Harry Potter: Beneath The Skin

Disclaimer:

Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

I own nothing but the original characters I make.

"Dialogue"

'Thoughts'

-Author notes-

Chapter 07: Exploring Around

The memories from the boy had told him a lot of useful things, but there was still much more to discover.

He checked all the pockets in his robes and pants.

'No wand… he must have lost it before he died.' The memories from the last encounter that the boy had with the Dark Lord were somewhat fragmented and hard to make sense of.

But he could put together that he had been ambushed by some wizards and killed with a powerful curse.

'Well, it's not like I am completely defenseless without a wand.' Harry lifted his hands and focused on channeling his magic.

It felt strange, just like moving his limbs, but he knew it was working at least.

'Aguamenti.' A small sphere made of water was conjured in front of him and remained floating in the air, just as he intended to do.

Simple spells like this one could be created without the use of a magical focus, but for his most advanced magic, he was going to need to procure one.

'I left a few inside my secret treasury. But it's been so long that who knows if everything is still where I left it…'

He moved his face closer to the water and began to drink. Once he had his fill, he used the remaining water to clean his face and refresh himself a bit.

"Ah..." His throat felt much better now. "S-speak... I... can s-speak." It was somewhat uncomfortable, but his ability to speak had been regained at least.

One step at a time. He was resurrected after five hundred years; a short period of adaptation was going to be expected until he felt back at full power.

Not to mention, he was now in the body of a teenager, whose magic was yet to completely mature.

One of the dementors approached and hovered in front of him.

Harry smiled gently. "I am fine now. No need to concern yourself. You can go away for now. I will call you if I need you."

The dementors understood his words and flew away in an immediate manner.

Harry went to the latch door and opened it up before taking a peek at the floor below.

According to the boy's memories, his beautiful home was now a prison for wizards and witches, and it was run by the Ministry of Magic.

His godfather, Sirius, had spent a decade locked up in this prison and spoke to him about the horrors of this place.

This brought a grin to his face. As much as he hated the fact that someone else was using his property, at least they were using it to inflict suffering onto others, which was one of the intended purposes of the Azkaban Fortress.

As soon as he reached the floor beneath, he found himself staring at three long corridors, each one of them had thirty-three cells on both sides.

'This looks the same.' Harry had created this fortress with the number three in mind. This was one of the magical numbers, and there was power in it.

Azkaban has a triangular shape, three sides, three floors with thirty-three cells on each floor.

During his previous life as Ekrizdis Skarvok, he often ventured outside, took humans from their villages, and brought them here, where they would be locked in these cells.

The humans would later on be used for his experiments and rituals. At some point, he had almost filled the entire three floors.

If he concentrated, he could still hear their screams and cries filling these corridors.

'Good times.'

Below that, there were three more levels, which at the time were used as his living quarters, as well as working and training areas.

Three small subterranean levels were beneath those. Although only two of them were easily accessible. The last one is where he kept hidden his most precious possessions.

And that's exactly where he needed to go right now.

'This is not going to be easy.' He had no idea how many people were guarding this place and how skilled they were.

He moved with caution, choosing the best spots to hide while he approached the stairs to the lower level.

No one knew this fortress better than him, so he had an advantage there.

A few minutes passed, and Harry was yet to encounter a single guard. He was already approaching the stairs that led to the living quarters.

At first, he had tried to hide his presence from the prisoners inside the cells. However, he soon realized that none of them were in enough mental shape to notice him.

He recognized the symptoms... these prisoners had been drained by the dementors.

The creatures could do more than just feed on souls. They could also feed on any positive feelings that people could have, as well as their vitality.

This is why they are an excellent tool to keep these prisoners from trying to escape.

Harry was about to peek at the stairs when all of a sudden, he heard voices approaching from below.

He hurried to hide behind a large pillar, away from the light coming from the nearby torch.

Harry spotted two people emerging from the staircase. One witch and one wizard. Both of them looked very young and inexperienced.

"Why do they have to send us? I hate dealing with dementors..." the male one said.

"They sent us because no one else wants to do this job... and we are the newest recruits," the female responded.

"Still... what do you think happened to the dementors? They all left their posts at the same time. That has never happened before, right?"

"How should I know?! I'm new too, remember?" she huffed with annoyance before looking around. "There isn't a single dementor on this floor. Let's go to the higher levels."

"This is bad... if we can't get the dementors to go back and do their job, the prisoners are going to become hard to manage," her partner said.

Harry watched them walk away, moving towards the next set of stairs that would take them up.

An idea came to his mind.

'This may give me an opportunity...' His green eyes shone with pure cruelty.

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