Drip, Drip, Drip, Drip. Water fell from the black window. The prisoner watched as a small spider crawled up the wall. Fast as lightning, a pale, skinny hand shot out, grabbing the spider. He clutched it, then opened his hand, to let the scared and confused spider out. Killing innocent insects was not his style

Harry Potter watched as the black spider quickly got away from him.

"You're not alone in wanting to leave me, little spider." He spoke, watching the small spider crawl through a crack in the window, and out to the pouring rain. With a sudden movement, Harry turned his head to the door of his cell. His well trained ears could hear the jingling of the keys, and the steps and murmurs of a small group of people, the clang of a metal door opening and closing, the voices growing distant. Harry sighed. It probably wasn't for him, no one had come to see him in a very long time. He continued to listen, counting the solitary steps as a person walked down the prison hallway, slowly coming closer to his cell. He looked away, as habit, as the person walked by his cell. He refused to look up as people walked by, for the whispers of "That's the Harry Potter." and the attempts to see him had always bothered him. Even in prison. He stopped to look up, as his light from the hallway was darkened by a shadow. The gatekeeper of his hallway, Gerard. The Dementors were long gone, have been replaced by a series of guards and keepers. As far as Harry knew, he was Gerard's only subject.

"There are some people to see you, Mr Potter." Gerard spoke. Harry tried and failed at keeping the look of surprise off his face. He'd been here for 26 years an had never once had a visitor. Harry picked himself, slowly off the ground of the floor. He shook his black hair, now almost to his shoulders, out of his eyes, before whipping some of the grime off his face and on to the sleeve of his black prison jumper. Gerard held the door open for Harry to step through, holding in his hands a pair of plain looking hand cuffs. Gerard snapped them on, and they glowed blue before disappearing. These cuffs allowed Harry to use his hands, but restricted his movements: he would never be able to be more then five feet away from Gerard, and if he tried to run, he would be electrocuted. Harry was led to the "Visitor's room" to see who had come to see him after all these year. Inside, sitting in chairs around a table, was a group he recognized, albeit much older then he remembered: Dumbledore, McGonagall, Mr Weasly, Tonks, Lupin, Hermione and Ron.

Gerard let him into the visitors room, while Harry remained silent. He looked from one person to the other, not saying a word, while the cuffs were removed, and Harry took a seat at the front of the table, and Gerard swiftly cuffed him in. They took no chances at Azkaban.

Albus Dumbledore looked as though the twenty-six years had actually been longer. His skin sagged, his hair lacked the shine Harry remembered from his youth. Dumbledore nodded at Harry, catching his eyes. Harry glared back in return.

"And the point of this is?" Harry asked, nonchalantly to the group of people sitting in front of him. It had been them who had let him down, who had convicted him despite his innocence. He was not impressed, even twenty-six years later. Harry Potter, turns out, could hold a grudge.

"Uh, yes, Mr Potter." Dumbledore said with a smile that Harry did not return. "Whether you were aware of this fact or not, in three day's time, you are a free man. You have been imprisoned here for almost thirty years, and we feel that you are free to go." Harry snorted a laugh.

"I best some don't think I should be free to go." he said, glancing over at his former best friends. Ron and Hermione were holding hands, and both attempted a smile.

"Well, we do believe you should." Ron said. "I"m sorry. I'm not sure how to go about this, but I'm sorry." Ron held out his hand for Harry to shake. Harry looked down at Ron's hands, obviously those of someone who worked daily with his hands, calluses and blisters covered them. Harry looked him in the eyes, not touching the hand held out to him.

"Can you ever forgive me for killing Voldemort? Because thats a murder I will admit too." Ron dropped his hand, looking ashamed. Harry glanced around again, at the now silent group.

"I doubt if I will ever forgive you guys. You were my friends, my family, and you let me down in my time of need. You chose to believe not what I was saying, not what your so-called best friend was saying, but what was being manipulated into making me look bad. I thought you would fight for me, that you would side with me, knowing that I couldn't kill someone. But you didn't. Except..." Harry looked from one set of eyes to the nest, finally stopping on Nymphadora Tonks. She had been one of the few who had been on his side through it all, who had cried when he was imprisoned, who had believed in him. He smiled lightly at her, Harry's first smile in almost thirty years.

"Oh Tonks. Thank you. And please give my thanks to Ginny as well. Tell her I intend to keep my promise. She'll understand." He turned back to the others.

"I don't care to spend much more time with you." And with a nod to Gerard, he was uncuffed and led out of the room, without so much as a glance back.

----

Harry quickly looked around the little cell that he had called home for the last 26 years. It was not much, nor very comfortable, but it was his. It was a room that he knew by heart: from the ten steps it took to get from the cell door to the back wall; the simple book shelve built into the walls, the small toilet, and most of all, the small, uncomfortable bed that he had slept on, dreaming of his freedom, and of the truth. Harry had added small things along his stay here, including a small hand crafted chair and a small box on top of the shelve. He pulled the box down, and grabbed the most important thing in the world.

It was a small picture frame. In it was a picture of three people. Harry gazed over each of them, smiling. The first person in the photo was a pretty, red headed woman, in her late teens to early twenties. Her hair was pulled up in a high pony tail, showing off her high cheek bones, and pleasant smile. Her golden eyes lit up as she saw him and she waved. The second person, a man with short, dark hair, and green eyes, shook his head at the man Harry had become. Last of all, a young boy maybe three, ran into the frame, jumping up into the arms of the man. The picture man swung around the boy. The little boy giggled in delight, while both parents grinned.

Wet tears fell down Harry's face as he gazed at his family. Most people would assume that the picture was of the Original Potter family, but it was not. This was Harry's family. The young boy, named James, had all of the Potter boy looks, but he had his mother's golden eyes. This was his family. Harry, Ginny and James Potter.

Harry wiped away the tears. Ginny had promised to wait for him, had promised that she would hold her love for him.

Harry hoped that she had kept her promise, because he had kept his. He had never stopped loving her. He thought of her and James every day, had never let go of the hope of seeing them again. He had made her promise to not come see him, not come see the man he had become. But now... things had changed. Harry put the photo back in the box, and stuffed in on the shelve. He realized that he would need to pack his stuff-with a snort, as he looked around at the lack of items in his cell-before he left in two days time. He would do that later, choosing instead to lay on his bed, interchanging between sleep and thinking.

Two days passed quickly, and soon there were footsteps echoing through the halls of Azkaban again. Gerard came and opened the door to Harry's cell, just as he finished packing his small sack (actually his transfigured washcloth. Harry's wandless magic had come in handy throughout his stay here)

Harry stood up. 26 years of his life were packed up in the little bag. Harry had been 20 when he was convicted. It seemed sad to know that his whole life fit in to a bag on his back. Now 46, he didn't look like he was that old, he looked much older. Lines crinkled his face, and the grime he was sure, would never come off.

Harry sighed thinking about his self. He picked up his bag, and strode determined out of the cell. He turned around before Gerard could, and closed the door to his former cell, for the last time.

After a series of twists, turns, hallways and stairs, Gerard led Harry into a little room It was a small room, a desk and a chair was all of the furniture. Harry took a seat at the chair, and Gerard told him that he would be going to get his wand and discharge papers, and soon Harry would be on his way. Three hours passed before Gerard came back into the room, still uneasy with being around Harry, tried not to look him in the eyes.

"Uh, Mr Potter?" He asked. Harry sarcastically looked around then acted surprised to find no one there. Gerard blushed at this. "Umm... it seems that your wand has gone missing. It is not in the files, were we keep everyone ever to come into Azkaban wand's. I looked in some files, and there is none saying that your wand had been destroyed. It seems that a few years back, your wand was taken by Albus Dumbledore's orders to be taken into the Ministry Museum in the department of Un-natural Human Beings. Harry had no physical reaction, but the air between the two men crackled with magic. Harry's anger could be felt in the air.

"When you are done here, I can authorize a Portkey so that you can go to the Museum. I'm not sure what it will do, but you could ask for it back? Gerard suggested. Harry nodded. Gerard gave him a handful of papers to sign. Harry filled them out in a few minutes, and was ready to go on his way. Harry picked up the canvas bag. He stepped out side the door. The only thing stopping him and freedom was a long hall way. The hall looked even bigger then it was, because Harry was afraid. The Boy-Who-Lived-Twice-Killed-You-Know-Who realized he was terrified of what was our there. Life had seemed so... complacent while in jail, and now he knew he would be hit by a ton of things, just like it used to be.

Harry remembered something that some one had told him once(he had his money on Dumbledore.). "When in doubt, run away. When scared, run fast." He broke out into a jog, then sped up to a full run. He was almost there. 15 feet. 10 feet. 9, 8, 7,6,5- He stopped.

Harry turned around as fast as possible, and ran back to the room he had been in, where Gerard still was, locking the doors.

"Wait!" he cried, making Gerard jump a good distance in the air, and turn around shocked.

"Did you say that you keep all of the wands of the people ever in here?"

When the keeper nodded, Harry's eyes lit up.

"Can I get someone's wand? I know that they will never return for it! Please, I'll pay you. I'll give you anything you want. You name it, I'll get it." Harry pleaded.

"Hold it Mr. Potter. If you want the wand, you can take the wand, as long as you get out of here!" Gerard said, still trying to equalize his heartbeat.

Harry smiled.

"I want Sirius Black's wand" .

Harry watched as Gerard fainted at his feet.