Welcome. If you're familiar with this story, then yes! This is the rewritten version! There are a few things I wish to highlight before you go any further or invest yourself in the story:
1. If you don't know already, this story will have a very cunning and clever Voldemort – I mean this to the extreme.
2. "Whiney" Harry will largely be absent this time around.
3. Female Ron will still be in this story. If you've got a problem with that, I honestly don't need to hear it. This has nothing to do with my earlier hatred towards him. I completely grew out of that the more I reread the books (especially Deathly Hollows). My feelings are neutral towards him. The only reason I'm keeping Ron female is because it fits with the plot I sat out; it's for the story's sake.
4. The plot is more concrete. I have even taken the time to write manuscripts.
5. The Harem part of the story is still in motion. Once again, don't like Harems? It was nice knowing you.
6. OOCness for some characters is a given. Honestly, don't come into this fic and expect them to act exactly like they did in canon. If they did act like that, then there would be no point for this story!
7. This story is done in my free time. I won't make any promises of sporadic updates. I dislike people who can't keep their promises for no reason, so I won't make any.
8. Weasley Bashing and even Granger Bashing will be here. But, it isn't to the same degree as the original version, although it will start off much, much worse.
9. Some things were changed to make events more plausible. This is no longer post CoS but post GoF.
11. I plan to make this story extremely long. So far, I predict a total of forty chapters (10 000 words or more each) but it's still too early for me to give you my word on that. Remember, no promises.
12. The original version (of this story) was done with a limited knowledge of the Harry Potter series (hardly watched the movies). I couldn't afford the books then (2015) because of my poor background. But now I have the entire collection, which helps in making this story more… relatable, I guess.
13. Please review. I know for some it's a pain ("too much work") and for others, they just don't want to for the simple reason that it's not a complete story. The latter is pretty unfair, in my opinion. As a fellow author or critic, you know very well that reviews are what keep most stories on this site alive; they motivate us authors. Please understand that I love reviews, no matter if they are good or bad (please consider making them constructive as well) because I love discussing points that the reviewer made. It helps me better myself, it really does. I'm not going to beg you, but I won't be motivated without them.
Chapter 1: When It's Too Late: Part 1
In a small apartment building, a young man woke up to the ringing of his alarm clock. He got out of bed, looked around at his shoddy surrounding and began to prepare for the day.
It was routine for Harry. In a sense, he always felt on edge ever since the 'incident' more than a year ago, where he had been convicted of killing Fred Weasley and six witches…
With Fred, it had happened at the very end of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry had escaped Voldemort using the Triwizard cup as a Portkey. When he came to Hogwarts with a dead Cedric in tow, people were too distracted by the horrible sight to note more danger.
Then it happened, the initial harmless cup had been cursed, causing it to explode into deadly shards that would be fatal to anyone who was too close. Dumbledore had immediately protected Harry from it, and a number of adults protected the children as well. But there were just too many pieces flying in the air to account for. Many people were severely injured. Fred was the only person who wasn't prepared for the onslaught. His death was instant.
The grief that greeted the Weasley family that day had been emotionally scarring.
Harry had told Dumbledore and the Weasleys of what happened with Voldemort, and that Voldemort probably rigged the cup in case he tried to escape. Dumbledore agreed that it was very possible, but it took a lot more of convincing for the Weasley family whose emotional wounds were still fresh from Fred's death. Harry had been utterly shocked to find out that they had initially blamed him. But he forced the sting aside. He understood… or at least tried to.
He and Ron were on even more shaky grounds. Ron hadn't been talking to him much ever since the incident. There was an odd resentment in the redhead's voice when he did converse with Harry, like a large part of him did blame Potter for Fred's death. But Ron did try to put that behind him after constant complaints from Hermione about his attitude.
Harry had spent some of his Summer at the Dursleys again. But it wasn't two weeks before Aurors were at the door, demanding his surrender or swift termination, much to his shock.
Dumbledore had been surprised himself, asking questions to the man in charge of the group when he came to the Ministry. Harry would never forget the disappointing gaze from his then Headmaster for as long as he lived. He let them keep him in a holding cell; it wasn't in his character to fight off authority figures, anyway.
He was to be put on trial. The Ministry were not taking any chances of even giving him a probationary period. Even if he pleaded his innocence countless times, he was locked in the cell that was specifically designed to keep him in.
Before the trial even began, Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys were on his side. They constantly visited his cell, conversing heartedly with him. Harry knew they were worried, and their constant visits were a means to keep him calm and let him know that he still had people who believed he was innocent.
On the day of the trial, everyone was prepared for what would transpire. News reporters flocked the outskirts of the Ministry chambers, desperate to be the first to get a scoop of The-Boy-Who-Lived paying for crimes that were unforgivable. Many were sceptical, though. Some knew of Harry's character. It seemed very hard to picture the kind boy to be a blood-thirsty murderer.
Scepticism intensified when the trial began. The prosecutor made a show of labelling Harry as a master of deception, envisaging himself as an innocent boy but being truly a heartless tyrant. The Weasleys made their disagreements known, shouting curses at the prosecutor for even insinuating that Harry was evil. Minister Fudge had to, on more than one occasion, call for order.
The prosecution wished to provide evidence to make their claims more concrete. They opted the use of a Pensieve for everyone to see Harry's memories themselves.
The process was fairly quick. Minister Fudge had given orders to also retrieve memories from the time of the Triwizard Tournament. Once everything was prepared, Dumbledore cast a spell that outwarded the memories so everyone could watch. And they all did in rapt interests.
They saw, to their horror, someone in a hooded cloak and Harry conversing at the supposed graveyard that Harry had escaped from while Cedric's dead body was just next to them. Harry voluntarily took the cup that killed Fred Weasley from the cloaked figure and seemed to have a sinister smile on his face. The killing of the six witches was also confirmed, along with another person that was unaccounted for.
Harry couldn't stop looking at the scene. He knew he was innocent, and he had been hoping that the Pensieve would have provided solid proof and he would be out of the trial in no time. But it didn't; it only solidified his criminal conduct.
"That's not what happened, I swear!" he yelled to a still silent room.
"So, you're going to denounce your own memories?" Fudge questioned sternly.
"They're not mine! I never accepted anything from anyone! Voldemort killed Cedric and tricked me into escaping with the cup! I was never where any of the witches were killed!"
"Wrong!" the prosecution accused. "We have witnesses!"
That got the entire room's attention, and Fudge was more than delighted to move away from the subject of Voldemort.
One by one, witches came onto the stand. All of them testified against Harry, some plainly describing that the man that killed the witches had a scar on his forehead and wore glasses.
As the evidence kept mounting against him, Harry could feel a shift from the people closest to him. Ron was becoming increasingly angry and the rest of the Weasleys looked lost at what to think. Hermione kept her eyes on him, trying to figure out what was real and what was not. Harry felt a pang when he concluded that he was losing them all to this trail.
"This has become increasingly complicated," Dumbledore said after the last witnesses' testimony. "However, I dare say that we cannot base our judgement on mere witness sightings, as anyone can make mistakes."
"What about the Pensieve, Dumbledore?" Fudge challenged.
"I cannot refute that what we have witnessed were indeed memories taken from Harry. But I would like to cross-reference them in case there was something that was missed. The memories were unusually quick in sequence from one to the next."
"What, like memories were hiding something? Is that what you're insinuating?"
"Merlin, no. I just think that they should be analysed very carefully for inconsistencies."
"This is the first time I have ever heard of someone questioning memories," Fudge chuckled snidely. "It seemed that it was a good idea to have you removed from the Wizengamot. Your old age is catching up to you."
Dumbledore didn't let the jibe get to him but opted for another strategy. "Then I elect the use of Veritaserum in order to deduce Harry's own confession, from word-of-mouth."
Fudge turned to his associates. They all nodded.
So, the Minister agreed, and Harry found himself taking sips of water, with an added dosage of something odd. He was put on the spot. He could feel himself losing touch with reality. He was asked a few innocent questions by the prosecutor to confirm that the serum was taking effect. Once he fell under the truth drug completely, the prosecutor immediately began with the intended inquiries.
"Mr Potter, were you at the location that your memories indicate at the time of the murders?"
"... Mmm… ng… Y-Yesss."
It was as if time stopped. There were gasps all around the courtroom. Even Dumbledore could not keep his shock in check as he heard Harry's confession.
"Okay," the prosecutor continued. "Did you murder the six girls?"
An uncharacteristic smirk played on his devoid face. "Ngg… Oh, yesss and a lot… ngg… more than that."
Most couldn't discern what they were hearing. The people who knew Harry personally were left speechless by his words. Molly Weasley had already fainted. Arthur gulped air like a fish in the desert as he held his wife. Ginny... poor Ginny, she couldn't stop herself from sobbing.
"Did you kill the one named Fred Weasley?"
Harry openly, darkly snickered out, "No, but it wasssn't an… ngg… accident."
"T-This... This can't be right!" Ron sputtered, surprising the courtroom.
The prosecutor wasn't obligated to talk to people not involved in the case, but seeing an opportunity, he decided to. "After the Pensieve we've witnessed and Mr Potter's word-of-mouth, you still choose to question our evidence?"
Put on the spot, Ron was flustered, but he spoke out anyway. "I-I know Harry! He saved my sister's life and many others. There has to be a mistake somewhere!"
"Mr Weasley," Minister Fudge began, shaking his head, "I do apologise for this, my dear boy, but the evidence is clear and Harry's confession solidifies his involvement in the case."
"Was anyone with him on this day, September the fifth?" The prosecutor questioned, directing his gaze to the uncomfortable and torn Weasley family.
"He was supposed to be with the Dursleys, his caretakers, if you could call them that," Arthur begrudgingly supplied.
"I see." The prosecutor directed his gaze to a young Potter, who was still under the influence of the truth serum, "Were you at the Dursley residence on September fifth?"
"... Ngg…! In the beginning, but I used their neglect and snuck out of the house."
"Where did you go to?"
"The park… u-u… gah… underground sewers."
"For what reason?"
Another snicker, his mouth in a snarl. "What do you think? To kill those… ngg… bitchesss, of course
Now people were angry.
"Let's go back then to the Triwizard Tournament." The prosecutor noticed this was a golden opportunity. "Did you kill one Cedric Diggory?"
"Yesss."
There was an uproar.
"Silence!" Fudge yelled.
"Who were you talking to that gave you that cup?"
"A servant of Voldemort. I don't know his name."
The gasps and flinches were more prominent.
"Servant of Voldemort?!" Fudge babbled, flinching himself. "Why would there still be anyone who supports a man who has been long since dead?"
"Because Voldemort is alive and I've… nnnggg… joined him."
Dead silence.
After gathering himself, Minister Fudge analysed what he just heard. Since Harry was under a truth drug, everything he was speaking of must have been the truth.
Which brought on huge problems for the wizarding world. The Minister knew he could not denounce Harry's claim of Voldemort existing because that would denounce Harry's confession to murder as well. But, something still didn't seem right.
"Did you see Voldemort at any given time?" Fudge asked, flinching.
"No, I was told that he has returned," Harry admitted, bored. "I jumped at the chance."
"You bastard!" Ron spat, livid with what he was hearing. "How could you do this to us, Harry?! We've been there for you all this time!"
"Mhmhmhm… Because I could and it was easssy," Harry chuckled impishly.
"Calm yourself, Mr Weasley," Fudge said. He directed his gaze back to Harry and decided to continue with the important subject. "How are you certain that He-Who-Shall-NOT-Be-Named has returned if you've never seen him?"
"He communicated with me."
"How?"
"I don't know, actually, but he has."
"That is not an answer, Potter!" Professor McGonagall, who had had enough of Harry's betrayal, said spitefully.
People in the courtroom were still processing everything. Dumbledore had been trying to see if there was a way to salvage the situation and perhaps get Harry a lighter sentence, one which didn't involve Azkaban. But it was hopeless. He couldn't be charged as a minor because of his importance. It would be impossible to ask for an appeal. Because Harry had confessed to a number of gruesome murders that were hard to stomach, one of them being the slow mutilation of a teen witch, the Ministry would deem him too dangerous for society. Dumbledore knew all about the procedure from his time as Chief Warlock. There was nothing he could do.
The boy would have to pay, and the fight against the Dark Arts would be crippled if not finished. It saddened the old wizard, but Harry needed to face justice.
"It's fine," Fudge said, already figuring out what Harry must have been getting at. "You must have been tricked, Mr Potter, by someone who was posing as the Dark Lord."
"..."
"There is no choice on the matter then. For the murdering of six innocent witches and two wizards. You are hereby sentenced to life in Azkaban without parole. May Merlin have mercy on your soul."
The effects of the Veritaserum subsided. Immediately, Harry jumped out of his seat. "Please! I didn't do it! I don't know what happened to me, but that wasn't me talking, I swear to you!"
No one was buying it. Almost everyone looked at him disgustedly.
"You're dead to me, you hear me, Potter?!" Ron snarled. "Rot in hell, you bloody monster!"
"No, Ron! It's all lies! I'm being framed!" Harry yelled back animatedly, pure desperation filling his voice.
Arthur glared at Harry with so much hatred that was easily mirrored by an awake Molly. To think that they had allowed someone so despicable to be part of their family? And Fred was the cost for it!
Hermione wasn't looking at Harry anymore. She gave up her visage of his innocence by the end of his confession. She didn't want anything to do with him anymore.
"I swear on my parents' graves that I never, ever killed anyone! I didn't do any of this!" Harry said to all of them.
Fudge had enough. "Pathetic. You can't lie your way out of this one. You can't blame He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named on your crimes any longer. Your excuses are all used up, right, Dumbledore?"
Harry looked at his Headmaster as well, silently begging for him to defend him. He had to have seen that it was all trick. The old man knew the real him; he had to have realised that something wasn't right about all this.
But Dumbledore only stared at Harry in pure sadness. "I'm sorry, Harry. I want to believe you, I do for certain. But the evidence is just too incriminating. This isn't what I had hoped for… I need time to think."
Time to think? What the hell did that mean? Harry needed his help now and he needed time to think?
Two Aurors began to haul him away but he didn't want to leave things as they were.
"Please let me talk to them!" Harry begged as they passed the Weasley family. The Aurors looked to fudge.
"Let him," Fudge dismissed, not really caring at the moment.
They released him, and Harry scrambled to get to them.
He was met with a wicked hook that connected to his face. Ron had taken matters into his own hands and let his rage get the better of him. He would later wonder what had come over him. However, in this moment, all he wanted to do was avenge the death of his brother. He wanted to take out his anger at the betrayal of someone he had once considered family.
He quickly straddled Harry and began pummelling away until blood started to splatter on the floor. It all happened in a matter of seconds.
Arthur viciously hauled Ron away from Harry. "That's enough, Ron!"
"No! Dad, how can you say that! He killed your son!" Ron gnarled.
Arthur winced at the mention of Fred. He looked on resentfully at the pitiful Harry Potter as he tried to right himself.
Harry felt every bruise on his face like someone had lit a torch and threw it at him at close range. He could taste the metallic texture of blood and had a distinct feeling that his jaw was dislocated.
Even through the searing pain, he struggled to the redheads, desperate for them to understand.
"P-please b-believe m-me," he struggled to say. He briefly looked around and saw no one giving him sympathy… except for Hermione. But her sympathy appeared to be more at his state than his plight.
"Harry," she struggled to say anything with eyes on her, but she persisted. The boy who betrayed her deserved everything he got. "I hope I never see you again."
Harry's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. She couldn't have meant it.
"I hate that we were friends," Hermione continued. "I hate that I can't hate the time I've spent with you."
Was she… was she struggling to accept this, too? Did she have doubt?
"I hate you."
Harry's already blurry world came crashing down at her harsh admission.
"I didn't-"
"Don't lie to me!" Hermione screamed. "We all know who you are now! I was willing to believe you but after this… I can't even look at you anymore."
Ginny couldn't hold the opportunity to vent her own anger. She rushed to him and slapped him as hard as she could. Everyone flinched at the deafening sound of flesh meeting flesh.
Harry's eyes stared at his side from the force; he didn't bother looking back at them. He had given up any hope. The tears stung more than he could ever imagine. He had never remembered sobbing so wretchedly before.
From then on, he spent approximately three months in Azkaban. The Dementors paid their regular visits. In fact, they were practically his only company. Relieving nightmarish memories was extremely hard on him for the first few weeks. He could hardly discern from reality by the time Dumbledore came to visit him.
"We're all disappointed in you, Harry. You have betrayed everyone around you for such petty reasons," Dumbledore said.
"Pro… Professor," he rasped in a tired voice.
Dumbledore eyed the boy huddled in the far corner of the cell, looking thin and out of touch with reality. Harry's glassy eyes stared passed him.
The Headmaster sighed and actually sat down on the floor by the cell doors. "I keep wondering to myself as to where did we all go wrong? It makes little sense that you would betray us like this."
"…"
"I just… I don't know, Harry. I don't know what to think of you anymore. I thought I knew you well, but I evidently never have."
"… I-I'm … i-innocent."
Dumbledore looked at Harry again. It was obvious that Harry was having a hard time speaking. His voice sounded hoarse, either from disuse or… overuse. And the way Harry stared back at him, like he wasn't there, like he didn't exist, would haunt Albus for years to come.
"And how can you refute all the evidence placed against you?"
"… Vol… V-Vol…"
He was struggling hard, Albus noted. He also noted a distinct fear and twitch whenever Harry started to say the name. But he knew what Harry wanted to say.
"Are you telling me that Tom did all this, Harry? It seems highly impossible. It's far too elaborate to be Tom's character if that was the case."
"He… visits… a lot… telling… m-m-me… I lost…"
That definitely got Dumbledore's attention. Voldemort actually visited Harry? Why? Better yet, if that's what happened, why didn't Voldemort kill Harry now, when he was absolutely defenceless? The better part would be to know if Tom really orchestrated any of this.
"How can you expect me to believe any of this, Harry?"
"… Why?"
Dumbledore's eyes widened at the harsh voice. "Why what?"
"Why… don't… you believe… me? I've… always done… no wrong. H-how come… I always have… to be… the one… suffering and… getting the blame… Why me? Why?! Why does everyone always expect the worst of me and jump at the chance to believe it! Why can't my word be enough! Why do I always have to prove myself! Why *Cough!* *Cough!*"
Dumbledore had his eyes transfixed on Harry as he violently coughed. He was even more staggered when Harry suddenly started sobbing.
Harry covered his face with his hands, but couldn't stop himself. His body broke out in shivers and he couldn't hold back the mangled wail that rocked his form.
"I… didn't ask for any of this!"
Something snapped in Albus at the sight; something very, very strong lurched his heart. He couldn't, wouldn't deny what his instincts were telling him. The rising horror to his conclusion made the lump in his throat very difficult to swallow. He used all his will power not to choke on his own spit.
Harry… Harry had to be innocent.
Why, though? How did seeing a murderer crying in defeat solicit such a conclusion? It could be fake; it could be staged. He had no reason to believe anything Harry said.
Except he did; that part of his mind that couldn't understand why Harry had done a complete one-eighty was rising to the surface, making itself known. The doubt of Harry's conviction increased tenfold.
"I believe you, Harry." He nearly kept the comment to himself. If he admitted it, then he would also be admitting a deep shame he didn't want to analyse. But his pride was humbled by the hopelessness that was Harry James Potter.
Harry stopped sobbing. His blood-shot eyes connected with Dumbledore's. The Headmaster could see the profound hope that blossomed in front of him.
"R-really?" Harry whispered.
Albus gave him a grim smile. "Yes… Quite the error in judgement, indeed."
He stood up and dusted his cloak. The more he thought about it, the worse he felt about the situation. He couldn't look at Harry anymore, the whispers of his betrayal would just drown him in sorrow.
"Harry," Dumbledore said, still not looking at him, "I'm going to do what I can to get you out of here. Please give some time, as I am sure that it will not be easy proving your innocence to others."
Proving his innocence… The words attacked Albus over and over, spitting at him for his inaction. Wasn't it too late now? Hadn't the damage already been done? What possible penance can transpire from lending a hand to the one he wronged so much…
That was the question, wasn't it? Were they all wrong? If so, how could they prove it? The evidence was solid… or was it? The idea took him back to a few months ago.
"I don't give a damn about what you say! Harry is innocent!" Sirius yelled.
They were all at 12 Grimmauld Place, a few hours after Harry had been convicted.
The place had a very tense atmosphere. Sirius had gone raving mad as soon as he heard what happened. He had been in an argument with Molly and Arthur for the past five minutes.
"You weren't there, Sirius! You didn't see what we saw!" Molly yelled back. "He confessed, confessed to the entire court that he killed Fred! And you're going to stand there and defend him?!"
"You better bloody believe it, Molly!" Sirius growled. "I know my pup would never harm anybody unless it's to protect himself," he snarled at Ron and Hermione seated together on a sofa, "or his 'friends'!"
"Don't you dare say that to them! They haven't done wrong by him. He betrayed them, not the other way around!" Molly shrieked, her face pink.
Sirius wasn't looking at her anymore. He continued to stare at Hermione and Ron. "What do you two have to say?"
Ron glared at him. "… I really wished I killed him."
"Watch it, boy, that's my godson."
"Wake the bloody up, Sirius! Everyone knows that he's guilty. I was there at the trial myself. The kid is guilty! He did it. There was evidence everywhere!" Tonks chimed in, tired of the whole argument.
"Evidence?" Sirius muttered.
A lot of people sighed, glad they're were finally getting through to him.
"Yes, evidence. It was clear as day that Harry was working for Voldemort," Tonks finished.
"I agree," Alastor added. "I saw everything for myself. It was a sorry sight, I tell ya."
"Right, evidence," Sirius nodded. "Did Harry say he didn't do it?"
"Only after he was off of the Veritaserum. He mentioned something about being framed," Dumbledore said.
Sirius nodded again. "Moony?"
Remus put a hand on his shoulder. "What is it?"
"Will you help me break him out of Azkaban?"
Shocked silence was greeted by that request.
"… Let's make sure we have a solid plan."
"What?!" Hermione yelled. "I can't believe what I'm hearing! Why would you do that after what you've heard!"
"Simple, if Harry, at any point, said he didn't do it, then he didn't do it," Sirius said in all… seriousness.
"Everyone is telling you the truth!"
"No, everyone is telling me bullshit!"
"You've blinded yourself, Black," Snape sneered in the background. "You can't see anything but good old, pathetic Harry Potter."
"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't kick your arse, Sneeveles."
Snape only glared at him.
"Remus, I cannot believe that you're supporting this!"
"If Sirius believes Harry's innocent, then so do I. Harry hasn't given-"
"Evidence!" Molly yelled.
Sirius glared at her. "So what, they showed you something and you heard something and that's it? Was there cross-referencing, huh? Was this evidence paid close attention to in case of contradictions? Or did you just look at it and say, 'Yes, it had to be true!'"
"I give up with you!" Tonks snapped, walking to the rooms only floo.
"I don't give two shits what any of you think of me and Moony. If my godson is in danger, I'll go to hell and back for him! I don't give a damn about my life if Harry isn't protected. Believe what you want. I choose to believe in my godson! If you have a problem with that, then sod off, the lot of you! Come on, Moony. We're getting him out of there!"
Dumbledore sighed. That was the last time anyone would see the two alive. They had been foolish, fuelled by the frantic need to save Harry. They were sloppy and ended up murdered by Death Eaters.
The Weasleys hardly cared for the news of their deaths. Remus and Sirius were warned many times to stay away from Harry, after all. They were told over and over again that they were making a mistake. Why should anyone grieve over someone that chose not to listen? It was a cold reality that Dumbledore was dealing with.
He didn't dare bring the subject up with Harry now. The boy was too emotionally fragile. Dumbledore swiftly left, intending on doing what he should have done from the very beginning.
It had taken him at least four months more of constantly filling out paperwork that the Ministry required for him to get access to the very same Pensieve that was used in Harry's trial. He was strictly monitored by Ministry officials since he was no longer Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. But, at least, he was allowed to view Harry's memories. He had found nothing wrong. The very same memories played in his vision. He could find nothing wrong with them. They seemed very consistent, although somewhat blurry. The problem was, unlike other memories that played out at a moderate pace to give the viewer a clear image of what was going on, these memories were fast; they swiftly moved from one instant to another. It was the strangest thing he had ever seen. It made it somewhat difficult to discern the whole picture.
He could slow the memories down, but he was not allowed to manipulate anything, according to the Minister. So, he was out of luck.
Two more months of filling in paperwork and waiting for news of the next procedures, he requested complete access to Harry's memories.
"You cannot do that on your own," Fudge had said, looking at the paperwork that Albus completed.
"You can send anyone you wish to monitor me, but I need to slow the memories down to a point where I can have a clear picture."
"And how am I not sure that you won't tamper with anything?"
"If it distresses you so much, you can have someone of your choosing do it instead of me, but I have to be there to see it myself."
"Hmmm… Very well, I'll have someone manipulate the memories to your liking. The sooner we can put this to rest, the better we're off. Potter is guilty. I'm amazed that you've changed your mind about that."
"You're not the only one, Cornelius."
"Wait, Amelia, can you go back a few seconds?"
"Alright… here?"
"Yes, yes, that's perfect."
Albus had been regularly visiting the DMLE for the last week or so. He felt very conflicted that Professor McGonagall was in charge of Hogwarts with very little reasoning to it. She seemed to understand his urgency and had thankfully provided little question to the matter.
For the past week, he had been going over Harry's memories frame-by-frame with the assistance of Madam Bones. She had seemed hesitant in the beginning, citing that it was pointless trying to disprove something that had already been proven, but Albus was adamant. He was not going to give up. He at least owed that to his student.
The memory they had been thoroughly analysing concerned the graveyard incident where Cedric died. They kept repeating every moment carefully. At first, nothing looked out of place, but then…
"Do you see anything odd about Harry?" Albus asked Amelia.
The memory was frozen as Harry cast the Killing Curse behind Cedric's back. His wand was held tightly in his hand.
"No, I can't say I do."
"Move in closer to his wand," he instructed.
Amelia obeyed. She still didn't understand his fascination. "What am I looking for?"
"Harry's wand is different."
Amelia's widened eyes stared at him. "How can you tell?"
"I'm quite familiar with its structure. This one is a tad crooked and a lot pointier. Could you reverse to the moment Harry fought the Hungarian Horntail?"
The memories changed repeatedly until the very event.
"Okay, stop."
Amelia eyed the wand in the still picture.
It did not match.
This surprised Amelia a great deal. It wasn't even solid evidence that could possibly aid them. But it was an inconsistency.
"Okay, switch to the moment before Harry grabbed the cup."
She did.
"Pan to the wand."
She did.
It was the very same wand that Harry used in his fight against the Dragon.
"Right. Can you switch to the memory right after Harry and Cedric grabbed the cup?"
Amelia switched to the graveyard scene, where a drowsy Harry sat up with an equally exhausted Cedric. She immediately focused on the wand without being told to.
It didn't match the last two images.
"Finally, switch to exactly after Harry grabbed the cup again."
She did as told.
The same wand that he fought with against the Horntail.
It was something so small, but the impact was gargantuan.
An actual contradiction.
"It appears we might have been fooled, after all," Dumbledore said, a grimace on his face.
Still, this wasn't nearly enough to denounce the crimes that Harry had confessed to. But for Amelia, one contradiction equalled a potential many.
"It may not be enough for a solid case… Shall we continue?"
Albus smiled at Amelia, happy with her sudden eagerness for the truth.
"Of course… Let's deal with the murder of the six witches."
"Right."
"I want you to start the memories at the beginning of Harry's stay with his relatives. Fast forward by two times the normal speed until I tell you otherwise."
Amelia followed the instructions. The images kept changing rapidly. Even after a full ten minutes, Dumbledore did not order her to stop.
He decided to voice out something that had been bugging him.
"I've noticed something peculiar about certain memories."
"What may that be?" Amelia asked, focused on her task.
"Whenever we view memories that we're familiar with and could easily document, they're clear and quite easy to interpret. But the memories that seem inconsistent – like the graveyard incident – are blurry and hard to properly follow."
"Ah, I see. Yes, I have noticed that as well. Do you think it's significant?"
"Yes, indeed. Everything must be considered important! That particular memory was bright, like…"
"A vision?" Amelia supplied. Upon receiving a nod, she continued, "That doesn't seem very likely, the Ministry knows how to distinguish false memories from real ones… Do you not think so?"
"Highly," Dumbledore disagreed, never taking his eyes off of the rapidly switching memories. "I have mentioned before that Harry and Volde-"
"Albus-"
"I meant He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named are connected, correct?"
"You have mentioned it to the Wizengamot a few times, I remember."
Albus began pacing. "What do we all know about it? There isn't a thing like this documented in history. We don't know the connection's limitation since no one has ever had it before."
"True… Do you think that perhaps He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named might have used that connection to his advantage during Harry's trial?"
"It's… a stretch to think that. I mean, he would have to know the exact… moment."
Dumbledore's eyes widened. Voldemort could have known when each section of the trial happened using Harry's connection.
"You said that the Ministry could easily distinguish memories from true to false, correct?"
"Yes."
"But what if the connection, something none of us understand played a role in the Pensieve. Voldem-"
"Albus!"
"He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named could have used the connection, planted false memories that were too good at looking like the real thing. If Harry made up the false memory, it would be easy to see that because he made a conscious decision to make a false memory, but if He-Who-Tom! If Tom made a false memory, without Harry being conscious of the false memory, then-"
"It could easily pass as the real one," Amelia finished, looking grim. "But… we would have known of any outside influence."
"Unless the influence is done on the inside," Dumbledore said. "The connection makes Tom a part of Harry but not a part of him as well."
"I get it. That ambiguity could easily cause confusion with false memory from the real thing… It's starting to look more plausible now."
"I wish I had asked for an extension to Harry's trial," Dumbledore said suddenly and softly.
"We were all in the moment. We couldn't have known that a Pensieve could actually be wrong."
"Well, we should have tried."
"It's pointless making excuses now. We should have tried, but we didn't, I am aware. So, focus on making things right now," Amelia said.
"Yes, you absolutely right… This memory is sure taking its time."
As soon as he said that, the memory finally switched to the six witches.
"How long did that take?" Dumbledore asked.
"Twenty minutes," Amelia answered.
"When did Harry commit these murders? I'm sure it was September the fifth."
"It was."
"Wait, Amelia, stop the image."
The image showed Harry casting the Killing Curse on one of the girls. It was blurry, bright, and hard to distinguish… Another false memory.
Dread was slowly creeping in and aiming for his neck. He rubbed it absentmindedly. His mind was working overtime.
"Are memory dates still documented for proof?"
"Of course."
"Can you please get me the date that this memory signifies?"
"It will take me an hour. Since I cannot leave you alone with the Pensieve, you will have to come with me."
"Yes, of course, my apologies."
An hour later, Albus sat on a seat in Amelia's office, looking every bit the old man he was.
23 September 1995
The date felt like something equal to a punch in the face. It was the date of the trial. How could they have taken all the 'evidence' at face value? He was bitterly reminded of the time Sirius had questioned whether or not they really analysed the evidence or just ran to their own conclusions without so much as a sideways glance. What a horrible thing to happen to a man that was proving them all wrong.
Harry had no right to forgive them.
Things were slowly spiralling out of control for Albus. It was becoming clearer that Harry was framed and they all fell for it like hungry wolves.
Amelia mirrored his troubled visage, finding an increasing headache forming in the midst of the news.
"Although this serves to prove that he wasn't involved in the incidence, the Veritaserum will still be used as a counter. Given the fact that it has never failed before, it will most likely favour against Harry."
"Yes, I'm aware. Is there anything we can do about that?"
"Well, we both have memories of the case since we were the most involved."
"A Pensieve then?"
"Yes."
Albus and Amelia watched as the trial played out from their memories. They watched every moment of Harry's confession.
Immediately, Dumbledore could see a problem.
"Do people usually fight off Veritaserum to this degree? Every time Harry is being asked a question, he seems to be fighting to answer."
"Now that you mention it, it should not be possible for a mere teenager. Adults are more likely the ones to try and fight off the Veritaserum's affect because of their mature minds. Harry should have been completely under its influence."
"That still doesn't give us much," Dumbledore said.
"I remember you saying that the scar on Harry's forehead was connected with their link…"
"Yes, I remember that conversation," Dumbledore concurred.
"What if the scar gave some type of indication that something was happening? I'm sure it's a stretch…"
Oh, no, Albus thought. That's not a stretch at all.
"That's a marvellous idea, Amelia. We should get to it quickly."
"But how do we go about it? What's the right way to see if the scar is involved in some manner?"
Dumbledore thought about it. A marvellous idea struck.
"There is a way to do this… But it has to be timed."
"What do you mean?"
"There were certain instances where I noticed Harry giving profound struggle."
"You mean when he had to answer a direct question."
"Correct. Switch back to the memory where he was questioned about the six witches."
"Will do."
The memory came into view.
"Mr Potter, were you at the location that your memories indicate at the time of the murders?"
"... Mmm… ng… Y-Yesss."
It was as if time stopped. There were gasps all around the courtroom. Even Dumbledore could not keep his shock in check as he heard Harry's confession.
"Okay," the prosecutor continued. "Did you murder the six girls?"
An uncharacteristic smirk played on his devoid face. "Ngg… Oh, yesss and a lot… ngg… more than that."
"Okay, Amelia, repeat the segment."
As Amelia repeated the piece of memory, Dumbledore swiftly got to work.
"Magicae Revelio!"
Nothing out of the ordinary happened.
"I guess it was hoping for a little too much that a memory could be manipulated to such a degree," Albus sighed.
His eyes suddenly widened.
"Stop, Amelia!"
"What is it?" she asked, perplexed with his haste.
"He's… speaking."
"Well… I should guess so since he's answering questions."
"No! You don't understand. Those gaps, those pauses that he takes before answering as if he's struggling… his mouth is moving."
Amelia stared at the frozen image. Could it be? She repeated the memory again.
"Mr Potter, were you at the location that your memories indicate at the time of the murders?"
"... Mmm… ng… Y-Yesss."
It was as if time stopped. There were gasps all around the courtroom. Even Dumbledore could not keep his shock in check as he heard Harry's confession.
"Okay," the prosecutor continued. "Did you murder the six girls?"
An uncharacteristic smirk played on his devoid face. "Ngg… Oh, yesss and a lot… ngg… more than that."
There it was. She repeated the memory a total of three more times. Albus was right, Harry's mouth was moving, although inaudible.
"Alright… alright," Dumbledore said more to himself, trying to qualm the rising excitement of a new discovery. "Amelia, is it possible for you to increase the volume of the memory?"
"This will be the first time I've ever done this. Please excuse any mistakes on my part."
The first attempt nearly blew their eardrums off.
"Apologies, Albus," Amelia said with a wince, a high-pitched sound still ringing in her ears.
"It's quite fine, Amelia. May you please try again?"
Amelia nodded.
This time it was much easier. And both of them felt their mouths dry up at the result.
"Mr Potter, were you at the location that your memories indicate at the time of the murders?"
"... Mmm-No-ng-No- Y-Yesss."
It was as if time stopped. There were gasps all around the courtroom. Even Dumbledore could not keep his shock in check as he heard Harry's confession.
"Okay," the prosecutor continued. "Did you murder the six girls?"
An uncharacteristic smirk played on his devoid face. "Ng-No, I didn't-Oh, yesss and a lot-I didn't-ngg-do it-more than that."
Albus felt the wind knocked out of him.
"Ng-No, I didn't-Oh, yesss and a lot-I didn't-ngg-do it-more than that."
It was barely said above a whisper, but the words rang loudly in the Headmaster's ears.
Harry was innocent. Voldemort tricked them all.
Why didn't he ever think more about the connection before?! Albus cursed his carelessness. The whole trial, the entire trial, Harry was being manipulated. He should have seen it! How could he not?! A part of him knew that the whole thing was off from the very beginning! How could he wait until the situation became unsalvageable?!
There was no time to lose.
He and Amelia rushed to the Minister's office. But upon arriving, they noticed that he wasn't there.
"Where's Minister Fudge?!" Dumbledore asked frantically to Fudge's assistant.
"He's in the council room. The Wizengamot are having an important meeting."
"And why wasn't I informed of this meeting?" Amelia asked, astonished.
The secretary shrugged. "I'm not sure, Madam."
"There is no time to discuss this issue. Let's hurry, Amelia."
They arrived at the council room in record time. As expected, the doors were closed.
But Albus didn't let the implications of an important meeting stop him. There was a boy who was wrongfully imprisoned withering away in his cell. Truthfully, he'd be damned if anyone tried to stop him.
He barged into the room with all the authority he could muster.
"Cornelius! I have detailed evidence of Harry's innocence!"
Dumbledore felt a chill run up his spine. Years of experience had equipped him with the ability to sense trouble. It was too late, however, as a wand pointed directly next to him.
Dumbledore glanced at each side of him and was shocked at what he saw: two Death Eaters, waiting at either side of the doors.
Amelia was also held at wand-point. She could do nothing but raise her hands in surrender.
"That's wonderful to hear, Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore felt fear rising at an enormous degree as he turned to the voice that spoke.
Voldemort, the Dark Lord, sat casually in the same seat that Harry occupied during his trial. His wand was pointed squarely at his former Professor, patiently waiting.
Dumbledore noticed that all the Ministry officials in the room – including Fudge – sat on chairs nearest to Voldemort and were surrounded by Death Eaters.
How did Voldemort evade the wards? Where were the Aurors? It was impossible, unless… someone let him in.
Dumbledore was staggered in place. The Ministry was compromised all along?
"Now, now, no need to stand, old chap," Voldemort said, smiling gleefully, moving his wand in an authoritative manner. "Sit down! Take a load off and relax!"
Dumbledore followed the order and sat on an empty seat that seemed to be just for him.
Amelia followed as well, sitting in her own chair.
Voldemort graciously stood to his feet with his wand by his side now. "Lock the doors."
The Death Eaters by the entrance obeyed their master.
"I'm so glad that we finally have ample time to chat. I have been dying to speak to you all."
A lot in the room shivered at the emphasised word. The entire room was still shocked senseless that Voldemort, who Fudge had claimed was not back, was standing right in front of them.
"To… qualm any queries, yes, I'm back and feel much, much better than ever. A large part of that is owed to our very own Wizengamot. You were all perfect, brilliant. I could have never pulled off such a feat without your timely assistance. And for that, I thank you."
He bowed to them and they were shocked some more. A lot of them knew what he was referring to, but didn't quite understand. One of them being Fudge.
"What are you thanking us for?" Fudge spat, knowing full well that he was looking at death in the face.
Voldemort rose up and his red eyes widened. "Dear me. It appears that in my haste, I haven't shed some light on what happened… I'm pretty sure you have a nice picture of that, Dumbledore?"
Albus grimaced, hating it even more that Voldemort was mocking him. "Tom…"
"Say it, Dumbledore! Say what you came to say…! Oh, you can't do it on your own? Then let's do it together! Now, follow me… Harry Potter is…?"
Albus' head dropped. He stared at the ground.
Voldemort viciously forced the Headmaster to look at him with his wand. "Tat, tat, tat, Dumbledore! You need to play along! Now, come on… Harry Potter is…?"
"… Innocent."
"Yes!" cheered Voldemort, clapping appreciatively. "Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, the Defeater of Lord Voldemort, the Murderer of wizards and witches… is innocent! Hahahaha!"
Voldemort cackled loudly, it took little time for his fellow Death Eaters to join him. After a good laugh, the Dark Lord sighed blissfully.
Dumbledore felt tears start to sting the inside of his eyes. This was horrible. Tom had them at his mercy, and he was showing none of it.
"You there!" Voldemort pointed at Percy Weasley, who was scared stiff but had a quill and paper.
"Y-yes?" Percy answered.
"Are you still taking notes?" Voldemort asked in a kind voice, but the sinister smile morphed the idea.
"Y-yes, sir, every word!" Percy hastily answered when he noticed the Death Eater next to him seemed a little too wand-happy.
"Good, boy!" Voldemort turned to a woman that did not look like she fit in the room. "And you, girl?"
"Yes, sir, every word."
"That's what I like to hear! By tomorrow, the entire world will know that there is no longer a 'light' to get in the way of my goals!"
"So, you did control Harry at his trial?" Amelia said.
Voldemort whirled to her. "Ladies and gentlemen, wizards and witches of all kind, she figured it out! But wait, don't say anything more. I want to savour this moment…"
He briefly closed his eyes and opened them again after some time. He sat down on his chair and got comfortable.
"Now, I'm going to explain why my initial intimidation of the Ministry was thrown out the window the moment Harry Potter, of all people, was sent to Azkaban!"
"You see, the idea to frame young Mr Potter came to me like lightning. It was unexpected but so appealing. I had easily rigged the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts to suit my needs. I was surprised how well things played out in my favour. I had rigged the stupid cup to kill Harry in case he escaped me… I revived to full form, we duelled, and guess what? The inevitable happened. Harry had thwarted me… again! I cannot begin to tell you how frustrating that is. It's like trying to catch a mouse in an enormous manor! You'd be daft to try! So, I made plans, many, many plans. I wanted to make sure that if one didn't work, then the other would!"
"Why are you telling us this?" an official asked.
Voldemort looked at her like she had grown a second head. "Why else would I be revealing myself? I want the entire WORLD to know that their precious saviour had fallen because of me… and you."
Everyone kept their mouths shut… except for Fudge.
"We followed procedures concerning the boy. We did everything by the book! Proof was given-"
"By me-"
"By… you?"
"Haha!" Voldemort cackled at the look on the Minister's face. "Why yes! In fact, I was on trial, not Potter!"
"What?"
"The ingenious thing that is this link to him, this connection. At first, I thought very little about it. So, I'm connected to Harry Potter in a way, what of it? But then I started experimenting; started to see strengths and limitations to our… partnership. It was a wondrous experience. I had more control on the boy than I ever realised. It took a lot out of me every time, but since the boy had no knowledge of Occlumency, it was quite easy."
"What do you mean by connection?" another official asked.
"It is what Albus discussed before. The theory that was dismissed by the Minister," Amelia supplied.
Voldemort gave Fudge an incredulous gaze. "… I am amazed by your idiocy. The one fact that could have actually given you all an advantage… and you dismissed it?"
Fudge flinched at Voldemort's gaze, the biting accusation actually hitting home.
"Well, no matter. You all still did me a favour, and something like that must be acknowledged."
"Now let me continue. Ah! The trial was particularly difficult. Creating false memories for the Pensieve, as quick as possible, was not an easy feat. I had to make sure that somehow, they followed chronologically with Potter's real memories. I was shocked when I saw that you all took the bait! I mean, there were many things wrong with the memories themselves! Even I can admit that I'm not perfect! But it floored me to see things go so smoothly. I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming! Those witches who provided eye-witness testimonies work for me! You're all so easily trusting!"
There was a shocking silence as Voldemort took his time formulating his next words. It was obvious now, to all, that they had been tricked, but not tricked thoroughly. If they had taken the time to actually analyse the 'solid' evidence, then they would have noticed the inconsistencies. It was a crushing blow to some, a slap to the face for others. They had all been too arrogant and full of themselves. And now even an enemy was tearing them down piece by agonising piece.
"And the Veritaserum… Hehehehehe! You know something? Potter had actually tried to fight off my influence. Even under a potion, that boy is a nuisance! But it worked in the end. Everything played out as I'd hoped for. The world saw him as nothing more than a monster working for me. True poetic justice for all the years I had to suffer while that boy reaped the rewards."
Albus couldn't help it anymore. One lone tear escaped his left eye.
Voldemort noticed. "Don't be sad, Dumbledore! This is a good thing! It will teach the boy humility!"
He rose from his chair again. "This is what I don't understand about the 'light'. You're constantly on a cliff that has a line separating right and wrong. And one mistake, one slip, then your right easily turns into a wrong! You're also so focused on being right that you carelessly dismiss the wrong done to get there! Admit it, Dumbledore, you and I are much alike. Except, well, I'm true to which side I'm on."
Dumbledore didn't reply.
Voldemort sighed in disappointment. "And here I was, hoping for a quirky retort… How pitiful."
"Master… they have arrived."
"Good, send them in!"
The door opened and a lot of people gasped in surprise.
Harry Potter was being escorted by two Death Eaters… or being dragged by them.
"Harry?" Dumbledore choked at the sight of the boy. He was so skinny, so dirty. The rag that covered his body was loose on his bony shoulders.
Dumbledore cursed his carelessness again. In the time he had been determined to prove Harry's innocence, he hadn't even bothered to check up on him. Now here Harry was, looking barely alive. His eyes were empty, devoid of any life.
Most in the room visibly cringed when they saw drool carelessly escaping Harry's partially opened mouth. Words couldn't describe how much it ate at them to see an innocent boy in that state… from their doing.
"Ah! Harry, Harry, I hope my subordinates made your transition comfortable?" Voldemort said.
Harry didn't even flinch. He just stared ahead of him.
"Tsk, Harry! Nothing to say? Where did all that Gryffindor bravery go?! Very, very disappointing, Harry," Voldemort admonished.
"Oh Merlin!" someone sobbed out. The sight too much for them.
"So, Harry," Voldemort began casually, "since you've escaped from prison, you are now a wanted fugitive! Of course, you are innocent, but the proper procedures weren't followed to release you! Another thing to thank the 'light' for, hey?"
Winces were all around.
"Why?" Albus whispered.
"Hmm… Did you say something?" Voldemort asked.
"Why, Tom? He's just a boy."
Voldemort staggered, looking startled. "He's just a boy? A BOY?! The same BOY that this world hails as a hero? The same BOY that thwarted me for as long as I can remember? The same BOY in your prophecy? The BOY that has a title people worship?! Don't you dare use that pathetic ideology on me! This is no mere boy! Your prophecy made sure of that! The wizarding world made sure of that!"
He faced Harry again. "So, Harry, you and I have a duel that was never finished! According to my intel, the Ministry did not snap your wand. That's good then."
He pointed his wand at an official. "Retrieve it."
"Yes!" she yelped.
He looked at a Death Eater. "Follow her. Kill her if she does not do what she's told."
As the two left the room, Voldemort turned to a perplexed room. "Your Aurors are otherwise… preoccupied. No one will be coming to your safety."
He sat down and pointed to the Death Eaters holding Harry up. "Give the poor lad a seat. He looks horrendous."
Harry's body lolled to the left of his seat.
"Do you want anything to drink? Hm? Juice? Butterbeer?" Voldemort asked.
Harry said nothing, looking at his feet.
"You know, Harry, I don't think you've realised just how much I've hated you. I wanted you broken so badly that I was willing to go through all these theatrics, just to see your hopelessness up close. Now that it's happened, I dare say I feel empty inside. It feels like something died within me along with your innocence. I'm not sure what the proper word is, but I feel like I'm missing something that used to be there. Drive, maybe?"
Voldemort talked as if Harry was listening. Then the wand came.
It was difficult to get Harry to hold it, but the Death Eaters managed.
Once Voldemort deemed him ready, they each stood opposite one another.
"Please, Tom! He's isn't ready for something like this!"
Voldemort ignored Dumbledore. "Alright, Harry, you know the rules. First, we bow."
He bowed and forced Harry to do the same.
"Then raise our wands."
They did so.
"And now let's begin."
"Tom, no!" Dumbledore screamed.
"Tom this, Tom that. I should kill you for your disrespect, but no, I want you to watch. I want you and everyone else to know that no prophecy can stop me… Ready, Harry?"
No response.
"Excellent… Avada Kedavra!"
"No!"
The spell hit him fully. Harry didn't try to dodge it. He didn't move. He was blown away by the force of the Killing Curse and skidded to a stop a few feet away from where he used to be.
He was prone, unmoving. He looked dead.
It was over, in more ways than one.
Voldemort breathed in noisily and exhaled in the same fashion. His eyes betrayed surprise.
"I… did it. I finally got rid of the thorn in my side."
He turned to the crowd. "Look! Look at him! He's gone! And you're all equally to blame!"
Another hearty laugh filled the room.
Voldemort began pacing. "This is so excellent! I… feel rejuvenated! Now no one is going to stop me."
Dumbledore tried going for his wand, but another wand that dug in his cheek forced him to reconsider.
"I bet you're wondering why wanted to do everything here," Voldemort said. "Simple, I wanted to kill Harry in front of you all, so that when the news broke out that Harry Potter was not only innocent but killed thanks to the Ministry's incompetence, there would be… international retribution."
Fudge gasped in horror, knowing exactly where Voldemort was headed.
"That's right, you stupid fool. The name Harry Potter is recognised worldwide! As soon as people find out what you've done, to someone that's globally revered, you will be ruined. The Ministry as a whole will be called into question… It will be utter chaos… And while all this is happening… HeheheheHAHAHA!"
Voldemort raised his wand. "I won't kill any of you yet. It will much more entertaining watching you destroy yourselves. Have a good day! I know I definitely will!"
With that, he apparated along with his Death Eaters.
Amelia immediately got to work. "Secure the Ministry! Contact the Auror Office and make sure we can capture at least one Death Eater!"
She looked down and noticed that Albus had yet to look away from Harry.
Her heart went out to him.
"I'm truly sorry, Albus."
All the chaos was deaf to Albus. He couldn't focus on anything but Harry. He failed… He failed. He failed. He failed. He-
Cough! Cough! Cough!
Harry groaned in discomfort. He struggled to sit upright. His whole body was screaming at the exertion.
He cautiously looked around, finding it an immensely difficult task.
Everyone had stopped what they were doing and looked at him in stunned silence.
Harry's body shook. There was a look in his eye that shocked everyone: complete terror.
Amelia recognised the signs. "Albus, he's starting to panic!"
Harry grabbed his head in agony.
Dumbledore was next to him in the next instant.
"Harry! Harry! Are you alright!" he asked frantically.
Harry cringed at the shout and whimpered, visibly trembling worse. It forced Albus to relax.
"I'm sorry, Harry. Are you alright?" Dumbledore said more gently.
But Harry either couldn't hear him or chose not to listen. He kept shaking violently; his eyes were shut tightly and he bit the bottom of his lip.
Albus immediately tried to cover Harry up with his cloak, but he never got the chance.
Harry vanished. There wasn't a hint of apparition involved. He was just simply gone.
Dumbledore only looked at the floor in complete surprise.
"Did he apparate?!" Amelia asked.
"I… don't know. There was no sound. But that's not the issue right now."
"What should we do then?"
His earlier distress left him. Harry had to have apparated. He had to be somewhere around. "We need to search for him immediately! Tom cast the curse but didn't kill him. We have to find him before Tom realises he's still alive!"
They couldn't underestimate the name Voldemort anymore. The man was truly evil at its core.
"I'll get right on it!" Amelia replied. She turned to an official right next to her. "Find Shaklebolt! Tell him to bring me his best tracking team!"
"Yes, Madam!"
Dumbledore was already leaving.
"Do you have any ideas where to start, Albus?" Amelia called after him.
"No, but I need to hurry and inform the Order of what happened. Perhaps they may provide some help as to finding him."
Every bit of guilt and shame was put aside and urgency was the only thing left in its wake. There was no time to think; there was no time for indecision. They needed to save him. They couldn't afford to fail him this time. He shouldn't forgive any of them. But they owed it to him to keep him safe... Safe, that word had little meaning now.
When Albus died, he hoped that James, Lily, Sirius and Remus would find it in their hearts to forgive him.
He grimaced as he realised that the Weasleys were not going to take the news well. He was sure that they would head to the Ministry demanding blood. But unfortunately, they were equally to blame for this whole mess. He had tried to get them to see reason during his investigation, but they weren't willing to listen to his speculations that Harry might be innocent. No, they wanted solidity, like they believed that there was none. Well, once they realised what they had done, it will be their own problem to deal with. They could blame everyone else for as long as they wanted, but if they weren't ready to take responsible action for their involvement, then Albus felt that they honestly didn't deserve to be near Harry at all.
Merlin, what an awful world he lived in.
… No one noticed that Harry's wand was left behind.
Petunia was extremely angry that someone had the gall to interrupt her family's dinner. She was going to give that person a swift talking to.
"How dare…" She swung the door open in her tirade, but the words died in her throat.
Harry collapsed just mere inches from his aunt's feet.
Petunia could not hold back the horrified gasp that escaped her throat.
It was Harry alright, looking anything but the boy she remembered.
At over 10000 words, I'll end it here for now. Well, there you go. This is aimed to be a lot more thought out than the original story. I can't even tell you of the many headaches I dealt with trying to figure out what fit where, but through persistence and a never-say-die attitude, it's done! Three more chapters are already finished as well, but I don't want to post them all at the same just to receive like one review; that would just be maddening to me. So, tell me what you think. I really want to know. Like the first story, I found that talking to reviewers was really rewarding in understanding their perspectives on something. It was very enriching, so I want to hear more from you, guys!"
Until next time, ciao.