Disclaimer: Seriously. This story is posted to a FANFICTION site. But since the world in general and lawyers in particular don't have any common sense, I'll state it for all of you: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters, copyrights or anything associated. As a matter of fact, I don't even own most of the ideas for this fic. There's so many great fics out there that nothing is really original anymore, so if you find something that is yours, take it as the flattery it is.
Author's Notes: This is my first attempt at writing, so bear with me. I don't have a beta (but I certainly do take applications!), so there's bound to be some errors. The rating is M, but that's just to be on the safe side. Don't expect lemons – while I do enjoy reading those from time to time I'm quite sure I couldn't write a good one. Pairing will be Harry/Multiple.
Kidnapping for Intermediates
Chapter 1: Said the Joker to the Thief
June 6th 1995, around 3 AM
Harry was unable to shake the feeling of dread as he stumbled down the stairs from the Headmaster's office. After the most horrible year of life he'd ever had (which had to count for something when one considers the Dursleys) he managed to get lured into a trap by the Dark Lord. He had gotten all of his friends badly injured, witnessed the death of the one person he had wanted to save, and to top it all off, Dumbledore chose exactly that day to pile a prophecy on him which stated that he would be killed by the same Dark Lord he had just escaped by "sheer dumb luck", as McGonnegal once had phrased it. Actually, the prophecy said it was kill or be killed, but Harry wouldn't give himself any illusions. There was just no way to catch up on several decades of experience, even less without resorting to the Unforgivable Curses himself.
Just as he passed the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, a realization hit him: What if he actively attempted to void the Prophecy? It's not like his life was actually something to look forward to. He would be imprisoned at the Dursleys' once again, with no one writing, calling or giving the slightest hint of a shit about him. Hermione might be disappointed, but he was sure she would get over it. She was the only person left who might be worth trying for, but what did she get for being near him? A brush with death, this time even closer than the times before. The rest of magical Britain could go to hell for all Harry cared, and he would ask her to leave the country in a good-bye note. His mind made up, he summoned a piece of parchment and wrote his last letter before ascending the stairs.
15 minutes earlier
The door to the Infirmary opened soundlessly. Parvati had silenced the hinges so it would not wake any of the occupants. The soles of her shoes were also silenced for good measure. She quickly made her way along the row of beds to the most severely injured occupant. The funnel and empty potion bottles were still lying on Hermione's bedside table, so Parvati could easily see what had been administered to the bushy-haired girl. She quickly raised a silencing ward around the bed and let out a groan. Of course those British bigots would not use the more potent and expensive healing draughts on a muggle born, never mind how close to death they were. Wasting no time with the lock on the potions cabinet, she pulled a vial from her pocket and poured it down Hermione's throat. Then she pulled a second item from her trouser pocket, lifted the cover from Hermione's feet and slid the small ring over one of the sleeping girl's toes before disillusioning it with a tap of her wand.
She looked up to see Hermione looking at her, bleary-eyed and confused, but silenced her with a gesture before she could speak. "Shhh! No need to wake them all up, is there? I just gave you a drink of Phoenix tears and a voice-activated portkey. You should be fine enough tomorrow morning to use it, and you should be safe enough to not need it before then. I'll give you the password now, ok?" Parvati tapped her wand on Hermione's nose and whispered "Memoriam". As Hermione felt the foreign memory enter her mind, her eyes widened in surprise. THAT was not something she would say accidentally.
Parvati quickly checked all her pockets and the ground around the bed and said to the wounded witch: "One last piece of advice before I leave. DO NOT believe ANYTHING the Headmaster says to you. He has a few compulsions on you which will make it hard to distrust him, but I want you to try as hard as you can. And don't worry, everything will come together tomorrow. Now you need to sleep and get better. Somnus." With that done, she turned and left. Once past the doors of the Hospital Wing, she quickened her steps to a run while pulling a shrunken broom from a hidden sheath on her right wrist.
Truth be told, Albus Dumbledore was a happy man tonight. He hadn't really hoped for this whole fiasco to turn around so nicely, but he certainly wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. That Black was out of the picture had to be the greatest success of the night. Voldemort's failed attempt to possess Harry was good news, too. Albus had been worried that the blood protection would be all but useless after Riddle had used Harry's blood in his resurrection ritual, but it seemed to still be powerful enough. With Black's incessant nagging about the boy's living condition finally over, another summer with the Dursleys would go a long way to strengthen Harry's resolve to do what had to be done. And next year the time would finally come that he could unbind the boy's magical core, point him at Riddle and let everything take care of itself. With a sigh, Albus got up from his desk chair and started recasting the wards Madam Umbridge had broken so she could use the office.
Now that everything was done, Padma could finally start packing. She would have to leave the trunk with her clothes behind as to not raise suspicion, but that was unimportant anyway. The most precious possessions she had were either always on her body or hidden behind a Fidelius charm at the underside of her bed's canopy. Of the things hanging there one was a map of Hogwarts, not unlike the Marauders' Map, but instead of one point for every person in the castle this one showed only four. Two were for herself and her sister, the other two were for Granger and Potter. On either side of the map were two neverending parchment rolls with scrying quills keyed to the two Gryffindors. It had been a seldom stroke of luck that she had – ahem - found the second set of the horribly expensive equipment in Chang's luggage. The chinese bint could hardly complain to Professor Flitwick about her missing dark artifact, could she? On the other hand, it made clear that she was there for the same reason as the twins. The last bit of doubt about that went out the window when the stupid woman tried to pull a 'girlfriend' routine on Potter.
Finding the blood two key the scrying quills to their targets was not that hard either. Potter was a regular in the Infirmary, and with the typical British ignorance no one cared at all about stuff like properly cleansing used bandages before throwing them out. Blood Magic was illegal after all, so no one would use it, right? Getting Granger's blood was even easier, simply because she used the same laundry basket as Parvati. Now Padma held in her hands a complete set of notes on every word the two teens had heard and spoken as well as every spell they had cast or that had hit them from the second day of term until now. There were of course a few things missing. During the Christmas holidays both had been too far away for the quills to work, unfortunately the same went for the last few hours when they supposedly fought Death Eaters at the ministry. Every time Potter had gone to the Headmaster's office the quill had stopped writing because of the wards around the place. Fortunately Umbitch had taken down the wards when she had usurped the Head Office and Dumbledore had not found the time to reapply them, so Padma had now a transcript of the prophecy Dumbledore had just revealed to Harry.
Right now Harry was walking up the steps to the Astronomy tower after standing at the base of the stairs for an awfully long time. With all the abuse he had taken over the year, it was fairly obvious what he wanted to do once he was up there. Padma had to admit she was wondering what this was all about. Dumbledore could have stopped most of it at any time, but he seemed unwilling to. What sense did that make? No matter, they would find out tomorrow anyway. She thought a quick message about what was happening to her sister who was just leaving the infirmary. Then she put the precious scrolls in a secure bag, pulled her broom from her wrist holder and unshrunk it with a tap of her wand. After a last look around the room that had been her home away from home for the last five years, she flew out through the window.
It was dark and quiet on the top of the Astronomy tower. The place had been frequented by snogging couples for the last fifty years or so, but the fear of Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad had ended that. For Harry, it was so much the better. He really had no need to see anyone, and he had even less of a need to be reminded of the happiness he had been denied for the last fifteen years. Now that he had made up his mind he didn't want to waste any more time. He sat down on the banister and swung his legs over it so he was sitting on the edge. Taking in the view, Harry was unable to suppress a cold laugh. He remembered how he really only felt free when he was flying. Well, he thought, this last flight would free him alright.
He closed his eyes and jumped.
A/N: I'm feeling evil today. Welcome to Cliffhanger City!