Author's Notes: Any word in bold will be spells from Imperator Atrum-Spells & Creatures
Thirty-six long years, stuck in this dismal prison cell. Having not seen the light in years, nor the sound of other people's voices. All I've seen, felt or sensed are the remaining Dementors. They play back the entire farce of a trial, show me where I went wrong in my choices of friends. It's a pity… My Friends will soon find out what a son of a Marauder Potter, a son of Black and Lupin can and will do.
Who in their right mind would believe that I would have killed the Mundanes I live with? When I'd rather go my own way then have to deal with the magic-phobic mundanes. Sure I might of tortured them with magic, making them fear for their safety, but I would never have killed them.
I wonder if James would be proud of me? I am the first Potter ever to be betrayed and sent to prison innocent of all charges. I know Sirius and Remus would of never allowed me to be sent to prison. I truly hate the Unspeakables. Remy is dead at their hands and Siri had been dead for two years before hand.
I wonder what the sheep of the wizarding world would do when they realize I am anything but light? At the end of fourth year, I began to realize I was being played a fool. My friends, were anything but. They've been spying on me since second year on the orders of Dumbledore. They've been paid from the Potter Trust vault. Effectively I've been paying them. The people of the wizarding world are idiots. Placing their lives in the hand on an untrained teen in hopes he can defeat the darkest of dark lords since Salazar Slytherin.
The goblins are tricky little buggers, but they won't outright lie to you. Somehow many wizards have forgotten that the Goblins are Earth dwellers. Bloody right scared me when they tunneled into my dank prison. In that moment of truth, I realized what the wards of the Prison are. They use the magic of the cellmates to fuel the wards. But they instinctively know if the person within are guilty of the charges or not. If the person isn't guilty of what they are thrown in here for, the wards will not touch them. They also keep the dementors away, when needed.
These wards know me, they allow me to use magic, wandless magic. They've helped me keep my sanity, kept me fed by bringing me fresh food and clean water from the stores. They've brought me books, nothing like anything I've read. As of this moment I am the only true Elementalist. I am one of the few Necromancers living in England. I'm also one of very few wizards who have a magical animal as an Animagus. Well I should say three forms.
My first form is a Kitsune Fox. Which allows me better control over the elements. In the fox form, I am just a tad bit bigger then a small dog. When I am in the Kitsune demon aspect, I stand about five feet tall with six tails. Ears on the top of my head and claw-like nails.
My second form is a Basilisk. Which is truly impressive because the shed skin makes good covering during these cold nights. I also have two aspects of the snake. That is of the snake it'self with killing eyes. Plus the humanoid version of the snake, with the ability to turn on and off the killing eyes. Scales cover the most of my chest and stomach. The upper part of my body is human shaped while the lower half is snake formed.
My third and final form is a Midnight Phoenix. Which is truly Brill because I am able to pass these wards and go anywhere I want. In the Phoenix form, I have pitch black feathers with a streak of white on my forehead in the shape of my accursed scar. In the humanoid version, I have wings that are capable of sustaining flight, feathers on my head instead of hair. In both forms I am capable to creating blasts of flames and lightning.
I learned of the lies, the manipulations and trickery that my friends had done. Too bad for them that the Goblin nation is a nation unto it's self. Lucky for me or my vaults would have been wiped out clean by the Weasley family. Well except for Bill, Charlie and the twins, they are and always had been on my side.
I wonder if they would follow me to the deepest pits of hell? Bill always told me that the Weasley family owed me a debt none of them would ever consider betraying. Well the exception proved to be the Non -Weasley's of that family. Arthur would be rolling in his grave to find out what four of his family have done.
Tonight I will do the impossible. Magic can not be worked with Azkaban, even with all the dampeners, or if the wards like you enough to allow you to use magic. Unless you don't care of the price to be paid when overwhelming the wards. It's death or being a squib. I'd rather be a squib and free then stuck in this hellhole any longer.
Would you believe that the goblins have rituals? Rituals to boost your magic, your life span or even to go back into time? For a price they taught me these rituals, which border on dark. But I will pay the price in my freedom.
Magic is magic and those who are to weak to use it. I will forgo the spiel that the headmaster had used at my farce of a trial. I am my own person now and the fools who thought they were my friends will soon find out who's the apex predator.
Are you afraid of the dark?
The explosion that rocked the Island prison of Azkaban could be seen for miles away. Upon closer inspection of the prison, the lower cells which housed the more dangerous of criminals was gone. All thirty some prisoners had been buried under nine tons of rubble. Which in many minds was a good thing, for they would not need to feed the dangerous wizards and witches.
Cleaning up the aftermath, the Aurors came to a chilling realization. Prisoner X-13 was gone. His body wasn't under the rubble, nor there was any readings of him being on the island. Head Auror Ronald Weasley froze at the press of a wand to the back of his neck. Cool, a press of stone against his neck. Effectively freezing him in place. For wizards who used stone wands were impossibly dangerous and a ticking time bomb. Stone wands users are extremely powerful to allow their magic to flow through an object that is magical-resistant. As he swallowed, allowing his wand to fall from his fingers.
"Drop it Thomas, or I will blow your friend's brains out." Hearing the familiar, yet chilly tones of the one wizard who he had thought been on the light. The wizard who he knew his sister still craved and desired. Even though he had been in this dank island fortress for so many years. In Ginny's mind because Harry had saved her in the chambers, that made him her own.
"Prisoner X-13," He said hearing Dean swear and drop his wand. It jumped from the ground. Ron felt a second wand press to his head. Feeling the rancid breath of the prisoner on the back of his neck. The wands pressed harder into the base of his skull.
"How fast you dropped our friendship Weasel. Believe me my vaults are not ripe for the taking."
Turning to eye the gaunt, wild-haired and sane looking man. A feral smile cross his face as Prisoner X-13 pointed both wands skywards. Hissing escaped him. Ron noted with a wide-eyed horror, the pentagram that they stood it. The place reeked on magic, of old and wild magic. Potter glanced up with a feral grin before starting the incantation. While his Latin is rusty, Ron got a few words out of it. His magic was the sacrifice for the portal.
Turning his head towards Dean, Ron gave one brief nod. Causing his partner to reach up and grip the phoenix pendant on his collar. It is an emergency port-key. Potter glanced up, green eyes glowing.
"Run little sheep, because Death is a hunting."
Dean disappeared in a swirl of lights. Turning his attention back to Potter, Ron saw the man he once called his friend. The tattered remains of his prison robe hung around the gaunt frame. He didn't look any worse then the remains they had unburied. It looked like someone had been feeding him in order to stave off the worst of the malnutrition.
Green eyes glanced skyward, drawing something from the tattered remains. Ron saw a curious length of metal. Pressing the four inch piece of metal to the pentagram, Potter hissed out "Ölüm sihirli, aramak esaret."
With a resounding boom which is louder then the blast that had taken down the prison, the pair of wizards in the pentagram disappeared in a burst of flames and light. When it died down, only the charred remains of what remained of Ronald Bilius Weasley.
The other wizard, he was gone. Gone from this world. A world that screamed from the loss of most of the power. In a year, the world had died. Nothing survived the nuclear winter.