Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise, nor will I ever own it. The following is based on the plots, themes, and characters created by JK Rowling. I am but a humble fan, who finds entertainment in writing stories based off of her masterpiece.

AN:So I've had some people pestering me to put this back up. I've decided to acquiesce to their requests. The chapters have been edited since I posted them last. Whether I will continue the story, I'm not entirely sure. Nonetheless, you'll have the chapters I've already written.

A Chance Unexpected

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MythRunner

Prologue

He had come to expect many things in his life. There was a constant, repetitive pattern after all. The Dursleys hated him, the kids at primary school hated him, his old Muggle teachers thought him a liar, the residents of Privet Drive and surrounding areas thought him a ruffian troublemaker, and then there was the entire population of the British Wizarding World, who thought of him as their grand hero one minute and an attention seeking, antagonizing, impetuous child the next.

Really, he had come to expect many things in his short life. Duplicity and outright hostility from the masses and those who were supposed to care for him was on the top of the list of things that he had come to expect. However, he had never expected to be betrayed by his friends, the ones who didn't have to care but cared anyways. This … this was new, and he, Harry James Potter, was not a fan.

"Don't look at me like that, Harry," Hermione snapped with tears in her eyes. "This is for your own good. You'll see."

He glared at her through the bars of his cell; the cell that she had just tricked him into entering, before promptly shutting the door behind him. He had thought it odd that Kingsley, or rather Minister Shacklebolt, had wanted him to look over a security issue with the holding cells. He was still in training to become an Auror. He shouldn't have been the Minister's first choice to do the inspection. However, Hermione, who was apprenticing as a Runes Master in the Department of Mysteries, had convinced him that the two of them were more than up to the task. The sly mention of how busy all the certified Aurors were with capturing the remaining Death Eaters had him agreeing without question.

Merlin, he should have known. He really should have learned by now. Too many times in his life he'd been betrayed by the people around him. He should have expected that something like this would eventually happen.

"And what exactly have I done to deserve imprisonment?" Harry glared furiously at the girl, who he had counted as one of his closest friends not two minutes ago.

"We both know what sort of curses you've used over the last couple of years." Hermione took a step back from the bars of the cell with a mournful look. "It's a life sentence in Azkaban, Harry. Did you really think that people would just let you get away with it?"

"You were right there beside me! We were at war!" Harry exclaimed furiously, upon realizing she was talking about the Imperius Curses that he had had to use on Bogrod and Travers. "You know that I had to do it. We wouldn't have survived the break in, if I hadn't. I had to, Hermione. You know that!"

"You had to … just like the Cruciatus Curse that you used at the end of fifth year?" Hermione jutted her jaw stubbornly, her brown eyes flashing dangerously. "Your use of the Imperius Curse is one thing – yes, we would have been discovered, if you hadn't used it – but the Cruciatus, Harry! How could you?"

"How'd you even find out about that?" Harry reeled back from the bars, as if she had just physically struck him. He hadn't thought that anyone knew about what he had done to Bellatrix.

"Professor Dumbledore left behind memories to be unveiled after the war." Hermione straightened her shoulders importantly. "He specified that the entire Order of the Phoenix, excluding you, were to watch them. All of them … they were all about you! It was an entire pensieve of your life through his eyes! You may have tricked us, Harry, but you didn't fool him. He knew you for what you were from the very beginning!"

"Yeah, and what exactly is that?" Harry asked snidely, anger radiating off of him. Oh, he really should have expected this. He should have known that he wouldn't get to live a happy life in the aftermath of Voldemort's defeat. The fact that it was the Great Albus Dumbledore who had found a way to mess up his life now that Voldemort was no longer alive to do so, despite the old wizard being nothing more than a corpse encased within a tome, was not as surprising as it would have been just a few months ago.

"The next Dark Lord," Hermione said with narrowed, accusatory eyes, before abruptly turning on her heel and storming away with audible sobs escaping her lips.

Before Harry could restrain himself, his anger and frustration overcame him and he crashed his fist with the cold, stone wall of the cell. He let out a yell of fury and pain, as he gripped his shatter hand and cursed every deity under the sun for the shit life that had been handed to him. It wasn't until he felt the spike of magic and the stir of energy in the air that he looked back to the wall that he had just punched. His eyes widened in horror, upon seeing the visible dent and various cracks breaking across the smooth, stone surface, spreading before his very eyes, crawling all along the wall to wrap the entire cell.

"Fuck!" Harry cursed furiously and backed away towards the bars behind him. He had done something. He had definitely done something. Magic wasn't supposed to be possible in the holding cells, but he had most definitely done some sort of magic! The way that the stone continued to crack and crumble around him was in no way due to his natural strength.

"GUARD! GUARD!" Harry yelled in desperation, as the stone began to break away from the walls and ceiling, coating him with dust and debris.

Whatever the response was from the guard on duty, if there had been a response at all, Harry did not hear, as at that precise moment the stone fell away completely with a force that was in no way natural, revealing a black void and leaving him standing on the edge with only the bars of the cell to hold onto. Magic surged around him, flooding his senses and pulling him relentlessly towards the open void before him. The last thing he knew, before unconsciousness overwhelmed him, was the sensation of falling.