Birth of a Nightmare Man
Summary: Prequel to The Nightmare Man. How did Harry Potter become a feared lord of ancient times? Here we'll see the start of it.
Pairing/s: None.
Warnings: Violence, gore, evil!Harry and Twisted!Harry. Seriously, for quite a bit he's not friendly at all with humans. Be warned.
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this or any other fanfiction.
-o-
Thank you all for the reviews! Sorry if it's a bit late, a lot of other things have been going on.
Enjoy this chapter.
-o-
Chapter Three
Summer never reached inside the prison, and Harry could only stare out at the sea to see the sun. If he stretched out an arm he might get the sun's warmth on his hand for maybe a few minutes a day. He was starting to look rather pale.
One day he was looking outside when he heard someone stop at his cell. He only got one regular visitor and George came in the afternoon, not this early so Harry turned around. He expected perhaps Albus Dumbledore, having his grandfatherly look that Harry had not trusted since the day Dumbledore threw him into Azkaban.
But it wasn't Albus. It was Molly Weasley, holding a package. Harry wondered for a moment if he was hallucinating. Why on Earth would she come to the prison, when George had told him she was against George visiting?
"Mrs Weasley?" he said softly and stepped down from the bed he had hauled over to the window.
There it was, just the slightest flinch and she wasn't looking into his eyes. She was nervous, perhaps even terrified. Of what? Him? Nineteen-year old Harry Potter with no magic, tall and gaunt? Well, he would turn twenty soon. That was something he never expected when he was younger, to celebrate his birthdays in Azkaban.
"Hello, Harry," she said eventually. "I'm guessing you never expected me?"
"No. I didn't. Is there something wrong with George?"
"Oh no, nothing's wrong with him, dear. George's just fine, don't you worry."
"Then why are you here, Mrs Weasley?"
"I just wanted you to know… oh, how we have been led astray by Albus. I really thought he wanted what was best for you."
Something was wrong but Harry couldn't place it. She was still nervous, wouldn't look into his eyes but her words… why was she saying that?
"I guess George was right all along. The Ministry is working to get you out, dear, but I thought… well, this is a bit of a peace-offering from me and Arthur. I know it won't make up for all these years but it's a start, isn't it?"
She set the package down on the floor in front of his cell. Harry didn't move, didn't know what to think of her actions.
"I better be off then. The Minister is questioning us all, preparing for a new trial. Better late than never, right?"
"Yes. Better late than never."
He watched her leave and waited for a bit before taking the package. He unwrapped it and found some Hogsmeade chocolate and a knitted scarf. Her knitting he supposed. He took one of the sweets and unwrapped it before popping it into his mouth.
The moment he bit down a bitter taste filled his mouth and he spit it out. Too late. Something foul spread through his mouth and down his throat. He backed away, to the bed but collapsed before that.
"Oi, Potter? You alright?"
Rabastan's voice, but Harry couldn't answer. His mouth and throat was burning.
Molly freaking Weasley had just poisoned him, and he didn't know whether to feel shock or rage at that. One thing was for certain though; Harry was the great bit idiot who just assume she wouldn't do something like that! She wouldn't look him in the eyes, why, why, why?!
…
Albus Dumbledore hadn't looked him in the eyes in fifth year, fearing Voldemort would look back at him. Did she honestly think…? Did Albus honestly think…?
Harry gagged but could barely breathe anymore.
They thought he was Voldemort. Molly Weasley never intended to poison him, Harry Potter but Voldemort. She must think… or rather, someone let her think that Voldemort had taken over, must be… Albus said so himself, he thought Voldemort was still inside of Harry. Waiting to take command perhaps. Why couldn't they just ask Harry, see into him that Voldemort was dead for real?!
That didn't make Harry any less angry. He began to shake as froth came out of his mouth. Rabastan was shouting now but no guards came. Only the Dementors. They howled as they came into his cell. Harry felt his body be picked up and the cold set in.
The pain dug into his gut and stayed there, like a rusty knife slowly being turned around in an already infested wound. He couldn't even scream and gradually the world grew dark around him.
-o-
Then he woke up to shivers and a bad taste in his mouth. He coughed as he sat up, blinking slowly.
"Oi, Potter, you alive?!"
Harry got up and then fell down, crawled over to the bars of the cell and propped himself up against them. Rabastan sagged against his own and said:
"Blimey, you scared the life out of me!"
"Wha…?"
"These guards ain't any good," Rabastan growled out. "I've been trying to tell them something was wrong for the last three days but they didn't even go into your cell!"
"Three days?"
"Yeah."
"Haven't George… been by?"
"No, that's the thing. No visitors, nothing."
Harry clawed at his throat and coughed up some blood mixed with phlegm.
"No one said… what's going on?"
"Nothing, not a single bloody word. You alright?"
"I'm not dead, am I?"
"That woman is some scary lady," Rabastan said.
"Yeah, I keep forgetting she killed Bellatrix in cold blood… it's those rosy cheeks, I swear, and that sweet voice… she could fool anyone…"
"But you're alright now?" Rabastan demanded to know.
Was he alright? Apparently so.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry replied. "No one said why there are no visitors?"
"We're all killers in here, according to them. They don't tell us shit, Potter."
Great.
-o-
Harry James Potter's re-trial was put on ice as the Ministry was shook by a dark rebellion. Amelia Bones refused the help of the Order, which made Albus Dumbledore furious. Didn't she know he had good people, people who could help her?
During these hectic times Molly came to Albus and told him what she had done.
"It's not Harry anymore, I'm sure of it!" Molly said.
"Molly, I've been trying to get Harry to a secure location…"
"It's not Harry! I saw it, with my own eyes! You want to think it's Harry in that cell, but his eyes… they aren't red but I know it's You-Know-Who in there. Harry's gone, Albus, I could feel it standing there and seeing him."
"Are you sure, Molly?"
"Yes!" Molly replied. "I didn't need you to tell me that. Harry's not there anymore, my sweet Harry is gone, Albus. I didn't look into You-Know-Who's eyes, I didn't let him know I knew what was going on."
"But poison, Molly?"
"I did the right thing," she said. "Only he didn't die."
"What?"
"There have been no reports of Aurors bringing out a dead body from Azkaban, or even a record that someone has died. Albus, You-Know-Who could survive that poison but Harry couldn't."
Albus sat in his chair to think it all over. Molly had done this without his permission, but she had done it for the love of her son George, who had already lost his twin brother to that dark war. The rebellion put a stop to all visitors at Azkaban, and not a moment too soon.
He had finished the house that would be Harry's safe-haven but if Harry was truly gone… then there was no point. No point in that house, no point in making him fall in love with Ginny and have him think he'd have a life.
"I didn't try to kill Harry, Albus," Molly said and sat down opposite of him. "I would never even consider it. He was such a sweet boy, Albus. I couldn't stand the thought of You-Know-Who using his body, manipulating all of us… manipulating my George."
"I will look into it, Molly. Azkaban is known to sometimes bury their dead without telling anyone."
"I'm sure of it. I didn't kill Harry; I tried to kill You-Know-Who."
Albus had a hard time getting anything out of the Minister. She was busy protecting people against raids that left villages burning. She captured dark wizards and witches who still believed in Voldemort, and gave permission to kill them instead of locking them up.
But finally he got what he needed; Harry James Potter was confirmed still alive and as healthy as he could be in Azkaban. The poison Molly had put in those sweets would kill a fully grown wizard, not to mention an underweight young man.
Then she was right. If he had consumed the sweets, even just one bit, and still lived, then it possibly couldn't be Harry inside.
Was Harry dead? Had Voldemort taken him over? Albus scarcely dared to believe it. But if Voldemort had taken over the body, then they stood a fighting chance. Harry's body must be weak now, and he had no access to magic, even if he were to be given his wand back.
The rebels would be stopped, at any means, and then Albus would investigate to see if Harry James Potter truly had died, the Dark Lord now in control of the body.
-o-
Harry had no idea how he recovered from whatever Molly Weasley had put in those chocolate pieces, but they were gone when his head had cleared and his body stopped shaking like crazy.
The guards hardly came by the cells anymore and the Dementors were stationed outside to keep rebels away. Rabastan and Harry weren't the only ones who could care less about it. Harry just wanted George back, or hear anything about the re-trial. Not that he expected it to be soon considering what the Ministry had to deal with at the moment.
Back to the boring, long days of just sitting there. He played chess against himself, climbed up to see the outside world from a window with thick bars on it, eat just enough to not starve himself and gag at the filthy water they were given to drink. The Dementors snuck him a cup of clean water whenever they could.
Summer passed and autumn arrived, a cold one that made Azkaban practically freeze up. Harry had his blankets and spent most of the time wrapped up in them, counting days and then forgetting them. He was getting sick again, and now there probably wouldn't be any potions to help him.
He managed to teach one Dementor how to play chess. That same Dementor kept coming back every day and spent hours in his cell, curling up on the other side of the cot as they played Muggle chess, Harry normally winning because the Dementor didn't want to defeat him.
"Honestly, you can try harder. I won't get angry if you win," he tried to argue one day between coughs.
The Dementor seemed more distressed about the coughs and kept waving its hands around. Then it screeched and another Dementor came. Harry heard some of the words, something about a potion and he looked from one Dementor to the other.
"What are you two doing?" he asked.
"Potter, tell your damn Dementors to keep it quiet!"
"They're not mine, Rabastan, shut up."
"They might as well be," Rabastan groaned from his cell. "Just… make them stop with that screeching."
"Alright, fine! You two, stop being so loud."
They quieted down and one of them floated away. The other returned and petted Harry's hair.
The darkness came quickly and the corridor was ill lit but Harry saw the Dementor from before return with a potion in its hands, along with a note.
"You went to George?" he rasped.
The note said little, only that George was fine and if you get an infection and die as a result I'll bloody resurrect you to kill you myself, you idiot. Stay in your blankets and keep warm. The Dementors will come for new potions, and I'll keep myself updated about your trial.
- G
Harry grinned and downed the potion. Alright, so he was wrong about not getting any potions. He had forgotten his most loyal friends, and how far they would go to keep him healthy and safe. If he asked them, the Dementors would probably break him out of Azkaban but Harry didn't fancy being a wanted criminal. Albus would take that chance, surely, to paint Harry as dangerous if he escaped.
No, he would sit bundled up and wait for his trial. Wait for his freedom.
Tbc…
Again, short chapter, I know.
Chapter four: The trial, and Albus' conclusion to his Order; who is it inside of Harry Potter's body?
Until later,
See ya,
Tiro
