Chapter Eight: Silver Cages

About a week later Harry had his first lesson with the Seventh Year NEWT class, the elite. He was, understandably, nervouse, but safe in the knowledge that he knew more than they did, even if he was, approximately, their age. All those bored days spent studying with Nimi in the Azkaban Library had come to good use.

Nimi. He felt a smile flit across his face. He had never thought he'd see her again, he'd thought she was dead… and here she was, alive and well. He couldn't ask for a better gift. He couldn't remember being this happpy since he had found out Sirius was alive.

The grin fell as he remembered what Nimi had told him. Everyone back home thought he was dead… and would, ost likely, think Nimi was too. He didn't want to imagine what it would be like for them, especially Sirius and Mel, who had lost both their godson and their daughter.

He looked up as the bell rang and the last of his students filed in. He stood from the chair behind his desk, clearing his throat. "Right then. I'm Orion Jamison, it's quite possible several of you are older than me, and I am going to be your teacher for Defense this year. My qualifications-" he flicked his hand at the board and writing began to appear, "-are perfect scores on both my Defense OWL's and NEWT's and O's in everything else. I am a qualified duelist," whish was true as he had gotten certified lats year) "and, as I am sure you know, the Lord of Azkaban, which allows me to focus my magic through the Rune of Azkaban instead of a wand. Right. Any questions?" There were none.

Harry ran a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. "Right, so today we are going to be discussing some theory." Seeing the looks of disappointment, he added "Don't worry, it will be interesting. What I want is a civilized- civilized, mind you- discussion on Dark and Light magic. I do expect you to take notes. To start off with, I would like someone to give me a definition of what makes a magic 'Dark'. Yes, Miss…" he checked his seating chart, even though he had no need. "Granger."

"Dark magic are spells used to harm others," she said authoratatively.

He nodded to her. "Five points for a perfect Ministry definition." She beamed. "Unfortunately, I'll have to disagree." She looked stunned, while the others looked amused and intrigued. "Let me put it this way. The 'Unforgivable' curses. Can anyone give me a so-called 'Light' use for them?" Neville Longbottom shakily raised his hand. "Yes, Mr…. Longbottom?"

"Erm," he said, looking embarassed, "I was reading an article this summer about how Muggles are having debates over 'mercy killing'… so if the Killing Curse is painless and someone requests to have their life ended, if they have a chronic condition and would die anyways… is that the sort of thing you mean?" The class looked vaguely impressed, and Harry could hear a murmur of surprise that Longbottom had come up with that.

"Correct. Spot-on brilliant, actually. Ten points." Neville looked delighted with himself. "Now, who can think of a good use for the Imperius curse?" It was Ron's turn to awkwardly raise his hand. "Yes, Mr…. Weasley."

"Well, my dad, he works at the Ministry, and he was telling me about how there had been an idea to use the Imperius to help trauma victims… like, someone who had been mugged or summat and become agoraphobic, they could be forced to face their fears."

"Exactly. Ten points. Now, can anyone think of a 'Light' use for the Cruciatus curse?" Silene. Nothing. "No one? Alright, has anyone here ever been under the Cruciatus?" No one raised their hands. "Really? That's excellent. Now, as someone who has experienced this curse in person, I can tell you it feels as though your very nerves are being set on fire. In fact, I've used that description for it many times. So who's to say that by submitting someone with a paralyzed limb to the curse, you wouldn't reconnect the pathways?" Silence again. "Just a thought."

"Now, here's something else. Miss Granger's excellent definition told us that these spells are used to harm others then. Couldn't, then, the Levitating charm be considered Dark then? I don't know about you, but I've heard horror stories about people being Levitated off cliffs. If that's not harming others, I don't know what is. So can anyone give me another reason why we might classify spells the way we do?"

A hand raised to a Slytherin boy that harry instantly recognized. "Yes, Mr… Zabini?"

"Well," he said, seeming to try and get his thoughts straight, "Does that mean spells are classified by their most common use? I mean, the Cruciatus is usually used to cause pain, and Wingardium Leviosa is usually used for things like lifitng heavy items. Er… yeah."

Harry grinned widely at him. "Exactly! Ten points." He paused for a moment. "Think about what Mr. Zabini just said. Spells are classified by their most common use. It can be compared to, say, frying pans being considered just househols weapons, not bludgeoning devices." This earned a light chuckle. "But in all seriousness, think about it. If spells are classified by their most common use but they can be used otherwise, then we know why spells are called 'Light' or 'Dark'. Why, then, are wizards labeled as such? Miss… Brocklehurst?"

Mandy had shyly raised her hand, and was now bright red. "Er… intent," she managed to squeak. At his curious look, she elaborated. "I mean, as you don't call Aurors Dark wizards and they're liscensed to use the Unforgivables, you cannot label people by what spells they cast, can you? So don't they need to be labelled by their intent, what they're trying to do and doing with their spells?"

"Ten points! Exactly correct. Wizards are grouped for their intent, or why they use the spells they do, not the spells they perform. To take an example, the Hogwarts houses. People tend to assume that Slytherins- no offense to those of you out there- are Dark. Why? Mr. Weasley?"

He was red in the face. "Because Slytherins are all slimy gits?" he asked sarcastically. The Slytherins glared, and the Gryffindors glared right back until they realized Harry was laughing.

"Do you see what I mean? The reason why we tend to group Slytherins the way we do is because many Dark wizards have been cunning. But to be Dark, one does not have to be cunning, and to be cunning, one does not have to be Dark. I would like to consider myself cunning, but I would also like to think myself a Light wizard. And once again on the other side, I have heard of several Dark wizards who were Gryffindors." As gasps echoed through the classroom, Harry spoke louder.

"Think about it. They say that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions; wouldn't you have to be very brave to stand up for what you believe in, even if you act Dark and cruelly in doing so? And Hufflepuffs- loyalty. in a famous example, the Death Eaters. Mustn't they be loyal to Voldemort?" More gasps. Harry sighed. "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. But anyways… where was I? Oh yes. Ravenclaws- in order to come up with new spells to do what you want them to do, whether you use them Darkly or Lightly, you have to be very clever."

People were beginnning to look intrigued, and Harry continued. "Therefore, to extrapolate, it is not the traits of a wizard or, in this example, what House they are in, that makes a wizard light or Dark- it is their intentions. Now, what sort of intentions cause Darkness? Ast a basic level, the same as those that cause Lightness. Desire to protect family, friends, or ideals… love. Fear, sometimes. So what's different?" He paused. The class was silent, listening closely. Harry smiled.

"I once heard a great saying… it was talking about leading to Darkness, and it described the road as one you don't realize you're walking until you've taken too many steps and no longer turn back. Now, there is a famous Muggle argument called Nature vs. Nurture. It is trying to figure out if people are born a certain way, socially acceptable if it were, or if they are raised to be so. In our circumstances, it becomes: Are people born Dark or Light, or are they raised to become so?

"Another saying- "some are born great, some are made great, and some have greatness thrust upon them". The same can be said for alignment. Now, perhaps some people are born Dark; I'm not going to get into an argument over that. What I want to talk about are the other two.

"Some people are raised Dark. They are taught to believe in ideals and ways to support them involving using Dark magic- I am using this as intent, mind you- and thus continue on that path. If you are told to believe something from the time you are small, you will believe it. You could tell a small child for all their life, broccoli tasted like chocolate, and they would believe it still years later.

"Now, that is not to say that they cannot change their minds; it is just amazingly difficult. It would most likely take a cataclysmic event to shake their beliefs, or a series of smaller events. Cataclysmic events can relate to the "greatness thrust upon them". Say, for example, that your family is killed, and you react to it in a certain way. Perhaps you know who killed them. Perhaps you vow avenge your family, and you study up and end up using magic Darkly to defeat the people who killed them. And now, perhaps, you've become Dark youself, having Dark intents based only on your family and the love you had for them.

"Now perhaps this person, once they defeated the person who killed their family, starts seeing the same sorts of things happening to others and starts killing people who do that sort of thing. That could still be argued as acting Lightly, though you're getting on shallow ground. And then suppose you start looking at the types of people who do that, and you pick out adults and children who fit your profile and start killing them off. At the basic level, you only want to protect others from what you had to experience… but you are inadvertently causing it.

"It sneaks up on you, sometimes. Without meaning to, you become what you've hated, what you've been trying to extinguish all along. Ideals are slippery things to hold onto, you know. And that's why you hear about so manny wizards and witches switching sides; because their ideals slip or change, and so do they." The bell rang, and Harry started. He hadn't truly realized how long he'd been talking. "Right. For next time, please write a foot on Dark and Light, just comparing them in your own opinions. If I've given you something to think about please, feel free to extrapolate- but I really, really do not want anything past a foot and a half, and I mean it. Good day."

The class filed out, chatting excitedly. Harry leaned back against his desk with a small smile. He hadn't meant to go off on such a tangent… but if had gotten across the points he'd wanted to make. All in all, that had been good. He looked up at a knock to see Nimi standing there, looking pale and rather pissed off. He felt his stomach drop. What's wrong? he asked mentally.

She sighed heavily. I was in class with Sixth Year Slytherins. I mentioned something about werewolves, I can't remember what, and one of them snickered something about that not being a problem anymore. I asked what he meant, and the whole class looked at me like I was crazy before 'reminding me' about Ministry Edict Number E453. I looked it up, and apparently all werewolves in Britain were recalled almost twenty years ago to be 'studied for educational purposes'. I looked it up, Harry, and Remus 'died' the same year. There's no doubt about it; they're covering up half the people they've taken so that people don't start an uprising. Harry, there must be three hundered people in there!

He stared at her. You're serious? he asked in horror. She nodded. "Let's go," he said calmly, his voice cold and dangerous sounding. "Neither of us have any more classes until after lunch; we have a few hours, and I have a plan." He sent her the idea and they shared a smirk.

"Simple and brilliant as always, Harry. Shall we go, then?" They did.

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It was, all in all, a very impressive scene when Harry Potter stormed the Ministry of Magic Testing Facility Number 84A3. He merely walked in, his cloak billowing behind him in a very Snape-like fashion with Nimi behind him, hers doing the same. It was, he noted, an acquired skill to get it to funnel out in that precise, intimidating way.

They actually managed to make it to the inner doors past the lobby before anyone did anythimg more than stare at them with shock and awe. "Hey!" the secretary finally shouted, standing up. "You can't go in there!"

"Watch me," Harry hissed, whipping out his hand and almost reflexively showing her his palm as he continued on his way. The woman stared at them in shock as they continued, and Nimi couldn't resist sending a mental laugh in Harry's direction, which he returned with a snicker.

He blew the doors open with a very impressive display of wandless magic, startling the people in white robes inside, who seemed to be comparing notes. "Hello," Harry said viciously. "I am here to inspect the facilities. And yes, I have a pass." He displayed it; it had been all too easy to get one from the Minister's office once they realized he was the Lord Azkaban.

"Certainly!" the man who seemed to be in charge said cheerfully, and Harry mentallly snorted in disgust. He could not stand people like that, who could be so cheerful in a place like… like this. It disgusted him. "Right this way."

He led them down the hallway as people began to return to their work. Nimi reflexively grabbed Harry by the arm as they realized what they were seeing. About every seven feet or so there was a door that led into a cell. As they passed the prisoners looked out to them, eyes deadened with loss of hope. The entirety of the cells were made of silver, and the inhabitants were chained to the walls by them. Harry felt as though he would be physically sick, and he removed Nimi's hand from from his arm to clutch it in his own. And then, somehow, they got to even more horrifying displays.

At the end of the corridor they took a right, and their guide began to speak as they passed a lrage window with several men and a woman unconscious on an operating table inside. "Coming up on your right are our testing labs. As you've no doubt been told, we believe we can harness a way to allow them to transform not only on the Full Moon, which would be a great asset in this war."

Harry's hand tightened convulsively on Nimi's as they passed the next window. A man was strapped down to a table and being tortured, his screams not penetrating the glass. Nimi shivered and reflexively moved closer to him. "Here's one who refuses to give in to our initial conditioning. Sometimes they refuse to see that we need their help in this war." He sighed sadly, and Harry realized in disgust that the man truly meant what he was saying. Sick bastard…

Their tour continued until they got to the most horrifying point of all. Rounding another corner, Harry could do nothing more than stare in shock. There were about twenty cages, none taller than about three feet and none wider than four, in the room in front of them. In every cage was a human being, huddled and shivering in too-small dirty clothing and looking as though they hadn't been fed for ages. They most likely hadn't.

"Thank you," Harry said, for once not caring how shaky his voice was. "I've seen enough." His voice slowly strengthened as he spoke. "One of my rights as the Lord of Caer Azkaban and the Druid Isles is to award citizenship to anyone and everyone I choose. As such I award citizenship to every werewolf in the United Kingdom, and they are now under my jurisdiction. I demand for them to be released, or you will suffer the consequences. I am warning you once and once only."

The cheery man blinked at him. "Er… what?" he asked stupidly.

Harry sighed. "Well, I see I have to be more formal- if that's the course you desire, so be it." His voice gained a deeper power to it, and Nimi couldn't help but shiver. The fool guide was cowering. "I, Lord Azkaban of Caer Azkaban and the Druid Isles, do hereby decree that every being termed 'werewolf' in the United Kingdom is hereby awarded citizenship of Azkaban and all the rights and priveledges inclusive thereof. As last of the Lost Line my word is law, and I command for the aformentioned parties to be released from their custody. As the Lord has spoken, the Rune acts." Finishing the formal act, the Rune glowed, the white light flowing throughout the room.

The guide was starting to look angry. "Hey there, you can't-"

Harry interrupted him. "I assure you it is completely and entirely within my legal rights. Complain to the Minister, if you'd like. He can look it up." Without another glance at the man, and knowing that Nimi would take him out if he tried anything, he strode forward and muttered a spell. The locks on all the cages were thrown off, and their inahbitants looked at him in amazement. "Come on," he said, approaching the first person. "Let's get you out of here."

The man looked up at him and shakily, uncertainly reached out his hand. Harry slowly, so as not to startle him, grasped it in his own and pulled him out until he was standing upright and swaying. "Thank you," the man managed to whisper hoarsley, and Harry shook his head.

"Don't thank me. Any decent-" he shot a glare at the guide "-person would have done the same thing. I'm going to give you a Portkey to a hospital, all right? Tell the nurse, her name is Helene, that Orion sent you. Okay?" The werewolf nodded, and in a moment he was off. Harry had never been more glad that he'd managed to track down Helene and get the Hospital in working order.

"Alright," he called out, "Is there a Remus Lupin here?" He half-prayed that there wasn't, that he was still in the cells they had first passed…. but to no avail. There was a cough of surprise, and then-

"Yes," came a hoarse voice, that sounded like it hadn't been used in years. Harry followed the sound of it to the back corner of the room. "Why?"

Harry smiled sadly as he approached the man. "My name is Orion Jamison. I'm the Defense teacher at Hogwarts. A man named Sirius Black works there." He saw Remus jerk and look at him in surprise and hope. "He mentioned you to me in a conversation, once. He thinks you're dead. If you'd like, once I get all the others out of here I can take you to Hogwarts with me instead."

A single tear fell down the other man's face. "I'd like that very much, thank you," he whispered quietly. Harry felt his heart break. No one, no one deserved treatment like this. The Ministry had gone past 'too far' a long, long time ago.

"All right. I'm just going to round up all the others and send them to the hospital…" After doing so (and having to Stun several doctors attempting to stop him) he returned to Remus, who was standing outside his cell, looking around in amazement. Harry sympathized; he knew what it was like to realize you were free, even if his reaction had been dimmed by the shock of discovering he was Lord Azkaban.

"Come on," he said quietly, nodding to Nimi to come over. "Let's get to Hogwarts and have Madame Pomphrey fix you up." Remus smiled shakily as Harry Transfigured an old piece of parchment in his pocket into a Portkey. In a moment, they were gone, leaving the Ministry to discover, hours later in absolute horror, that their most succesful operation had gone down the drain.

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The scene was oddly familiar; Remus in a hospital bed with Madame Pomphrey fussing over him, healing wounds and shoving disgusting looking potions down his throat. Brought back memories of his Hogwarts days, back before everything…

He sighed and smiled at Remus. "Nimi and I will go get Sirius, alright?" Remus nodded, looking apprehensive but joyful. Harry understood the feeling, and imagined he had looked much the same when he had found out he could rescue his own Sirius from beyond the Veil.

Harry walked out into the hallway with Nimi and leaned against the wall with a sigh. She hugged him tightly, much to his surprise, but he returned it. She pulled back and smiled at him. "That was a very good thing you did Harry," she said softly. "Let's go get Sirius."

He nodded and absentmindedly took her hand, setting off down the hallways towards the Great Hall, where he knew Sirius and the others would be eating dinner. "Stay here," he whispered to Nimi. "It will seem more suspicious if both of us go in." She nodded, and Harry entered the Great Hall.

What happened next piqued the students' curiosity and caused several rumours to spread. Their new Defense teacher hurried up to the High Table to whisper something in Professor Black's ear. The man paled and nodded before rising from his seat, and the two hurried from the Great Hall, receiving an assortment of stares from teachers and students alike.

Out in the hallway, Sirius glanced at Nimi before talking to Harry. "You found him?" he asked urgently. "He's alive?"

Harry nodded. "He's in the hospital Wing now-" Without listening to another word Sirius took off running towards the Hospital Wing. Harry and Nimi exchanged an eye roll before taking off after him. Some things never changed.

AN: And there is yet another chapter. In the next we learn more about what happens to Remus, there's a happy reunion, Harry utilizes the War Room to search for the Noble Dead, and maybe (if I can fit it in) there will be a flashback to their old world. If not, that will be in chapter 10. Anyways, that will hopefully be up soon. For AV fans, the next chapter is being worked on and should be up soon.

Aerin