than his name.

Harry remained silent.

Draco sighed.

“We have defeated your master,” Draco stated matter-of-factly. “And we will do it again. Join us, and provide information for us. You will be spared.”

Harry let out a low chuckle.

“He's not my master, Prince of Slytherin,” he stated in amusement, “and I do not fear for my life.”

Blaise stared at him in surprise.

“Then why do you serve him?” Blaise questioned. “Join us, and be assured that you are on the winning side.”

“I have no doubt that Slytherin will defeat him.” Harry replied, staring at Blaise with a calculating gaze.

“Then why are you serving him?” Draco repeated after Blaise.

Harry fell silent again. Draco was about to ask another question when a quiet reply came from the petite brunette.

“I have my own reasons.”

Draco sneered.

“Loyalty, perhaps? Then it is foolish loyalty.” He walked over and leaned closer to Harry. “There is nothing he can offer that we can't.”

Harry offered no response.

Blaise grunted in frustration.

“We will not hesitate to force out the answers,” he barked harshly. “Answer the prince, now.”

Nothing.

“All right,” Blaise continued and made a move to summon the guards. “We are going to get...”

He was cut off by Draco's glare.

“You will not harm him, Blaise.” Draco interrupted.

Blaise stopped and stepped back. Usually the prince would not hesitate to torture one of the prisoners. What was different about this one?

“He will talk later,” Draco bit out slowly. “I will make him talk.” He paused and stared at Harry for another minute before walking out of the cell, leaving Harry in the darkness again.

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