The court was once again in session. Harry sat in the middle like some sort of display at a museum. His eyes drifted back over the many tiles in the room, looking for his one. Eventually, he spotted it, sitting under some Auror's boot. That was slightly aggravating. Harry didn't want to stare at some bloke's boot for the foreseeable future.

Sniffing loudly, Harry redirected his attention to Bones, who sat mightily on the throne in front of him. Harry found it funny that they had gotten so riled up over one measly memory that had lasted a mere minute. So riled up that they had to spend another day going over whatever they needed to, perhaps they were going to try and find inconsistencies within the war and ask him about them.

There was no fun in that, though. Where was the mystery? Couldn't they use their imagination?

"Mr Potter, the jury is under the impression that your revelations yesterday may help solve many cases that will otherwise remain open. Would you be willing to answer some questions as to the nature of these cases?"

"You want to know the truth? Truth about what, exactly?"

"You could help so many people, Mr Potter, why won't you?"

"Why would I? I'm not a good person, remember? The way I see it, you don't have any proper authority here, Bones, certainly not over me."

"How is that, Mr Potter?"

"Well... There is the part where I want to be in Azkaban... Never mind that though, we could spend days here, Bones, and as entertaining as this back and forth is, I would rather greet death with open arms than spend the last of my days listening to you prattle on about cases that I have no care for."

"Do you have to be so difficult, Mr Potter?"

"Where's the fun in my cooperation, Bones? I can't even understand why you want to solve those cases. It doesn't matter anymore." Harry said with an enormous grin.

Bones sighed. "Just yesterday, Mr Potter, you revealed to us that you have supposedly worked for years under Albus Dumbledore's orders, yet you sit here and remain as defiant as the most loyal of Death Eaters."

"I never said the reason why I joined would absolve me of my guilt, Bones." Harry paused with a large grin, eyes twinkling. "We both know that Dumbledore's orders have no real meaning in the eyes of the law, but say they did... Then you really should have paid more attention to my memory. When I said I'd do anything, I meant it. I never had noble intentions, never sought glory, honour, nothing. What my goals were, was announced in that memory and they never changed. I was The Dark Lord's right hand, and lest this room forgets, I enjoyed what I did."

"If you could just explain your role in all of this, it would give us a clearer picture and maybe even reduce the sentence you get."

"And what? You think I deserve a lesser sentence?" Harry asked, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow at Bones.

"That is not what I said, Mr Potter."

"No... Perhaps not." Harry clicked his tongue. "But why would you care if I got let off? There's really nothing to gain with my freedom... I do recall you used to have a niece... I remember her -a good girl, she was- she was ever so brave..." Harry mocked. "She was a screamer, you know? We -Bella and I- always loved the screamers. My victim's screams always stayed with me... A constant companion."

The courtroom broke out into incoherent screaming. Harry briefly heard shouting for him to be sentenced already; even some people screaming to let them have him. So Harry sat, waiting for the buffoons to calm down. His gaze shifted over to his tile, now free of the dirty Auror's boot, allowing him to focus fully on it once more.

Harry felt an odd connection to the tile. He wondered if he would be allowed it if he asked. Such a request could be granted, couldn't it? Harry didn't quite know, he hadn't studied law all that much. There had been no point. He would eventually break it, anyway. Better not knowing what laws he'd actually broken.

Harry could just about hear the muffled conversation going on between Bones and her henchmen: "This is going nowhere! Interrogate him someplace else, the boy won't reveal anything whilst he's sat there." A man -slightly tubby- said; he had an awful-looking hat on, something that really butchered his appearance, not that he was very much to look at as it was.

"I think you're right... Potter is enjoying this too much," Bones said after a moment.

"Director... Why is he looking at us?" The last one of her henchmen; a small woman who looked far too up her own arse for Harry's liking; pointed out.

"Ignore him! He's just doing it for effect." Bones reprimanded.

Harry went back to looking at his tile. This was boring. He'd rather be sitting in Azkaban than sitting here, chained to this bloody seat.

"He could be useful... If we could control him, no one would be able to get away." The tubby man said, making Harry focus once again on the conversation.

"The Boy was caught, Doge, remember?" The small woman said.

"Have you not heard him? He wants to be here! I say he let himself be captured." The tubby man -Doge- retorted.

"There have only been three people in the last century to wield such power as that, Grindelwald, Dumbledore and You-Know-Who. How can this boy be in that league?" The small woman argued.

"Enough! I want more information from him. He could prove vital to potentially many of the unsolved disappearances of not just Aurors but Ministry officials alike. Now, I know it won't be easy, but we need something from him." Bones declared.

"Albus always praised the kid. I think you should take that into consideration. He may be an awful person, but I have my doubts that you'll get anything out of him, Amelia. Especially here," Doge said.

"We can't keep dragging this out! We need to sentence him. Now." The small woman said.

"This is a once in a generation opportunity! We can't waste it because of old procedures." Bones said.

"Fine! But we can't continue to squabble. I say let him sit in Azkaban for a few weeks, loosen his tongue." The small woman argued.

"Okay, we'll postpone his incarceration until we know more." Bones finally decided.

Bones stood up from her throne. "Order! Further evidence is required for this case. You will all be notified of the next session." Bones said loudly, garnering silence in the chamber. "Session Adjourned."

Harry wasn't quite sure how they usually ended sessions like this, but he was almost certain that it would be more formal than that. If the disgruntled looks and upset faces were anything to go by, Harry was right in his assumptions.

Harry was taken out of the room after it had fully emptied, being levitated through the halls and into a holding cell once more. He sat in wait, knowing he'd be off to Azkaban for the next few weeks. Harry wondered whether they still had Dementors there. After The Dark Lord had gained their allegiance, Harry suspected The Ministry would keep an even tighter hold on the foul creatures.

The door opened, revealing someone Harry was very surprised to see.

"Harry." James Potter said curtly.

Harry didn't grace him with a response, looking up and meeting the man's gaze with a hollow stare.

"Are you not sorry, Harry?"

"I did what was necessary," Harry replied defiantly.

"Yes... Yes, you told your mother that yesterday."

Harry just smiled, causing James to avert his gaze for a moment.

"Why, Harry? Will you just answer me that, please?"

Harry's smile disappeared, a cold sheet of a person left behind.

"I thought it obvious... All people needed to see was my memory of Dumbledore. My reasons are all in there," Harry said, pausing for a moment. "Jim and Daniel didn't need to end up fighters, not as we did. They deserved to have a fun childhood, free of the burden of war, without worrying that they would need to fight."

"What about yourself? You were a child too."

"I couldn't live with myself if I hadn't taken things into my own hands."

James let out a loud huff. "You threw your life away, Harry! You threw it all away. We can't help you with anything now! You're a puppet of The Ministry."

"Puppet? Puppet?" Harry questioned furiously. "I'm no puppet! You think they'll get anything out of me? Really? I wasn't just a low time Death Eater, Dad, I was The Dark Lord's right hand! I've been trained personally by both Albus Dumbledore and The Dark Lord, and what? You think they can do anything I don't want them to? You think Azkaban could hold me if I wanted to escape?" Harry demanded, getting up in James' face.

"Harry..." James said, taking a small step back.

"I could be off; could've cracked open Azkaban and taken Bella, never to be seen again, but no, I'm doing the right thing! Why can't you see I deserve this? You saw what poor Ginny got, and trust me, that was a tea party compared to what others got! I'm not a good person, Dad. I've done things that are unspeakable. I don't deserve the freedom to have a good life after those acts!"

"You need help, Harry, and we can get you some. You have been through a lot these past few years. If we plead insanity, you can come home."

"Insanity? I'm not insane. I was in my right mind the whole time! That is why I deserve death, Dad."

"Please, Harry, just come back to us... We'll help you. You can come back to Godric's Hollow, and everything will be alright." James pleaded, grasping at anything to bring his son back.

"I don't need your help! I don't want your help!" Harry screamed. "Do you know what it takes to gain the admiration and respect of Bellatrix Lestrange, Dad? Do you know what it takes to make her overlook your blood? Let alone gain her love and devotion? I tell you, The Dark Lord is the only other Half-Blood to gain her respect, and he didn't even tell her his name! What does that tell you?"

"You're not thinking straight, Harry. Let us help you as you helped us. Your mother and I can't bear to see you like this, especially after yesterday."

Harry started pacing the length of the cell, completely ignoring what James had said. "First I had to deal with her husband -made it look like he died on a raid- then I had to prove myself to the woman... You understand that dear Bellatrix respects two things: power and loyalty? I realised this. I spent years gaining her trust, murdering, committing mass destruction. All those long nights spent alone with the woman, understanding what she liked, what made her tick... I can't even remember what's real and fake anymore, Dad. The lines are all blurred."

There was a pause, Harry's eyes growing distant as he re-watched old memories.

"Eventually, she let me in on her deepest desires and I realised I had to give her something no one else could, something even The Dark Lord couldn't give her..." Harry whispered.

James went to speak once again, but Harry quickly resumed his tirade, raising his voice once more.

"Imagine that... Giving someone something The Dark Lord -with all his power- couldn't give. Can you imagine what it would have taken, the underhand magic; healing magic, healing the scars of a decade in Azkaban and countless other problems I ran into... Do you understand what I'm saying? Can you even comprehend the lengths I went to for her? Bellatrix's Vault was the hardest task I was given... Nothing else came close. Nothing. It wasn't a case of some light Legilimency; Bellatrix's Occlumency skills are far too advanced; only rivalled by The Dark Lord... It wasn't a simple break-in... I even scouted out the Vault, convincing her to let me tag along once. But the Vault's defences made a key necessary, so we scrapped the idea. Had to come up with something else."

"And that was?" James probed.

"Something else..." Harry clicked his tongue as he walked back and forth, once again ignoring James for a moment.

"I made Bellatrix many, many promises... You know? Keeping those promises was hard... but I did it. She used to look at us with such love... You should have seen the way she smiled. It made me forget my troubles..." For a moment Harry seemed to forget where he was and a small pink tinge made its way to Harry's cheeks, and a genuine smile graced his lips. "You want to know why Dumbledore postponed everything -and I mean everything- for months, telling you how he needed more time... We had to wait for the new Malfoy child." Harry's face scrunched as if he had smelt something foul.

Harry stopped pacing, looking James directly in the eyes. Harry spent a minute just staring, staring into James' soul; looking for any lies, deceit. Anything that made the man untrustworthy.

"Only... The child isn't a Malfoy..." Harry stopped, eyes regaining a spec of life but growing distant, shoulders growing softer, letting his guard down after what seemed like an eternity.

"Harry? What are you saying?" James asked softly, eyes imploring Harry to continue.

Harry seemed to have realised what he just said, his posture hardening once more.

"No... no, no, no," Harry's eyes dimmed; features marring drastically, looking completely savage. "Leave me!" Harry bellowed.

"Wait, Harry." James tried.

"I swear I will run you through with a fucking knife! Get out! Now!" Harry screamed, his breathing heaving visibly inflating and deflating as he glared holes into James' head.

"Okay... Okay, I'll go." James said, holding his hands up in a comforting gesture.

James tentatively left the cell, leaving Harry alone once more, who glared at the door even after James had long since departed.

oooooooooooo

A/N: So what did you think? I enjoyed writing this chapter. Writing the basic outline took no time at all, it seemed. The hard part was getting the dialogue to fit right. I had to make it so the right information was revealed without feeling forced? I don't know how that turned out, though.

Hell on Earth has a chapter mostly written. It'll be out within the next few days if you are interested.

Anyway, what did you think?

-Salt.