Dysfunctional

65 - Trapped

Tuesday, November 4

After the unprecedented Patronus, Harry took a while to get his heart-rate back to normal. Deciding to sleep it off, he downed a goblet full of the Dreamless Sleep Potion and lay down on the bed, which still smelled of burnt smoke. He could feel the effects of the potion beginning to sweep over him like a strong, sure tidal wave, pulling him under. He relaxed into the sensation, anticipating some much-needed sleep when the strangest thing transpired.

He thought he could hear loud bangs and people storming into his room, even though his vision had gone hazy.

"It's Potter!"

Panic was slow to hit him and even though he tried to sit up, he knew it would be an impossible feat for him to stand and fight whoever it was. His wand was inside his rucksack, which was merely two feet away from him, but Harry couldn't see it nor summon the energy to reach for it.

With uncooperative hands fumbling on his bedside, he somewhat succeeded in retrieving and putting on his glasses when he heard a scream and the angry hissing of his new friend from somewhere close by. "Master, wake up!"

He was trying, he really was. But perhaps an entire gobletful of potion had been too much, for Harry could feel himself being dragged into oblivion against his will and the next moment, his terror at having been found was washed away and he was out like a light.

oOo

"My Lord. We have the best news."

Standing beside the tall, open window, Voldemort did not turn around, focused as he was on the wand in his hand, the one that belonged to one of his Death Eaters. It irked him to hold the thing – what a shame it had come to, that he ought to depend on the wand of a lowly servant instead of a wand as equally powerful as him.

Or even more.

Now that he had discovered that the boy who had stolen from Gregorovitch was none other than a young Gellert Grindelwald, it would be prudent to make a journey to Nurmengard as soon as possible.

"We've found him," said Yaxley. "He's being brought now as we speak, my Lord."

Voldemort glanced up from his wand still with his back to him. "Which one?"

"The boy," said Yaxley ecstatically, unable to contain his glee. "Travers and Rowle were in Cokeworth, planning to set loose a few Dementors when they accidentally spotted a Patronus by the window of some dingy hotel in the vicinity. Potter did not even have a wisp of security enchantments about the place. It was only too easy to subdue him."

Voldemort smirked, the only outwardly show of his delight. "Bring him here."

Yaxley acknowledged him and exited, leaving Voldemort alone in the stately room. He frowned, his snake-like eyes narrowed in mistrust – that Potter had not been under the Fidelius alone was enough cause for suspicion. Severus was right when he had assessed that Black would not have let him out of his sight.

A moment later, the door opened again and Voldemort turned around in anticipation. Bella entered first, a look of pure exhilaration on her face. "My Lord! My Lord! We've found him!"

Travers and Rowle followed next and held between them the boy, who appeared on the verge of unconsciousness. Yaxley and Lucius brought up the rear, all of them with their faces unmasked, triumph evident in their faces.