Myths of Azkaban: Legend of the Lord

Chapter Three: Castles and Malfoys and Snapes, oh my!

Harry looked around in awe at the splendor that was Castle Azkaban. It rose from the ground as if Nature herself had created it. It was at the exact center of the Isle, Alexi had told him. She had informed him that the wards were tied into the castle and the grounds of Azkaban. Even she didn't know to what extent. None of the Triumvirate did, as they did not have access to records held in trust for the family of Azkaban. And they couldn't read above half of those anyway, even if they did.

The castle was beautiful; at least, it was to Harry's eyes. It was built on the same lines as Hogwarts, just not near as massive. After all, they wouldn't be housing hundreds of children there, but rather Harry, his family (if he were so inclined) and certain of his close advisors, plus the staff which ran the place.

A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. This was his. No one could take it away from him, no matter what they tried. He considered who he knew that could adequately explain everything to him. It had to be a pureblood, or at the very least a half-blood. Or Hermione. But he didn't know how she felt about him; if she had betrayed him or not. Malfoy would know, he was certain. And if he didn't, he knew how to find out. Snape would know as well. So would Voldemort. He snickered to himself at the last thought. Like he would ever voluntarily ask Voldemort for anything. But he decided he just might invite a few Death Eaters for a couple of days. Of course, there were a few other Death Eaters he wouldn't mind inviting for a tour of his prison. And an extended holiday within.

But first, he had some missives he needed to send to the Ministries around the world. They needed to be informed of the rise of the Lord of Azkaban with all possible haste, Alexi had told him. And he was going to thoroughly enjoy every word he wrote to the idiots in the British Ministry.

Severus Snape was eating breakfast in the Great Hall, scowling at the students when the post owls arrived. Surprisingly, he'd received a letter as so many others did. But his was unusual in that it was so rare. He scrutinized the seal of wax, but could not recognize it, so he tucked the roll of parchment away until he was alone. He refused to read anything sent him in full view of the entire school. He resolved to read it during his first free period, which was directly before lunch. That should give him plenty of time to deal with whatever unpleasant news the scroll brought him, for what else could it be but unpleasant news?

Finally, his last class of the morning -seventh year NEWT level- let out, and he retreated to his office to peruse his letter. He was, understandably, quite shocked at what was revealed to him.

Professor S. Snape,

2 October 1997

I have the honor of being Lord to a small nation, and find myself in the dubious position of knowing next to nothing about it. I have those upon whom I may presume to ask questions, but find that I am unwilling to divulge the extent of my ignorance in these matters to those who depend upon me to lead and protect them. I have left the running of my 'estate' in the hands of those who cared for it before I came of age to accept my inheritance until the first of the year. They alone understand my lack of knowledge, and my inability to subject my people to doubt and lack of confidence in one who should appear strong at all times. Therefore, I have made inquiries as to the proper people that I may see, confide in, and trust not to spread discord among my people, and the answer that came to me was surprising. It appears that one who resides here has the utmost confidence in the abilities of yourself and one other, and wavering confidence in a third. Therefore, I would like to invite you to spend at least part if not all of the Winter Holidays here in my residence. Please answer as soon as is convenient, but no later than 30 November.

Yours,

The Lord of Azkaban and All Surrounding Isles

Affixed below the signature was the same seal that Severus had seen on the wax binding the scroll. The Seal of Azkaban. Not that of the lesser Triumvirate, but that of the Lord himself. Severus was speechless. He knew he had to consider carefully before deciding what he would do as either choice could present pitfalls and benefits. It was the chance of pitfalls that worried the Slytherin, however. He refused to walk into something without knowing as much as possible about it. He decided that to make his decision, he would have to research all known information on Azkaban and its Lords.

Draco Malfoy stopped outside of his Head of House's office, unsure as to whether he should confide in the man about the letter he received. Finally deciding on a course of action, he knocked. At the command to enter, he strode into the office with his customary arrogance. Only when the door was shut did he drop the facade and become himself.

"Mr. Malfoy. What can I do for you?" Severus asked.

"Sir, I... well, I got an invitation today and don't know if I should accept it or not. I was hoping for some advice on the matter from you," Draco replied.

Severus stared at the young man in front of him, unsure if he wanted to ask or not. Finally, he jumped in with both feet, like the Gryffindors that he so scorned.

"An invitation? To where, may I ask?"

"Azkaban. Apparently, there is a Lord of Azkaban that I'd never heard of, and he's decided to invite me for the Winter Hols. What do you think?"

"I think that you should consider very carefully before you commit yourself in either direction. I myself received a similar invitation, and intend to take all of the time allotted for me to answer. You should do likewise. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, Sir," Draco replied. With a nod for the older man, he took himself off to the Slytherin Dorms.

Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge looked at the parchment in front of him in utter disbelief. He couldn't believe it! How dare the man? He read over the missive again, though the words were branded into his brain.

First Decree of the Lord of Azkaban and All Surrounding Isles

It is with great relish that I present the Ministry of Magic with this Decree. Due to the restoration of the Lord Azkaban to the throne of Azkaban Isle, the Ministry of Magic is no longer required to maintain a presence on said Isle. The Minister of Magic will remove all forces from the Isle posthaste, or the Ministry of Magic will face dire consequences. The Ministry of Magic of Great Britain has thirty (30) days to comply before their presence is forcibly removed from Prison Azkaban and Azkaban Isle.

And there, half hidden by this First Decree, was yet another missive from the Isle of Azkaban.

Second Decree of the Lord of Azkaban and All Surrounding Isles

The Ministry of Magic is forbidden from inspecting Prison Azkaban without prior knowledge of and permission from the Lord Azkaban. Permission must be given in writing at least two weeks prior to the scheduled inspection, and must have the official Seal of Azkaban affixed. All documents sent by the Lord Azkaban are invalid unless the official Seal of Azkaban is affixed, and properly pressed.

The audacity of the man! If there even was such a person. For all of Fudge's years, he had never known there to be a Lord of Azkaban, and he wasn't quite sure that he believed there was one now. He dispatched a message for his Junior Under-secretary to search all records of Azkaban and its inhabitance by Ministry personnel and rulings. Then he sent a note off to Dumbledore. For all his faults, the old man knew his history, and he was, well, old after all.

The beginning of November was a time that Harry would remember with fondness for the rest of his life. As he had studied the laws of his new land, the Ministry had been trying to find a way around his decree. When the allotted thirty days were up, all of the Ministry people stationed on the Isles were found beached the next morning. Azkaban had taken pity on them and deposited them on the beach of the Mainland, rather than in the middle of the ocean. Still, he found it quite amusing. As did the Daily Prophet, from what he understood.
As November drew to a close, Harry sat in the library of Castle Azkaban, reading about lines of power and how your geographic location played a part in how much magical power you could actually tap into. There were the body's reserves, the body's main flow of power, and then there were the pockets of external magical energy that were so great nature couldn't contain them. Hogwarts was a prime example of that, as the magical flows of many different currents intersected there and created overflowing pools of energy. He looked up as one of the staff appeared at the door holding a stack of letters. Harry waved the man in and thanked him, taking the letters. He sorted through them, tossing some off to the side to be opened later, and placing others in a pile to be opened immediately. Yet more were in an 'other' pile, for which he honestly had no idea what to do with them.

He smiled as he recognized both the Potions Master's spiky writing, and Malfoy's elegant cursive. He tore into those two letters with unseemly haste and no decorum, but he didn't care one whit about decorum just then. He had to know if they were coming. His eyes scanned both letters and a smile crept across his face, blossoming into a wide grin. They were actually coming! Now, to make the arrangements to pick them up.

Harry had learned much during his two and a half months as Lord of Azkaban, but he didn't know near what he should to rule the small nation. He was reading everything he could get his hands on, and meeting often with the Triumvirate to discuss what he needed to do come the first of the year, but he was still unprepared. He knew it, and couldn't wait for Malfoy to arrive so he could talk the blond into giving him 'Aristocrat Lessons'. Not how to be a pompous git, but how to carry himself, and exude the image of power and confidence. And Snape. That man was going to be his salvation, he was sure. The Potions Master on Azkaban wasn't nearly as skilled as Severus Snape, yet he had been badgering the Triumvirate and Harry both to use potions to check his blood. He said he found something he didn't like in the preliminary tests done on Harry, but Harry continuously refused to allow him to do more. He meant no offence to the man, but he wanted Snape to do whatever tests needed to be done. Harry knew without a doubt that Snape would never mess up a potion. Their man may be a Master, but Snape. . . well, he was a Natural.

Harry had let the time get away from him while he was meeting with the Triumvirate and the Potions Master. He had been awaiting the arrival of the Slytherins when the man arrived and started harping on Harry again about letting the man test him. Harry was arguing quite forcefully with him, and didn't notice the guard open the door to the meeting room. Harry had left instructions that the two guests were to be brought directly to him as soon as they arrived.

"I don't understand, Hiram, why you are still going on about this. I told you a month ago that I would wait for the arrival of Severus Snape and ask him to do it. I mean no offence to you at all, as I know you are a Master in your field, but Snape is a Natural as well as a Master. If he refuses to do the testing -which I doubt for he is a man known to take on challenges- then you may do it. But until I have his decision, we will not discuss this anymore. You should know before the day is out, hopefully, as he is due here at any moment. Now, do I have your agreement to drop this until he decides?" Harry asked the man.

Hiram Mithran nodded in resigned acceptance. The guard at the door cleared his throat.

"My Lord? Your guests have arrived."

Harry looked up eagerly and nodded to the man.

"Show them in."

The guard stepped back and waved his companions into the room as Harry stood and stepped around the table to greet them.

"Potter! What are you doing here?" Severus asked.

Malfoy simply gaped at his former schoolmate.

"Sir! You will kindly show some respect to the Lord Azkaban while you are in his house!" Alexi scolded.

Harry sniggered.

"It's quite alright, Alexi. I understand that our dear Professor Snape has had quite a shock. It looks as though Mr. Malfoy hasn't fared any better. Besides, I do believe I would die of shock if either of them so much as inclined their heads in respect to me. We have far too much history between us for anything less than the familiar."

Harry waved towards some empty chairs and offered refreshments.

"Have a seat, gentlemen, and I will explain exactly why I asked you here."

Malfoy spluttered at him as he sat down. "You're the Lord of Azkaban? How can this be?"

A/N: This is all I have so far, and I already know that I am a VERY slow updater. But that cannot be helped. So... ah well. Review, let me know what you think.