Dumbledore sat as his desk quietly. The school was silent around him: it had been shut down barely a year after Harry's incarceration. By now, children were either hidden away or right out on the frontline, giving the other children a reason to hide. Most of Slytherin House had stayed loyal, but there were a few here and there that turned. Voldemort surprisingly had the most support from schools like Durmstrang in Austria, and Alcatraz Academy in the United States. Dumbledore smiled to himself: Hogwarts remained loyal. But-- he bit his cheek at the thought--they hadn't always remained loyal: there was still Harry Potter to think of. Poor boy: the ministries would be coming for him when they realized that they had to release Harry Potter from Azkaban. It wouldn't be long now at all.
No, it wouldn't be long until they realized that their only hope was the little boy they had thrown to the darkness. And what could be worse? Everyone in the courtroom knew of Harry's deep fear of dementors: how he relived his parent's death every time. But, murderers couldn't be allowed to return to Hogwarts, couldn't go to another prison without those foul creatures. No: the Ministry sentenced a fourteen year old to the cruelest torture; his own memories.
The memories would be more inventive than anything the Ministry could think up.
Harry was in his cell again. He was always in his cell. And his cell was always in him. The cool dampness permeating off the cold stone sunk into his bones. His body shivered as the rain and foam from the waves blew into his cell. Why does it always rain on me? Harry scratched absentmindedly at a scab on his wrist. The broken dish in the corner gave him both momentary comfort and more scabs to pick. Somehow, when his skin felt like it was crawling, the sharp edge of the bowl seemed to help. He didn't know why, but it made the itch go away.
Harry smiled out his window at the blurry shapes gliding by. Without his glasses on, everything seemed blurry. Oh well, at least the dementors would always be there for him. As his thoughts turned to the world that had betrayed him, Harry growled deeply in his throat. They just tossed him aside. No truth serum, and barely even a trial. Sirius had shook his head at the boy, convinced that his godson had finally gone dark. Maybe if he had been there for him, this wouldn't have happened? Sirius always felt guilty about that…And why shouldn't he! His only godson had been thrown to the wolves! Well…maybe not the wolves: Remus had always been nice to him. Harry had been thrown to the cloaks…Harry giggled at the thought…and now they had nothing to show for it. A damp little Boy-Who-Lived, curled up in the deep darkness of his cell, hidden away on an island for a crime he didn't commit. Wait…he didn't really kill Cedric, did he? Harry couldn't remember all the facts that well anymore. All he knew was that, if they came for him, they would have much more than they bargained for. This little lion had some bite to it now. Harry shook his head again. Why was he thinking of lions? Lions lived in Africa and in zoos, not in Scotland on island prisons. Harry looked out the bars again at the floating dementors. It must be nice to fly, to be able to escape when you want to. But then again, aren't the dementors as trapped as I am? Where else could they go if there was no Azkaban? He decided to stop making the dementors save him, and decided to study them instead. He crawled to the corner of his cell and retrieved his cracked glasses. The world outside slid into focus, and the small boy sat at the bars and watched the dementors until it was too dark to see anymore.
Even when he couldn't see them anymore, Harry could feel them as they slid past. Curls of fear unraveled in his stomach, weighing him down with depression. The fear seemed to settle in him like a rock: it was heavy and had sharp edges that poked at him from the inside out. It felt like he'd swallowed broken glass. In the back of his mind, he heard screams, but he wasn't sure if they were his or his mother's. Whoever was screaming, they were very loud and disruptive. All he wanted to do was study the dementors; was that too much to ask?
The flames in the grate turned emerald as someone fire-called him. Inside the fireplace, the Chief of Aurors looked out at him.
"Albus, they've called for me. They're letting Harry out." The man whispered. Dumbledore looked down at the man in his fireplace and set down the cup of tea he'd been drinking.
"Come on through then, Sirius. It's time we faced this."
As they left the office, Albus' tealeaves slid down to the bottom of the cup. What had been a fortune of happiness and prosperity became a bleak reading of destiny and destruction. Only Fawkes saw the truth of it, and pearly tears slid down his beak at the thought of what was to come.
Dumbledore looked at the man kindly. The three years that Harry had been in Azkaban had not been kind to Sirius Black. His black hair was tangled and matted. A few day's growth was sprouting on his chin after Sirius had once again forgone shaving. Even his robes were black. The man looked pale and sickly, and startlingly, like the man he had made fun of while in Hogwarts. What had they called him then? Snivellus? Sirius looked even worse than Severus now; at least Severus still cared.
Dumbledore unsheathed his wand and tapped one of his lemon drops. A mumbled 'Portus', and he and Sirius where sent spinning off to Azkaban. As they landed, Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy landed next to them. They had taken a portkey at the Ministry, and were there to examine Harry. After years of enmity, the two men had a grudging respect for each other. They followed Dumbledore to one of the small boats at the edge of the lake and Arthur and Lucius started rowing them toward the prison. A dementor at the gates looked down at them. Dumbledore tried to look away, but he was drawn back to the darkness inside the hood of the cloak. He shivered, and turned away to look out at the shore. Lucius sighed and looked at the Creature.
"We're here to retrieve the Potter boy, he's in cell number 976859. His ID number is P976859-14." The Dementor nodded and turned to lead them into the prison. Sirius grew pale as they passed through the heavy wrought-iron gates. Memories of his own days in Azkaban flitted at the edge of his mind, and from far off, he could hear someone laughing. Who in Hades could laugh in Azkaban? Well, Sirius conceded, who but his cousin Bella? The four men followed the creature deep into the prison and closer to the laughing. The walls dripped and they splashed through puddles as the laughter got even louder.
Lucius was the first to spot him. Harry was sitting in the middle of his cell, laughing as dementors swooped in and out around him. One of the dementors reached out with a scaly hand and caressed the boy's cheek before leaving the cell again. Another dementor slid in through the bars at the back of the cell and covered him with his cloak as Harry started to shiver again. The small boy smiled up at the dark hood above him and nodded. The dementor nodded back at Harry and sank into the floor. By now, there were only about ten dementors left. Dumbledore spelled the door open quickly and ran inside. Harry faced him and Albus gasped at the look in his eyes. His bright green eyes had dulled to a milky gray and tears swam in them freely. In the four years that he had known him before his imprisonment, Albus had never seen Harry cry, and his heart ached at the thought of what could make the small boy this emotional. Arthur screamed hoarsely, and Harry glared at him unseeingly. He quirked his head to the side and looked at the Dementor behind him. Dumbledore stepped forward again and the dementors hissed at him. They surrounded Harry and flew tightly together, keeping Dumbledore away from him. Harry started laughing again and Dumbledore aimed his wand at the dementors.
"Get away from him! He is free to go: the ministry needs him." The dementors stopped and turned as one to stare at him. One of them groaned briefly and spoke quietly.
"Your ministry might need him, but he has no need for your ministry. He belongs to us now." The dementor said in a groan. Its voice sounded like fog creeping over a graveyard, or as if they were listening from underwater. Lucius looked back and forth between Dumbledore and the dementor. The old man shook his head angrily and his eyes shone with fury.
"No! He is needed!" he shouted. The dementor slid off its hood and looked at him with dark gray eyes. As the men looked between him and Harry, they were startled at how much they resembled each other. Its skin was tight to the skull, and every bone was outlined. High cheekbones and a thin nose made the creature appear regal. Sharp teeth reflected the light from Arthur's wand as the dementor grinned. Its light gray skin seemed to turn darker as the shadows in the room leapt and danced around them. Harry's shadow on the floor split in two and one of them ran to stand with the dementors. The other shadow curled into a ball and started rocking in place. Harry sat still and looked up at the unhooded dementor. The dementor nodded to him and its smile grew wider.
"You say that he is needed, but where were you when he was the one in need? Your boy savior is no more. He is one of us now." The dementor pulled its hood back on, and the remaining dementors flew faster than before around him. Harry stood up and smiled at them. Harry opened his mouth and whispered quietly.
"Goodbye. Let this be remembered as the day your savior forsake you as you forsook him. You know…I think I was innocent…I can't quite remember everything anymore. But know this: I will not fight for you. You have none to blame but yourselves."
The four men looked on in horror as the dementor that had spoken to them glided to Harry. Between the flying dementors, they caught glimpses of what was happening. The boy tipped his head back and the dementor lowered its hood to cover both of their faces. Sirius screamed as Harry's body arched painfully, then grew slack and slid to the floor. The dementors stopped spinning around them and sank into the floor. The only dementor left in the cell nodded to them and glided to the back of the cell and through the bars.
"You may take him now, but be warned that he will not thank you for it." Sirius ran forward and slid his arms under his godson. The boy was light enough that he carried him out of the cell easily as Arthur led the way back to the boat. Lucius looked on grimly as they loaded him into the boat and rowed back to shore quickly. Albus seized Harry by the front of his tattered robes and they spun back to Hogwarts with a whispered portkey.