Dumbledore sat before his pensieve, reliving memories of events long since passed. The death of a student during the TriWizard Tournament; discovering Sirius hiding in a cave in Hogsmead, much more alive than everyone thought; and most disturbing: the arrest and incarceration of Harry Potter. That had been many years ago; many terror filled years ago. Voldemort had established control over the Muggle World as well, and the Ministry was finally out of ideas. They only had one hope, no, one weapon left; Harry Potter; the Boy-Who-Lived.


Harry lay against the wall in his cell. The water dripped down onto him as rain pounded the massive island prison. Azkaban was illuminated by lighting as the rain tried to erode the evil right off the island. Dementors swooped by outside, leaving depression in their wake. Harry thumped his head against the wall happily. Harry. Haaaaarry, he thought, stretching out his name to fill the hours. My name…is Harry! Harry Po- pot…What was that last bit, again? The boy scratched at his shaved scalp, and went back to thumping his head against the wall lightly. My name is Harry, and all of the people here are my friends! Friends, friends, friends! The small boy looked out his window at the ocean crashing against the rocks. The rocks seemed very far off today. It also seemed very cold. He'd been here for a while...maybe it was Christmas? Christmas was in winter, right? And winter in Europe meant snow... Harry pulled himself to his feet unsteadily, and held onto the bars set into the wall. At least the rain wasn't coming in the opening this time… and at least it wasn't snow. It could always be worse, right?

Harry looked down at the dark water. That doesn't look too far… The emaciated boy poked at his straining ribs, and looked at the bars again. Let's go for a swim, Harry… He leaned against the bars and pressed his right arm through first. He turned his head to squeeze through and pushed with his shoulders, laughing as his old glassed caught against the bars. He took them off delicately and threw them into the corner of his cell. His laughter rang out over the island prison as the lenses in his glasses shattered. Harry stepped forward and his thin shoulders fit through the bars easily. Do you drown if you're thirsty? I'm so thirsty... Harry shrugged his bony body and looked over the edge of his window. Far below him, the ocean crashed against the rocks; reaching up to capture the small boy.

He let go of the bars and fell to the water.


Sirius Black paced the long hallways of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. His mother's portrait was tightly covered, with only a dull mutter of her objections. Of course, knowing his mother, Harry would be viewed in the highest regard. After returning from the graveyard, screaming and covered in blood, Harry had become the perfect little pureblood. He never argued anymore, and he barely spoke to anyone. He just sat there quietly, handed in his homework, and went to his dorm. Even his old rival, Malfoy, couldn't pull him away from the horrific memories of that night in the graveyard. No one knew what had really happened after the portkey pulled him there, and seeing the way Harry was now…no one really wanted to… Harry was silent and withdrawn. A month after the TriWizard Tournament, the Ministry of Magic showed up in the Great Hall. Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, strode toward Dumbledore with a grin on his face. The old wizard leaned forward as Fudge whispered something in his ear. His blue eyes met Harry's, and Harry was led out of the Hall. Three days later, Harry was sentenced and carted off to Azkaban.

Sirius hadn't seen him in three years.


Harry fell toward the sea and stretched his arms out happily. The bitter wind tugged at his thin clothing, passing through it to chill the pale skin beneath. Of course he was pale: it wasn't as though they allowed murderers outside…

His arms stretched out before he fell, making him as wide as possible. He didn't want to escape Azkaban.

The small boy laughed maniacally and saw something out of the corner of his eye. A black shape was coming towards him. Harry felt the chill seep into his bones. Dementor. His laughter cut off abruptly, and Harry felt darkness take its place. The dementor flew toward him and snatched him into the dank folds of its cloak. It smelled of mold and long-dead things. Harry sighed as the darkness of the dementor's cloak swirled around him, placing him back inside his cell. He slumped back down to the stone floor as the dementor slid through the wall and back outside.

That's what, eight now? They get me every time…


Hello kiddies! This lovely little idea wouldn't leave me alone, so it went from 2 chapters of drabble, into a story that I might occasionally remember to write. Leave me reviews and nice things: if you leave me mean things, then...don't know what I'll do, but you probably won't enjoy it...*backs away* Happy reading then!