Harry followed the Minister outside to the gates of Hogwarts, clutching the small bit of parchment Malfoy had given him in a shaky, sweaty palm. He had no idea what Malfoy would possibly find so important to pass on to him in such an inopportune time. Being in the close company of the Minister would not warrant Harry many opportunities to sneak a look at Malfoy’s words.

“Well, Harry, here we are,” the Minister said as he turned expectantly to Harry. “Since you do not yet have a license to Apparate, nor do you know where precisely we are going, I must insist that you allow me to aid you.” The Minister held out his arm and Harry grew uncomfortable knowing what he must do. Stepping closer to the older man, Harry reached out and grabbed the proffered arm. Feeling that more secure contact was necessary, Scrimgeour grasped Harry’s hand with his and then they both disappeared with a loud pop.

When the world came back into focus, Harry found himself standing in a comfortable, ordinary looking office. A desk, chairs, paintings hanging on the wall, paper weights and other oddities that all seemed perfectly normal. Normal, except for the fact that the office belonged to his new guardian, and in that, nothing was normal.

The Minister walked around to one of the drawers in his desk and started searching for something.

“Harry, go ahead and have a seat. There is one small matter that needs my attention and then I will be right back to show you to your quarters.” With that, the Minister left the office. Harry could distinctly hear the sound of the door being locked. Instead of wasting time looking around at the various items in the room, Harry quickly took a seat and fished from his pocket the small note Malfoy had given him. He wanted to read it quickly and have it put away or destroyed before the Minister came back.

Be cautious of Wainwright, Howard, Langley, Smythe, Vassell.
They answer to You-Know-Who. Only ones I personally know about. Probably others. Oh, McNair and Swenson/Swanson?

D.

Harry read the note again, memorizing the names that Malfoy had given him. Obviously, the list was people who work at the ministry that Malfoy thought Harry should know about. Harry thought that was kind of decent of Malfoy, unless of course the git was giving him all of the wrong names to throw him off guard.

Harry didn’t want to perform magic in the Minister’s office, thinking perhaps there would be detection spells or some other way to tell he had done magic. Instead, Harry folded the note as small as he could and stuffed it into his shoe. Surely, if he was searched they would not make him take off his shoes. One could always hope.

At this point, Harry had little to do but to look around Scrimgeour’s office. He did all his looking from his chair, not wanting to get caught looking like he was snooping around. Harry’s eyes were more drawn to the paintings on the wall then other objects in the room and wondered for a minute if the portraits of some of the past Minister’s would let him in on what Scrimgeour was really like. Having only pondered what questions to ask for a few minutes, the door to the office suddenly opened.

“Alright, Harry, let’s be on our way. We’ve many things to go over and it is already late.” The Minister stood in the doorway motioning for Harry to precede him into the hall.

Harry hoped that he would not be walking around too much of the Ministry building. He really didn’t want to be recognized and it would surely bring up many questions if people saw him just waltzing around with the Minister. He especially didn’t want to be spotted by any of the people on Malfoy’s list.

Luckily, the Minister led him to the nearest lift and they started their descent. When the lift finally came to a rest, Harry had the spooky suspicion that they were on the very lowest level. When the doors finally opened, Harry was somewhat relieved to be greeted by very bright light. He had assumed that going this far down, it would have been more dungeon like. Snape would hate it down here, Harry thought.

“Where are we?” Harry asked as he rushed to keep up with the Minister.

“Well, Harry, we are on the lowest floor of the Ministry. This is where we keep…um, well, where we let people stay while visiting the Ministry. Let me see, we have a few international dignitaries staying for a few days while they conduct business here at the Ministry. There are also a few Aurors and other staff that work overnight shifts that come here to get a few hours of sleep now and again. I think you’ll be perfectly comfortable here. No worries, Harry.” Scrimgeour said all of this with an air of nonchalance.

Harry thought that all sounded strange. Why would Ministry employee’s need to sleep when they were supposed to be working the night shift? Wasn’t the whole point of working at night was to be working? Also, wouldn’t international dignitaries stay at a nice hotel or just Portkey or floo home at the end of the day?

Harry began to notice that the further they walked the less bright the hallway were. It was beginning to dim and unless Harry’s eyes were playing tricks on him, he could almost swear that further down the hallway it was completely dark.

After many twists and turns, Harry could no longer tell which way they had come from. Eventually, the Minister stopped in front of a large wooden door. There was one small window in the door, large enough to just look in or out. Scrimgeour removed some keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. With a little effort the Minister swung the heavy door open and motioned for Harry to go in.

“Home sweet home, Harry. For now, anyway. We’ll try to find you more suitable accommodations as quickly as possible.” Again, Harry thought something was up. Why would they need to find him a more suitable place to stay? It was good enough for international dignitaries, right?

Harry remembered what the Headmaster had said about just going along with everything and not causing trouble. He had a Portkey and he could use it if his life was in danger. So for now, Harry would go along with what the Minister wanted. With those thoughts in mind, Harry reluctantly stepped inside the room.

“Now, Harry, there will be a few of my men coming along shortly to make sure you are settled in well enough. They will also bring you something to eat if you are hungry. It is getting late and I have things to see to, so I will be by tomorrow and we can work out the particulars involving your education. Until then, good night.” The Minister did not wait to see if Harry had anything to say. Scrimgeour stepped back into the hallway and closed the door.

Harry stood in the middle of the small room and let out a heavy sigh as he heard the door being locked. He quickly assessed the room, finding only a small bed with a dirty thin mattress and no blanket or pillow. There was a large pot in the corner and Harry could only imagine what that was for seeing as how there was no bathroom in the small room.

It was pretty clear that his accommodations were not meant to be comfortable. Harry could not believe that Scrimgeour had appeared to be so collected and cool and had said things like ‘home sweet home’ only to leave Harry in a room unfit for even a dog. Of course, this thought led Harry to think about Sirius and how he probably lived like this or worse while in Azkaban. He quickly decided that he would not allow thoughts of Sirius to invade his mind; not while being held prisoner. Thoughts of Sirius would only serve to further his current state of anxiety and depression.

Harry was tired and at the same time too scared to sit on the dirty mattress. Even though the Dursley’s had treated him horribly and locked him in a small room and his mattress had been thin, it had at least been clean. There was no way that Aunt Petunia would have ever let something as filthy as the mattress in his current room to be present anywhere in her house.

Thinking the dirty floor a better prospect than the dirty, mystery stained mattress, Harry sat down and leaned back against the wall. It was clear, at this point, that Harry was being held prisoner. However, he would do as Dumbledore requested and stay put unless his life was in danger. He would wait it out and see exactly what Scrimgeour was up to and try his best to avoid the faces that went with the names on the list Malfoy had given him. The only problem with that plan was that he had no idea what the people on the list looked like. He would need to keep his ears just as open as his eyes; try to remember names when he heard them.

Fatigue finally taking over, Harry dozed off trying his best to not fall over onto the floor. It seemed only a few minutes later, although Harry had no doubt that it could have been longer, that the door was slammed open and two men came in.

They wasted no time in grabbing Harry and quickly pinning his arms behind his back. The taller of the two men stood behind Harry and held his arms tight. Harry could tell that the man was very strong, as he could not budge an inch to save his life. The other man was smaller but still intimidating all the same. He quickly yanked off Harry’s Portkey necklace and began to search his pockets. His wand and the potion vials Snape had given him were also quickly confiscated. Then the smaller man squatted down and started to take off Harry’s shoes.

“What are you doing? You can’t take my shoes!” Harry started kicking his feet trying to keep them out of the smaller man’s grasp.

“Johnson! Can’t you hold him still! Geez! I thought you were supposed to be the strong arms of this operation!”

“Hey, I’m doing my job. All you have to do is strip the kid. It’s not my problem if you can’t take off his shoes.” Harry quickly noticed that although Johnson claimed to be doing his job just fine, the hold on his arms became more painful and he was being stretched back so far that he could hardly look down at the smaller man on the floor. Harry kept kicking in a vain attempt to keep his shoes and everything else. These two goons had already taken his wand, potions and Portkey. He couldn’t let them have all his clothes, as well. He couldn’t let that happen, although he didn’t see much hope in being able to stop them.

“OW!” The smaller man grabbed his bleeding nose. “You kicked me in the face, you little bastard!” The man stood back up and was face to face with Harry. “You know, sometimes I enjoy doing things the easy way. I could just take my wand and say a little Evanesco and you would be just as naked as the day you were born. However, sometimes I get more joy from the fight and now we are going to fight. You will not win, little boy.” With that the man brought his fist forward and connected with Harry’s nose. There was a sickening crack and Harry let out a howl of pain. Blood immediately began gushing from his nose.

“Why are you guys….what’s going on? I want to see the Minister! Now!” Harry tried to resume kicking his feet but gave up when he realized that his shoes and socks had already been taken off. The smaller man didn’t mention finding a note, so it must have still been tucked safely away in the toe of his shoe.

“The Minister sent us, boy. Told us to strip you, check for magical objects, wands, Portkeys and such and then we were to feed ya. Now, no more questions!”

“You can’t do this! I haven’t done anything wrong!” Harry tried to struggle but was too distracted by the blood that was running from his nose down to his mouth. Harry thought fleetingly that he could really use that pain potion or the blood replenisher; and to think, Snape said he probably wouldn’t need the potions.

“We don’t know what’s what boy. We’re just doing what we’re told,” Johnson said from behind Harry. “You just hold still, let us do what we need to do and no one will get hurt. Well, no more hurt than you already are. Peterson, you think you can speed this up a little?”

The smaller man, Peterson, started to unbutton Harry jeans.

“Is that really necessary? I mean, you already took everything I had on me. Can’t you leave me my dignity?” Harry started to struggle again. He wasn’t going to let these men strip him naked without a struggle.

“Dignity? Ha! Did you hear that, Johnson? The kid thinks I should leave him his dignity. Listen, kid, by the time the Minister is done with you, you won’t be worried about dignity. Now, shut up. I won’t tell you again to stop asking questions!” Harry’s jeans were abruptly pulled off his legs, quickly followed by his boxers.

Harry knew that he was blushing and his face felt hot. He was completely naked from the waist down and could not remember a time that he was so embarrassed. Finally, Johnson had to let go of his arms so that the other man could remove Harry’s shirt. Harry gave a vain attempt at escape, but knew that it was pointless. The shirt was quickly removed and all of his clothes were stuffed into a bag that Peterson had pulled from his back pocket.

Peterson then proceeded to put Harry’s wand, Portkey and the potion vials in the bag. With all of Harry’s possession sacked away, Peterson left the room. Johnson stayed and walked a circle around Harry, waving his wand and murmuring incantations.

“Do you have anything else in your possession?”

“What? Are you serious? Does it look like I have anything left?” Harry held his arms out wide to clearly show that all that was left was his naked self.

“Yes, well, I had to ask. Here, put this on. That’s all the Minister gave me to give to you.” Johnson threw him what looked like a long sleeping gown, something similar to what Madam Pomfrey gave her patients to wear.

Harry quickly put the garment on, thankful to have anything to cover himself with. Once he was dressed he noticed that Johnson was getting ready to leave.

“Hey! Wait! You guys can’t do this. Tell the Minister to come back. I need to talk to him.”

“Sorry, kid. No can do. My shifts over and I’m going home. As I understand it, the Minister will be around tomorrow to explain some things to you. Get some sleep, kid.” Johnson almost had the door shut when Harry made a grab for it. Johnson quickly pushed him back into the room and quickly slammed the door shut and locked it.

Harry quickly ran to the door and started pounding on it. “You were supposed to leave food! Johnson!” Harry kept hitting on the door, but it did little good banging on a solid wooden door. Harry’s plea for food had little effect on the man, as well. Not that he would have been able to eat anyway.

Harry was now even more reluctant to sit on the mattress. He no longer has his own clothes to act as a barrier between himself and the disgusting bed. He doubted that the thin nightgown he wore would offer much protection from whatever was growing or festering in the damp cotton mattress.

Holding his gown down tight, he adjusted himself on the floor. He knew he needed to get some sleep if he wanted to stand a chance of facing Scrimgeour in the morning. With an aching nose that he knew was probably broken, Harry leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. His last thought before sleep took him was that he was totally fucked. It was this same thought that came to mind every single time he awoke during the night.