Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not making and money or profits of this fanfiction. This is merely a fans imagination gone out of control so please don't sue me.

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The Black Legacy

Prologue – The Trial

Friendship was a funny thing, no matter how close people become, whether it was for the company so that you could void away loneliness or love so that you could feel loved instead of neglected, the truth is it comes down to trust and the earning of trust. Harry Potter felt neither love nor company, only betrayal. And the worse part of it all is the betrayal stems from those he held dear and trusted with all his heart. But friendship was a funny thing, very fickle, especially now. For here he was, sitting in a damp, cold and dark cell of one of the most infamous wizard and witch prisons in the wizarding world…

Azkaban Prison.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, and many more iconic names passed down to him by the many witches and wizards of the wizarding world since he was only one years old. What good where these names to him now? Even as he sat alone in his dingy and dirty cell which was no more then three metres across in all directions, typical of a cell meant to invoke claustrophobia, he wondered…

Why?

Many times since his incarceration he has thought about this, and every time it would slip away from him. It was like the whole of Azkaban was affecting his memory with each passing day, leaving only the most gruesome and negative of memories. This effect in question changed Harry both outwardly and inwardly with degrading results. The vitality in Harry's appearance which shined and showed when he was fifteen vanished with each day all the way up to year three, leaving behind a malnourished seventeen year old with little energy left in his body. Dressed in the dirty and ripped garbs that all prisoners wore in Azkaban, Harry looked nothing more then a shadow of his former self. The worst was the Dementors, which he was constantly exposed to have rendered him almost soulless, his eyes showing the loss of emotion and life in him.

It all began thee years ago…

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Three years earlier...

It was a clouded sky that day, as rain poured with a vigorous temper, echoing off of everything it hit. From Harry's perspective it was just jumbles of unrecognizable sound. From what he could gather he did not know where he was. He was so numb in the muscles that he was unfeeling of anything, only the chilling cold that he felt in his bones. The one thing he noticed that he could make out was that he was moving, well not so much as moving but being moved against his will. The more he looked the more he noticed that it was more like he was floating in midair.

'Where am I?' He thought, when suddenly…

In the instant, Harry was blinded by a flash of light in front of him, which came through blurred slit. The noise level rose when this happened, and this is what confused Harry, for it sounded like people shouting but it was muffled like it was being filtered out by something. The light all around him started to get lower the more he entered. Looking up Harry could make out the source of the light which was floating candles about two metres up in the air.

'Am I at Hogwarts?' Harry wondered, thinking it strange that he was floating in what appeared to be the main dining hall of Hogwarts, which to his memory candles usually floated.

Taking in his surroundings from as much as he could make out, he came to notice that he was not in Hogwarts. The room was smaller for starters, and a distinguishing feature was all around him there appeared to be small wooden structures set out in a circular formation. It was only when he came to stop that he noticed where the voices came from that he heard before. Standing within the wooden structures were the blurred shapes of people. As before the one thing that overshadowed the sound of the rain on the outside were the voices of people speaking in haste and strangely enough in anger.

All noise seized at that moment, all except for the echo of rain. Harry felt the air getting less cold, which was brought some feeling back into his body. As he tried moving he noticed two things, he bound in chains and contained in what he could feel was a cage of sorts but very narrow.

Suddenly Harry found that he could see perfectly. Someone had put his glasses on him. Turning his head he saw a man standing by and looking to his front, not for once glancing at him. Harry was about to say something to get his attention until he felt a familiar feeling in his bones. Standing next to the man, floating like a ghost but more animated and fearful was one of the infamous dementors of Azkaban, looming near him like a shrouded shadow.

'What are they doing here?' Harry thought, afraid to speak, fearing that it will incur the dementor to him. While Harry thought this he took in his surroundings, now that he was able to see better. His earlier assumptions were true, he was not at Hogwarts, and by the looks of it he was in some large meeting room. Chairs were or seating areas as they would be called, the same structures he saw before were set around him in an oval shape.

Harry froze up, as the familiar feeling of the dementor took hold of him. Harry could practically tell that the demontor was eager to suck out his soul. It was like heat from fire, the sucking feeling taking hold, the screaming of his mother's voice was all he could hear, like white noise blanking every other sound in the room. If he was paying any attention he would have noticed someone was calling his name.

"Harry Potter, respond this instance!"

Blinking a few times Harry looked in the direction from where the voice came from… his eyes become sceptical. Sitting in front of him, on a podium of sorts and wearing some distinct looking robes was none other then Cornelius Fudge the Minister of Magic. Seeing him Harry took a closer look around the room. His widened slightly, he saw that he was in a courtroom.

"Harry Potter, I will not ask you once again!" Fudge demanded in a raised voice, showing that he was beginning to get angry.

To this Harry looked up at Fudge after his slight tantrum scream. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. Can you repeat the question?" Harry asked in an innocent voice, almost naive.

"Harry James Potter, do you know why you have been brought before the Wizengamot?" Fudge asked in a calmer voice

Harry stayed silent for a while, before responding. "No… no I don't." His voice was still innocent.

"Mr. Potter, you are here today on trial for the use of underage magic… and for the use of the unforgivables, which you used in the murder of your relatives, the muggles Vernon Dursley, Petunia Durseley and Dudley Dursley."

Harry's eyes pretty much bulged out of head; he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play innocent Mr. Potter; there is no point in lieing to us." Fudge said heatedly.

"I am not lieing, I do not know what you are talking about, I didn't do anything." Harry said in a raised voice of his own.

Uproar in the crowd broke out as many witches and wizards started shouting towards Harry. Most of what was being said couldn't be made out, but the words that were heard were liar and murderer.

Looking around the crowd Harry noticed a few people he recognized. Sitting in the higher part of the courtroom were the people he recognized the most, his friends and family, Ron, Hermione, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, Moody, Shackerbolt, McGonagall and the whole Weasley family all sat next to each other, looking at him, but what stood out on their features was the way they were looking at him, which were looks of contempt. Confusing as it was, the sight of them looking at him in such hatred was enough to bring tears to Harry eyes.

Fudge started banging his hammer on his table, trying to bring order to the heated audience. "ORDER!" He shouted, before turning his sights onto Harry again, harbouring a vicious smile. "Then how do you explain your wand being at the site of the crime and that it is your signature which matches the spell used Mr. Potter? Are detectors found that you used the cruciatus curse a number of times, this nor including the imperius and the avada kedavra."

Harry felt like he was choking upon hearing this. "I… I don't know? But I swear… on my mother's grave that I didn't murder anyone… I couldn't, there has to be some kind of mistake." Harry responded, his voice breaking.

Fudge gave a bored sigh. "Swearing isn't enough Mr. Potter; the evidence against you proves that you and only you could have cast the spell since the wand is designated to you only. Even Dumbledore along with other witches and wizards, who will remain unnamed, state that you and only you could have cast the curses with your wand and no one else."

Harry looked up towards where Dumbledore sat, looking at him pleadingly, hoping for his help. Dumbledore just shook his head negatively with a disappointed look on his face and looked away as if ashamed to look him in the eyes.

Silence filled the room until Fudge broke it. "The sentence has been decided." Fudge said, making everyone in the room silent. "Harry James Potter… it is the Wizengamots decision, for the use of underage magic and the murder of three muggles you are hereby sentenced to three life sentences without any chance of parole to Azkaban Prison." Fudges said while banging a hammer on the table to seal the sentence. "Take him away."

With the signal the Dementor who floated by Harry's cage, without touching the cage pulled it towards the entrance to the courtroom.

"I didn't do it, I swear, please believe me." Harry screamed, and then he looked towards Ron and Hermione who had come down from the stands in front of him. "Ron, Hermione you believe me don't you?" He pleaded.

Ron didn't say a word. Hs response to Harry's begging was a fist, which Ron hurled into Harry's gut, getting his fist through an open gab in the cage. Harry coughed up a bit of blood from the unexpected punch, showing a stunned and shocked face. What followed was everyone who walked by in the courtroom taking turns in punishing Harry. Some of the people he recognized, which were students from different years at Hogwarts. Some punched him while others spat and shouted at him.

Through all this Harry looked as his friends just stood and watched. It was then that he came to a stop all of a sudden. Confused at why they had stopped, the answer came when some one came in front him dropping a trunk. Harry's eyes widened when he recognized the trunk as his own.

It was at that point that Dumbledore came into view, with his wand in Hand. With a wordless spell Harry watched as Dumbledore opened his trunk. Inside was the very essence of Harry life. His photo album of his parents that Hagrid gave him in his first year, his Firebolt from his late godfather, his wand and other magical items he collected over the years.

Harry looked from his trunks to Dumbledore, wondering what was going on. Harry's eyes widened when it dawned on him. With a desperate struggle Harry tried to move, but it was a wasted effort as he watches everything that he owned being burned in front of him.

"NO!" Harry shouted, tears flowing down his face at this point like Niagara.

Everyone started cheering again with gleeful looks. Even Ron, who conjured the spell to burn the trunk smirked. Harry just hung his head, defeated. Then he heard a hoot. Looking up again he saw one of the only other people he despised besides Voldermort.

"Well, well Potter."

"Draco." Harry said through gritted teethe.

"Have a nice life in Azkaban. And do go crazy while you are." Draco all but laughed.

Harry was about to retort when he noticed what Draco was holding. It was a cage and inside was his white owl Hedwig, trying desperately to get out to her master.

Draco saw this. "Oh yes I almost forgot!" And with an evil smirk Draco through the cage with Hedwig into the flaming trunk, closing the lid locking Hedwig's fate.

"HEDWIG." Harry shouted, as the Dementor started dragging the cage once more.

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Present Day...

Three years ago that was. As the days passed and as the seasons changed, all Harry could think about was how much longer he had to wait until death took him. It was all he could wish and hope for, which was little. With a tired heart Harry closed his eyes, hoping that a little sleep could bring him some peace. Hopefully the dementors would leave him be for an hour.

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AN: This is a reconstructed version of my original chapter I first wrote. I hope you enjoy it. If preferred the original please tell. I might be doing this for every chapter I have done so far. So please R&R.