Two sets of footsteps clopped between the cold, shiny walls as their owners made their way through the maze-like corridors. The dank clawed at Harry’s throat, and he could have sworn he glimpsed something scuttling just beyond the edge of the torchlight.

"Bet you never saw happening while you were plotting safely back in Hogwarts," he muttered, only half to himself.

"Shut up," came the furtive answer. Harry wasn’t at all surprised Malfoy sounded about as scared as Harry felt. This was the boy who had screamed and run the second he saw Voldemort feasting on the unicorn... though that had been back in their first year and Harry had hoped he might have grown out of being a ‘boasting coward’ by now. He really needed someone vaguely reliable around now.

He glanced at the other boy’s impeccable hair out of the corner of his eye. Then again, ‘Malfoy’ did seem to be a synonym for ‘double-crosser’, so it was probably just as well he was useless. Maybe he could accidently set fire to that perfectly coifed head... it was annoying shiny. And it would be something to distract him from the vague terror careening around his gut.

"I said shut up!" Malfoy almost looked like he was going to stop and face Harry, but the torch above their heads had already guttered and gone out, leaving them hurrying for the next one. "Don’t you think I’ve already tried? Believe me, it was the first thing I did when we arrived... here... and there is no way I want to be stuck in someone’s cellar with you!"

Harry felt an angry heat creeping onto his face and tried to shrug it off, shooting the other boy a look. "You still haven’t told me why you don’t know where we are, or what was going to happen once you got me here."

Harry wasn’t sure but he thought Malfoy had rolled his eyes at that. "Yeah, like my Father tells me everything; sometimes I just have to do as he says and belt up, or else. I don’t know why you’re getting so high and mighty; I bet there are hundreds of things ‘your Dad’ hasn’t told you."

Harry was a second too late covering his frown of confusion over that. Sure, adults always had secrets; that was none of Harry’s business, so why was Malfoy looking so superior about it? As if on cue, the other boy’s jaw dropped and his eyes began to shine with a manic kind of glee. Harry barely had time to think Uh oh before Malfoy was speaking again.

"You mean he hasn’t actually told you? After all that boasting about ‘My Dad’, I could have sworn he would have–! Oh, this is priceless!"

The grin Harry received was so much like a shark’s that he felt goosebumps starting to crawl up his spine. Whatever Malfoy had to say was not going to be good...

"Your precious Dad used to be a Death Eater; he’s just as despised by the Ministry as mine, if not more so," Malfoy purred as if the words were made of gold and honey.

Harry felt this made his intelligent response of "Huh?" even more unimpressive.

Some of the light went out of Malfoy’s eyes. "‘Death Eaters’? As in– Gah! Don’t they teach you Muggle-raised lot anything these days?"

"Apparently not," Harry muttered drily, trying to think of a way to derail the conversion before he heard something he was sure he would not like.

It didn’t work. Malfoy leant in again, his malicious composure regained. "The Death Eaters were You-Know-Who’s most loyal followers back in the day. Special people he Marked as his own and relied upon to do his bidding. Honestly, Snape, did you really think the darkest wizard of our age became as feared as he did on his own?"

Through the ringing of his ears, Harry heard Malfoy snicker as he leaned away. Actually... that’s exactly what I thought. How naive of him. Sure, Harry had known that Voldemort had had supporters the first time around, but he hadn’t actually known. Hadn’t known of the possibility that his own father might have been– "You’re... lying," he gritted out, enjoying the temporary flash of fear in the other boy’s eyes. His magic felt more accessible now than it had in months, all it would take was a little more pressure and–

"It’s Merlin’s own truth, Snape. Believe it or not if you will, but why not ask you Daddy-dear to roll up his left sleeve the next time you see him and see what he says to that?"

Harry went silent, a cold sickness resonating through him. Of course, Malfoy was just inventing a malicious lie to make Harry feel unsettled, to make Malfoy feel better about having trapped them in this mess.

But.

A brighter light up ahead gave the opportunity he’d been desperate for to stop thinking about it. His voice creaked as he spoke, like old leather that had been left in the sun too long, "It looks like we’ve arrived."

An enormous snake lay coiled beside the entryway of the larger chamber ahead, its tongue flickering as if already imagining what they tasted like, and Harry began to realise that he was in a lot more trouble than he’d originally imagined.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped past it, and out into the light of the chamber beyond. Something told him that – like the Basilisk – this particular snake would take a fierce joy in killing him. Malfoy made a noise like a strangled canary beside him and Harry pretended he couldn’t feel the other boy’s fingers digging into the sleeve of his robes. He had much larger things to worry about. Besides, other people’s fear had always made him feel braver.

He still had to breathe deeply for a little while longer before he could force words through his constricted vocals chords. "Do you think that’s what we’re here for?" he asked, raising a surprisingly steady hand to point at a marble plinth.

On top of it was a shroud, obscuring what was beneath it in folds of velvet fabric. For some reason, this made Harry want to run more than anything else he had encountered so far.

"What is it?" Malfoy had already stepped forward, right hand outstretched to pull the fabric away.

"I… I don’t think we should touch it." Sickening dread was tightening Harry’s stomach in a way that it had only done a couple of times before. And suddenly Harry knew what lay beneath the covering. "No! Malfoy, don’t touch it!"

But it was too late. The cloth had already fallen away to reveal a large, crystal orb as transparent as the ones Trelawney used in Divination. For an eternal second nothing happened.

Malfoy turned back to Harry and sneered. "See? It’s just an old crystal ball. No need to get your knickers in a twist, Potter."

And behind his back, a red glow began to spread through the centre of the globe, growing until it was filling it entirely. Malfoy turned back and let out a squeak, jumping back in an attempt to hide behind Harry once more, and for an impossible moment, Harry was certain he could see red eyes staring out at him from the centre.

Then the red light vanished as if it had never been.

"What… What…?" Malfoy croaked, but Harry didn’t move. That couldn’t be all, something else always happened…

"Ah, dear Harry, we meet in person again."

Harry turned and felt himself go numb with fear, for there, blocking the way they had come was…

"Voldemort." Harry was quite impressed with the way his voice didn’t shake. Maybe he was so far out the other side of fear, it didn’t matter anymore. Or maybe because the boy at his elbow had begun to shake. Or maybe he still had the slightest hope they may be able to get out of this.

For whatever reason, Harry found the strength not to step back from the face of his greatest foe.

"Harry, Harry. I’m so glad you remember me." The… creature’s – for surely with its snake-like features and slitted, red eyes, it could be nothing else – face stretched into a parody of a smile that made him want to retch. A thin red cord ran from the thing’s belly to the centre of the orb; it twisted and squirmed in a way that made Harry want to step away very quickly, but he held his ground.

"I can’t say I feel the same way about you," he managed to reply stiffly. Malfoy moaned and attempted to make himself even smaller – as if that would protect him from the side effects of Harry’s bravado – but Voldemort only laughed.

"Yes, I can see you haven’t changed a bit since you were eleven – at least inwardly." Voldemort tilted his head to one side and regarded him in a way that made Harry’s skin crawl. "I see I’m going to have to have a word with one of my servants about self-restraint when it comes to pretty Mudbloods."

For the first time, hot rage boiled up within Harry and he welcomed it like an old friend. "Don’t you dare talk about my Mum like that! You aren’t worthy to kiss the ground she walks on."

Voldemort chuckled; an earthy, bubbling hiss. "I’m afraid you will be seeing her sooner than I, Harry." He cocked his head at the shaking form of Malfoy for the first time, even as he began to raise one withered, white hand. "Pity you haven’t got more backbone, child, or I might have been tempted to keep you. As it is…" The hand opened, like a white, petrified spider.

Harry didn’t even stop to think. He turned and shoved the orb off its pedestal – the thing burned his hands, turning the palms bright red, even as a secondary shock seared across his scar.

Then hands were grabbing his arm and tugging. A voice hissed in his ear, "Come on! Come on!" and Harry only turned once to spare the sphere one last glance. It was rolling across the floor, a sizable crack down one side, while beside it Voldemort flickered in and out of existence, hissing in pain. The large snake guarding the entrance rose up, fangs exposed, and that decided it for Harry.

He gave in to the hands tugging upon him and ran.

Behind him he heard the damaged wizard letting out a series of deep, guttural sounds that were not quite words, followed by a high-pitched shriek of "Find him! Kill him! Kill him!" A crackle of fire sounded behind him, quickly turning into a roaring inferno.

Malfoy let out a fearful whimper and tugged him down one of the pitch-black corridors that branched off the main one. Both boys sprinted, now headless of the dark, clutching at each other’s robes and scrabbling at the walls for other turnings off.

"What was… What?" Harry managed to gasp out.

"Fiendfyre," Malfoy hissed, his fear temporarily blotted out by pure survival instinct. "They’re trapped spirits of demons chained to the element of fire. They will not stop chasing us until we’ve been destroyed. Or until someone’s destroyed them."

"Why– are we running then?"

"Are you… completely insane, Potter?! Do you want to stand there while some evil spirit devours you?"

"I just meant – can’t we use Aguamenti?"

"Don’t be ridiculous; that evaporates before it touches them. Only a wizard highly skilled in Necromancy, Elemental control and wandless magic can stop one of them, let alone a whole pack like He’s summoned."

They slowed as the roaring of fire became muffled; the passage they were in was blissfully pitch-black.

Harry heaved air into his lungs while he still had the chance. "So we just keep running?"

A shifting of fabric implied that Malfoy had just nodded. "Until we can’t–"

"Until we find a way out," Harry interrupted firmly. "There has to be one around here somewhere."

Malfoy gave a derisive snort. "That’s just it. I think I’ve worked out where we are; below the Ministry of Magic there are countless vaults that were sealed away centuries ago. There’s no lore on it, but I’m assuming it was because some leader became greedy in his old age and decided that if he couldn’t have the wealth down here, then no one could. If I’m right about this… we’re trapped."

"Well He found a way in didn’t he?" Harry pointless jerked his thumb at the corridor behind them. "And if he found a way in, then his followers did too, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to follow his orders. And if that’s the case, then there has to be a way out, yeah?"

Malfoy’s mouth curved slightly in a smile. "Yeah."

Harry smiled back and took a moment to appreciate how his eyes seemed to be adjusting to the dark… and froze. "Malfoy… Does it seem a little lighter in here than it was before?"

Malfoy’s eyes widened – yep, definitely could see him clearer, and was the background roaring sound getting just that little bit louder?

They both sucked in a breath. "Run – they’ve found our trail!" Later, Harry could never quite recall which one of them had said it.

The next moments seemed to stretch to eternity. Once again, they were running wildly, completely blind, knowing that the things chasing them were getting ever closer. Turns and doubling-back and yet more side-turns blurred into one another until Harry was well and truly lost. Not that it mattered anymore either. The only thing that mattered was how the faint flickering light was now bright enough to see the contorted fear on his companion’s face in explicit detail.

And then, gloriously, an idea began to form.

"This way!" Harry grabbed his companion’s arm and suddenly they were standing in a storage room with no other way out.

Predictably, Malfoy tried to pull away. "Are you crazy? What are you–"

"Shh! See this?" Harry reached into a deep pocket and pulled out Hermione’s bell. "You said they were demons; well, what are demons, but trapped spirits? Oh, don’t look at me like that! I do listen sometimes in class."

Malfoy sneered and Harry forced himself not to roll his eyes at the default setting. "Maybe so, Potter, but that pathetic thing is a training bell. It won’t do anything to them! We have to go. Now."

"Dumbledore’s been teaching me wandless magic," Harry rushed out as his gaze was drawn by the ever increasing light. "So, that’s two of what you’ve mentioned; it should be enough to hold them off just for another head start. I’ve always worked best under pressure, and I know it’s hard, but you’re just going to have to trust me…"

Malfoy cut him off with a moan, pale grey eyes fixed on the doorway behind Harry, who quickly spun around because if they’d run out of time…

They hadn’t.

However, the corridor outside was now bright enough to be counted as naturally lit, so Harry only had one chance at this.

He closed his eyes tight and concentrated hard on the bell in front of him, reaching down deep to that fiery core of magic, trying to remember what it had been like that summer. How effortless it had been. "Please. Please."

And then… a flicker of something – of otherness – and the weirdest sensation of not being alone in his own head. "S-shadow?" No answer came, but the surge of power bolstered his magic and shot straight through into the bell, making it heavier in his shaking hands. Would it work against the Fiendfyre? Well, he would certainly find out one way or another in a minute.

He opened his eyes and for a second, he almost swore he could see the flicker of someone else’s eyes in his reflection on the stone wall. Then they were gone and Harry was painfully brought back to the moment when a spout of flame licked through the archway in front.

He braced himself and stood up straight. Please work, please work, please work…

An ugly face made up of flame and menacing teeth peered around the doorway, then another, and another until Harry stopped counting them, so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. Into the room they crept; now their prey was in sight, they no longer had to hurry. Flames whip-corded around their bodies and low growls came from the roar of the fire itself.

Harry waited and slowly counted to five, uncaring of Malfoy’s bony fingers clenching his left arm. A strange calmness spread through him. Then, with a prayer that he truly remembered the correct way to ring the bell, he flicked his wrist through the series of movements as fluidly as possible, and let the full-throated cry of the bell echo off the walls.

The effect was instantaneous; the monsters howled and writhed as their forms seemed to go almost transparent. The terrible heat from their fire lessened and Harry suddenly found the entrance clear. He rang the bell a second time – this one even louder than the first – pulled on Malfoy’s arm and sprinted.

"Come on, come on!"

Their renewed adrenaline and panic carried them a long way into the pitch black silence, their ears straining to listen for the tell-tale rush of fire over the slapping of their footsteps.

And then… "I have an idea!" Malfoy’s arm tried to drag its way out of his grip.

"What?" Harry gasped out, refusing to slow down or let go.

"These tunnels… They might be abandoned now… But they were once part of… Ministry workings… Which means… Floo network!"

Malfoy was definitely tiring – so was Harry for that matter – so they really needed a solution soon.

"I thought you said – sealed off!"

"Yes! But not Floo… In that time, only used by… richest… aristocrats… Wasn’t sealed. Don’t you pay attention in History?"

"What? No!" But… that was quite an idea. "Light your wand! We need light to find a fireplace."

"L-lumos."

Light suddenly bathed their red, sweaty faces and they froze, almost expecting to be ambushed by fire. Nothing happened.

Yet, anyway.

Without a word, they jogged on, peering into doorways and taking turns down other corridors at random. Harry could hear Malfoy whispering under his breath, "Please, be here. Please, you have to be here." Harry added his own silent pleas to this mantra; his head was starting to swim and there was no way he could run very much further, demon fire or not.

A flicker of his reflection in the stone-work caught his eye just as he was about to run past another corridor, but what he saw down there made him skid to a halt. "There! There! We’re saved!"

His reflection… winked. There was no other way to describe it, unless his exhausted mind was playing tricks on him. Whatever the reason, Harry leaned his hand against the cold marble and whispered a soft, "Thank you, Shadow." He would have time to think about the implications later, when he was safely back at Hogwarts…

But Malfoy was regarding the fireplace with a sickly expression.

"What? What is it now?"

"F-floo powder," the other boy croaked. "We. We need Floo powder." He slumped and looked back the way they’d come. "We’re going to die down here. We’re really going to die and it’s all my fault. And, and my stupid Father’s!"

Soft, almost hysterical giggles bubbled up from his throat. He’d been called lucky before, but this… this was almost ridiculous. After all, how could he have possibly known that his thievery would one day save his life?

They weren’t out of the woods yet, but… "C’mere. Look." He swung the pouch in front of Malfoy’s astounded face. "Potter’s prepared. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Let’s get out of here, so we can go back to hating each other, yeah?"

The other boy nodded shakily and spat an Incendio at the fireplace. Both of them flinched a little at the crackling flames.

Malfoy sneered uncertainly and then conjured a length of rope, knotting it securely around his waist. "That’s a really small amount. We’re going to have a rough trip even without having to hang on."

Harry nodded, tied his own end off and took a deep breath. With a little toss, the bag ended up in the flames, immediately igniting and flaring green. Hurriedly stepping into the tickling heat, Harry grabbed Malfoy’s shoulder in a steel-like grip and calmly spoke the words, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

He almost cried in relief when the flames whisked them away.

oooOOOooo

Shadow sat down slowly and shakily, allowing the ‘window’ in front of him to fade from his mind’s eye. Using magic to locate the portals through to the ‘real’ world was exhausting work that required intense concentration. Actually getting one to appear required an almost stupid amount of exertion.

He closed his eyes and sighed. But it had been worth it. So worth it. He’d found the right universe and he’d found Harry; luckily just in time to save his life apparently. But what now? He could only manage the faintest of connections and only through really thick surfaces. There was no way he’d be able to break through several feet of marble, and judging by the scenes playing out on the other side, he certainly didn’t want to try there. He’d have to start searching again as soon as he’d rested and regained his strength.

He allowed his mind to wander back to when he’d first located the portal; the excitement, the difficulties getting it to allow him to see through it, and then…

Events were pretty much a blur of fear after that. And panic; don’t forget the panic. But still… Shadow opened his eyes and stared up. Harry was safe – for now – and Shadow had yet another lead in his seemingly endless mission to get back home.

So what if Voldemort now knew of Shadow’s existence? So what if his fury would be terrible once he found that Harry had escaped? Shadow shuddered and slowly pulled himself to his feet. This, more than anything was a reason to make his way back – and quickly.