Disclaimer: This fanfiction is based on characters created by J.K. Rowling.
Note: This is a sequel story to A Dark Corridor. If you haven't read A Dark Corridor, all you need to know to get you (temporarily) up to speed is that Draco Malfoy has been sent back in time, he meets and befriends a younger Severus Snape, and has discovered that both he and Sev have a special power that is very rare among wizards. It is now summer of 1976...
Azkaban Prison was located in the North Sea, so even in the early July sunshine, it seemed rather dank and cold. Albus Dumbledore felt little joy at the prospect of going there, but he had to. Two of his students were there, and he needed to keep an eye on them.
It wasn't because they had done anything wrong, that Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy were made to spend their summer holiday on the prison island. It was because of the fact that they had an ability, a special knack, one that hasn't shown up in the Wizarding world in about 500 years. They were able to destroy a wizard's or witch's ability to use magic. People with that peculiar ability were known as Breakers. Breakers were regarded with great respect, but also with great fear. After all, what kind of wizard enjoys Breaking others?
Not that the Wizarding world in general had anything to fear from Malfoy or Snape. They were fitted with magical collars that would keep them from being able to just Break anyone. If they were supposed to Break anyone, they needed the permission of the Ministry of Magic, and they were given a special gem which enabled them to Break even with the collar on. Most of the time, the only wizards or witches Broken were criminals that had been sent to Azkaban. In the old days, before the times of the Dementors, a Breaker would be at the trial of the accused. If someone was found guilty of performing one of the Unforgiveable Curses (Imperious Curse, Cruciatus Curse, or Avada Kedavra), the Breaker would use his or her power on the wizard or witch before they were sent to Azkaban. When the last of the old Breakers died, with no apparent prospect of anyone who would ever be able to Break again, the Dementors were made into the Azkaban guards.
Breakers did not only destroy the ability; they were also able to restore it. Once a prisoner of Azkaban had served their time, a Breaker could restore them before they were returned to regular society. As of right now, one of their two potential Breakers already was well adept at healing; Severus had already healed his Potions master, Professor Colton, of his Squib condition, and he also healed a fellow student who had been accidentally Broken, and while healing the ability to use magic in Remus Lupin, Severus also healed him of lycanthropy. The other, Draco, already knew how to Break. He already broke two students: Rachel Lestrange (who killed herself not long afterwards), and Remus Lupin. It amazed anyone who knew about this case that the Malfoy boy found Breaking the easiest thing in the world. While Severus found the healing (once he put the collar on) to be an almost orgasmic experience. Now, one had to learn what the other already knew how to do. And for that, the boys were taken to Azkaban. There were plenty of prisoners there for them to practice on...
Dumbledore, the Headmaster of their school, Hogwart's, had petitioned the Ministry of Magic for direct custody of the two sixteen year olds. So far, the Ministry has been considering it, in their own insufferably slow fashion. In the meantime, Severus' uncle Aloysius has a tenuous hold on his nephew's future, while Draco Malfoy was a ward of the Ministry, until they decided whether or not to contact his father, the too-young-to-have-a-sixteen-year-old-son Lucius. But far be it from the Hogwart's Headmaster to give up all hope. He intended to be at the ready.
One arrives at Azkaban Island by boat. Dumbledore looked at the misty coastline of the isle and shuddered. Most likely, the Dementors were the ones giving the island that chill more than even its geographic location. He had a copy of the Daily Prophet, which had all the campaign news for the election of the new Minister of Magic. As usual, he was asked to run. And as usual, he refused to do so. And so, the front runners were both offering opposing views on how to deal with the growing threat of Voldemort. Or, as they liked to call the dark wizard, "You-know-who." Actually, Dumbledore preferred to call him Tom, but that was beside the point.
"An'...here ye are, Master Dumbledore. I 'ope yer bidness don' takes yer lon' an' yer gets outta here in a jif! I's be waitin' out by the south dock, sir, but on'y til noon. I leaves here exac'ly at noon, an' I don' comes back til tomorra," the gnarled old sailor warned Dumbledore as he rowed to the eastern dock.
"I should hope that my business here will be brief enough to meet your schedule, sir," Dumbledore answered. He then took his leave. Two ministry officials were there to greet him. One was Alastor Moody, the grizzled, very aged Auror who people had thought, perhaps a hundred or so years back, might have the power to Break himself. He never actually learned the way to do it, but he was the closest person alive who might be able to guide the two boys. The other was a very young, burly man with a mustache just starting to grow.
"Why, Mr. MacNair! Are you employed by the Ministry now?" Dumbledore asked, recongnizing his former student. Class of '74. His best grades had been in Care of Magical Creatures.
"Indeed, but it might not be for long..." MacNair said lightly.
"Why is that?" Dumbledore asked.
"He's in charge of the Dementors," Moody growled. "He's just being stupid; it's not like the Ministry wouldn't have use for him even if these two young fools with the White Sleeves work out."
Dumbledore walked to the main building alongside Moody. "I'm most anxious to see them. How are they doing?"
"Bah! They're two callow, immature boys who don't have their minds on anything except girls and Quidditch!" Moody grunted.
"And what did you have on your mind at age sixteen, Alastor?" Dumbledore asked his old friend. "Surely not what these two have to deal with?"
"Well, I'll leave it for you to see yourself, Albus. This way," Moody grunted, leading the group to the gates.
There were two Dementors there, and Dumbledore took out his wand, about to move them away with a Patronus Spell. But MacNair stepped forward, unperturbed, and opened the gate for the other two wizards. With a sidelong glance at Moody, Dumbledore put his wand away. "You'll have to leave your wand at the guard house before going inside, Professor Dumbledore," MacNair reminded him.
Once they were all inside, cleared by the guards, the three of them walked through to the courtyard. At the moment, only two teenaged boys dressed in black robes decorated with silver bolts of lightning on the chest and white sleeves, stood in the scant sunlight. They both wore identical collars about an inch wide, gold in color, which had no visible clasps. Other than that, the similarities between them ended. Severus, with his black hair and eyes and prominent nose, was a direct contrast to Draco's white blond hair and pale gray eyes and more delicate features. Somehow though, the two of them standing there together like that, dressed as they were, they looked like a matched set. Yin and Yang.
"Gentlemen?" Dumbledore began, smiling as he stepped into the stony courtyard.
Severus' face lit up with joy. "Professor Dumbledore! You came!" He dashed towards Dumbledore, but stopped short before him. Dumbledore put his hand on Sev's shoulder affectionately. Draco swooped down to Severus' side, eyeing Dumbledore.
"Of course I came. I wanted to see how you two were doing. It's good to see that you both look as well as can be expected in spite of your circumstances," Dumbledore replied.
"We're doing about the same as when we got here," Draco stated darkly.
"Aye, that's an understatement!" Moody complained. "Maybe you ought to have added, 'just as lousy as when we got here,' Malfoy!"
"Alastor..." Dumbledore warned, "Ease up on them."
"Fine, you'll see what I'm saying for yourself. Come on, you lads. In you go. We've got another one for you..." Moody told them. Draco's face was unreadable, but Severus' face grew very apprehensive.
"But...we just tried yesterday," he said in a small voice.
"What do you think this is? Vacation?" Moody snapped.
"As a matter of fact," Dumbledore cut in, "it is their vacation time!"
Draco made a dramatic sigh. "Severus," he said tiredly, "the sooner you learn how to Break, the sooner we can get the hell out of here."
"And where do you think you'll be going, Laddie? Certainly not Mexico; the Ministry would have you both back here by the scruffs of your worthless necks faster than lightning," Moody told them.
"Well, it'll certainly be somewhere away from you!" Draco countered.
"Fellows, come along; the prisoner is waiting," MacNair reminded them. Sullen, Severus followed MacNair. Draco came along, leading Dumbledore and Moody back into the main building. The Breakings, such as they were, took place in a small chamber within the higher security areas, which meant that there were plenty of bars on the windows and between doors and in hallways. The prisoner, a wretched skinny man, bookended with two Dementors, waited in that chamber.
Despite the fact that the prisoner looked for all the world as if he were in a semi-comatose state, as soon as he saw the two young men come inside with the White Sleeves, the collars, the lightning bolts, his terror showed in his pale eyes. It was odd, how images from hundreds of years ago could still provoke horror and revulsion, even if the rational mind tells one that such things just don't happen anymore... No doubt, this prisoner, just like any other wizard or witch, had seen etchings and prints that were hundreds of years old of men and women who had looked just like those two young men. They had been designed to inspire fear (back in those days) of what would happen to people if they were sent to the dreaded wizarding prison.
Of course, it didn't help that these two lads had seen those very same images in their own minds, and didn't want to be associated with such horror. Draco Malfoy had risked his life and his sanity to keep his ability a secret. In the end, it became impossible to not say anything, but he resented the collar very much. Severus Snape was not troubled so much by the robe and the collar; he'd been drilled by his dreadful uncle that this was the key to regaining the glory of the Snape family. It was the actual doing of the deed that made Severus react the way he did.
"Now, this fellow here has agreed to these experiments so that he would get his time here reduced," Moody told them. Of course, Draco and Severus already knew that any prisoner who was brought before them had made this kind of deal, but Moody must have said it for Dumbledore's benefit. "Let's not waste his time and ours like you did yesterday, Snape! We all know you have the ability. You need to stop being such a ninny and do it."
"May I cut in and say something?" Dumbledore asked.
"For God's sake Albus, not now! Let the boy get started. We can chit-chat later to your heart's content," Moody snapped. Dumbledore was only a little surprised at Moody's brusque manner; the man had no time to be at all polite. But this seemed worse than usual for Moody.
Severus took the gem. It was red, fit into the palm of his hand, and had a misty, swirling quality to it. He stared at it, as though focusing. Then, he looked at the shivering prisoner. He focused magical power through the gem, into a part of the man's brain that Severus had only just started learning about, the pineal gland. Wizards and witches had very well developed pineal glands, while Muggles had pineal glands that were virtually shriveled up in their brains. What Severus was supposed to be able to do was smash the pineal gland inside the wizard's brain with his magic. It was not as easy as it sounded. It took a very special knack to be able to focus magic past the wizard's own magical powers and destroy a part of his brain.
He could find it easily enough; it was like a pine nut, which was why it's called the pineal gland. He could feel the magical power circling it like fingers around a soft sponge. Now, all he was supposed to do was crush it. But then, it happened just like it did every time before. He saw the man's face, the helpless horror of what he was about to experience. And just like before, Severus lost his nerve. He retreated, tossed the gem onto the floor, then ran into the corner and started to vomit.
With a crafty smirk, Draco picked up the gem. He had Broken before; it was so easy... the gem led him directly to the man's pineal gland. His magic squeezed it, and the man began to scream. Draco glanced at Dumbledore's horrified expression and began to laugh...
"James, dear, have you finished the tea yet?" an elderly lady called weakly from the parlor.
"Coming, Gran," James Potter called back, pouring the hot water over the metal ball with some white tea into a teapot. He'd let it steep for several minutes while they had scones. Or at least, he'd have a scone or two. Gran didn't seem all that hungry lately with that nasty potion she had to take to keep her strength up. He sighed very quietly, and brought the tea out to his Gran, to where she sat in her highback chair.
"Oh, thank you dear. Let it cool off while we talk. Have you gotten a letter back from Sirius yet? Do you think he'll be coming over this summer like he did last year?"
"I dunno Gran. I think his Mum wants to keep him home this year..." James answered, his eyes evading his grandmother. In truth, he'd told Sirius that since his Grandfather had died, and his Gran wasn't very well, that it might not be such a good idea if he came this year. Naturally, when Sirius heard that James' grandfather had died just after school ended, he threatened to run away from his house and camp out by the Potter's to help out.
"Hmm," Gran replied. James knew that his grandmother wasn't terribly fond of the Black family. She thought they were, with the notable exception of Sirius, complete and total snobs. "James," she finally said, trying to pour herself some tea until James took over, "I hope you told him it was perfectly fine to come here. I hope you didn't tell him not to come because you think I can't deal with the extra company. Why wouldn't I want to have him here? He makes me laugh. I need to laugh, for the little time I have left before I join your grandfather and your parents..."
James dropped his scone on his plate, uneaten. He'd lost his appetite. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. James opened it and there was his best friend, Sirius Black, grinning broadly and standing amongst all of his worldly possessions packed into two large shiny black trunks.
"Sirius! What are you doing here?" James gasped.
"Well, after I got your Gran's letter, telling me how broken up you were about your grandpa, and how you weren't eating and all that, I decided I'd throw myself out of Number 12 Grim Moldy Place and take shelter here. Ah, Mrs. Potter," Sirius beamed, showing himself in when James found himself unable to speak. "A rose by any other name would never smell as sweet."
"Ah, Mr. Black, no one could botch the Bard quite as wonderfully as you can! Come give me a hug Sirius!" Sirius embraced the tiny woman seated in the chintz patterned highback just like she was his grandmother.
"Grandmother? Did you write to Sirius?" James asked suspiciously.
"Oh, I hope you're not annoyed with me. I took that nonsense letter you wrote to Sirius and replaced it with my own. I suppose the grief over your grandfather's death made me do it..." she said quickly. James decided not to respond. This was not grief that made her do it, he knew. This was just Gran as usual. "I do hope your mother will be sending the annual Howler, Sirius!"
"As soon as it arrives, I guarantee you'll be the first to know it!" he promised.
"Grandmother," James said gravely, "there was...stuff about Remus in that letter."
"Oh, I do hope he can make a visit this year as well! Just think, my house filled with handsome young men!" she giggled.
"You know, Mrs. Potter, that if you're not careful, the whole of Godric's Hollow will be talking about you," Sirius told her with mock seriousness.
This only led to more giggles. "Let 'em talk! Now, you just sit yourself right down, and let's have a good long talk about your O.W.L.'s. James got his back. He's got ten! Harold would have been so proud..."
James said nothing. He didn't want to point out to his Gran that, during his last days, Harold Potter would not have been too proud of James. Grandpa hadn't even recognized him.
Petunia Evans sat on a reclining beach chair in her backyard, trying to catch some sun. She opened up a book, and started twisting her mousy blonde hair with her fingers idly. Her thin body barely filled the bathing suit she was wearing. She tried, once again, to start reading this stupid shit for school. Required reading lists always drove her crazy; these books were never about anyone important, like movie stars or rock singers. They were all written hundreds of years ago by stuffy old men who never got out.
She peeked up from her book when she saw the neighbor boy, Henry, come out of his back door. He'd porked out a bit since their school term had ended a few weeks ago. Henry's dark eyes and sandy hair, however, remained the very same as before. He leaned over the fence dividing their two properties when he saw Petunia. "Hey? Still trying to read that rot?" he called.
"It's hopeless. I'm going to have to get into town soon to buy some of the review notes, or I'll flunk out before I even get back to school!" Petunia complained, getting up from her chair to talk to him.
"How's Lily doing?" Henry asked.
Petunia made a face, and spat, "She's fine! She's getting all her reading done!"
"She's still going to that special school?" Henry asked. Petunia was at first annoyed with Henry. No doubt, he whacks off in the loo every night thinking about her sister. If only she could work that to her advantage...
"Tell me what she does at that school again," Henry asked hungrily.
Maybe she could...
Petunia leaned down, in a conspiratorial manner, and said, "They do pagan rituals there. Dancing under the moon, naked, around a huge fire. Orgies and group sex. Lots of drugs, but they like to call them potions..."
"Wow..." Henry obviously was imagining Lily frolicking naked around a huge bonfire with loads of other nymph-like girls. But then he snapped out of it, and asked, "Why do your parents let her go to a school that does that kind of thing?"
Petunia sighed dramatically. "I've tried to tell them, but they won't listen! Lily actually told me that she has a boyfriend there. He's been, you know, doing it with her. She misses having it, I can tell. I bet..." Petunia said slyly, "that she wouldn't mind having someone, like a guy next door, that could, you know, do it with her until she gets back to school in the fall."
Henry gaped. "Really?"
"Gee, I wonder if...well, maybe next time you see her, you should see if you and she could... One thing she did tell me, was that her boyfriend treats her really rough. And she told me that she kind of likes that. It turns her on. Go figure..." She shrugged, then sauntered off, leaving Henry drooling with the thought of Lily surely filling his head.
You can tell that this is Alternate Universe; I still have Snape as being a pureblood, and a few other things will be popping up that contradict the books. But that's what happens with Time Travel stories! Happy Reading!