Unexpected Outcomes

Disclaimer: I don't own the Potterverse; it belongs to JKR. I'm not making any money from this.

*Thank you to my beta reader, Larilee. Her advice is always good, and she prevents me from looking foolish with my canon terms!

Chapter 15: Unexpected Outcomes

Ginny peered impatiently through the front curtains for the umpteenth time that morning. Where is Remus? she wondered. He should have been here nearly forty-five minutes ago! She looked nervously over her shoulder, ever on the alert for the 'Mum patrol.' Her mother had a finely honed instinct for detecting idleness in her children, often swooping down on the hapless victim to assign chores. Ginny wanted to avoid such an outcome at all costs this morning; she had to remain free to tag-along with Ron, Harry and Remus. After all, she reasoned, it was my idea to hold the 'special Defense lesson' today. Only the teens and Mrs. Weasley would be home this day. It was a lucky concurrence of events: not only were those with jobs currently at work but there were no N.E.W.T. level lessons, thanks to the Ministry-declared holiday break. Furthermore, now that Christmas and Boxing Day had passed without any adverse events, her mother had relaxed her vigilance. Tomorrow, however, everyone would be home early for New Year's Eve. Today was the perfect opportunity to slip out of the house.

A creak on the stairs behind her sent her scurrying to look busy. She grabbed her Charms text from the end table and plunked into the nearest chair, feigning study.

"Give it a rest, Ginny," Ron's voice chided from the bottom step. "You're not going to fool anyone like that!" She gave him a practiced look of innocence, which did nothing to erase the smug look from her brother's face. "Turn your book right side up," he advised, smiling broadly as he made his way across the living room to join her.

Ginny sighed dramatically but rapidly complied, lest her mother make a sudden appearance. "What do you think is holding Remus up?" she asked her brother.

He shrugged. "Dunno. I hope he gets here soon though; otherwise, we'll be having our 'lesson' through lunch."

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother's preoccupation with food. Some things never change. She glanced hopefully toward the front window, silently willing Remus to appear. A moment later, a muffled crack heralded their former professor's arrival. Ginny jumped to her feet and hurried to the door to let him in.

"Harry!" Ron called excitedly up the stairs. "Come on, he's here!"

A pounding of feet could be heard on the steps as Remus greeted the two youngest Weasleys in his quiet voice. Gazing at the older man thoughtfully, Ginny noted that he still appeared somewhat wan and tired. His smile, however, carried his usual warmth and enthusiasm.

"All right, Harry?" he asked, cocking his head as the black-haired young man joined them by the door.

"Remus," Harry acknowledged with a nod.

"Well, let's go then!" Ginny said brightly.

"Wait!" Remus exclaimed, directing a scowl at Harry. "I thought you said that Ginny would not be involved in any of the 'action.'"

"I'm not!" Ginny retorted quickly. "I'm just going along as a lookout."

Remus narrowed his eyes at the youngest Weasley for a moment, then turning to the young men, he asked, "Why do we need a lookout? What do you have planned?"

"We're going up the hill to our paddock," Ron informed him. "It's hidden from both the house and the village, and since it's my parents' property, there's not much chance that anyone will come across us."

"Except Mum," Ginny interjected. "If I see her headed our way, I'm going to drop one of the twins' Decoy Detonators." She pulled a small object from her pocket and brandished it for the older man to see. "That should distract her long enough for you three to finish."

"All right." Remus nodded his agreement. "I'll just go and tell your mother that we're having a special lesson on Hex Shielding."

"That should please her," Ron observed to Harry as they followed Remus into the kitchen.

Ginny trailed behind, slipping silently through the room and out to the back garden as Remus spoke to her mum. The three men joined her a minute later, setting off for the pasture with long strides that forced Ginny to quicken her pace. Exiting the trees that ringed the field, she smiled warmly. This place held some of her earliest, and happiest, memories: riding high on Bill's shoulders as he romped through the grass with her, playing games of hide-and-go-seek among the bushes and tufts of tall, thick grass, Fred, George, Ron and her all screeching as they ran from their father's searching eyes. More recently, she had enjoyed many hours of Quidditch practice in this paddock, soaring through the air as she, Ron and Harry rehearsed passes, dives and feints together.

She stationed herself at the edge of the trees, where she could see, but not be seen by, anyone coming up the path from the Burrow. From this point, she also had a clear view of the others as they made their way to the center of the field, where an old, rotting tree stump protruded a foot above the grass. They usually used the stump as the toss up point for the Quaffle – when they had enough people for an impromptu game, that is.

Keeping a periodic eye on the path, Ginny watched as the men stopped in a tight group approximately forty yards from her. Although she was too far away to hear their conversation, she could see Ron gesturing between Harry and the stump. Harry fumbled with his collar, then pulled something over his head. The locket Horcrux, Ginny realized as she watched Harry step forward and place it on the stump. Harry returned to Remus, placing a hand on his right shoulder. Ron stepped to the left, lifting his hand and grasping the older wizard's other shoulder. Ginny saw him draw a deep breath, then nod his red head once. They were ready.

She checked the path carefully before returning her attention to the men. Remus stood in profile to her, slightly in front of Ron and Harry. He had raised his wand and was rotating it as he spoke an incantation; she wished she could hear what it was. Check the path, she reminded herself, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that the coast was clear. Remus' shouted words drew her attention back to the field. Another incantation, she surmised. Remus stood with his wand outstretched, utterly still, every iota of his concentration focused on the Horcrux. A minute passed, then another. Ginny watched apprehensively as his wand began to shake.

"More!" Remus shouted hoarsely. "This one is stronger!"

To Ginny's ears, he sounded desperate. She squinted in an effort to make out her brother's face; it was contorted into a mask of fear or pain...she couldn't tell which. Remus began to keen, an eerie, howling sound of anguish. A moment later, Harry slapped his free hand to his forehead, and she saw a flash of white as he bared his teeth.

Remus was speaking again, gasping words to the others that were inaudible to Ginny. Even at this distance, she could see that his face was nearly the same color as his graying hair. She peered anxiously down the path, then back to the tableau in the field. Oh, sod it all! I have to help them! she decided suddenly. She took off towards the men, pumping her legs as hard as she could. Focused on the scene before her, she tripped on the uneven ground and was suddenly falling forward. Instinctively, she tucked her head, rolling with the fall. Immediately, she pushed herself up out of the weeds, bounding forward again. Remus was on his knees now, panting, yet still holding his shaking wand out before him. She ran faster, leaping roots and bushes, fear and adrenaline lending her an agility she had only previously known while mounted on a broomstick. Almost there....

Reaching the men, Ginny skidded to a halt next to Ron and immediately grabbed her former professor's arm. Releasing control of her magic, she slid into the meld, feeling the hum of power flowing out of her. A second later, she sensed the resistance from that bit of the Dark Lord's soul that resided in Slytherin's locket; it was straining against their efforts to annihilate it. She gritted her teeth and concentrated. Push, Remus! she exhorted silently, exerting more pressure through the meld. There was no way she would allow that piece of her former tormentor to escape. I will never be overpowered by you again, Tom Riddle, she vowed to the unheeding fragment of Voldemort's essence.

Abruptly, the pressure against the merge snapped. "Rumpo!" Remus shouted, his voice rough with exertion. The stump before them exploded with a blast that threw them backwards, shattering the four-way power meld.

Ginny hit the ground arse-first and lay panting for many, long seconds. Ron's face appeared above her.

"Ginny! Are you all right?" he asked worriedly.

She merely nodded. Taking the hand he offered, she hoisted herself to her feet. Harry was several feet away, kneeling next to Remus.

"That was a close thing," Remus said in a weak voice. Catching sight of Ginny, he motioned her closer. "Thank you. Without your help, I think we might all have gotten scorched. I definitely would have," he admitted.

Ginny had a sudden vision of a blackened, lifeless body. Like Dumbledore's arm! she remembered, shuddering. She shook her head to dislodge the image. "I'm just glad the Horcrux is destroyed," she replied. Looking around, she caught Ron's eye. "We have to get him to the house."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Come on, Harry. We'll carry him." Ron and Harry flanked Remus, each hooking one of his arms over a shoulder as they heaved him off the ground.

When they entered the kitchen some minutes later, the exhausted werewolf suspended between them, Molly gave a little shriek of surprise. "What happened?" she inquired, rushing to seat him and check for injuries. "Did the boys do something dangerous again? Or was it Ginny this time?" She eyed the teens severely before turning back to tend Remus. They edged toward the door into the sitting room as soon as her back was turned.

"No, Molly," he rasped. "It was my own fault. Didn't shield properly," he lied smoothly. As Molly rummaged through the cabinets for a first-aid potion to treat the cut on his arm, he motioned surreptitiously to the teens, mouthing, 'Leave, now!' "In fact," he continued, "Ginny prevented us all from getting seriously injured. She set up a Containment Charm just in time. Don't fear for her, Molly... She's going to be a very powerful witch someday...."

His voice faded as the young people escaped from the kitchen, dispersing to their respective rooms as quickly as possible.

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It was late. Snape decided to wrap it up for the night before he began making mistakes. Potions brewing required concentration and a steady hand, neither of which could be maintained in an overtired state. After all, I didn't exactly have a full night's sleep, he thought, a slight smile lingering on his face as he reviewed last evening's events. Smug satisfaction had dominated his mood all day and with good reason: a night of willing, unrestrained sex with a woman who was not a whore was an extremely rare event in his life.

He cleaned up his work area quickly, placing a Security Ward on his lab notebook to protect its contents. Perhaps Hermione will still be awake; she often reads late into the night, he mused. Entering the bedroom, he saw that she was indeed awake. She was stretched out on her cot and, unsurprisingly, reading. He made his way straight into the loo to prepare for bed.

When he emerged ten minutes later, Hermione was still in the same position – the exact same position. She was lying on her side, a fist holding up her head, and upon closer inspection, he saw that her eyes were closed. His calculating gaze took in every detail of the situation. She was dressed in her brief pajamas but had made no effort to turn down the covers. His eyes lingered appreciatively on the bare skin of her arms, shoulders and legs. It was obvious that she had been waiting for him. Then why not wait in the bed? he wondered. The reason suddenly occurred to him, prompting a smirk; she was uncertain whether she was welcome to 'share the bed' every night. Clearly, she didn't want to assume too much – she had been waiting up to see if he would invite her. A fairly subtle maneuver, he observed, for a Gryffindor, that is. But she needn't have bothered. Without a doubt, he wanted her in his bed regularly, every night if she would consent.

Bending, he lifted the open book from the cot, placing it on the bedside table. Turning back to the sleeping woman, he reached down and grasped her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "Come to bed, Hermione," he said. She blinked sleepily. Taking her hands, he pulled her upright and guided her half-awake form into the bed. With a silent wave of his wand, the lights were extinguished, and he slid in behind her, pulling her warm body up against his own. A contented sigh escaped him. Yes, he wanted her right here, even if it was just to sleep. Last night he had slept remarkably well, considering that he was unused to spending the night with anyone. And after all, he thought, there's always the morning for other activities. With that thought, he closed his eyes and consciously relaxed his mind. At last, he felt he had something in his life to look forward to.

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Harry looked up as Arthur Weasley came through the kitchen door, Fred and George on his heels.

"Hello, Dear," Molly greeted her husband. "Where's Bill?"

"Goblins don't close early for New Year's Eve," he rejoined wryly.

"Oh! Of course they don't! Well, I suppose we'll be seeing Bill and Fleur for dinner then," Molly concluded as she bustled off to see to lunch.

"Harry, old boy!" George exclaimed in a pompous tone as he grabbed Harry's hand, pumping it enthusiastically.

Harry grinned at the not-so-subtle Percy imitation as the other twin clapped him on the shoulder.

"All right there, Chosen One?" Fred quipped.

Harry nodded. "Never better, guys."

"Where's the little bro?" Fred asked.

Harry tilted his head toward the living room and slipped out of his chair. Fred and George followed him out of the kitchen quietly.

"What's up?" Fred questioned.

"Ron's sort of hiding," Harry explained softly. George raised his eyebrows in a silent question. "Your Mum somehow decided that an accident Remus had yesterday was Ron's fault, even though Remus himself took the blame."

"Was it his fault?" George asked.

"No! Definitely not," Harry said firmly. The twins exchanged a skeptical look, provoking Harry to explain more fully. "Look, if it was anyone's fault, it was mine. I'm the one who asked Remus to teach us some pretty advanced stuff. Unfortunately, Remus, Ron and I had a bit of a containment problem."

Fred scowled, not understanding. "Why does Mum blame Ron then? She's never doubted Remus' word before."

Harry looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well," he began slowly, "it's because of Ginny."

"Ginny?" George said questioningly. He exchanged a smirk with his twin.

"How was she involved?" Fred wanted to know.

"She... well...." Harry hesitated. "To put it plainly, she saved our butts. She had come along to watch, but when she saw we were in trouble, she joined our merge and gave us the power to shield from a rogue spell." Harry gave the twins an abashed smile. "Once Remus had gone and your mum got over the shock, she decided that Ron should have protected his little sister – not the other way around!"

George rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Typical Mum!"

"Yeah. Classic," Fred agreed.

"Boys!" Molly hollered from the kitchen. "Lunch is ready!"

Harry grinned. "I'll go tell Ginny and Ron that lunch is on," he said.

Five minutes later, they were all seated around the kitchen table, enjoying one of Molly's delicious meals. Ron had placed himself next to his father and, not incidentally, as far away from his mother as the table permitted. "Dad, did you talk to Minister Scrimgeour about the warning Harry got from Krum?" Ron inquired.

"Actually, I gave him the note – in front of Rob Ogden," Arthur said with a satisfied air.

"Who?" Harry asked, giving Arthur a puzzled look from the other side of Ron.

"Robert Ogden, III. He's the current head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Harry's brows drew together in concentration. "Ogden. I've heard that name before, I think," he muttered.

"Of course you have," Ron's dad confirmed. "His great uncle Tiberius Ogden has been on the Wizengamot for decades. And most of his family has been in Magical Law Enforcement for generations – runs in the family you might say. But Rob is the most talented of the lot. Amelia Bones had him pegged as her successor as soon as he proved his mettle in the Auror program."

Harry had a sudden vision of a short, stout, bizarrely dressed man with thick glasses. The man who confronted the Gaunts was named Bob Ogden, he realized with a start. Harry had witnessed Ogden's memory of that event in Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve. "Are you sure the Ministry will act on the information, Mr. Weasley?" he asked, uncertainty clear in his voice. Harry had encountered Scrimgeour occasionally while going to or from his classes at the Ministry; the Minister had behaved with an icy formality that left Harry in no doubt as to his displeasure with the 'Chosen One'. He couldn't imagine the man giving credence to information if he knew that Harry was the source.

Arthur nodded. "Yes, the Ministry will take action. Rob will see the right of it. As a matter of fact, Rob took the note, and me, back to his office. Grilled me for half an hour about where I'd gotten it." Seeing Harry's alarmed expression, Arthur laughed. "Don't worry, Harry," he assured the young man. "I didn't reveal your source. I did, however, give him our interpretation of it."

"And?" Fred encouraged.

"He agrees with us. There is going to be a force in place at Azkaban tonight."

"That's good news, Arthur!" Molly exclaimed.

"Who's going from the Order," George asked eagerly.

"No one," Arthur said definitively. The twins looked at their father in astonishment. "Alastor Moody got the word straight from Rob Ogden – there will be no Order involvement. Aurors and prison guards only. This is strictly a Ministry operation."

"They know about the Order of the Phoenix?" Ginny queried in surprise.

"Rob knows. His father and Alastor were good friends. The Ogdens wouldn't join the original Order of the Phoenix – they believed it bordered on vigilantism. But they never outright opposed Dumbledore's activities either." Arthur fell silent for a minute. "I think Rob is even open to covert cooperation. In any case, we'll know the outcome before it comes out in the Daily Prophet," he added grimly. "Kingsley and Tonks are slated to be part of tonight's Auror force."

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Snape pulled his black robes close around his thin body. The sea air was frigid – like breathing salty ice crystals with each slow intake of air. He was aware of Rabastan moving beside him, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Patience, friend," he reassured him. "We will be going shortly, no doubt." Lestrange merely grunted in reply and Snape suppressed a smirk. He knew his friend wasn't impatient; the nervous mannerisms were his way of letting off tension. Rabastan was always like this going into a fight.

He considered what they had to accomplish tonight. It was not insignificant. By his count, there were nine of the Dark Lord's servants currently in Azkaban. Those who had been there the longest had been caught in the Department of Mysteries the night Potter and his little band of followers had gone to rescue Black (The filthy mongrel!). Malfoy. Nott. Rookwood. Jugson. Mulciber. All unfortunate enough to have tangled with Albus Dumbledore. The Lestrange brothers, Dolohov, Macnair and Goyle had also been caught by one of Dumbledore's Anti-Disapparation Jinxes, but had escaped while the old man was confronting the Dark Lord. The Auror responsible for that lapse of watchfulness had been demoted to a dead-end desk job by the next morning! And that worm, Avery, had fled the fight even before Bellatrix Lestrange. Goyle had not retained his freedom for long though – less than three months later, he was back in the Ministry's custody – snared during a raid on his family home. Careless fool! The Carrows were in the fortress as well, having been apprehended by a squad of Aurors six months ago. And just three weeks past, Macnair had been caught while torturing Muggles for sport.

After tonight, they would all be back in the Dark Lord's fold. The prison guards would be hopelessly outnumbered and overwhelmed before they realized what was happening. That was the plan anyway.

Snape drew his hood forward, shrouding the ghastly mask he wore in darkness. He closed his eyes briefly, picturing Hermione's face as it had looked just before he'd left. He was adept at reading people's expressions, but he was not certain what he had seen on her face. He thought it might have been concern. She had looked at him in precisely the same way on the night that he, Rabastan and Avery had gone after Wormtail. Perhaps she was merely worried that if her 'protector' was killed, she would be mistreated by her next custodian. He didn't dare fall into the trap of believing that she was concerned for his safety. That sort of sentimentality was beyond foolish. She didn't care for him: she was merely lonely, and he was her only option for companionship. Remembering the 'companionship' they had shared that morning, he smiled behind his mask. He saw her face as she lay beneath him with her head thrown back, eyes partially closed, skin flushed from exertion. That is a better image to take into battle than her apprehension, he decided.

A loud crack to his left signaled the arrival of their contact. "Snape, Lestrange," a harsh voice rasped in greeting. "All the squads are in place. Here are your Apparition coordinates."

Greyback, Snape realized with disgust. I would know that voice anywhere. He did not, however, move to take the slip of parchment that the werewolf held out.

Lestrange strode forward quickly, yanking it from his hand. He well knew his friend's intense aversion to werewolves – and the reason behind it. "We're ready," he confirmed, giving Greyback a single dip of his head. Greyback disappeared with another whip-like crack. He glanced at the parchment, then handed it to Snape to read. "All right there, Severus?" he asked softly.

"As much as I ever am," Snape replied cryptically.

Just then, a burst of red sparks erupted far above them. That was the signal to Disapparate.

"Let's go," Lestrange said shortly.

They disappeared simultaneously, rematerializing in the shadow of a towering wall. The outer ramparts of Azkaban fortress, Snape concluded. He placed two vials of exploding fluid at the base of the wall. "Back off, Rabastan," he warned. When they had retreated about thirty feet, they crouched down. Snape lifted his wand, silently sending an Igniting Spell straight at the spot where he had left the vials.

An instant later, a forceful blast erupted, tearing into the wall. Both men whispered a Repelling Charm to protect themselves from flying debris. A similar blast occurred some way off to their right, then others could be heard, some muffled by distance. The other teams had attacked the ramparts; the assault on Azkaban Prison had begun.

The two men stood up to assess the damage. The fluid had blown a sizeable hole in the wall, big enough for two or three people to pass through at a time. Several loud bangs of Apparition occurred behind them. Snape wheeled, wand out, but relaxed when he saw that it was just two of the Charm Breakers with a pair of soldiers flanking them. The small group rushed toward the newly created gap, eager to bring down the wards that protected the inner fortress. "Well," Snape quipped with sardonic formality, "shall we?"

Lestrange gave a short bark of laughter and followed the last soldier into the breach.

Snape entered cautiously, cognizant of the fact that whatever guards were on duty had undoubtedly been alerted by the explosions. That was the weak point in Draco's plan. If the prison guards were able to call for back-up before the Charm Breakers could bring down the wards, things would get messy. Not that he was worried – he was confident in his own survival abilities. But the Dark Lord would be displeased if too many of his followers were killed or captured. Snape's sharp eyes scanned the open space between the walls. Dimly, he could make out another pair of Charm specialists to the right of the ones he had followed. The air held a palpable sizzle of magic as their powerful Destruction Spells began to take effect on the fortress.

Abruptly, an array of bright red Stunning Spells arced downward from the prison walls. Snape saw one of the Charm Breakers in their group go down. The soldiers sprang into action, one of them positioning himself to shield the group, while the other attempted to Enervate the Stunned man.

"Severus! On the walls!" Lestrange shouted, pointing his wand toward the indistinct shadows on the parapet above them. Confusion erupted as the attackers began to trade hexes with defenders, the din of the battle augmented by the potent magic from the continued efforts of the Charm Breakers. An explosion rocked the ground between Snape and Lestrange, knocking the latter to the rough stones of the courtyard.

Snape dove toward his friend. "Rabastan! Are you okay?"

"My arm," Lestrange hissed, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Blood oozed onto his robe from a gash across his bicep. "It's not serious...not my wand arm," he decided after a quick appraisal. "Just tie it off." Snape did so and a minute later they rejoined the fight.

Snape sent various hexes at the fleeting figures up on the wall, but they were not easy to hit as they dodged and ducked behind the defensive baffles that topped the ancient walls. But even as he fought, his mind coldly evaluated the situation. There are too many of them up there. This attack was no surprise to them. He recognized a sophisticated parry-and-return maneuver as a tall figure directly above him blocked his hex and returned a strong Knock-Out Jinx. That's an Auror tactic! The Ministry was definitely tipped off, he concluded.

"New orders!" An amplified voice boomed out over the din.

Snape's head whipped around toward the sound, immediately spotting a tall, beefy, blond man running toward their group. Nick DeAngelo. Relatively young, but a mind like a steel trap, Snape's memory supplied instantly. Draco's right hand man during the planning and implementation of this little party. DeAngelo skidded to a stop some yards behind their assault team. Out of easy range of the walls, Snape noted. He backed quickly away from the fortress, covering his own retreat with a sustained Shield Charm. As soon as it was marginally safe, he turned to face DeAngelo.

DeAngelo reversed the Sonorus Charm on his voice. "The Charm Breakers on the north side have deduced which variant of Anti-Intruder Jinx the Ministry used. It's the Mars Contego," DeAngelo said without preface. "Tell your crew. The Charms specialists will know how to break it."

"They had better be able to do it rapidly, or we'll all be target practice for the Aurors. They have the advantage of height," Snape responded waspishly.

DeAngelo's eyes narrowed as they swept the battlements, and then he nodded in understanding.

"What are the new orders?"

"When the wards are breached, all attack personnel are to blast through the walls in as many places as possible. Enter quickly. Get out from under this Ministry barrage," DeAngelo instructed. "As before, Charms specialists will disengage. Once you're inside, open every cell; free all prisoners. We are abandoning the targeted release plan. We'll get our comrades off the island using Side-Along Apparition. The rest of the sods can swim!" He smiled nastily.

Snape gave a sharp nod of his head in acknowledgement and watched the blond man depart at a run to instruct the next group. The new plan made sense, he decided as he rejoined his team. With all those Aurors inside the walls, we can only benefit from the confusion of a mass prisoner release. He relayed the new information and orders quickly, noting that the Charm Breaker set to work dissolving the wards before he had finished speaking.

Within a few minutes, an audible throb filled the air around them – the dissolution was almost complete. A deafening thunderclap accompanied by a subtle rippling of the ground signaled that the fortress wards were down at last. So was another of his team members – one of the soldiers, a young recruit. The remaining specialist looked indecisively between the two injured men, uncertain which he should help. "Get him out!" Snape directed, pointing to the man's partner. "I'll deal with this one." The man obeyed without a word, grasping his comrade's arm and disappearing with a pop. Snape used a Sealing Charm to stop the young man's bleeding, then hauled him to his feet. "Get yourself beyond the outer wall. If you can't Disapparate, wait for help." By the time the soldier began to stumble away, Snape had returned to his squad.

The others were already at work. Under cover of a Shield Charm cast by the remaining soldier, Rabastan had smashed a child-sized hole in the prison wall with the Reducto Hex. He added his considerable power to his friend's efforts, and a minute later, they had ducked inside a stone chamber. A figure cowered in the shadowy corner, clearly terrified at the sight of his 'visitors' in their Death Eater regalia. Snape didn't spare him a second glance – he merely blasted the iron door open with a Dark spell he had concocted himself.

In the halls of Azkaban prison, pandemonium reigned. Frequent explosions reverberated through the medieval structure. Piercing screams and strident calls echoed down the corridors as Aurors dueled with Death Eaters and liberated prisoners scrambled to escape the fortress confines. "No! We stay together!" Lestrange shouted as the young soldier in their team started down a corridor to his left. "Guard our backs while we open everything in this section," he ordered. The young man looked mutinous, but obeyed.

They worked methodically, demolishing each closed door and assessing if one of their own was inside. So far, they had not found any of the Dark Lord's servants, but had added considerably to the destruction and confusion by releasing a dozen criminals into the halls. As he worked, Snape wondered if the soldier with them had a relative incarcerated here. If so, he could understand the young man's desire to hare off on his own. Rabastan had come across a chamber whose door was magically fortified. He was unable to break it down alone.

"Severus, will your creation handle this?" he asked.

"Perhaps," Snape replied, "if we perform it simultaneously." They blew their way through the spelled door, revealing a guard's antechamber, complete with a desk, several chairs and an array of ankle and wrist shackles hung on the wall. The latter, Snape knew, were used to restrain particularly violent prisoners.

"Jackpot." Lestrange whispered, his eyes on a door at the far side of the room. "I'll bet that leads to solitary confinement cells," he stated, pointing emphatically at the barred door. "Some of ours will probably be in there."

Snape jerked his head wordlessly in acknowledgement. Just then, the soldier, who had started across the room, cried out in pain and crashed to the floor. Snape saw a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye and whirled in time to see a guard dodge back behind the desk. Lestrange moved in a blur, dashing to the far side of the chairs, drawing the guard's attention. That was all the opening Snape needed. He dropped to the floor. "Stupefy!" he shouted, sending a Stunning Hex along the floorboards and beneath the bulk of the desk to strike the guard's crouched form.

The man collapsed in a heap, and Lestrange ran to him, searching him quickly and straightening up with a set of keys in his hand as Snape rose from the floor. He glanced at the soldier.

"I'm all right," the man claimed with a slight grimace, levering himself to his knees.

One of the man's legs was bleeding, and Snape doubted it would support him. "Stay," he ordered. "We will return shortly." Rabastan opened the door to the confinement cells and, with a quick look at his friend, proceeded inside. All the cells but one were empty. At the end of the short hall, the filthy form of a man lay in a huddled mass on the stony floor. "It's Macnair," he said softly, "and I think he's been Stunned."

"Probably to keep him quiet during the attack," Lestrange replied wryly. Locating the correct key, they entered the cell and revived him. "Up you come, Macnair," Lestrange encouraged the groggy man as he and Snape each took an arm to haul his muscular frame upright.

Gaining his feet, their old schoolmate regarded them blearily for a few seconds. He shook his head slowly and, in a hoarse voice, murmured, "Rabastan?"

The balding man grinned. "Yes," he answered simply. Rabastan released Macnair's arm and turned to the door. "Come on, we're leaving this place."

Returning to the guardroom, Lestrange gave the soldier a hand up from the floor and supported him with one arm when it became apparent that the man could not walk unaided. Scanning the office, Macnair spotted the unconscious guard. A feral snarl twisted his face, and he started toward the man.

"No!" Snape commanded. "There's no time for revenge. We're to get out as quickly as possible – those are the Dark Lord's orders."

Macnair growled deep in his throat but didn't waste his breath arguing the point. Before they left however, he strode to the wall, wrenching free a set of manacles. Experimentally, he held it by one foot cuff, rapidly swinging the other end and nodding with satisfaction as it whooshed dangerously through the air. He regarded Snape for a moment. "I'm ready, Severus," he said in his rusty voice.

Snape whirled wordlessly and strode into the hall behind the others. They retreated in the direction of their own entry point, as that was the closest means of escape. The closest, but not the safest. Large blocks of masonry littered the floor where they had blasted through walls in their earlier zeal to open every cell. And the Aurors were down on this level now. They had not traveled many yards when a searing red jet of light streaked between Lestrange and the young recruit, actually causing the soldier's robes to smoke. He reacted quickly, dousing it with water from his wand as he and Rabastan instinctively dropped to the floor to avoid being easy targets. Snape flattened himself against the wall, aware that behind him, Macnair had mimicked his pose. Eventually, the Auror would have to expose himself in order to fire off another spell. There! Something moving at the juncture of the hall and that doorway to the left, Snape noticed. A dark green robe became partially visible as the individual inched stealthily into position for another try. The seconds ticked by as Snape waited, frozen. "Cruris Rumpo!" Snape snarled suddenly, wand trained on the Auror's leg that now protruded into the corridor.

With a high-pitched scream that revealed her gender, the Auror toppled out of sight again. "Come on!" Lestrange called to the others. He pulled the soldier to his feet. "Let's move before more of them show up." They lurched past the room where the woman sprawled, a pool of blood gathering under her shattered leg. Macnair, however, ran toward the room, prompting a sharp, "Leave her!" from Lestrange. "She's not going to be following us!"

"The wand!" Macnair rasped in reply, continuing toward the incapacitated Auror. Grabbing the door lintel, he plunged headlong into the room. "Gah!" he yelled a second later, stumbling backwards through the doorway. Hissing in pain, he clapped a hand over a red welt on his forearm.

She's not quite helpless then, Snape thought derisively as he reached Macnair. "Do as Rabastan instructed," he hissed threateningly. "Get up and get out. Now!" He didn't stop to see if Macnair listened, but followed after the others quickly, heading for the end of the hall where they had entered. A soft clanking noise indicated that Macnair, still bearing the leg shackles, was close on his heels.

"Halt!" a deep voice demanded behind them.

Snape spun, wand out, but found Macnair's back directly in his line of fire. Over the man's shoulder, he saw a tall, black man running at them, wand outstretched. The big Death Eater stepped forward to meet him, swinging the chain at a lethal speed. The Auror never broke stride, smoothly sidestepping the manacles and twisting his wand in a silent Levitation Charm. The clumsy weapon was jerked out of Macnair's hands, soaring upwards to the ceiling. Macnair charged forward, determined, apparently, to bring his opponent down by main force. The Auror slashed his wand sharply in a sideways motion, felling the crazed Death Eater with another non-verbal spell. At last, Snape had a clear shot at him. Diffindo! he pronounced silently. The man attempted to dodge, but the hex grazed his upper arm, knocking him off balance for a moment. Petrificus Totalus! Snape thought fiercely and watched in satisfaction as the man stiffened and fell face down in the darkened corridor.

Snape glanced around. Rabastan had taken the soldier to safety; they had probably Disapparated by now. He stepped up to Macnair. "Ennervate!" he whispered, feeling too drained to concentrate on non-verbal magic just then. But Macnair didn't move. Snape knelt next to the big man, pushing him over to assess his injuries. His chest was covered in blood from the Slicing Hex; Snape couldn't find a pulse. He rose in disgust. "Idiot!" he hissed contemptuously. He always was too bloodthirsty for his own good, he concluded.

"Down here! They went to this level!" a strident voice called as footsteps slapped on a nearby stairway. Snape sprinted to the cell where they had entered. A slight scraping noise snapped his head to the corner, where the same pathetic figure huddled, too terrified to move. "Lumos," he whispered, illuminating, to his great surprise, the spotty face of Stan Shunpike. After a moment's hesitation, Snape strode forward, grabbed the young man by the arm and propelled him out into the night at wand point. With a loud crack, he Disapparated, taking the onetime conductor with him. Once back on the mainland, he released Shunpike's arm. "You're on your own, boy," he said harshly. "I suggest you get as far away from Britain as you can, while you can!" With another loud crack, he left the disoriented young man on the cold, empty beach facing the North Sea.

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Author's Notes:

1. Charm Breakers: for Americans, this may seem to be a new term, but is actually used in the UK editions as an equivalent term to Curse Breaker (in the US editions). I meant it to be a slightly different specialty from the work Bill Weasley does and will probably use the term Curse Breaker later in this fic to distinguish the two. Apologies if that bothers the Brits. Thanks go to Larilee, my terrific beta, for catching that one for me.

2. Mars Contego = shield of the war god. A powerful type of Anti-Intruder Jinx that I concocted – non-canon. The name is derived from Mars, the Roman god of war and contego, which translates as shield (from an on-line English/Latin translator).

3. Nick DeAngelo: I made him up. He's the same blond fellow you saw with Draco in chapter eleven.

4. I thought Stan deserved a break; just a little levity....