Chapter 1

Meanwhile, back at the burrow, Ron and Hermione sat together in Ron's room reading the Daily Prophet.

POTTER SENT TO AZKABAN

Our own hero. Harry Potter, has been accused of killing Neville Longbottom, one of his fellow students. The Ministry of Magic counted it as a 1st degree murder. Therefore Mr. Potter has been sentenced to serve three years in Azkaban prison under medium security. He now sits alone in a stone black cell under the watchful eyes of the dementors. No longer a hero, Harry Potter lives in Azkaban along with the other misfortunate souls. May this be a lesson to all. Heroes can go bad.

-Percy Weasley

"This is horrible. Ron, what are we going to do?" Hermione asked, tuning towards Ron with a worried look.

"I don't know. Bloody hell, who do they think they are? Who would believe all this rubbish?" Hermione threw Ron a sideways glance as if to say, it is the Daily Prophet you know!

"I can't believe Percy was even a part of this family. He might as well not be, with all the trouble he has caused. Neville is a Griffindor, Harry wouldn't even dream of murdering someone from his own house. Neville is practically his best friend, besides us two of course..."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Hermione cut in. "I know Harry would never do something like this. If Percy wasn't such a big headed blabbermouth...oh I would love to give him one good punch right between the eyes!"

"Easy Hermione, no need to get physical yet."

"But Ron, Harry is sitting in a cell in Azkaban! We can't just sit here on our bums, waiting for Dumbledore to save the day!"

"Shh, listen." Hermione stopped her rambling and waited for Ron to speak.

"I think I have a plan," he whispered. Hermione saw that mischievous look in Ron's eyes. The same look he wore when he was about to win a game of wizard chess.

"Alright, what we're going to do is..." Ron looked around to make sure nobody was listening. He then whispered softly into Hermione's ear. Her eyes lit up as Ron continued to reveal his secret plan. She nodded and winked as he spoke, trying to contain her obvious excitement.

"Oh Ron its brilliant!" she said as she flung her arms around him. Ron's eyes bulged while Hermione squeezed him.

"Um, you can let go now," Ron breathed.

"Sorry." They both blushed.

"Ron," Hermione said as she gazed at Ron dreamily. He looked up in response. "Dumbledore would be proud." Ron smiled that goofy smile Hermione loved so well.

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Harry sat and rubbed his temples trying to come up with a solution to his now urgent problem. If I don't come up with something soon, Malfoy could bleed to death. No innocent person deserves to die in a prison cell, not even Malfoy. Damn you brains, help me out! Think, have to think. Bloody hell, this is like trying to read "Quidditch throughout the Ages" while Dudley is blasting his high definition T.V. in the next room. I bet the Dursley's are really enjoying the fact that I am stuck in prison, while they are having a Harry-free summer.

This thought triggered a memory Harry had of the time Dudley fell off his tricycle. Dudley had failed to listen to his mother when she told him to wear a helmet. He decided to ride his tricycle down a good sized hill. Dudley was so fat, and the tricycle so tiny; that by the time the tricycle reached the bottom of the hill, Dudley had already toppled over and hit his head on a rock. Unfortunately he had managed to survive. They rushed to the hospital in the Durley's car, Dudley screaming all the while. His pudgy little head resembled a large red tomato. Harry remembered that the doctor stitched up Dudley's head then wrapped it up with large strips of white cloth. Afterward Dudley was forced, by Aunt Petunia, to sleep sitting up for a whole week to keep him from loosing any more blood from his precious little head.

I don't have anything to sew up Malfoy's head, but I can keep his head from bleeding too horribly. Harry removed his shirt and tied it around Malfoy's head being careful not to get blood all over himself. He was unsuccessful. Eww, Malfoy cooties. Harry wiped his hands off and Malfoy's shirt. He couldn't help but notice Malfoy had a nice set of abs. Harry looked down at his own stomach. It wasn't very impressive to say the least. Ah, who cares. Nobody is around to see anyhow. Now let's see if I can prop you up. Sadly, no matter how Harry tried, Malfoy would not sit up strait.

Uh, this better be worth it ferret. Harry decided to resort to desperate measures. He rested Malfoy's body against his own so that Malfoy's back was strait and his head was upright. Harry winced slightly, expecting Malfoy's body to be cold and clammy to match his personality. On the contrary it felt quite soft and warm. Well, despite the fact that your head looks rather gruesome, it isn't too unbearable having you leaning against me. Harry eyed Malfoy, checking to see if he was still unconscious. Yep, sleeping like a rock he is. I might as well get some sleep too. It's not like I have anything better to do.

Harry reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his rusty pocket knife. He carefully carved another mark in the wall then stowed the knife away.

As the sun went down Harry rested his head on Malfoy's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Nighty night ferret."