The Establishment

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The Establishment

Part One


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Harry shifted nervously in place as he stared up at an old, worn-out building. He glanced up and down the deserted street, but nothing was there except the faint glowing of the dim streetlights. He looked back at the rusty door in front of him and sighed. This had to be the place. George had given him specific directions, and even though George was known for his tendencies to fabricate, Harry was confident that George wasn’t playing with him.

Not about this anyway.

So, after gathering all of his Gryffindor courage, Harry took a deep breath, advanced the few feet separating himself and the large door, and rapped as loud as he could without breaking a knuckle. Secretly he still wasn’t sure if this was the place, but his doubts quickly left him - because before Harry had even had a chance to pull back his hand, the door quickly opened inward, and a tall intimidating man glared down at him.

“Password?” the man snarled.

Oh. Right. George said there would be a password.

Harry cleared his throat, trying to hide his insecurity. “Concupiscence.”

The large man sneered at him and said nothing, giving Harry the impression he had said the wrong word. The uncomfortable silence lingered a moment longer – long enough that Harry decided he was going to make an embarrassing retreat. But then the man took a step back and stretched his arm out behind him, indicating to proceed inside. Harry sighed in relief and crossed the threshold as best as he could, for there was barely enough room to squeeze by the burly man, who was half-blocking the entrance. Harry held his breath as he passed by; he could smell the man’s foul body odour. Finally Harry was in the barely-lit foyer, and he squinted his eyes to see what his surroundings looked like. To Harry's disappointment, the walls were of a dark colour, and there was nothing in the small room save the two of them. He flinched slightly when a booming voice broke the silence.

“Wait here,” the man growled.

Harry could only nod. As he watched the retreating figure, Harry suddenly began to think this was a bad idea. George had recommended this place to Harry, but conveniently left out the details of how it would begin or what to expect. However, he did give Harry some sort of reassurance: ‘Trust me. It’s perfect for you.’ And: ‘You’ll finally find your answers, Harry, even if you don’t know all the questions.’ Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his palms on the front of his trousers to wipe his sweaty hands.

“Mr Potter, do you know where you are?”

Harry inhaled sharply and spun around as his hand enclosed over his concealed wand. In front of him was a kind-looking woman who appeared to be roughly around twenty. He smiled nervously and nodded.

“Yes.”

“And do you know why you are here?”

“Yes.”

“And are you certain that you want to be here?” she asked calmly, though she raised a questioning brow.

Harry took a deep breath and held his head high. “Yes,” Harry said confidently. He knew now that this was the place, and that yes, he did want to be here.

She smiled warmly. “Good. I must ask you though, Mr Potter. Are you ready? Are you willing to let go?”

This time Harry could only manage a small nod, but his eyes held his certainty.

The woman smiled again and gestured behind Harry. Harry turned and his eyes opened wide. He was surprised to see a small round table with a large wooden bowl sitting on top. It reminded Harry of a… of a… No. No, it couldn’t be, could it? Harry looked back at the young woman, mouth gaping.

“Relax, Mr Potter,” she said, soothingly. “In order for you to get the most out of this experience, I need to extract specific information.”

Harry glanced down at the bowl and then back to her before nodding his consent. She motioned for him to move beside it.

“Now before we begin, Mr Potter, a contract must be made.”

“Contract? What kind of contract?” Harry asked suspiciously.

She smiled. “A binding contract that simply states that you are here of your own free will and that whatever happens to you, our … business … is not responsible.” After a brief pause, Harry nodded. “It will also state that once you leave, we will not divulge anything to anyone what had occurred here.”

“How will I know you will keep your word?”

“Because it is a binding contract,” she said simply.

Harry looked away for a moment. It wasn’t too late. He glanced back to the door then to the young woman. Finally, he nodded slowly. She smiled assuredly and instantly, a piece of parchment appeared along with a quill and ink. Once they had both signed the contract, it disappeared as quickly as it came, and she motioned for Harry to close his eyes. Harry's eyes widened as he saw her pull out her wand.

“Relax,” she whispered soothingly, and Harry’s muscles slackened slightly and closed his eyes.

He flinched when he felt her cool fingertips on his right temple, then there was a small pressure on his left side, and he knew it was the tip of her wand. He gasped, feeling her inside of his mind; searching his most private thoughts. Harry suddenly panicked and immediately tried to close his mind. He didn’t want to look.

“Remember why you are here, Mr Potter,” she whispered softly.

Unconsciously, Harry nodded and although he was completely mortified, he concentrated on the things he had never revealed to anyone. Not even to Ginny when they had dated briefly. He shifted slightly when he felt part of his mind leave his body, and he began to tremble. Once he was sure it was over, Harry fluttered his eyes open, breathing heavily. Through his peripheral vision, he saw a white, shiny stream of light swirl over the bowl and it slowly sank into it.

The young woman smiled warmly at him, and then bent over and dipped her face into the circling mass. She disappeared instantly and Harry's heart pounded wildly in his chest. He was more nervous of what her reaction would be rather than the thought of actually experiencing any of it. In a flash, she had returned and faltered slightly on her feet before reaching out to take Harry's hand.

“Follow me, Mr Potter.”

Harry moved over to the furthest wall – the same one that the large man had disappeared into – and the young woman placed her hand on it before turning to Harry.

“You may stop anytime you wish, Mr Potter, but I assure you, you will only be doing a disservice to yourself.”

“What if I decide to stop? What will I need to--?”

“Chose a word now and then when it’s said, everything will end.”

Harry thought for a moment. He couldn’t very well pick ‘stop’. He might shout it out and not mean it. He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth and then looked at her decisively.

“Mudblood.”

She stared at him, apparently surprised that he would choose such a foul word, but regained her composure quickly and slid her hand down the wall. It opened inwardly and Harry squinted, but could see nothing but blackness. He moved towards the darken room, but the young woman stopped him with a light touch on his arm.

“Remember, Mr Potter: Don’t give in too soon.”

Harry glimpsed into the unknown, then back to her shining eyes. “I understand,” he said with a faint smile.

She smiled back at him, and as Harry was crossing the threshold, he thought heard her say, “I hope you enjoy yourself, Mr Potter.”

As soon as Harry was completely into the room, the door closed behind him with a loud click, and he jumped at the sudden noise. He tried to remain calm, but his breathing was becoming more laboured as he nervously waited for something – anything - to happen. His chest heaved with suspense. This was it. There was no turning back.

The silence seemed to linger, adding to his amounting anticipation. Just when Harry thought that his eardrums would explode from the sound of his own pounding heart, dozens of hands were suddenly all over him. He gasped loudly as he felt them at every part of his body tugging at his clothes. Harry heard the buttons of his shirt pop off as his shirt was being ripped open, and felt the sleeves slide down his arms, accompanied by the soft touch of warm hands. At the same time, his left leg was lifted and his trainers, along with his socks, were removed. Then his right side followed. Hands held him steady as his pants and his trousers were pulled down, and then he carefully stepped out of them. He was now shaking, standing on unsure legs, naked in the darkness. His skin flushed, but it wasn’t from embarrassment.

The invisible hands were back, but this time they were caressing his entire body, coating it with something that smelled of almonds. One set of moist palms started at Harry's feet and worked their way up his legs, whilst fingertips trailed over his chest, pausing every now and then to tease his nipples. A ripple of gooseflesh covered Harry's skin, and he stood there unable to stop his body from trembling. Hands came from behind and enclosed themselves around Harry's neck, then moved slowly upward to his jaw, and then traced the bridge of his nose before finally sliding their fingers through Harry's hair. Harry moaned in pleasure and his head followed the gentle movements as it was being turned this way and that.

Harry's entire skin was alive with desire now and he wanted more than anything to stand there forever, letting those incredible hands worship his body. But just as that thought crossed his mind, the hands changed their rhythm, and the touches turned into a light flutter that ghosted over his flesh. Harry groaned at the loss of contact and replaced the invisible hands with his own. A firm grip at each wrist pulled his hands away and barely tugged on them, leading him forward. Before Harry could protest, another door opened and the hands gently nudged him forward.

Suddenly, a blinding light surrounded him, and Harry instantly covered his eyes. He stumbled into the room and held out one arm to regain his balance. Knowing he could no longer avoid the brightness, he slowly removed his hand away from his eyes, and blinked furiously until they were finally able to adjust to the light. Of course, it didn’t help any that the room’s colour was snowy white. There was a single table to the left that was half the size of Harry's body, and in the centre of the room stood two poles about seven feet high with a cross bar running between them. Harry frowned at the suggestion that a device like that would be used.

Harry froze when a door to his right opened suddenly and gasped as a dark figured entered. The man was covered head to toe in a black cloak, and a large hood concealed his face. Harry watched him as he crossed the room, and stood in front of the opposite wall with his back to Harry. As Harry looked closer, it dawned on him just what kind of cloak the man was wearing.

A Death Eater’s.


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