Hello all. This is just a tiny One-Shot that would just NOT LEAVE MY MIND today. I started at 5:00, and have not stopped since. It is, right now, 12:02 exactly, so I've been working for 7 hours and 2 minutes straight. My ass seriously hurts. Anyways, I know it's not the longest one-shot, but I still think its alright. Better have been written, but its definitely not the worst. It was inspired by the song, Come Little Children, from Hocus Pocus. Its not that version though. I strongly suggest going on youtube and finding the version by GOTHGAM08. You'll find the song all throughout my story and at the end, its really important that you listen to it. Otherwise, you won't get the full effect. Anywho, my version, which I mean the meaning of the song that correlates with my story, isn't the same as the original meaning. If you want, I can write another short chapter explaining how each section of the song relates to what is going on. Ya know, I'll probably do it even if ya don't ask, but I like it when people ask. :D Anyways, I've talked long enough. Here are the warnings.

WARNINGS: We have a graphic violence bit somewhere in the story. For any of you who don't like that, it really isn't that bad, at least its not the most fucked up thing I've ever written. So you're safe I suppose. :) Also, there IS some slash in here, but nothing explicit (for anyone like me...sorry :( but this story isn't really focused on the actual physical relationship) so any of you homo haters should be cool. This story is basically JUST drama and angst and sad things so if that isn't for you then I suggest leaving. That's about it :)

Hope you enjoy this as much as I liked writing it. :) Don't expect the best, but hopefully it isn't shit, and remember! REVIEW! This is my first one-shot so I wanna make sure I'm not doing awfully.

"It was a mistake," you said. But the cruel thing was, it felt like the mistake was mine, for trusting you."
― David Levithan, The Lover's Dictionary

Come Little Children,

I'll take thee away

Into a land

of Enchantment.

Come Little Children,

The time's come to play,

Here in my garden

of Shadow's.

"How could you Harry! How could you have done this!?" Hermione cried.

At the moment, everyone in the Order, the Weasley's, and many of the professors and students at Hogwarts were present at Harry James Potter's trial in the Ministry of Magic. Harry was seated in a high black throne in the middle of the room, hands shackled as if he were some dangerous mad man.

"I swear I didn't 'Mione! It WASN'T ME!" He cried, looking every bit the innocent he should have been. But no one believed the poor 14 year old.

No one.

"Mr. Harry James Potter. You have been charged with three accounts of first-degree murder. How do you plead?" Fudge inquired emotionlessly.

"Not guilty. Now please let me ex-"

"The evidence against Mr. Potter is as follows. Please, Mr. Dumbledore." Harry's eyes widened in shock. He's my prosecutor?

And the hope of escaping this terrible situation unscathed slowly dwindled and inevitably disappeared completely.

"In a show of hands, who in this courtroom pronounces Mr. Potter guilty of all charges?" To Harry's disappointment, every hand was raised.

"Based on this, I, Minister Cornelius Fudge, sentence Mr. Potter to 3 consecutive life sentences in Azkaban. No chance of parole. Thank you."

And with the Bang! of Fudge's gavel, Harry's life was lost to him forever.

8 Years Later

"What? Now, wait here a second. Are you telling me...Dear Merlin." Ron raced off in search of his wife, knowing that she would be able to handle this much better than him.

"HERMIONE! Come here love." The beautiful woman that he had asked to marry him two short years ago set down one of the many books lying within their small home and smiled at him.

"Yes Ron? What's wrong?" But right now Ron couldn't fully appreciate his small wife's beauty.

Right now, all he could think of was how they had sentenced their best friend to over 8 years of hell when, in fact, he was innocent all along.

"I'm...I'm afraid it's true my friends. Harry Potter was, and is, in fact, innocent."

Just a few hours earlier Dumbledore had discovered something that he wasn't sure to be happy or distraught over. Since Lord Voldemort had been fighting both the Ministry and Order of the Phoenix and had been slowly, but steadily, winning the war against them, Albus had become desperate. He had asked a few Aurors that were part of the Order to take another look at Harry's case file. Inside of that case file was a bit of information that neither Dumbledore or anyone he knew was aware of.

On Petunia Dursley's left arm were two small holes. Vampire bite holes. This later led to an investigation and it was found that a small coven of rogue vampires lived near Surrey. They had been investigated and it was found that they had been the ones to murder Harry's family.

Not Harry himself.

Dumbledore could scarcely believe it. The boy that had practically taken his place as Albus's grandson had been innocent. And now, he wasn't sure whether or not his poor child was salvageable.

"So...wait. You're telling me, the great and wise Albus Dumbledore sentenced my godson to the same Hell I was forced through!?" Sirius exclaimed. Remus, his best friend, now mate, wrapped an arm around his beloved. Sirius curled up into him and rested a now tear-covered face upon his sweater.

"I'm afraid so Sirius. However, it is all of us that are to blame. We sent him there, even though he had pleaded innocence to the very end."

"How could we have been so...so stupid!" Hermione shrieked. "We should have known Harry would never have done such a thing!"

Ron tried to comfort her, but she shook him off. Everyone in the room either had a shocked look upon their faces or they were in tears. Even Snape looked a tiny bit horrified. Suddenly, Fred and George stood up.

"Come on guys! Now that we know he's innocent let's bloody-"

"-well get him out of that shit-hole! We can't just sit here and blubber around-"

"-while he's still being tortured!" They yelled after each other. Snape's eyes darkened slightly and he managed to sneer at everyone at once somehow.

"You fools. We have no idea whether Potter is willing to forgive us and help, let alone whether he's even still sane. Has anyone actually checked on him in the past decade? Hmmm?"

"Just shut it you slimy git! Harry's stronger than any one of us. Sirius, you survived for 12 years right? And you're just fine! Harry could definitely go for 8." Sirius looked up with a forlorn look in his dark grey eyes and shook his head.

"Not only was I a full-grown adult, but I also had my animagus abilities. I'm afraid Sni-Snape is correct. I doubt he is in any way sane."

"That doesn't mean he can't be released though. Harry has the right to leave that god-awful place, even if he's a nutter. Besides, you never know...right?"

He remembered the last time he saw Potter. Voldemort had thought of killing the boy when he broke his Death Eaters out of Azkaban, but had decided that there was no need. There was also the problem of all the Dementors surrounding the boy for some reason. Voldemort hadn't had the dark creatures in his complete control at that point, so he had let him be. He wasn't about to oppose his soon-to-be allies if he could help it.

Once he took control of the Wizarding World he would do what he wanted with the child. He would probably be entirely insane by that point anyways. If he didn't try to kill him he might just set him free. Over the years he had let go of his hatred toward the boy; there really was no reason to dislike him so. He now knew that Lily Potter had been the one to kill him, actually. Without her pure sacrifice, the Potter boy would have died like any other. He had been Dumbledore's puppet. Nothing more. That was who his true enemy was. And besides, a wizard weakened by Azkaban and only a 4th year's knowledge of spells was no match for him.

After his initial resurrection in the graveyard, Voldemort had still been a bit unhinged, but since he had regained the soul piece within the diary (a soul could never be destroyed, just returned to its rightful place) he had slowly been regaining his sanity. Since that had been half of his soul, he had now regained his old looks as well, but that was beside the point. He had finally realized that Potter was no threat, and if he did end up being one, it would be simple to either kill him himself, or have a Death Eater do it.

However, he could not have Dumbledore regaining his weapon. He had no idea what the old coot would do with Potter, but even a slight advantage would be too much of one. If Voldemort could help it, Dumbledore would have no way of winning, even if that way was a Azkaban-scarred Potter. He wouldn't take any chances.

Not when he was so close to victory.

"Can this boat not go any faster Albus? I need to see my godson." Unlike most of the people within the enlarged boat, Sirius wasn't nervous. He just need to see his little Prongslet. That was all.

"We're almost there Sirius. Just a few more minutes." Sirius, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Lupin, and Snape (who only came to feed Harry some healing potions immediately after they freed him) were all in the boat; enduring the cold without a second thought, for the only thing each of them could focus on was young Harry.

Finally, they made it to the entrance of Azkaban, black shapes mulling around an even blacker castle. There weren't as many Dementors as before, for most of them had joined the Dark Lord, but there were a few that resisted. Why they did, the Light didn't know, and didn't care to. At this point, none of them could resist shivering, for their guilt towards Harry's incarceration had increased ten-fold.

Even Snape couldn't keep complete composure, but unlike them, he didn't feel entirely bad for Potter. He had been one of the few who had asked Dumbledore to take a closer look at Harry's case, but in their emotional shock, none would see sense. Snape didn't care enough for the boy so he didn't push it, but because of this he did feel quite a bit remorse. No matter how much he despised the child, no person deserved to be put through this torment, let alone a child.

As they entered, smells of unclean people and inefficient disposal of waste flooded their senses. The screams of the insane echoed within the hell-pit people liked to call Azkaban. They walked past each cell, not surprised to see that everyone had washed out complexions and faded eyes. In a way, each looked alarmingly similar to one another; as if they were related, yet each person in the group knew it to be untrue.

The guard in front said loudly, too loudly, "Mr. Potter was placed on the top floor. I believe his cell is number 696. The dementors have been told to stay away, but if any approach you, do not hesitate in casting a Patronus. I don't feel the need to even ask if you know how to cast one Mr. Dumbledore. You may leave at anytime. Good day."

The man tipped his hat and exited the building; closing the door and only source of light, behind him. They calmly entered the elevator and pressed the button to the sixth floor. In a short 7 minutes they were at the opening to room 696. Everyone stared at each other for a moment, not yet willing to open the door. Each of them felt anxious, and just a bit fearful, at what they might see within.

Dumbledore took a deep breathe, which was shortly followed by a loud scream a few doors down. He let the breathe go slowly and spelled the door open.

What met their vision was a surprising sight.

A Few Hours Earlier

"My Lord, I have some great news for you. The treaty with the merpeople has been accepted. When you take Hog-" Voldemort raised one strong, pale hand with spidery fingers and stood up slowly. Long legs that seemed impossibly thin stretched on for miles. However, his looks weren't what caused Lucius to cower in submission. It was the loads of dark power that seemed to endlessly pour from him. His Lord's smooth baritone finally sounded throughout the large, dark room.

"Tonight, we go to Azkaban. We are going to go retrieve our little...Savior."

Follow Sweet Children,

I'll show thee the way

Through all the pain

and the sorrows!

Weep not poor children

For life is...this way

Murdering beauty and passions.

The haunting melody echoed through the cell, everyone outside of the doorway entranced by the boy they hadn't seen for over 8 years.

Long dirty messy curls fell across extremely pale skin. The skin being so thin that many deep blue veins were visible. Tattered dark brown rags swallowed up the lithe frame that looked much too short for a 22 year old man. One long arm was lifted, a single finger out waving to the music that echoed within his own mind. Eyes, at the moment, were blissfully closed and moonlight shone upon his thin, gaunt face from the only window within his cell.

Suddenly, thick, dark lashes no longer high shadowed cheekbones and the terrifyingly beautiful song was abruptly cut off. Impossibly green eyes flared with life and not well-hidden madness. He slowly turned his head towards his visitors, who were all still silent with shock. He cocked his head like a curious bird and just stared with those unnerving emeralds. Right then, a crash could be heard outside with the added effects of tons of joyous screaming. Almost all of them, besides Harry, Dumbledore, and Snape jumped.

Without breaking the look, Dumbledore said, "It looks like we have company. Harry, in a moment we are going to free you. We are terribly sorry my boy." Harry's eyebrows crinkled and his head tipped even more to the side. An Avada Kedavra! was heard in the distance along with crazy laughter. Everyone headed down to fight off the intruders.

If they had been there, they would have watched their Savior split his lips into a disturbing grin that was full of too-white teeth and eyes light up with insane glee.

"Why are you here Tom? Why risk everything over Harry? You haven't touched him ever since his incarceration; why not give him some peace?" The fighting hadn't even begun yet. Both Voldemort and Dumbledore knew that if they began, it would continue until one of the Lord's perished.

"You hypocrite. You speak of giving the boy peace, when the only reason why you are setting him free is so that you can get your one and only weapon against me back. I was going to leave the child be until I took over, at which point I would let him go as long as he didn't try to rebel. The only reason why I care about his pitiful life now is because you may find use in him, no matter how small. Besides, his now-proven innocence with a close followed death will make the rebels and magical folk of Britain sooo distraught. And you know how much I like making people hurt. I also just enjoy messing with you Dumbledore."

Albus's eyes twinkled sadly, but his wand did not waver. "Why must it be this way Tom? Why must we fight?" Voldemort, for once, didn't roll his eyes at the statement. The only change in his countenance was a slight tightening of lips.

"Because we do not agree. Because I have different ideals from you Dumbledore. Because I believe the only way the magical world can flourish is under a rule without any contact with muggles. I admit, in my insanity my methods were...cruel. Now though, I just want the world I live in to be a better place. We both wish for this, but the difference is that I am right, and you are wrong." Red eyes hardened with resolve and just as he was about to utter a curse, a slight humming echoed throughout the hall.

All of them looked toward the offending sound and their sight was met with a small, skinny boy smiling wistfully with arms crossed behind his back.

"Hello." A very rusty voice called out, arms still crossed and body still leaning against a cold, dark wall. Voldemort cocked his head to this side, surprised the boy could even speak, let alone walk around.

"Harry! Thank Merlin you're okay. We have so much-" Ron, Hermione, and Sirius all said in different words, but the meaning was the same. They were all cut off by Harry as well.

"Please silence yourselves." The now slightly less rusty, but oddly happy voice called out; eyes not leaving the two Lords within the room.

"Hello Harry. I'm glad to see you up and about." Dumbledore said cautiously. He hadn't known what to expect from Harry, but it definitely wasn't this.

"It's great to see you as well Professor!" Harry chirped.

Harry suddenly slapped a hand upon his face, a bit too hard if you had asked any one of the people within the room. "Goodness me! How rude can I be?- hahaha Harry RHYMED! Gold star for Harry Potter hehe.- Hello to you too Lord Voldemort. It's been awhile huh?" In response to that Voldemort just blinked very slowly in surprise, not that he would ever admit that.

"Harry, we know you must be disoriented and all, but we came here to set you free. We finally realized you were innocent! We're so sorry, but now you can come home and it'll all be alright again!" Ron yelled, not taking his best friend's behavior as anything odd. Harry's countenance abruptly changed and the wistful grin tightened into a sharp frown, almost a pout. Green eyes went wide as saucers, the madness that had previously been hidden bursting forward, making the green appear even brighter. He took one step forward, body lax unlike his face.

"It'll all be alright again?" He cocked his head, but at this point it was anything but endearing. His whole body tightened for a moment, and then he laughed.

He laughed so hard and loud that even Voldemort felt a shiver run down his spine. His laughter turned into a shrieking until it finally sounded like he was in pain. It stopped as abruptly as it started and Harry raised pale hands in front of his still bright eyes. He ran his gaze over them, as if he was looking for some hidden secret beneath his thin skin.

"It'll all be alright again." He whispered.

He tore his gaze from his hands and ran over to Ron so fast that none of them even knew he was there until they heard the screams. Before anyone could even react, Harry had already tore out Weasley's tongue and eyes. With long nails that hadn't been cut in 8 years he ripped the ginger's shirt to shreds and eventually his skin and tissue. A bit of wandless magic didn't dissuade him either. Harry bent down and tore Ron's throat out with his canines, staining white teeth red with glorious blood.

When he was done maroon streaked his milky skin with long red streaks and his hair was now not only matted with dirt. Harry's lips were no longer a faded pink; they were red with his betrayer's life blood. Harry licked some of the thick substance off of his long fingers and sighed with contentment. Eyes with blown out pupils looked down at his first kill and whispered so quietly that the inhabitants of the room almost couldn't hear.

"Yes, it'll all be alright again."

Harry slowly strode over and stood between Voldemort and Dumbledore. Both were just staring at Harry with shock, but one held horror while the other was filled with awe.

"Now that I think it over, I think I'd be better placed with Lord Voldemort." With mouth still wide open, Dumbledore couldn't find it in himself to reply. Harry nodded firmly as if that was all the answer he needed and placed a bloody hand upon Voldemort's robes.

"I think we best be going sir. Otherwise, my old friend's might become a bit curse-happy." With a small absentminded nod, Voldemort turned his head and motioned to his Death Eater's to apparate.

And away they went.

A Couple Years Later

After that day many things occurred. Voldemort completely took over the Ministry will the help of Harry, who even in his insanity (and maybe with the help of it), managed to strike fear into the hearts of Britain. His bloodthirstiness and ruthlessness scared many into surrender. It didn't help that said horrifying symbol just happened to also be their Savior. This fact alone caused many to give up. Besides that, Harry had also helped the Dark Lord with other things.

One of them being warming his bed and heart.

"My little serpent." The Dark Lord sighed while carding long, spidery fingers through his new lover's hair. Large green eyes just peered up at him, blinking owlishly. Suddenly, he shivered. Voldemort knew what was wrong.

"You need another?" He shook his small head softly, a small smile curling upon cherry red lips. "No, my Lord. I can wait for the Final Battle. I can see it in my dreams and nightmares. It is magnificent." Voldemort graced his Harry with a small, but true smile. It suddenly changed into something much less innocent.

"So you're up for round three, are you?" Harry's mind came back to Earth with that statement, which Voldemort had known he would. When Harry got his mind on bloodshed, the only thing that would take his mind off it was real-life bloodshed, or sex. The small smile turned into a vicious grin and his imp nodded vigorously.

"But this time, my Lord, I'm on to-p." Harry purposely caused the "p" on top to make a loud Pop! noise that he knew aroused his Lord, teacher, and closest friend. He growled slightly and tugged his crazy minx on top of him, thoughts of how he didn't deserve this wonderful gift echoing throughout his mind and heart.

The Battle at Hogwarts had started about 3 days beforehand. Magical folk fought other magical folk in a dance that mankind had repeated time and time again throughout the centuries. Beams of colored light flew across the air, mingling together in a painfully beautiful way. The last breath's of creatures from both sides were being taken over and over. The only people noticing were the cause and beings taking the last breath. Screams of anguish and sorrow could be heard between roars of battle and blood-lust, if you listened closely enough. However, one being wasn't in the midst of battle. He was on top of the famous Whomping Willow and was singing into the night. For what reason, not many could, or would, understand.

Hush now Dear Children,

It must be this way

Too weary of life

and deceptions

Rest now My Children,

For soon we'll away

Into the Calm

and the Quiet.

"Please, my boy. It doesn't have to be this way! I'm sorry that you were put into Azkaban, but you can't do this! You can't do this to the Wizarding World. Please, forgive us."

Harry didn't move an inch. For one moment, the now old man thought he may have knocked some sense into his poor boy. However, it wasn't to be. Harry raised his dark hollow wood wand, ebony curls swirling in the wind, and killing curse-green eyes swirling in the same way, but for different reasons.

"Don't worry, old friend, you are forgiven. But, it must be this way." And he whispered a curse the same color as his eyes, ending the life of the last link to his world before his childhood and mind were stolen from him.

5 Years Later

"Harry, please make a horcrux. We can be together, forever."

Harry slowly looked into the eyes of the man he loved with all his heart. Emeralds met rubies and he laid one small hand upon a slightly hairy cheek. Red eyes, for the first time in so long, teared up.

"I can't lose you. You're too important to me. You're everything to me." Harry gave a small smile and green eyes glittered with love and compassion.

"Everyone has a time they must die my love. For me, that time will come sooner than you think." Tom's, no longer my Lord's (at his Tom's insistence), eyes became heated and he grabbed onto the smaller frame of his beloved.

"No. I refuse." Harry just shook his head softly, dark curls fluttering around an elfin face. He knew his soul mate would never understand. Best to just let the topic go and live.

"Marry me." And Tom smiled and Harry laughed and soon enough they were laying upon their king sized bed, all kisses and love which would make any pessimist gag in revulsion. But for them, it was heaven.

40 Years Later

Harry was now a 70 year old man. The Wizarding World was now completely under his Tom's control and their lives couldn't have been better.

Right now, it was a dark, gloomy day filled with rain clouds and no color. But Harry couldn't think of a more wonderful and beautiful atmosphere for what was about to occur. With his long and lithe body leaning over the balcony to their 3 story house, Harry really couldn't have been happier.

He looked over the gardens he had insisted on Tom helping plant with him. Suddenly, all the memories of the past few decades fluttered through his brain, but he couldn't bring it in himself to mind in the slightest.

He remembered how his love had taught him how to play instruments (which included the violin and piano) so they could play and sing together. He remembered all the instances where he had made Harry laugh each time he got lost in the memories from his time within Azkaban so he wouldn't be afraid and sad. He remembered his 34th birthday, when Harry had gone through a depression, and Tom had destroyed the dreadful prison, and all his traumatic nightmares and thoughts with it.

He flipped through memories of their wedding, their first child, and second, and finally of their latest anniversary, where they had had mind-blowing sex and afterward Harry had made sure to stick the horcrux of Tom within himself inside a separate container; his very own wedding ring. He remembered his beloved's goofy smiles that he only shared with him; no one else. He remembered how he had faked making his very own horcrux so Tom would be appeased and be happy again. He remembered his own son's child being born and how the boy had adopted his own green eyes, unlike his and Tom's children, who had both inherited Tom's red ones.

Harry smiled wistfully in the distance. Happy in the knowledge that he had no regrets. He took one look inside, staring at the piece of light parchment which contained a small note inside for his dear, sweet Tom. With that glance over and done will, he returned his gaze to the dark clouds, sighing softly at the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. Finally, Harry began to sing a sweet, haunting melody that spoke of old memories he still had not completely let go of, but soon would.

Come Little Children,

I'll take thee away

Into a land,

of Enchantment.

Come Little Children,

The time's come to play

Here in my garden

of Shadows.

And with the ending of the sweet song, Harry let go of his past, and his hold on the railing.

And he fell.