George Weasley, his head covered by a small, dirty sack, sat calmly in a rickety boat, listening to the steady splash of water from the oarsman. Beside him slumped an exhausted but in a good mood, Lee Jordan.

He shares his friend’s uplifted mood. After all, their fate in his plan has finally paid off.

For days, they have been transferred from one concentration camp to another, taking the tortures with as much dignity as they could muster, closing their eyes as other captives as murdered in front of them, as women were degraded and young ones brutalized. They plowed on, trusting in their plan. At night when they are finally thrown back into their cell all bloody and battered, Lee, despite the exhaustion, would sneakily broadcast his Potter Watch radio show, trying to give the masses a sense of hope amidst the growing darkness of the Dark Regime, trying to instill in them that there is still much to fight for. Lee always said that it is important that the people remember not the tragedy of Harry’s death but the lesson of what he was fighting for: a better future free of persecution and hatred.

George knows better though. The Potter Watch is all that has kept Lee Jordan plodding on despite the torture they experienced and the death they witnessed. It was all that made him strong as they are surrounded by darkness and suffering. Lee Jordan stays strong by instilling strength and faith in others.

George Weasley has a different sort of flame burning within him though. All his life his parents have thought him that there is only one thing important in this lifetime: family. Now, in this era of darkness, his family has been scattered. Yet despite their separation, he knows their family values remain strong. Bill Weasley in his own is trying to keep a low profile, protecting his wife and daughter, hoping for better times. Ron is out there, doing what is necessary to fight for a future. His mother is on the run, hoping to survive to see them again. His father, forced to the extreme, has sacrificed too much already for their family to be complete again. He believes the missing Charlie is doing no less.

He will do the same for his family.

They have already lost Fred and Harry. The Weasley will not lose anyone again. Not if he could help it.

No matter the hardship, no matter the pain he had to endure, he will find his sister, Ginny.

And today, what they were waiting for finally came. By order of the Dark Lord, he and Lee are to spend their remaining days of their so-called sorry life in a concentration camp none has heard of.

He knew it when death eaters, actual death eaters and not those pretentious ones that the regime’s employ, came at the quiet of the night and pulled them out of their cells.

He saw it in the swagger of these death eaters, the way their previous jailer looked at them as they were escorted out of their last concentration camp. It was in their gleeful eyes and mocking laughter. He and Lee have done it. They had pissed the Dark Lord badly enough for them to be given the special treatment. All those camps before were nothing but just the death eaters’ attempt to soften them up before the big reveal.

George cackled to himself as the sack on her head was haphazardly removed. He looked around, blinking his dark-soaked eyes, to see Lee Jordan doing the same. It was already night time and a full moon hovered above them. They were in the middle of the ocean. The boat kept bobbing up and down from the steady wave. In front of them a fortress island stood, illuminated by the moon. He calls it a fortress since its entirety was walled off. He could see murals of suffering muggles and half-breeds carved on the huge, tall wall. George gave an uncontrolled shudder when he saw the thick fog hovering around the island. In it, he could see, shadows floating.

“Dementors…” Lee finally murmured as he too stared into where they are destined to stay at least until they find Ginny, that is if George’s plan was right. “I hope this works, George…”

They glanced at each other when the sound of a dozen baying wolf filled the air.

“Dementors, werewolves and vampires would be the least of your worry when you get inside the Carcel, you sorry asses of wizards!” One of their death eaters escort smirked. “It is where all those who are insane enough to oppose the Dark Lord ends up. This is where our tour stops and that is where you are going to live the rest of your miserable life, no matter how short it will be.”

Laughingly, another death eater removed their bindings.

“There are no guards within that island. There is only one rule: survival of the fittest! You get to decide how you are to stay there and what you will do survive. The Dark Lord is not without compassion. Food and money will be sent inside from time to time.” The death eater laughed. “Oh you get to keep your wands by the way.”

George and Lee stared at each other as both of them are handed a wand. Smiles slowly crept into their lips.

“Wrong move, bucko…” George was about to raise his wand when he felt the all too familiar tugging on his navel.

“I think we’d been had, George…” Lee muttered before he was pulled into a small, dark hole by the portkey.

“Good riddance.” The death eater smirked as the two disappeared, carried by their wand that has been turned into a portkey. “They probably be dead before the nights over.”


George and Lee stumbled into a bloody war. Curses were flying everywhere. Two factions, one in green and one in red tattered robes were dueling as if it is their last day. Only George’s quidditch’s skills saved them from all the curses flying around. As soon as he got his bearing, he tackled Lee to the ground, barely being missed an inch by a green curse.

“That was close, buddy.” George muttered as he and Lee crawled away from the fighting until they found a huge boulder to hide into. “That killing curse almost got us.”

“What the heck is happening?” Lee shouted over the din. “And I don’t think we are the only one watching this.” Lee raised a brow toward their left.

“Looks to me like there’s a tribal war here with spectators and all.” George smirked as he peaked from his hiding place. A dozen wizard and witches are fighting it out in a large melee-type duel. Already, the ground is littered with dead bodies and fallen trees. Nearby, a lone hut was burning to the ground. “So, this is where all the worst of the Dark Lord’s enemy is sent to: to fight to survive!”

“This is a big island and with a lot of dueling witches and wizard, I doubt we will find her…It will be like looking for a pin in a haystack.”

George was about to retort when a pop sounded off from their right. Whirling with their wands pointed at the new comer, they gasped and stared in shock to the familiar visage of Oliver Wood.

“I’d recognized that freckled face anywhere.” Oliver laughed before pulling them into a hug. “Not what are you two doing here? Me and a couple buddies where watching this slugfest when you two appeared out of nowhere.”

“Well, George here has this awful idea…” Lee started.

“We pissed the Dark Lord hard enough to land a gig here.” George shrugged. He was smiling and jovial yet Lee noticed the alertness never left his eyes. George was covertly looking around, glancing sharply at Wood. “What did you do to be here?”

“Oh, I wore shirt printed with Harry’s face during one of my quidditch game. That got his attention.” Oliver Wood smirked as he kept glancing at the fight on the clearing. “Oh and you can mention his name here: Voldemort. The taboo does not apply here. Seamus would be glad to see you both.”

“Seamus is here?” Lee asked.

“Yup. He got a job at the Ministry after he signed in with the regime. He used that job to spell all portrait in the atrium to sing ‘Long Live Harry Potter’ every time some with a dark mark passes by…got himself beaten to a pulp before he was thrown here…damn…the Red tribe is losing. I got a bagful of sickles bet on them.”

“Is that your sport here?” George asked, glancing back at the melee where the so-called Red tribe is now down to three. Now that he got a chance to scrutinize them, one of the remaining Red tribe looks familiar.

“Did they mention the only rule in this place?” Oliver asked. “It is survival of the fittest. The whole island is walled off. We can’t apparate out or use a portkey to escape. Months ago someone was stupid enough to try to use broom to fly out of here but there is a defensive dome-like shield up there…fries anyone touching it. You could try to climb up that wall but beyond it…I’m sure you’ve seen the dementors spawning everywhere.”

“Who is in charge?” George asked as another one of the Red tribe is taken down. The familiar one, though old is on a roll though. Already, he had taken three of their attackers.

“No one and everyone.” Oliver shrugged. “From time to time, Voldemort would appear at the center of the island. Everyone is expected to be there when he does so but for the rest of the time, we all struggle to remain on top. You see, money and food packages are apparated through out of the island. It is a scheduled drop so that’s the time when this island comes to life. If your team…tribe… is strong enough them you have the higher chance to get more food and money. That’s when we fight to survive.”

“And the rest of the time?” Lee asked. With a surreptitious glance from George, he had been slowly trying to position himself to Oliver’s right, trying to keep the former Gryffindor captain in between them.

“Life goes on. We use the money we have to buy foods from the stronger tribes…if we don’t have enough we steal them. And from time to time we get to have this.” Oliver gestured his hand at the fighting. Only the familiar looking Red tribe member remains but he had already managed to trim down his opponents to three. “One tribe gets cocky enough to challenge another. If they win, they get all the loser tribe’s possession: money, food, able wizards left standing and their women…and there are so few of them here.”

“Thanks for the info, bro but…”

“Oh, don’t you even think of trying it, George.” Oliver smirked. “I did not come here alone and it would be a shame to hurt you two, being former schoolmates and all. Besides, we don’t need to fight. You two are newcomers. Every tribe is looking for newcomers. We’d welcome you in ours.”

“What if we don’t want to join yours?” George asked. He noticed Oliver nodded at someone. Immediately, two wizards appeared behind the Red tribe’s remaining two wizards. Before the combatants could react, it was over. All that was left standing was the familiar looking red tribe member who raised his hands in surrender as the two newcomers pointed their wand at him.

“Come on, I already lost a bag of sickle by interfering but I am hoping to recruit this guy to my tribe, making the lost worthwhile.” Oliver laughed before walking toward the fighting field. George nodded at Lee before they followed him.

“Take off your hood, guys. You looked like bloody death eaters.” Oliver Wood smirked as Seamus Finnigan and Mundungus Fletcher revealed themselves. “Guys, we got some newcomers here!”

“George, Lee!” Seamus hooted before running to the two, giving them a big hug.

“I’d give you a hug myself but I couldn’t run fast enough on the account one of my leg is fake.” Mundungus smirked as he kept pointing his wand at the Red Tribe.

“Are they joining? Man, she’d fume like a hornet’s nest if she found out about this.” Seamus laughed.

“They are undecided as of now.” Oliver Wood turned to the Red tribe. “For an old man, you fight very well. We could use your skill in our group.”

“I’d join you if they do.” The old man shrugged as he tried to catch his breath. “It would be good to see her in a pickle. How are you, George?”

“Elphias? Elphias Dodge?” As soon as he heard the voice, George has instantly recognized the man. He is an old family friend. He was invited to Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He is also a loyal supporter of the Dumbledore. “Don’t tell me, you didn’t stop sprouting Dumbledore’s anecdote even after Voldemort took over?”

“Why should I?” Elphias smiled as he finally sat down to rest. “So are you joining this bunch?”

“Why should we? And who the heck is this ‘she’ that you’d been talking about?” George asked.

Oliver and Seamus glanced at each other warily.

“We can’t mention her name.” Mundungus muttered. “Somehow, she and her ilk managed to put a taboo on it. Every time someone mentions it, her minions appear out of nowhere and you wouldn’t want to be at the opposite end of their wands. She’s bad stuff and she leads the strongest tribe in this forsaken island. In fact they are so strong that they have taken over the center of the island. Ever since then, we haven’t heard from Voldemort.”

“So in here we could say Voldy’s name but we have a new She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?” George asked

“Yup but we don’t call her that.” Oliver said cautiously. “We call her Spitfire because well, the moniker says it all.”

“Is she anyone we know?” George asked.

Mundungus spit puss at the ground before he replied.

“She’s your bloody sister.”



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