Harry had read many fairy tales in his childhood; he had nothing better to
do, locked in his cupboard as he was. He had read about the fearless
knights in armor setting out on an adventure to save the beautiful princess
from the clutches of evil magicians. The story always ended with the defeat
of all that was evil and good always won. But, as Harry Potter later found
out, that was not the case in the real life.
Sitting in his cell in Azkaban prison, Harry had nothing to do but contemplate over the con and pos of his life. And the more he thought, the more he regretted the choice he made in his first year. The choice that completely changed the course of his life.
Voldemort had warned him about that, subtly. He told him that in the world, nothing mattered except power. Power to bend others to your will. He had yelled, he had denied, and called Voldemort a liar. But where did it get him? All the lives he had saved, consciously and unconsciously. And now these very lives were anxious to take his own.
Despite the overwhelming vote, Harry had not been given the Dementor's Kiss, for being a minor. It was the only good that had come of this. That, and his new realization of what life entailed.
He was what, seventeen, eighteen years old. He had lost count. But he was sure that was it. He had been sent here near the end of his sixth year. So, he had been here roughly two years. Enough to drive a man insane. But not Harry. Not Harry Potter.
The visions through his scar showed Voldemort conquering the world. Ministry collapsed half a year ago. Minister Fudge died in the attack. Harry could appreciate that. Fudge could've stopped them sending him here, if he had wanted to.
Once in, Harry focused all his energy in learning Occlumeny, to keep the Dementors and Voldemort out of his head. That had proven to be a very useful skill. If not for that, Harry would've been rotting alive in his cell, begging for death.
He had discovered his Legilimency powers by pure luck. In a fit of rage, he had wished with all his mind to hurt the Dementor sucking his emotions. At once, he had felt himself in the foul creature's mind. It was frightening, it was exhilarating. He felt his power on the creature, felt that he could kill the creature that had tormented him so with but a thought. But he refrained himself.
Harry now set upon this new project, becoming a Legilimens. Then after one another, he discovered and conquered the traits that other wizards could only dream of. It still didn't satisfy him though. He needed power, beyond all imaginations. So, he started strengthening his magic. He meditated through day and night, looking deep into himself and seeking the core of his being, where his magic was hidden. It was not easy. And it took him most part of the year, but at last he accomplished what he had sought.
On July 31st, about three years after his wrongful imprisonment, on his birthday, Harry decided to give himself a birthday present; he was breaking free.
~*~
Twenty year old Ronald Weasley sat in his tiny office finishing last of the day's work. There was not much, considering the war going on. Voldemort had destroyed the original Ministry building, so all the records were destroyed. Ron now worked in Magical Law enforcement.
He was also a part time member for the Order of the Phoenix, lead by Albus Dumbledore. Hermione was a researcher for the Order.
With a regretful sigh, Ron remembered his other best friend; Harry James Potter. He had been there when they took him. He still remembered the day as clear as it happened tomorrow.
"Hey Harry, what are you doing?" Asked a sixteen year old Ron. Harry looked up from his Charm's homework.
"Oh, nothing. Just doing this work for Flitwick." He replied.
"C'mon Harry, it isn't due for another four days." Ron groaned. His friend had become a lot more studious this year. Well, Hermione sure had been happy.
"Just thought to get it out of the earlier. I've got other stuff to care of." He replied absently, reading through his essay for double-checking.
"Fine. I'm going to go fly a bit out there. Wanna come?" Ron offered, knowing his friend could never resist that. But he was to be disappointed.
"No, I've got loads of work to do," Harry said, frowning at something in his essay. "You go, have fun." He waved his hand.
"'K. If you're sure."
"I'm sure." He went back to his own world, mumbling something about ten ways to use an Expelliarmus.
It was the very next day that he was hauled off to the prison.
"I never did anything!" Harry shouted and struggled in the tight grip of two strong Aurors.
"You were found on the spot, Mr. Potter. Besides how would you justify for the illegal, and quite dark I might say, stuff hidden in you trunk." Minister Fudge was besides himself with glee.
"We have every evidence against you, Mr. Potter. It is sufficient to earn you a life sentence in Azkaban, which I might add it will." The tall, elegant form of Lucius Malfoy moved from behind Fudge.
He approached Harry and whispered in his ear.
"You are finished, Mr. Potter!"
Smirking, he left with his cloak billowing behind him.
"Bring him!"
"No! No! I didn't do anything. You've got to believe me, Professor Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore!" Harry cried and struggled.
Dumbledore turned his head away from the scene and sighed heavily.
Professor McGonagall moved swiftly to soothe him.
"It was none of your fault, Albus. The boy chose the path for himself." She glared hatefully at Harry.
"I understand, Minerva. But perhaps if I had been there to stop all the dark events in his life, he had not chosen the way of vengeance. Alas, Minerva. I've failed again."
"Harry Potter, you are taken into custody for meddling with the darkest of magicks and owning dark artifacts. You are also found guilty of the murder of Dennis Creevy. For this, you are sentenced to live the rest of your life in the wizard prison Azkaban. Signed Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic."
Sitting in his cell in Azkaban prison, Harry had nothing to do but contemplate over the con and pos of his life. And the more he thought, the more he regretted the choice he made in his first year. The choice that completely changed the course of his life.
Voldemort had warned him about that, subtly. He told him that in the world, nothing mattered except power. Power to bend others to your will. He had yelled, he had denied, and called Voldemort a liar. But where did it get him? All the lives he had saved, consciously and unconsciously. And now these very lives were anxious to take his own.
Despite the overwhelming vote, Harry had not been given the Dementor's Kiss, for being a minor. It was the only good that had come of this. That, and his new realization of what life entailed.
He was what, seventeen, eighteen years old. He had lost count. But he was sure that was it. He had been sent here near the end of his sixth year. So, he had been here roughly two years. Enough to drive a man insane. But not Harry. Not Harry Potter.
The visions through his scar showed Voldemort conquering the world. Ministry collapsed half a year ago. Minister Fudge died in the attack. Harry could appreciate that. Fudge could've stopped them sending him here, if he had wanted to.
Once in, Harry focused all his energy in learning Occlumeny, to keep the Dementors and Voldemort out of his head. That had proven to be a very useful skill. If not for that, Harry would've been rotting alive in his cell, begging for death.
He had discovered his Legilimency powers by pure luck. In a fit of rage, he had wished with all his mind to hurt the Dementor sucking his emotions. At once, he had felt himself in the foul creature's mind. It was frightening, it was exhilarating. He felt his power on the creature, felt that he could kill the creature that had tormented him so with but a thought. But he refrained himself.
Harry now set upon this new project, becoming a Legilimens. Then after one another, he discovered and conquered the traits that other wizards could only dream of. It still didn't satisfy him though. He needed power, beyond all imaginations. So, he started strengthening his magic. He meditated through day and night, looking deep into himself and seeking the core of his being, where his magic was hidden. It was not easy. And it took him most part of the year, but at last he accomplished what he had sought.
On July 31st, about three years after his wrongful imprisonment, on his birthday, Harry decided to give himself a birthday present; he was breaking free.
~*~
Twenty year old Ronald Weasley sat in his tiny office finishing last of the day's work. There was not much, considering the war going on. Voldemort had destroyed the original Ministry building, so all the records were destroyed. Ron now worked in Magical Law enforcement.
He was also a part time member for the Order of the Phoenix, lead by Albus Dumbledore. Hermione was a researcher for the Order.
With a regretful sigh, Ron remembered his other best friend; Harry James Potter. He had been there when they took him. He still remembered the day as clear as it happened tomorrow.
"Hey Harry, what are you doing?" Asked a sixteen year old Ron. Harry looked up from his Charm's homework.
"Oh, nothing. Just doing this work for Flitwick." He replied.
"C'mon Harry, it isn't due for another four days." Ron groaned. His friend had become a lot more studious this year. Well, Hermione sure had been happy.
"Just thought to get it out of the earlier. I've got other stuff to care of." He replied absently, reading through his essay for double-checking.
"Fine. I'm going to go fly a bit out there. Wanna come?" Ron offered, knowing his friend could never resist that. But he was to be disappointed.
"No, I've got loads of work to do," Harry said, frowning at something in his essay. "You go, have fun." He waved his hand.
"'K. If you're sure."
"I'm sure." He went back to his own world, mumbling something about ten ways to use an Expelliarmus.
It was the very next day that he was hauled off to the prison.
"I never did anything!" Harry shouted and struggled in the tight grip of two strong Aurors.
"You were found on the spot, Mr. Potter. Besides how would you justify for the illegal, and quite dark I might say, stuff hidden in you trunk." Minister Fudge was besides himself with glee.
"We have every evidence against you, Mr. Potter. It is sufficient to earn you a life sentence in Azkaban, which I might add it will." The tall, elegant form of Lucius Malfoy moved from behind Fudge.
He approached Harry and whispered in his ear.
"You are finished, Mr. Potter!"
Smirking, he left with his cloak billowing behind him.
"Bring him!"
"No! No! I didn't do anything. You've got to believe me, Professor Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore!" Harry cried and struggled.
Dumbledore turned his head away from the scene and sighed heavily.
Professor McGonagall moved swiftly to soothe him.
"It was none of your fault, Albus. The boy chose the path for himself." She glared hatefully at Harry.
"I understand, Minerva. But perhaps if I had been there to stop all the dark events in his life, he had not chosen the way of vengeance. Alas, Minerva. I've failed again."
"Harry Potter, you are taken into custody for meddling with the darkest of magicks and owning dark artifacts. You are also found guilty of the murder of Dennis Creevy. For this, you are sentenced to live the rest of your life in the wizard prison Azkaban. Signed Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic."