FicWad

Disclaimer: This fan fiction was based on the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership on any character created by J.K. Rowling, and no money is collected from this story. This is one way I show appreciation to J.K. Rowling’s works. Other names or places on this story are fictional. Any similarity to actual names is purely coincidental.




Chapter 26: Snake Pit pt. 1

Harry was down on his knees. His face was contorted in agony as if he was physically in pain. A floodgate of emotions came rushing through… guilt, shame, doubt, hopelessness. He was covering his ears, trying to block out all the accusing voices. But, it was to no avail. He could hear them directly into his head. He remembered some of the things his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia said to him. They said he deserved all the unhappiness and misery in his life. Were they right all along? Were they speaking the truth, and he was just too thick to see it?

In his mind-eye, Harry vividly saw the cruel face of his Uncle Max. He saw the sneering and jeering faces of Dudley and his gang, his parents, brother, and sister, his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He saw Neville, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Susan, Fred, George, Remus, Dumbledore, and Hermione. They were all mockingly laughing at him. A feeling of anguish welled up inside of him. Like his past twelve year old self, he cried in sorrow and misery. He cried for being an unwanted child. He cried for being the cause of his uncle’s death. He cried for being born.

Harry suddenly remembered the wolf’s attack. He should have died that day instead of the wolf. He shouldn’t have lived. He was slowly and painfully drowning in sorrow. He finally accepted his life wasn’t worth living. With his heart full of regret and misery, he let the suffocating darkness engulfed him. His heart began to beat faster in full need of air. Soon, his worthless life would be no more.

For some unknown reason, Harry felt at peace. He thought dying would be excruciatingly painful. But, it wasn’t. Before the darkness fully engulfed him, he struggled to see the fondest memory he had of Max. He saw his Uncle Max tucking him to bed. His uncle had reached out, and gently tousled his already messy black hair. “Remember, Harry, no matter what happen to me, I will always love you. You are like the son I never had.” Those simple words softly spoken to him by his uncle after their excursion in Scotland, suddenly sprung to the forefront of his mind.

“I will remember, Uncle Max,” Harry automatically intoned. A sad smile graced his lips at the memory. His Uncle Max thinking of him as a son always gave him comfort. As if a heavy burden was lifted from his chest, he began to breathe easily. With tears still streaming down his cheeks, he firmly repeated his promise. “I will remember, Uncle Max.”

Despite his sorrow and misery, Harry felt his love for his uncle welled up from his heart. And then, a strange thing happened. The suffocating grip of darkness loosened. The fog of confusion and doubt were suddenly swept away from his mind. He began to remember all the good things he and his Uncle Max had shared together. He remembered his birthday celebrations. He remembered their camping trips. He remembered their quiet moments together in front of the fireplace at Wicker Farm. He remembered the feelings of camaraderie, security, and most of all, love which his uncle showed him in abundance.

As if someone threw a stone at a glass canvas, the morbid scenery rippled, cracks formed, and finally shattered into millions of tiny splinters. There was now only Harry and Voldemort in the gray-looking environment. Harry warily blinked his eyes several times, until it finally dawned on him. It was all a dream. He carefully looked around his grayish surrounding. He couldn’t believe it. Everything that happened was just a horrible induced dream after all. His eyes finally rested on the only other figure present in the void…Voldemort. Harry saw him staggering and screaming as if he was in tremendous pain.

“You! You did this to me!” Harry’s angry voice grew thick and raspy as he spoke. He menacingly rose to his feet. “You took all of the fond memories I have of my uncle, and you twisted it into something vile and hideous! You will pay!” He never noticed the change he was undergoing. All he saw was an evil wizard that must be destroyed. He instinctively bared his fangs, and tensely opened his hands. His clawed fingers rigidly separated. A menacing growl rumbled up his throat. He watched Voldemort unsteadily aimed his wand at him. He never waited for the dark wizard to utter a curse. He swiftly attacked.


Harry woke up with a start. At first, he was disoriented. He dizzily sat up, and looked around him with confusion. He was in a small room of some sort. Even though the room was slightly illuminated, he could clearly see its unappealing appearance. Its nasty smell assaulted his sensitive nose. He could also hear distant cries of pain and agony. He wondered where he was, and how he got there.

He shakily stood up, and unsteadily walked towards the only source of light, the small barred window of the door. Holding the bars for support, he peered through the small opening. “HELLO! IS ANYONE OUT THERE!? WOULD SOMEBODY PLEASE UNLOCK THIS DOOR!? HELLO!” He listened carefully for a moment for some sign of movement. Nothing. “HELP! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME!? I NEED HELP!” He tried calling someone several more times, but no one came. He doubted if anyone heard his cry for help at all.

Harry retreated to the other side of the room. He unhappily sat on the floor and leaned his back against a moss covered wall. He drew up his knees, and rested his arms on them. He surveyed his surrounding once more, carefully this time. His eyes moved from the walls, ceiling, and finally to the door opposite him. He had a strong feeling he was locked up in some unknown prison cell.

He tried to piece the puzzle that landed him in this situation. How he ended up wearing pajamas was another mystery. The last thing he remembered was the fight between him and that dark wizard, Voldemort. Harry’s face hardened at the memory. That git did something to him. Voldemort made him see all his bad memories and experiences. He would have succumbed to his overpowering misery and sorrow, if it wasn’t for the memory of his Uncle Max’s kind words.

What followed after that was a blur. It felt like he wasn’t himself. He remembered he was angry, very angry. He vaguely remembered fighting Voldemort’s minions as well. Harry remembered one more thing. He bit Voldemort. A wicked grin spread across his face. Voldemort might talk like evil incarnate himself, but he sure screamed like a girl. He was enjoying that particular memory when he remembered something. A concern look crossed his face. If he bit Voldemort, should he get a shot or something? There could be rabies in his blood right now. What if he turned into an evil git because of it? He was worried by the thought for a moment. Finally thinking it was just a ridiculous idea, he brushed the thought aside. Nevertheless, he decided to make an appointment to see Madam Pomfrey as soon as possible.

Harry glanced at the door once more. It appeared Voldemort won the duel and captured him. He couldn’t remember anything past the memory of an unbelievably excruciating pain. He involuntary shuddered in remembrance. He definitely didn’t want to experience that again. It was pain beyond pain. He had to get out of there, before Voldemort got another chance. With an urgency bordering on panic, Harry quickly stood up. He took long deep breath to calm himself. He closed his eyes in order to concentrate. The picture of number twelve Grimmauld Place floated before his mind-eye. After several minutes, he neither felt the tingling of his magic, nor the constricting sensation of disapparation. He opened his eyes in frustration. It didn’t work. He wasn’t surprised, though. After all, what good was a prison cell if anyone could escape at will?

He gave the door another considering look. It would seem there was only one way out. He quickly approached the door, and grabbed hold of the bars. He tentatively pulled and pushed. It didn’t budge. He tried it again, but this time with his full strength. The door creaked and rattled a little, but it held. Harry tried again and again. But, it was no use. The door was a lot sturdier than it looked. With his anger and desperation growing, he instinctively and viciously smashed his right fist on the wooden door. His fist left a small indentation, and then, the wood slowly smoothed out again. This only drove him furious. He smashed it again and again. The banging noise and occasional growling sounds echoed on the walls of the dungeon corridors.


Tonks, still in the guise of Harry Evans, marched reluctantly down a torch lit corridor. There were three Death Eaters guarding her, two from behind and one in front, leading the way. Once in a while, one of the Death Eaters behind her would shove her forward whenever she tried to walk slower. With every turn they made, she sought a distinguishing mark on the walls, floor, or ceiling. She had been trying to memorize the way in case she had a chance to escape. She realized what she was doing might be an exercise in futility. If she was honest with herself, she knew she would never see the light of day again. But, as long as she was alive, she would keep her hopes up.

As soon as Tonks and her captors turned left at another corner, they heard an echo of an angry growl. The sound was so primal Tonks could feel the hairs at the back of her neck stood up. The Death Eater in front of her paused uneasily.

“Ferghus, are we holding a werewolf in this block?” asked a Death Eater behind Tonks’ left side. His voice clearly revealed his nervousness.

“Don’t be an idiot. The Dark Lord wouldn’t waste his time on a werewolf,” Ferghus, the one in the front, replied as coolly as he possibly could. Lately, he had been thinking if there was some truth in his friend’s words. He’d never heard Weylin so passionate in his belief before. And then, there was this wizard. He might have drunk a Polyjuice Potion to fool the Dark Lord. Not every Death Eater knew the real Harry Evans was already their prisoner. And, he had no intention of relating that information to these two imbeciles.

As they continued walking down the corridor, the growling sound kept getting louder and louder. This time they heard tearing sound of wood along with the growls. As soon as they stopped in front of what they believed to be, the source of the noise, there was only silence. Ferghus heart was beating fast with fear. He was well aware he’s about to commit treachery. Their master didn’t order him to lock this impostor with the real Harry Evans. It was a spur of the moment decision on his part. Weylin had better be right.

“You’re not thinking of putting me in there, are you?” Tonks asked with some fear.

“Why not? You’re not scared, are you? Strong and powerful wizard like you,” a Death Eater behind her right mocked nastily. “I still don’t believe the rumor floating around that a squib like you bested our master. From where I’m standing, you’re not much of a squib at all.”

“Maybe he cheated,” supplied the other Death Eater behind her left. “You know how our master goes easy on his less skilled opponents. This squib must have used one of those devious muggle trickeries.”

“Yeah, I can see how a squib like him will resort to muggle deceit,” the one behind her right enthusiastically agreed.

She already knew Harry miraculously won a wizard duel with You-Know-Who. But, no one in the Order knew how. Maybe, she could trick these fools to tell her. “Hah… Keep telling yourselves that. The truth of the matter is, your master is a poor excuse of a duelist. Just because he acts tough and talks big, doesn’t mean he’s a powerful wizard.” The next thing she knew, her head was roughly yanked back, and the tip of a wand glowed menacingly near her right eye.

“Don’t you dare insult our master. You’re not even fit to lick the sole of his boots.” The Death Eater’s face was so close to her, she could practically tell, what he had for dinner.

Instead of fearing a nasty curse, Tonks wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Can you do me a favor? Can you turn your face away from me? Your breath stinks.”

“Still the insolent fool, I see. If it wasn’t for my master’s order, I would have killed you right now. You were just lucky your transformation caught our master off-guard, werewolf. Otherwise, you would have been dead that night.” The Death Eater made his anger known by gripping Tonks’ hair tighter, and pulling her head back, harder.

Tonks might be visibly wincing at the pain, but her mind was running a kilometer a minute. She couldn’t believe what she heard. Harry was turned into a werewolf? When did it happen? Did Remus know? In spite of her predicament, she felt sorry for the Potters. They were such a great family. They didn’t deserve another tragedy like this. The press would have a field day if this information was made public.

“Enough!” the one named Ferghus yelled in a cold voice. “Can’t you tell he’s deliberately goading you?” He firmly grasped Tonks’ left arm, and roughly pulled her away from the other Death Eater. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t escape. You…open the door.” With his wand closely pointed at Tonks’s back, he slowly dragged her away from the doorway.

The Death Eater pointed his wand at the door, but anxiously looked at Ferghus. “What about the creature inside?”

“There is no creature inside,” Ferghus replied with a hint of impatience in his voice. “Do you think the Dark Lord will let any harm befall his prized prisoner?” From the look of the Death Eater, he wasn’t convinced. “Fine… You…” Ferghus pointedly spoke at the other Death Eater. “…look through that window, and tell me what you see.”

The other Death Eater hesitantly obeyed. Tonks thought he must be new, since he didn’t question the order. He fearfully peered through the small barred window. “It’s dark inside. I can’t see anything.”

“Like I said, there is no creature.” Ferghus knew the longer the delay, the slimmer the chance he could pull off his half-baked plan. “We’re wasting time. The Dark Lord wants us to be back to our post by now.” His voice dripped with irritation. “Just open the bloody door.”

Despite their arrogant attitude earlier, Tonks saw them nervously exchanged look, before they magically opened the door. They immediately assumed a defensive position, expecting an attack. When nothing came charging out, the younger Death Eater warily entered the prison cell.

“That’s odd. There’s no one in here,” the young Death Eater called out.


Tonks, however, thought otherwise. She didn’t think a poltergeist made those scary growls earlier. Then, a ferocious growl followed by a bloodcurdling scream emanated from inside the dungeon cell. The scream died suddenly, but the ferocious growling continued. Tonks fearfully stepped away from the doorway, forcefully pushing her captor with her retreat. Instead of closing the door, the other Death Eater nervously remained where he stood, waiting for the attacker to come out.

There was another ferocious growl. The body of the younger Death Eater came flying out. He hit the hastily erected shield of the other Death Eater with a crunching sound. If the two remaining Death Eaters were harboring hope, that their comrade was still alive, they could forget about it. The young Death Eater looked like a mutilated broken doll, literally and figuratively.

“We have to get out of here!” shouted the other Death Eater, clearly in the grip of fear. But, before he could run away, an enormous beast jumped out of the door, and blocked his path.

It was a werewolf. And, it was huge. Tonks had seen Remus’ werewolf form. He was tall and thin with long slender limbs. He had a lack luster coat of brown fur. This werewolf, however, easily towered Remus. It was built like the gladiator of old, muscular and powerful. A shiny grey-white coat of fur covered most of its body. Its long sharp claws were all drawn out, and spread apart. With its bared fangs, Tonks would like to think the werewolf was merely grinning at them. But, judging from the menacing growl resonating from its throat, it’s safe to assume the werewolf was more likely inclined to eat them.

Tonks’ instinct for self-preservation, kicked in. She started to struggle against her captor, wanting only to escape certain death. “Let me go! We have to get out of here!” she whispered emphatically.

“Be still, you stupid fool!” Ferghus vehemently whispered back. “Do you want to die? It will attack you as soon as you flee.”

Tonks wrestled with her rising panic for a moment. Remus had told her the same thing a long time ago. Fear drove a werewolf wild. Tonks took several deep calming breaths. She nodded her head in thanks. It was ironic that a Death Eater brought her to her senses. And, he might have saved her life as well.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Tonks turned, just in time, to see the werewolf dodged. She didn’t think it was possible to move out of the way of a Killing Curse at such close range. But, the werewolf did. And, it looked furious. Tonks was slightly impressed with the other Death Eater. It was obvious he was panicking, but he still managed to shoot a few curses to the werewolf. Unfortunately, it was useless. The werewolf was just moving too fast to accurately shoot a curse. With the Death Eaters wand arm extended, the werewolf easily grabbed it. The Death Eater’s scream of terror didn’t even faze the werewolf, as it used the arm as lever to bat his head against the dungeon wall. A splash of red blood painted the damp mossy wall, and slowly dribbled down to the sandstone floor. It, then, turned its blazing yellow-green eyes to Tonks and her captor.

The remaining Death Eater, Ferghus, without taking his eyes off the werewolf, deliberately pushed her away. He slowly went down on his knees, and bowed his head low. He dropped his wand, and slowly raised his arms, palms up in supplication. “/Arglwydd Blaidd/, please, spare me. I am one of your kinds. I am here to offer my allegiance. Please, don’t kill me.”

Tonks fearfully pushed herself against the wall. Taking care not to make any sudden move, she took small sidesteps to her left. She wanted to have as much distance as possible to the Death Eater, in case the werewolf decided to make a chew toy out of him. She watched with horror as the werewolf slowly and menacingly approached the Death Eater. The werewolf’s nose slowly travelled from the Death Eater’s hands to his head. She saw some of the werewolf’s saliva dripped down to the Death Eater’s hair. This was it. She didn’t want to see the oncoming slaughter, but she couldn’t look away. And then, disaster struck.

She traffed. A long dissonant sound of breaking wind resounded in the quiet corridor of the dungeon. A moment later, a stinky smell of rotting beans wafted through the air.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, we are in enough danger as it is. Do you have to let off?” the Death Eater softly whined, never moving from his position.

Tonks cursed the hot spicy beans she ate earlier to hell and back. Of all the time in the day, she had to do it now. “Sorry, I can’t help it. It just came out,” she replied apologetically. She saw the werewolf sniffed the air, and immediately traced the smell to her. It growled ferociously at her. And, in one strong jump, the werewolf was standing right next to her. Tonks felt her pounding heart jumped to her throat. She lost control of her metamorphmagus ability. She reverted to her true self. “Please, don’t kill me. I give contribution to /Werewolf Support Fund/. If you let me live, I’ll make sure to give more. I’m a close personal friend of Remus Lupin. He’s a werewolf. I’m sure he’ll vouch for me.” Tonks closed her eyes, and moved her face away from the snarling werewolf’s mouth. She felt the werewolf’s rancid breath on her cheek, and waited for the inevitable.

A few moments passed. When nothing happened, Tonks slowly opened her eyes. Expecting the werewolf still nearby, she cautiously looked around. She was surprised it wasn’t anywhere to be found. Not that she wanted it around. In fact, she didn’t care where it went as long as it was gone. The only ones left in the corridor were her and the Death Eater. She noticed he was busy over someone on the floor. If she wanted to escape, now was the time. She stealthily walked closer behind her unsuspecting target. She tightly clasped her hands together in a ball, raised them high above her head, and then…


Ferghus was beside himself with elation. Weylin was right. He was right all along. The proof was lying right before him. For a moment, he studied the sleeping form of Harry. He took note of Harry’s youth. The fact that Harry was young didn’t bother him. The Cyfnos Blaidd might be young. But, with proper training and the support of all werewolves, the young Arglwydd Blaidd would be invincible. He was about to wake up Harry, when he noticed a shadow loomed over his own. He forgot about the prisoner. He quickly turned around, and pointed his wand on the… woman?

“Don’t even try it.” With a hard look on his face, Ferghus slowly stood up. “Move back! Against the wall!” The young woman slowly lowered her hands, and mutinously backed up against the wall. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. But, if you help me, I will let you go.” He saw the woman beadily glared at him, distrust written all over her face. “Look, we are on the lower level of the dungeon. I don’t know if someone heard the screams. But, sooner or later, somebody will come down here and check the prisoners. Now, you can either stay here, and take your chance with the Dark Lord, or you can help me, and gain your freedom.”

The young witch considered him for a moment. She was probably weighing her chances. “What do I have to do?” she asked suspiciously.

Ferghus inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He knew the woman would make the right choice. Looking round the floor, he found his fellow Death Eater’s wand. He threw it towards the witch. He stood still for a moment, waiting for the woman’s reaction. He saw the young witch tightened her grip on the wand as she regarded him again.

“So, what do we do now?” she asked still looking suspicious.

Ferghus felt the witch had momentarily accepted his offer of truce. “Now, we wake him up.” Turning on the sleeping wizard on the floor, he muttered, “Rennervate”

Harry’s body jerked a little, when the spell hit him. And then, his eyes blearily opened. He slowly sat up, and confusedly looked around. “Wh...Where am I?”

“Harry?” A feminine voice penetrated his befuddled mind. He quizzically turned his head to his left. A pretty young woman with a pale, heart-shaped face was kneeling beside him. “Harry, it’s me, Tonks.” Harry just stared at her, confused. “Are you alright? Can you stand?” He nodded uncertainly. “Here… Let me help you up.” She gently held his left arm. He felt another pair of hands grabbed his right arm. Together, they pulled him to his feet. “How did you get here?” she asked with concern.

In spite of his confusion, he could swear he never met the woman. “I like to know that myself. Who are you again?” He turned his head to his right, and saw a worried looking man, constantly scanning the corridor. “And, who are you?”

“Harry, don’t you remember me?” the young woman asked anxiously.

“As much as I like to know if you two actually know each other, we don’t have time for this.” Harry couldn’t miss the urgency in the man’s voice. Briefly looking around, Harry had to agree this was not a good place for any conversation either. “My name is Ferghus. This way, quickly.” The man in his haste half-dragged half-assisted Harry.

“Wait!” Harry was suddenly pulled to a stop. The strange man was clearly annoyed at the delay. The young witch hurriedly walked back. Pointing her wand at the dead body, she transfigured it into a pebble. And then, she cleaned the blood on the wall. She hastily entered the dungeon cell, where the other body was. Flashes of light momentarily lit the dungeon corridor, before she walked out. “Here, take this.” She handed Harry a wand. “Okay, let’s go.”


Neville tumbled on the floor with a cry of surprise. He ended up lying flat on his stomach. Confused and disoriented, he, nonetheless, pushed himself up, and on his feet. He tried to breathe evenly to quell the panic rising up his throat. He immediately reached for his wand, and held it firmly. He took comfort at the power pulsing at its core.

A few lit torches provided Neville with enough light to survey his surroundings. It appeared he was in a big room. And, from what he could clearly see, it was lavishly decorated. He would only need one guess as to who wanted him bad enough to bring him there.

Suddenly, Neville heard a faint moaning sound. He quickly looked around, and found Madam Bones lying in a fetal position on the floor, not too far from him. He hastily fell on his knees beside her to see how she fared. He silently reprimanded himself. The presence of Madam Bones completely slipped from his mind. How could he forget? She’s the reason he was in that place to begin with.

“Madam Bones? Can you hear me?” Neville gently shook her. But, the only response he got was more moaning and whimpering. He knew it was hopeless. She needed immediate medical attention.

“Neville Longbottom… Welcome to my humble abode,” a harsh, sarcastic voice echoed around the room.

Startled, Neville quickly jumped to his feet, wand at a ready. He saw all the torches lit up. The lights revealed a huge hall, almost the size of Hogwarts’ Great Hall. It wasn’t only the hall that was revealed. As if a very large curtain was pulled up, masked Death Eaters slowly materialized lined up against the walls. He was completely surrounded. And, arrogantly standing on a throne dais, smugly smirking at him was none other than…

“Lord Voldemort,” Neville said the name with great distaste.

The Dark Lord answered him with a malevolent grin. Then, his red eyes fell on the hapless former Head of Magical Law Enforcement, his face turned enigmatic. “Take Madam Bones away. I have no further use of her.” Immediately, a Death Eater detached himself from the rank, and ordered three others to move Madam Bones. They quietly left with Madam Bones floating in their midst.

“What are you going to do with her?” Neville asked anxiously. He never felt helpless in his life more than now. If only he could think of something to help her.

“Let’s not talk about Madam Bones. Her suffering is at an end, while yours is just beginning.” Again, Voldemort gave Neville an evil grin, which sent shivers down his spine. Then, the Dark Lord turned his attention to the room at large. And, like a theatrical Master of Ceremony, he addressed the somber crowd of Death Eaters. “My loyal servants, I present to you, Neville Longbottom, The-Boy-Who-Lived!”

The huge hall exploded with loud cheering and whistling. Insults and jeers were even thrown at Neville. But, he didn’t let all the harassing shouts fazed him one bit. Instead, summoning all his Gryffindor courage, he prepared himself for the worse.


Meanwhile, three cautious figures were silently walking through a maze of dungeon corridors. Ferghus had led Tonks and Harry from corridor to corridor, from one dungeon level to another. It would look like they were going nowhere, if not for the Death Eater’s confident guidance.

Tonks’ face had returned to its mature appearance, and her hair had turned pink once more. “Where are we going?” she whispered irately. “We’ve been walking for hours.”

Ferghus didn’t answer her as he slowed down, and carefully peeked at a corner to another corridor. There was no one in sight. He took the turn. Tonks and Harry dutifully followed. “Hardly hours,” he answered softly, while continually looking for any sign of danger. “We are going to an Apparition Point. It’s taking us this long, because I don’t want to be seen by the others. Besides, you two aren’t exactly dressed like Death Eaters.”

“Damn! I knew I forgot something.” She silently cursed herself for not taking the Death Eaters’ cloaks, before she transfigured their bodies. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She was answered with silence. Tonks inwardly seethed with anger. Her suspicion grew a little more. “Let’s stop here for a moment.”

“We can’t. There’s no time. We’re almost there, anyway.” Ferghus continued walking. After some distance, he noticed the absence of footsteps behind him. He stopped, and warily turned around. He saw Tonks and Harry were standing in the middle of the corridor. He walked back, annoyed. “What is it now?” he irately asked Tonks. “We have to go. Death Eaters may come this way.”

“Let them come,” Tonks answered coolly. With a swish of her wand, her cloak turned black. Then, she conjured a black cloak for Harry. “This will do for now.” She turned to face Ferghus. In a voice filled with mistrust, she asked, “Now, I want to know why you didn’t tell us to disguise ourselves earlier. We could have gone straight to this Apparition Point, instead of sneaking around.”

Ferghus nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. “I just thought of it a few minutes ago.”

Tonks glared hard at the Death Eater. “You just thought of it a few minutes ago?” she questioned in disbelief.

“Yes. I have a lot on my mind, okay,” Ferghus heatedly defended himself. “Not to mention I’m betraying the Dark Lord, which will most likely get me killed.” His nostrils flared in anger.

“That’s another thing I like to ask.” Tonks’ expression hardened as she glared at the Death Eater. The tone of her voice grew colder with mistrust. “Why are you helping us?”

For a moment, Ferghus steadily met the pink-haired witch’s glare. Without any sign of hesitation, he answered, “I’m not helping you. I’m helping him.” He turned his attention to Harry, and pointedly looked at him. “He’s important to me, and my people.”

Tonks turned her head sideways, and saw Harry thoughtfully regarding the Death Eater. He was probably thinking the bloke’s delusional. There’s nothing special about Harry. But, then again, he did have a wolf animagus, and he killed Greyback, and he won a duel with You-Know-Who, the most powerful evil wizard alive. He’s turning out to be quite a wizard. She returned her attention to the Death Eater.

“Why is he important to you and your people? Who are your people anyway? Aren’t you a Death Eater?” Tonks asked casually. But, Harry could detect a note of curiosity in her voice. Didn’t they know it’s impolite to talk of someone as if he wasn’t there?

“The matter doesn’t concern you. What is important is to get him out of here.” Harry couldn’t agree more. He watched Ferghus turned around, and started to walk away, an obvious sign that the conversation was over. But, Tonks swiftly caught his shoulder, which forced him to face her again.

“Why doesn’t it concern me? Are you afraid I’ll uncover your evil purpose?” Tonks waited for the Death Eater’s reply, hoping to get her answer.

Harry saw Ferghus’ eyes narrowed. He inwardly sighed in frustration. Tonks and Ferghus were constantly on each other’s throat from the start…stop and argue, stop and argue. If they continued this way, they’ll never get out of there. He could understand Tonk’s suspicion. But, taking Mad Eye’s Constant Vigilance to an extreme was just plain stupid. Couldn’t they just get along? He was about to interrupt them, when he heard very faint footsteps. He concentrated on the sound just to make sure. There was no doubt. They were footsteps alright. And, they were heading their way.

“Quiet you two. Someone’s coming.” His sharp warning shut them up.

Tonks frowned in concentration, as she tried to hear something. “Are you sure Harry? I don’t hear anything.”

Harry was about to repeat himself, when Ferghus intervened. “If he heard someone’s coming, then someone’s coming. Quickly, cover your heads, and walked one step behind me. Leave the talking to me.” He put his wand in his cloak pocket, before walking away. “And, put away your wands.”

_____________________

Arglwydd Blaidd – Welsh; it roughly means Lord Wolf.