Descent to Madness

The Order meeting looked much like the one that convened to discuss Hermione's new gift--this time, however, Hermione was in attendance, while the black-robed figure normally seated near the door was conspicuously absent. Molly sat near an obviously grieving Minerva, trying her best to comfort the older witch. Moody and Shacklebolt stood near the door, conversing in quiet tones. Hermione sat on the sofa--a quiet Turpin in her lap--flanked by Harry and Sirius. Remus stood behind, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. As Albus looked at the tableau--the sad young witch surrounded by protective Gryffindors--he deeply wished he had better news to report.

Clearing his throat to gain everyone's attention, Albus spoke. "Thank you for coming. As I'm certain most of you are aware, the news from young Draco is not good. Allow me to begin by reading his letter; you will then know as much as I of this sad business." With a heavy heart, Albus began:

Headmaster,

D

As Albus finished reading, Hermione contemplated what she'd heard. Suddenly, Porcini's poisonous version of the Draft of Peace seemed more devious than ignorant. Formaldious Porcini, the man she'd thought a complete and utter dunderhead, had caused her dear Professor no end of trouble. No matter--now they knew where her snarky professor was, they could plan to get him out of Azkaban and back to Hogwarts. The one thing she didn't understand was why Draco wrote as if it were already too late. Looking at the other Order members, Hermione noted each face reflected the same sad, resigned expression the Headmaster wore. What was with these people? Surely things were better off now that they knew where Severus was? "Headmaster," Hermione said, "I don't understand. Everyone looks as if this is a funeral. Now we know where Professor Snape is, let's go get him out."

"I understand how you feel, Miss Granger," Albus said softly, "but exactly how do you propose we orchestrate an escape from the most highly guarded prison in the wizarding world?"

"There must be a way!" Hermione began, hotly. "If they can smuggle him in why can't we smuggle him out?"

"Because the Dementors are already on You-Know-Who's side," Moody broke in. "While they would allow the Death Eaters to do pretty much anything they wish, the moment we arrive on a rescue mission, every Dementor in the place will swarm all over us. We would never be able to fight our way through--and we would likely suffer heavy losses if we attempt it."

"So storming the castle is out," Harry said. "What about Fudge? Professor Snape isn't supposed to be held there. If we told Fudge, wouldn't he have to do something about it?"

The older wizards exchanged disgusted looks. Shacklebolt spoke up for the first time. "Fudge won't do a damn thing, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, because he hates Albus and he wouldn't piss on Severus if he went up in flames. Secondly, if Fudge admits Severus has been wrongfully imprisoned, then he has to admit there's a serious problem with Azkaban--as well as the Dementors--and I assure you, he isn't about to do that for any reason."

"So where does that leave us, Albus?" Minerva said in a voice so soft and tentative Hermione scarcely recognized it.

"It leaves us with no alternatives, my dear," the Headmaster said sadly. "I can think of no possible way to free Severus, so I'm afraid in Azkaban he will have to remain."

"Like hell he will," Hermione snarled, rising to her feet to stand before the Headmaster's desk. "Severus Snape has devoted most of his life to the Order. There is absolutely no way I'm going to leave him to rot in Azkaban."

"But Miss Granger...Hermione..." began Albus kindly, "I assure you--if there were any way I could free him..." Albus' voice trailed off as he shook his head.

"I understand there's nothing you can do, Headmaster," Hermione said. "However I am not so helpless. If you cannot free him, then I will."

Hermione's heartfelt declaration created an immediate stir amongst the Order members. As they burst into a cacophony of incredulous commentary, only Albus remained calm, regarding Hermione with frank calculation. After allowing the others to vent a little more steam, Albus called them back to order. "Hermione, exactly how strong is that protective wall of yours?"

"It's quite good," Hermione replied in all honesty. "It's the first thing Andrene had me work on, and I've practiced it daily. My projection is still weak, but my wall has become quite easy to maintain."

"Be that as it may, Miss Granger," Moody interrupted, "you will be facing literally hundreds of Dementors. How can your fledgling skills possibly stand up to such numbers?"

"Forgive me, sir, but you are looking at it backwards. I don't have to fight hundreds of Dementors; all I have to do is block one witch's emotions. My wall is perfectly up to blocking my emotions completely. It doesn't matter whether there's one Dementor or a thousand."

"What of the human guards? There aren't many, but even one human guard coming upon you at the wrong time could spell disaster," said Shacklebolt.

"That's a chance I will simply have to take. I'm going to get Severus out of there--and if I die trying, so be it," she replied hotly.

"I understand why you feel this way, Hermione," began Albus kindly, "but you must understand that I am loath to let you waltz into Azkaban alone."

"She doesn't have to go alone," a hesitant voice said from behind her. Sirius Black rose from where he sat on the couch to stand beside Hermione. "I can go with her...as Snuffles. I can scout ahead to keep her from running into any human guards patrolling the corridors; if there is trouble, I can help her fight."

Studying Sirius carefully, Hermione noticed--despite his brave words and aggressive stance--the older wizard was visibly trembling. Letting her focus slip towards him, she gently probed his feelings. Why, the man was terrified! Fright, determination, and guilt swirled around her senses. Hermione understood why he was afraid; the man had been imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years. Only his abilities as an Animagus had allowed him to keep any semblance of sanity. The determination was harder to understand, though the guilt gave her a clue. Hermione decided he meant the offer very seriously. Sirius still felt very guilty about what had happened at the Shrieking Shack all those years ago, he now had a way to atone for those foolish actions. If he was so determined, Hermione couldn't bring herself to refuse his help. "Are you quite certain you wish to go back to Azkaban, Sirius?" she queried softly.

"I think I'd rather die than go back to that hellhole," Sirius began with a nervous laugh, "but I won't let you go there alone, Hermione. Besides, it's the least I can do after I almost got the chuffer killed."

"Well then," said Albus, "it looks as though we have a rescue to plan after all. Let us get to it, then. How shall the two of you get into Azkaban?"

"I can Apparate us to the grounds before I transform," said Sirius. "Hermione has never been there, but I have, and I can handle a dual Apparation."

"Don't they have anti-Apparation wards in place?" asked Remus.

Shacklebolt gave a snort of disgust. "The Ministry Aurors have been trying to get Fudge to let us place such wards for years. However, Lucius Malfoy convinced Fudge it's an unnecessary expense, since the inmates have no wands. I'm sure that's why the Death Eaters had no trouble getting Snape in there--or getting their own man out."

"All right," said Hermione, "that gets us to the grounds. How do we get in?"

"I came out through a sewage pipe," Sirius said. "I'd really rather not go back that way."

Deciding if the two fools were determined to take up this idiotic rescue mission he'd better help keep them out of trouble, Moody spoke up. "From the grounds you can Apparate to the roof. The top two floors of Azkaban are storage and unused cells. If you have to break in, there isn't much chance of you being overheard there."

"So, we Apparate to the grounds, Sirius transforms, and I will Apparate us to the roof. We do what we have to in order to break in," Hermione summarized. "How do we find Severus, and how do we get him out of there?"

"Getting out is no problem," Albus said while opening a desk drawer and removing an object. Holding out a small, worn tin, he continued, "I believe you may recognize this, Miss Granger."

"That's the portkey that leads to Professor Snape's study!" Hermione exclaimed, obviously pleased. Taking the battered Altoids tin from her Headmaster, she asked eagerly, "How do I activate it?"

"It's keyed to a mental picture of Professor Snape's window seat. Make sure you are all touching, then picture the window seat clearly in your head. If that fails to work, tap it with your wand and say 'snarkypants'; that will activate its emergency back-up spell," Albus said with a wry grin.

"That takes care of everything but finding out which cell he's been shut up in," said Sirius. "Anyone have any clever ideas? There are almost three hundred cells in that dismal place."

The Order members were uniformly silent. There was no easy way, magical or otherwise, to tell which cell Severus had been locked in, and the longer Sirius and Hermione spent looking, the more likely they'd be caught. Turpin had remained sitting by Harry when Hermione rose to address the room; the humans had forgotten all about the unusually silent jarvey until he spoke. "I can find the wanker. I'm his familiar, after all."

"Can you really?" Hermione asked, returning to sit next to the jarvey.

"I always know were he is, if the pervy toss pot isn't too far away," Turpin replied in serious tones.

"All familiars have a magical knack for finding their wizards," explained Minerva. "Of course, owls are best at it, but even Mrs. Norris can always find Filch so long as he isn't too far away. Makes it easy for her to help Filch patrol the halls."

"Won't the Dementors flock to him?" Remus asked quietly.

"No," said Albus confidently, "They will take no more note of him than Snuffles. He may be able to talk, but he's still an animal--no offense meant, Richard."

"No offense taken, you barmy old codger," Turpin replied cheerfully.

"If you go with us, you'll have to keep quiet no matter what, Turpin. Do you understand?" Hermione asked softly.

"I understand, vixen. If Syphilis is there, I'll find him."

"It sounds as if we have our plan," Albus said. "When shall you leave?"

"We should wait until tonight. The Dementors are more active at night, and even less pleasant to be around than usual. Very few human guards stay at night because of this," Sirius explained.

"Very good," Albus said. "I think that's all we need to discuss at this meeting, then. I'll send word to everyone as quickly as possible." As the order members began filing out of Dumbledore's office, he motioned Sirius and Hermione to remain behind. When they were alone, he continued, "Hermione, there's something I must explain that I wish I could avoid. However, I feel obligated to make very certain you understand the situation before you risk your own life on this rescue mission."

"I can't imagine anything you can say which would cause me to change my mind, sir," Hermione said with quiet determination.

"Possibly...possibly. I fear that there is no gentle way to explain this. Severus has been in Azkaban for five days. Being in Azkaban is difficult for anyone, but it is quite dangerous for some. The Dementors feed on the prisoner's feelings of joy and happiness until they suck them all out. When that happens, the prisoners generally go mad. Now some prisoners have many cheerful memories and can last in Azkaban quite some time. Sirius is the only one I've heard of who used his Animagus form to put off madness. Unfortunately for Severus--"

"That's what Draco meant in his letter...when he said it may already be too late...isn't it?" Hermione interrupted, wide eyed.

"I'm afraid so, Hermione. Severus has had a hard life, my dear; he has little in the way of pleasant memories. It's quite likely he has already gone mad."

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said, doing her best to ignore the despair threatening to overwhelm her. "While there is even the slimmest chance he is sane, I will go to him. Even if he is--that it is...too late, I won't leave him in that horrible place. If Severus is mad, he will at least be taken to St. Mungo's, where he will be treated kindly."

"You are determined then?" Albus asked kindly. When Hermione answered with a firm nod, he continued, "And you, Sirius?" Sirius also answered with a nod. "Then nothing is left but to wish you both the best of luck."

***************************************

The unlikeliest of trios crouched in shadow at the edge of the lawn surrounding one of the most feared and dreaded places in the wizarding world. The castle Azkaban rose up from the lawn like a malignant growth, a hideous protuberance of black stone and haphazardly bricked-over windows. The building itself was a gothic horror, capable of inspiring nightmares even if one had no idea of the atrocities committed within.

Before Sirius transformed into Snuffles, he spoke in hushed tones. "Remember Hermione, do what you have to on the roof, but then keep magic to a bare minimum. There are wards within which will alert the guards of any magic workings. The guards here are not the cream of the wizarding world, but eventually even they will notice the wards if you go casting things willy-nilly."

"I understand, Sirius," Hermione replied solemnly.

"Once we are inside, let Turpin and I stay well ahead. Turpin will guide us to Snape; I'll use my nose to keep us away from any humans mucking about the corridors. Can you get a good bead on that broken spire on the roof?"

"I see it...yes, I can get us there. Sirius, I'm glad you're here," Hermione whispered as she gave the startled wizard a quick hug.

Flustered, Sirius only said, "Let's go, then," before he quickly transformed into a shaggy black dog. Hermione held Turpin in one arm and wound her free hand in the fur at Sirius' scruff. Gazing intently at the broken spire, she Apparated them. Once on the roof, they quickly located an old, disused iron door. It proved impervious to Alohomora, but a well placed Bombardo left the sturdy door barely hanging on its hinges. The three rescuers waited impatiently on the roof to see if the noise had been noticed. When twenty minutes passed with no sound of approach or alarm, they cautiously entered the uppermost floor of Azkaban. Letting Sirius and Turpin lead, Hermione was pleased how quickly they made it through the unused upper floors of the hateful place. However, as they drew closer to the occupied cells, the castle became even more oppressive.

The air was filled with the babbling speech and terrified screams of the inmates. It was poorly lit, almost too dark for the lone human rescuer to see. The corridors were cold and damp, the air was foul. Through the hallways wafted a multitude of disgusting scents: blood, sickness, excrement, rotting food, and rotting bodies. It smelled of insanity. It smelled of death. It was all Hermione could do to stay silent as she tried to keep herself from gagging again and again. Eventually, they began passing Dementors drifting through the corridors.

The Dementors took no interest in them at all, not even when one brushed up against Hermione when she didn't move out of its way quick enough. However, their effect on the rescue party was apparent. Even without the Dementors' undivided attention, contact with the foul creatures began to wear on the three rescuers. Thanks to Sirius, they ran into no human guards, though they were forced several times to backtrack and take alternate corridors to avoid them. Hermione found such delays excruciating; she took hope in seeing that the further they progressed, the more excited the strangely silent jarvey seemed to get.

After what seemed, to Hermione, an eternity of directionless rambling, Turpin at last stopped before a cell door. When Hermione raised her brows in question at the jarvey, Turpin nodded enthusiastically. They had planned for this moment. Hermione would enter alone to access Severus' mental state and see if she must calm him in some way before they used the portkey. Sirius and Turpin would wait just outside the door and keep watch. If the small bit of magic she needed to open the cell attracted any guards, Sirius would regain his human form, suppress Severus however necessary, and they would depart in all haste. Hermione sincerely hoped they could handle Severus more gently than that. With a quiet "Alohomora," Hermione entered the cell.

It was pitch black and the weak light from the dim corridor did nothing to chase away the shadows. Determining she would have to risk a little light, Hermione breathed a quiet "Lumos Minimos." A soft glow from the tip of her wand revealed a heart-wrenching sight. Severus Snape sat on the cold damp floor, legs stretched out in front of him, head leaning against the filthy stones of the cell wall. Always thin, he now looked skeletal. There were old bruises on his face and dried blood crusted over his chin from what appeared to be a broken nose. The flesh around his eyes was sunken and dark. He sat there--not saying a word--glaring at her where she'd stopped in shock.

"Severus?" her voice was scarcely more than a whisper.

Severus' voice was louder, though it was scratchy from disuse. "Get out!" he growled. "Get the hell away from me, you false bitch!"

Feeling tears begin to creep down her face, Hermione regarded him sadly. Severus Snape was obviously mad.