Chapter 1 - Azkaban

Two aurors in red robes entered the great hall, and walked to the Gryffindor table. Harry frowned. Had they found the Heir of Slytherin? In Gryffindor? Then they came down his aisle, and stopped right behind him. Suddenly, sweat sprung up on his spine.

'Mr Potter ?'

He turned around, fear bubbling up in his stomach, and looked up.

'Please put your hands flat on the table, where we can see them, and stand up. Where do you have your wand ?'

Harry almost panicked, but figured he'd best cooperate. He knew he was innocent. They'd figure it out, and he'd be free again.

'M- my back pocket. '

He stood up, his hands on the table. He felt one of the Aurors take his wand from his pocket. He was at their mercy now.

'You are under arrest for the investigation about the self-proclaimed Heir of Slytherin. You're coming with us to the DMLE now.'

One one side, Ron gaped, completely speechless. On the other, Hermione was weakly protesting his innocence, but with an amount of doubt in her voice that cut straight into Harry's heart. He could feel the tears start in the corners of his eyes as his hands were cuffed behind his back. A glance at the head table revealed total silence - and a smug Snape. Did they really believe that Harry was the heir ? If so, Snape'd have been his number 1 target. Not Mrs. Norris, and not Colin Creevey, who was found yesterday. It seemed no professor would speak to his defense. The entire hall was silent, probably from shock. Harry knew he couldn't get a word out. A glance to the Slytherin table showed that Malfoy found it incredibly funny, though. He'd remember that.

After, leaving the castle, he was taken to the entrance gate. One of the Aurors put a rope in Harry's hand behind his back, telling him to hold on it, both of them also grabbing it. Suddenly, he felt a painful jerk behind his navel, and was pulled through a vortex of spinning colors. On arrival of the portkey, he lost his balance, and started falling. Unable to catch himself, he thought he'd fall on his face, but the Aurors held his hands up by his cuffs. This prevented him from breaking his nose, but it did give him an uncomfortable jerk at his arm sockets. He was dragged through a few doors, and pushed into a cell. His arms were freed, at least, but there wasn't much - just a bed and a bucket for his bodily waste. Well, at least it wasn't cold here. He would be in the cell for two weeks, awaiting his trial.

On the day of his trial, he was bound and brought to the courtroom by the same two red-robed aurors. He'd gotten their names - Dawlish and Proudfoot. They weren't exactly gentle with him. Into the room, he was put into a rather uncomfortable wooden chair, and was immediately bound to it with animated iron chains. The aurors took up station behind him. Looking around, he saw a number of witches and mostly wizards in plum-colored robes. On other stands, he saw a number of people from Hogwarts. Hermione. Ron. The other Weasleys. There was a blond girl with straight long hair there he didn't recognize, next to Mrs Weasley. He saw Malfoy, grinning like a loon, with Parkinson next to him. Susan Bones, a Hufflepuff who'd always seemed kind to him before, but not anymore. The other Gryffindor boys. Basically everyone he knew, and then a few more. There were also a couple of people straight in front of him, and one of those got Harry back to attention by speaking.

'Today is the trial for Harry James Potter. Prosecutor is Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones. Judges are Warlock Amos Diggory, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, and Warlock David Greengrass. Warlock Lucius Malfoy has been assigned to defend the accused. The accusations are: 1) keeping a class XXXXX dangerous animal, specifically a basilisk, in a school containing 322 children. 2) Using said basilisk as a weapon against a pet. 3) Using said basilisk as a weapon for a murder attempt on one Colin Creevey. 4) Using said weapon to inflict petrification on Colin Creevey, which counts as grievous bodily harm. Mr Harry Potter, do you understand the charges ?'

Harry swallowed, a dry mouth. It sounded… pretty serious. He also wondered what a basilisk was. He hadn't had Care of Magical Creatures yet, even if he was planning on taking it next year.

'I understand.'

'How do you plead ?'

'I am innocent.. of .. all that..'

'Let it be noted that the accused pleads not guilty to all charges. Madam Bones, you may state your case.'

A stern looking woman stood up. She looked to be around 30, but ages could be deceiving from witches. She had a hard face, but even her wide robes could not completely hide the fact that she had quite the chest. It was weird, the things you notice in high stress situations. Her eyes, however, were cold and merciless, and it was clear to Harry that she considered him guilty.

'From investigations, it is clear that there has been a basilisk near the place where Mr. Colin Creevey was found. There was some minor friction damage on the stones and a nearby portrait that tested positive for basilisk-related magical residue. Petrification as a symptom is consistent with indirect exposure to the gaze of a basilisk, and Mr. Creevey was petrified with a camera in front of his eye. Sadly, the film was completely destroyed, not leaving any clearer evidence.'

She continued.

'Basilisks are immune to all forms of mind control, but it is widely accepted that they can be convinced to work together with parselmouths. We have anecdotes to this effect from India, where that skill is more common. There have been 4 registered cases of attacks with basilisks over the past 20 years, and in all of these, a parselmouth was involved.'

This statement was followed up with an Unspeakable, who testified as an expert to the fact that Parselmouths can control basilisks, and that basilisks are to magically resistant for other methods of control. Then Madam Bones continued.

'We have executed a parselmouth test on all Hogwarts students and professors. Details of this test are available in the Department of Mysteries. We know that Mr. Potter is a parselmouth, and that there was nobody else at hogwarts with that skill.'

Madam Bones sat down again.

'Thank you, Madam Bones.' It was the Minister, Fudge, who spoke. 'Mr. Potter, do you have anything to respond to this ?'

Harry tried to think as fast as possible. He glanced to Lucius Malfoy, a well-groomed man who resembled his eldest son, Draco, both in looks as in aloofness, looking expectant at him.

'I… What Madam Bones stated was that I could have done it, but nothing that says that I specifically did it. I… I heard that there was a potion that forces you to tell the truth. Can I just take that ?'

Malfoy senior leaned over, and spoke.

'I'm afraid not, Mr. Potter, veritaserum is lethal to anybody under 15 years of age. '

Harry looked down for a moment. He didn't trust Malfoy, but it wasn't like he had any other options. He looked at Lord Malfoy again.

'Can you explain them that it's not the sort of thing I would actually do? Or that the basilisk could have done it by itself without me controlling it.' Malfoy nodded.

'As a last defense….' Harry gnashed his teeth. Way to make him sound guilty. '... the defendant wishes to inform the court that he simply isn't the sort of person to assault his peers. His multiple detentions at Hogwarts for fighting do not indicate a trend. He also claims that the basilisk could have done the attacks autonomically, despite it not being spotted by the portraits and despite it not having been active for a long time before and waiting between attacks.'

Fudge nodded, and took the word again.

'I have been notified that a number of others wanted to make a statement about this case before the Wizengamot. Please be aware that Madam Bones as prosecution, as well as Mr. Potter for the defense, will both be allowed to question those who make a statement about it. '

One by one, others started to come forward. Ron was the first and most painful to Harry, claiming that everyone knew that all parseltongues were evil. He didn't even know the difference between parselmouth the ability and parseltongue the language. Hermione was apparently convinced that if he actually got arrested for it, then he had to be guilty, because adults didn't make mistakes like that. Snape told everyone that Harry always considered himself above the rules, and was the kind of person that would kill people for fun. Draco claimed Harry had threatened people with the basilisk, and said that Creevey probably had refused to pay protection money. But even at Harry's question, he couldn't name a source or someone else who'd paid Harry protection money. Then the thin, ethereal looking blonde girl who'd been sitting next to Molly Weasley had her turn.

'I believe Mister Potter is innocent from this.'

Huh. That was a first.

'Firstly, Harry is not that kind of person. He has shown in the past to risk his life, for example with the Halloween incident last year, where he selflessly saved a muggleborn witch from death by troll. That is not the act of a heir of slytherin wishing to purge all muggleborns from Hogwarts. Secondly, I've not seen any nefarious wrackspurts near Harry since the start of term. Thirdly, the Heliopaths in the department of mysteries could also have controlled the basilisk.'

It was totally silent in the courtroom, for an uncomfortable long time. While Harry appreciated someone coming to his defense, he didn't know if it was really helpful that his only defender was talking about some sort of animal or whatever wrackspurts were, which apparently nobody else could see. He looked at her, but she seemed totally honest and upfront. Not getting any questions, more damning statements were added to the pile.

At the end, he was judged guilty, and sentenced to Azkaban for 3 years. Having been chained to the wooden chair for over 4 hours as well as his mind being rather busy thinking up the worst that would happen to him, he couldn't very well walk on his own strength. He was portkeyed to a rather rickety dock, and pushed in a small boat with 4 aurors on it, held at wandpoint the entire time. After a while, he spotted an incredibly depressing black chunk of rock that looked as if dropped into the ocean by a forgetful giant. Getting closer, he felt it become colder, and he saw black shapes moving around it. He could make out really small barred windows seemingly in the rockside. They moored on a pier, and marched him a path upwards to the entrance. He felt the cold intensify, and he could swear he heard a woman screaming, but he couldn't make out what. He felt his body become weaker. When they marched past a black shape up close, he collapsed unconscious.

'No, not Harry !'

'Stand aside you stupid mudblood. You don't have to die.'

'Don't kill Harry, please, anything but that!'

'So be it. Avada Kedavra.'

A green flash of light, and he felt as much as saw a shape collapsing, her long copper-red hair trailing her to the floor. Harry felt himself reach out to her, not understanding why she fell.

'Mummy ?'

The other shape came closer.

'Mummy won't come to you ever again, Harry Potter. The Prophecy is disarmed. You die by my hand today.'

Harry saw a stick being raised towards his head. Daddy had one of those, and sometimes made him fly with it. That was amazing, but for some reason he never did it while Mummy was around. But he didn't see any of the joy in this man's red eyes. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but was cut off.

'Avada Kedavra.'

He felt a cold sensation hit his face, it's tendrils stretching across his body. Then he felt warmth, that reminded him of Mummy, pushing it back. Back out. A green light lanced from his head, leaving a scar behind as it struck the man with red eyes straight in the chest. There was a look of surprise on his face before he to, collapsed.

He would never seen Mummy again.

He was at the trial, his best friend Ron denouncing him as a Dark Lord.

He was at the girls' bathroom, a troll standing over Hermione's corpse. He knew it wasn't real, but that realization was weak… how long would he remember the truth ?

In front of the Mirror of Erised, he saw Quirrel hold a red stone, laughing at a bound Harry.

Dudley chased him into a dead end between three houses, and then he and a few others walked slowly towards Harry. He'd had gone home walking on a broken leg that day.

A monster without shape, standing over the corpse of a blond girl - the only one who had spoken in his defense. He didn't even know her name.

In the courtroom again. Fudge spoke.

'You are hereby sentenced to Azkaban for three years. My only regret is that I cannot put you away for life, but I am pleased with the knowledge that you cannot harm anyone for as long as you are there. '

Harry startled awake. His cell was grimy and clammy. Every waking and sleeping moment, the dementors of Azkaban had been in his mind, dredging up his worst memories, or even showing him fake ones of what could have happened, or might happen. Every happy moment, every success, all was twisted into fear and despair.

'Hey look, ickle Hawwy woke up again. No more sleepy-sleepy ? Time to pway ?'

And that didn't help either. He looked up at the only cell he could see from his own - one contained a certain Bellatrix Lestrange. He had no clue what she was in for. She didn't really talk about her past, choosing to mock Harry as much as possible instead. Harry sat down on the ground with his back against the wall.

'Morning Bella.'

'Shut your filthy half-blood mouth, Potter.' She spat. 'You aren't worthy to speak my first name. And you'll never be.'

'Tell me Bella, what are you in for, actually ?'

'Do NOT call me that. Only my master can call me that.'

Harry sighed.

'I will call you Lestrange, but then you have to tell me what you're in for.'

She looked at him, clearly thinking it over. Then she shrugged. Apparently it wasn't a secret.

'After my master had his… setback, I tortured a few aurors for information. They either didn't have it, or they went insane to fast. Because we didn't get out fast enough, we got put in here.'

'So your master is Voldemort ? You're a -' Then he was cut off.

'Silence. You are NOT allowed to say his name! His name is sacred!'

'You're a Death Eater?'

'I'm not just a Death Eater, I am one of the Dark Lord's most trusted, and his single most devoted follower.'

That sounded quite proud. Harry didn't know what to say about that anymore.

'Longbottom.'

Harry frowned. What did she have to do with Neville?

'What about Neville?'

'Oh, that was the brat's name, right? No, I was talking about the aurors I tortured. They were Frank and Alice Longbottom. It felt so good to hold the cruciatus on them… to feel their hopes, their dreams, and their care for their son slip away from their minds...'

The crazy woman opposite Harry looked to be savoring the memory. This might make an additional memory for him for the dementors to use. It'd probably be better to stop talking to her.

Over the days, Harry felt his mind get weaker. The dementors came in harder. He felt fear and despair taking him over. He couldn't remember anything happy anymore. He had been so happy when he came to Hogwarts, but now he only remembered being anxious, and that they betrayed him. He remembered the fear of fighting the troll to save Hermione's life, but not the warmth of her hug after. Instead, he felt the pain as she told him that all those adults putting him in prison couldn't possibly be wrong. He couldn't remember his first train to Hogwarts, surprisingly making a friend right away, instead only remembering that traitor calling him a dark wizard for something he had no control over. He didn't remember the joy of flight on his Nimbus 2000, but he did remember it rebelling against his touch and trying to throw him off under Quirrell's direction. He remembered a hexed bludger coming after him, the pure fear for his life. He couldn't remember how he got rid of it, or even who blew it up before it could harm him after the match was over.

What good had hogwarts been for him ? He hadn't been happy, not truly. Just fear, anxiousness, and tired hard work. Stress from the bushy-haired witch nagging him about his exams. Everyone looking at him as if he was a zoo animal. He'd never in his life known happiness.

A week after the start of his incarceration, Harry felt his mind break. A dementor was right in front of his cell, when he tasted blood. He fell forwards on the floor, and a storm of memories raced through his mind. His muscles gave out, and he couldn't move from where he'd fallen. The joy sucked from the last of them - a girl defending him in court. The only untainted memory he'd had. He'd never known her name, but now he forgot her face. He forgot her words. He forgot her trust. He forgot her faith in him. He could feel the pain from his humiliation, exclusion and betrayal flowing through him, bounce against the dementor, and come back in double strength. It doubled again. Again and again. Then he lost consciousness.

There was a scurrying. A sound like a dog digging in dirt. And a vague, excited little voice.

'Master in here.'

More excited noises. The sounds increased. He tried to blink his eyes, but they were to heavy. Then, though a thick haze, he saw a tiny bit of light, completely unfocused. Where were his glasses ? He tried to move an arm to feel around, but couldn't.

Suddenly, it seemed like a thick glass panel was shoved away from above him. He felt as if he was laying on his back.

'Masta!'

Whatever this creature was, it didn't believe in being quiet.

'Move!'

A different voice. It sounded… older. Then a different blob of color came into view.

'Very good. We have a new Overlord. Let's give him some energy to get him going. Flibbles!'

'For tha Masta ?'

'Yes, Flibbles, for the master. Now get over here!'

A different blob came into view, and suddenly changed shape. It gave a bit more light. It's brownish-color got a reddish hue.

'This'll make you feel better, Master' The older voice again.

Then the reddish light source was pushed towards Harry, until he felt it enter his chest. A sudden, hot warmth spread throughout his body, and he could feel it rebuild his muscles and fortify his strength. His eyes snapped into focus, and he jumped to his feet.

He seemed to be in a cave of some sort. Around him were several brown humanoid creatures that reminded him distinctly of Dobby. They were quite short, and a bit hunched over. They about reached to halfway his upper legs. Several of them were clothed in what amounted to little more than a loincloth, and being equipped with clubs. One had what looked like a robe of patchwork, and looked unarmed. It also seemed a lot older, having wisps of white hair. Then again, the others all seemed totally bald and hairless. All of them had yellow, huge eyes. Their mouths were filled with sharp teeth. Wait… halfway his legs ? He looked at himself. He still looked like Harry Potter all right, but… also not. He seemed adult. The ground was definitely further away from him than he was used to. His arms and legs seemed well-nourished for a change, though covered in strange runes. He looked at the oldest minion.

'Welcome to us, Master. I am Gnarl, Master of Minions. Now I know this is all new to you. You are our Overlord. This means that we are bound to do your will while you conquer the lands and force them to your service.'

'How did you take me here ?'

And from where ? For the life of him, Harry couldn't remember.

'Our previous Overlord died. Us minions, we could feel it. But our old Master's soul passed on instead of returning for resurrection. So we conducted the Ritual of the Master, which searches all worlds for a suitable Overlord to rule us.'

'So you pulled me out of my world, where as far as I know I had a grand old time, to do whatever here ?' For some reason, Harry felt like he hadn't been having a grand old time. That was strange, since he'd been at Hogwarts, a school of magic. Why would you have a bad time there ?. Oh, wait. The trial and Azkaban. Perhaps this new world wasn't such a bad option. He didn't have any friend or anything left in his own world anyway.

'Of course Master. Because the Overlord needs his minions, just like the Minions need an Overlord. It is the way things are.'

'Very well. Now, show me what I actually am Lord over.'