The Aftermath
Albus Dumbledore was absolutely reeling as he apparated back to Hogwarts from the Ministry.
All his plans, seventeen years of them, gone up in smoke.
He hadn't known what Harry was doing, hadn't known that he wasn't even remotely light. Sure, he was a Slytherin raised by the Blacks and he wouldn't do what Albus was carefully guiding him into, but he didn't seem to be outwardly dark. Albus should have jinxed the sorting hat in 1991, like he planned to, but he had been so sure there was no possible place that James Potter's son would go other than Gryffindor. Now, all his plans are ruined. Young Harry was supposed to defeat Voldemort by dying for the Greater Good, not join him. Everything Albus had worked for was over. He had spent so much time crafting that fake prophecy (which he somehow now knew about), ensuring Harry would be the intended target, making sure he was raised by muggles so he could be moulded into the perfect soldier. And it was all for naught.
He hadn't even known when the boys fled the school for the Ministry as Umbridge had ousted him from his spot at Headmaster, even thought the wards should have alerted him. He found out what they had done at approximately 10:45pm that night, when Head Auror Scrimgeour had firecalled him demanding he came with him that instant.
It had taken Albus, Scrimgeour and Amelia Bones to subdue the four of them, and the moment they were safely captured their disarmed wands had vanished into thin air. Most likely whisked off to one of the Black properties, since most of them were under the Fidelius charm. There were no wands for the Ministry to snap when they went to Azkaban. Their dormitory was empty when it was searched- not a single thing remaining, not even a speck of dust.
Albus realised with in slow-dawning horror that Mr Nott's yelling as they were hauled out of the courtroom was simply not just deranged.
This must have been planned.
They would escape.
•••
Pansy Parkinson was not exactly the most rational person at the best of times, and this was most certainly not the best of times at all.
She couldn't fucking believe the audacity that Draco, Theo, Harry and Blaise had to not even tell her what the fuck they were planning before they did it. She would've found a way to help, for Merlin's sake! She didn't quite fancy Azkaban herself, but she would've done something.
At the current moment in time, she hated them.
She hadn't even known that anything was amiss.
She had walked out of the History of Magic OWL with the four of them, along with Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis, discussing summer plans and what grades they hoped to receive. The boys had gone up to their dorm for a nap, claiming that Theo had them up all night doing last minute cramming and that they'd probably just eat in the kitchens later on instead of going to dinner, and the girls went out to sit by the Black Lake.
And that was the last that she had seen or heard from them.
Until Dumbledore announced at breakfast the following morning that four students had broken into the Ministry of Magic, destroyed sections of the Department of Mysteries, taken out most of the Auror's Emergency Response Team, and were awaiting trial under the fucking Wizengamot.
With every word Dumbledore had said, Pansy had gripped Adrian Pucey's wrist tighter and tighter, until she heard a faint pop. Cassius Warrington healed whatever she had done with a very quick Episkey, and they silently decided not to mention it.
Over the next few weeks, she heard precious little regarding the matter. By the seems of it, no one had. Auntie Narcissa was absolutely devastated, Uncle Lucius looked a split second away from causing a full-scale magical catastrophe, the Black family were very clearly demonstrating exactly how close to the surface the family madness resided in all of them, Lord Nott looked like he may very well break the laws of nature and become the world's oldest Obscurial, and Lady Zabini was apparently brewing a variety of highly illegal and undetectable poisons which was not looking like good news for Magical Britain as a whole.
The weekly Death Eater meeting was held three days after the events, which Pansy attended due to the school year having ended early the day previous so the Aurors could comb every inch of it looking for gaps in the wards and any scrap evidence they could that this had been planned on Hogwarts grounds. The Dark Lord had been tight-lipped in the meeting.
("Friends, Allies, I know you must have numerous pressing questions. Questions that I am not at liberty to answer until after the trial. Though I can tell you all this much: it was done with my knowledge, though it was not my idea. Information kept from loved ones was not my decision. Heir Theodore Nott is a form of Seer, and what happened in the Ministry was revealed to him as the best way forward. I shall explain more at the meeting the week of the trial- as I cannot interfere by spreading information until the full events of the vision have unfolded. I must insist we move on for the time being. Rookwood, have you any updates to report from your remaining contacts in the Department of Mysteries?"
"Not much yet, my Lord. The Unspeakables have not yet returned to day-to-day work in the Department, as the Aurors are still collecting evidence. I have been reliably informed that the Aurors are due to call in curse-breakers soon, as Heir Nott's containment field has not fully faded and still contains enough magic to be considered a live field."
"Recommend Heir William Weasley. He's a Gringott's Curse Breaker, and has recently been marked. Yaxley, any update on the Aurors themselves?"
"I can confirm what Rookwood has said. Additionally, Heir Nott's containment spell claimed the arm of an Auror this morning, and Madam Bones is out for blood in the Ministry."
"Truly remarkable. Lucius, Regulus, and Tiberius, have yourselves or Lady Zabini been able to visit the boys yet?"
Lucius shook his head, "No my Lord, we have been granted permission to do so on Monday. The Minister is panicking, and the boys are being isolated for the next few days except for Auror interrogations. Lady Zabini is also eager to get in contact with you. I believe she is finally willing to be Marked."
"Very well, provide your updates as soon as possible. I will contact Lady Zabini myself.")
The trial had been this morning, and Pansy was barely ashamed to say that she had spent a solid hour crying after her father, a Wizengamot member, had returned home.
Life sentences in Azkaban for all of them. Blaise and Draco had only turned sixteen in the past couple of months, and Theo and Harry were turning sixteen in the next few weeks. Yes, she understood the severity of their crimes but how could they possibly be left to rot with the dementors before they reached the age of majority?
Pansy didn't know what to do, but she knew she would need to think quickly.
She would be returning to school in September to begin sixth year, meaning she would need to take over the recruitment duties that her four idiotic friends had previously been doing. Adrian, Cassius and Miles Bletchley had just graduated, as had the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. She needed to recruit a few more seventh years, work on the sixth years, and work out which fifth years would be willing to take the Mark at the end of the year. Thankfully, the Dark Lord's change of stance on mudbloods would make this easier- he didn't wish to wipe them out anymore, he wanted them to properly assimilate into magical society.
Pansy began making a mental note.
Most of the upcoming Slytherin seventh years were likely to join the Dark Lord, and Ravenclaw's Eddie Carmichael was close to enough of them to also likely take the Mark whilst Gryffindor's Cormac McLaggen would join if he was promised enough glory.
Then there were the sixth years. With four members in Azkaban, the Slytherin sixth years were to be a very small class this year. Pansy had taken the Mark last year, Crabbe and Goyle had taken the Mark at the beginning of summer, and Tracey, Daphne, Millicent and Pike were due to take it later in the summer. The other houses would be trickier. For Ravenclaw, Michael Corner was a given, his parents were Marked Death Eaters, and Sue Li had a very well-known hatred for Muggles which would likely make her sympathetic to the cause. She wasn't sure about any of the Hufflepuffs, and she wasn't even going to attempt any of the Gryffindors.
The only fifth year she could consider even observing outside of Slytherin was Ravenclaw's Luna Lovegood, the Seer that Harry was friends with. Harry told her once that Luna could always be trusted, and she believed him.
Pansy sighed to herself, and summoned a quill and parchment to write down her thoughts. She couldn't wait for the meeting on Friday to hopefully get some fucking answers.
•••
Magic suppressing shackles were supposed to render those bound by them with the same magical capabilities as a muggle.
Key words: supposed to.
Upon transporting the four Heirs to Azkaban, the Auror escort quickly realised they were dealing with teenage boys more powerful than the average adult wizard these were designed for.
They learnt equally quickly not to directly touch the prisoners during transport.
Heir Malfoy made their hands feel as though they had suffered frostbite. Heir Zabini made them feel like they had dunked their hands into a bucket of poisonous plants. Heir Potter-Black physically burnt them, not just the sensation of burning, but actual burns on their hands. Heir Nott sliced their hands open, drawing blood. The Aurors got the impression that he would lick it up if he wasn't so heavily shackled.
No one had ever seen anything like it. The presence of twenty Aurors being involved in the transport, including Head Auror Scrimgeour, didn't settle the unease. They'd all watched the memories of what those boys had done to twenty Aurors.
The Aurors used magic to push them along after that. The boys behaved themselves, so long as they weren't touched. That didn't make the Aurors any more comfortable, though. They were quiet- with Heir Zabini and Heir Malfoy staring down at their shackled ankles for the most part, their hands clasped together. Heir Nott still gazed around, with that damned manic glint in his eye, as though he knew something that the Aurors didn't. As if he was somewhat pleased by this outcome. Heir Potter-Black alternated between watching Heir Nott, their ankles linked together in the boat, and looking somewhat mournfully at the Aurors flying on brooms all around them. It made sense- the boy was Slytherin's star seeker, had won them the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup every year since he had joined in his first year, when he became the youngest Seeker in a century. All the boys were on the team, in fact. Auror Brown was watching the Aurors above them with a very similar expression.
"You enjoy flying, sir?" Heir Potter-Black asked, breaking the uneasy silence.
Auror Brown was taken aback by the address, but Head Auror Scrimgeour had informed them in their early morning brief that they were to treat the boys as normally as possible. Idle conversation was fine.
"Oh- uhm, yes. I do. I played for the Gryffindor Quidditch team back in school, as a Chaser."
"Ah, I'm a seeker. Slytherin team. Draco and Theo are both Chasers, and Blaise is our Keeper. Do you not play anymore?"
"Unfortunately not, no. I was injured in the field a couple of years ago, and was advised not to fly too often."
"That's a shame. I've had some nasty injuries in Quidditch myself. I would be devastated if any of them stopped me from flying."
"Well, being in Azkaban will stop you, thank Merlin," Heir Nott muttered, sounding almost sane. He looked up and met Heir Potter-Black’s eyes, the manic glint replaced with fondness, "I can live happily without fearing that I'll watch your demise at 7am practice."
Heir Potter-Black rolled his eyes, "We won the cup every year, didn't we? They'll be doomed without us."
"Yes, but you pulling off the sodding Wrongski Feint in as many matches as humanely possible was not good for my heart, dear cousin, much less Theo's fragile mental stability," Heir Malfoy added.
"Fond of risky manoeuvres, Heir Potter-Black?” Scrimgeour asked.
The boy nodded down at himself, "Clearly so. I have a Firebolt, fastest broom on the market. Goblin-made ironwork, unbreakable charms, the whole works. Can reach a hundred and fifty miles per hour in ten seconds."
Auror Brown let out a low whistle, "You're awful young to have a broom that powerful."
Heir Potter-Black flashed a grin, making him look a lot more like a regular fifteen year old boy and not a likely-insane mass-murdering convicted Death Eater terrorist, "It was a Yule gift from my relatives, the Blacks, when I was thirteen. Only student in Hogwarts to fly one."
The idle chatter continued for a few minutes, with a couple more Aurors joining in as they discussed the Quidditch leagues. As they drew closer to Azkaban, about fifty foot from its harsh shores, Heirs Potter-Black and Nott froze. The Aurors were immediately on guard.
Heir Zabini shook his head, "They both watched their parents die at a young age. They hear their screams as they die in the presence of Dementors. They must've relaxed their Occlumency shields, having them fully up lessons the effect. They'll be fine in a moment."
True to Heir Zabini's word, both boys were indeed fine in a moment.
Heir Potter-Black shuddered, "Fucking hate those things."
"Get used to it, you're all serving life here, after all. If you can't handle-" Scrimgeour began.
"If you can't handle Dementors, don't get yourself thrown into Azkaban," Heir Potter-Black interrupted, "I know. Can't change the past though, I'm afraid."
"Especially not with the Time Chamber destroyed," Heir Nott smirked.
As the four boys were unloaded from the boat and transported to the High Security cells, their new home, Scrimgeour couldn't help but feel nervous.
Those boys certainly were not acting like they intended on spending their lives here.
•••
Sirius had never been quite so stressed out in his fucking life, and that was really saying something. He didn't think he could ever get more stressed out than he had been when he had lived a double life during the first war- in both the Order of the Phoenix, to protect James and Lily, and the Death Eaters, to please his mother. Yet, here he was. He wasn't even this stressed out when he was thrown into Azkaban himself.
Having your godson, who was for all intents and purposes basically your son, thrown into Azkaban for life along with his boyfriend and his best friends in a plan that you knew nothing about, yet was fully sanctioned by the Dark Lord, was a whole new level of stress.
Sirius hadn't even been allowed to see Harry, since he was currently a wanted criminal, only Regulus and grandfather Arcturus had. The Ministry's holding cells had Animagus wards- Sirius would have been exposed and thrown back into Azkaban himself. He told grandfather that he would've let it happen just to keep an eye on Harry and the others, but that clearly was not allowed to happen.
Regulus and grandfather had barely been able to see Harry, and never without a full guard of Aurors watching them. Sirius had watched Regulus' memories of the visit in the pensieve in father's old study, and it was bleak. Sirius had spent a night in these holding cells before he went to Azkaban, and they hadn't change since. Stone walls and floors, magic dampening wards (yet they still kept the boys in chains), and the only furnishings in each cell were a flimsy mattress on a shelf of stone and a small sink and toilet in the corner. That was all. There was no privacy- the cells were divided by bars, not solid walls. They were fed tasteless porridge three times a day, with a cup of weak tea and a glass of water.
Nothing had changed about them, after all this time. Sirius felt quite sick, reminiscing on his own memories of the place. Harry was even in the cell beside the one he had been in.
Sirius pulled himself out of his moping as Regulus called from outside his bedroom. It was time to leave for the Death Eater meeting- the one where they would hopefully get answers.
Upon arrival, Sirius stood himself at his usual spot near the head of the table- as was his position as a Black. The Lestrange Brothers and Bellatrix were to his left, closest to the Dark Lord, and Regulus stood on his right. Lucius and Narcissa faced the Lestrange brothers with a seat left empty beside Bellatrix (Draco’s seat, old habits die hard), Barty Crouch Jr faced Sirius, and Evan Rosier faced Regulus with Severus Snape on his other side. On Regulus' other side was Tiberius Nott and Lady Zabini. Sirius didn't care to gaze at the positions of everyone else in the dining hall, but he did catch Severus' eye and they both grimaced. Severus was looking more stony-faced than usual, and that was never a good sign. These days, that expression usually meant something to do with Dumbledore.
The Dark Lord swooped in after what felt like an age, as striking an image as ever with his chestnut brown hair and red eyes. He motioned for everyone to sit as soon as he did.
"I'm sure this meeting has been eagerly awaited. I have found myself feeling rather impatient to reveal everything, so I shall make haste with it. As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I was fully aware of what our young Heirs were going to do, but it was not something that I requested of them. It was their own plan that they came to me with over Ostara. Theodore Nott is a Seer, as I mentioned. His Gift comes to him not in Prophecies, but in visions. This plan came to him as a vision in his sleep- a gift from Mother Magic informing him of the best way forward. Himself and the others made note of every single detail of this vision and constructed it into a plan, which they brought forward to me. I approved it- the actions they took were something that would need to be done regardless, any they were offering to solve multiple issues in one night. The revelation of my return at the end of a Wizengamot trial was also a brilliant idea, as I had not quite planned how to go about that myself. Most importantly, as I am sure this is what many of my followers are most concerned about, the boys will not be in Azkaban for very long at all. Theodore's vision did not show him when they will escape, merely the successful outcome, but I have deduced from the scenery in the memories he showed me that it was wintertime. Thus, I shall begin planning a large-scale Azkaban break to be executed around Yule. As per Theodore's vision, we will be removing all my followers from Azkaban- not just the four boys. I cannot express how proud I am of their actions- the boys have earned my utmost respect, and their cunning and impeccable execution is a model for all of you to follow."
There was a shocked silence. Lady Malfoy was dabbing at her eyes, Regulus had clutched Sirius' wrist in a death grip as he muttered unintelligibly in French, and Tiberius Nott was delicately handing a handkerchief to the newly-Marked Lady Zabini. Further down the table, Pansy Parkinson, one of the boys' friends looked torn between crying and hexing everyone in a five foot radius. Sirius couldn't blame her, he felt much the same.
The Dark Lord spoke again, "I am keen to proceed with the meeting, to allow the families to process this information sooner. Severus, has Dumbledore been in contact with you?"
Severus scowled, "Unfortunately, my Lord. He has been incredibly accusatory to all of the staff, especially myself, refusing to believe that none of us had known a thing about this. None of the other staff appear to be demonising the boys- they are mostly upset to have four of their finest students imprisoned. It seems Albus is unable to understand that not everyone in Hogwarts will share his opinion, as he cannot fathom why anyone would be loyal to the Dark when he exists. I also must warn you that he let slip his firm belief that the Azkaban imprisonment is not permanent, and he will likely inform any ears that he has in the Ministry of this. If I may offer my recommendation- the Azkaban breakout should be planned with the expectation of heightened security measures. Albus' influences in the Ministry may not be as strong as it once was, but he does have connections with many of Aurors."
"Thank you, Severus, I will keep your words in mind. Does anyone have any updates from the Ministry?"
"Yes, my Lord," Yaxley, a fairly high up Auror, said, "Madam Bones is due to visit the boys in Azkaban soon. I believe she wants to ask questions, likely about Ministry corruption. Dumbledore called in to Auror Headquarters a couple of times trying to insist he joins Madam Bones to Azkaban but she absolutely refused, rather scathingly."
"Thank you, Yaxley. Anyone else?"
Lucius cleared his throat lightly, "With Draco being imprisoned, not as many people in the Ministry seem keen to allow me to lend an ear, though I am working hard to correct this issue. I have been informed of the visiting times for the boys by the Minister, who is currently refusing to believe that you have actually returned, my Lord. One relative per prisoner, for one and a half hours, every other Tuesday. The visitor precautions remain unchanged for the meantime and non-magical care packages can be brought in if first searched. The boys are not in magic-dampening cells, so the Aurors are relying on the effects of the Dementors and the wards to keep them in check."
"Thank you, Lucius. Sirius, Regulus, do you wish to alleviate any concerns about dementors?"
"Harry is a Necromancer," Sirius began, hesitantly, "It's his bloodline gift from the Peverells. In theory, he can control the Dementors to a degree if he puts enough effort into it- but it's a lot less effort for him to simply tell them to leave. Prolonged exposure to the Dementors will likely still have effects on all four of the boys, but nowhere near as severe as they otherwise would be as Harry will not be allowing them in close proximity."
"Thank you, Sirius. I would like to move on now to other things..."
Sirius allowed his mind to drift away for a moment, still listening but not focused. Bellatrix gave him an oddly sympathetic smile from beside him, which was weird, but still welcome.
Harry wouldn't be there long. Five months in a place where he can influence the guards to stay away.
It won't be too bad.
It isn't too long.
He will be okay.