Summary: Harry Potter-the perfect little savior...the convenient scapegoat whenever the wizarding world has a problem, or needs somebody to blame. They've condemned him...to Azkaban. It's a hard place to survive, even harder still to come out as the same, naïve person that went in.

Disclaimer: I own nothing; if I did, I would be rich and famous and wouldn't be writing fan fiction.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: LYING FROM YOU

Bending down in front of the window to pick up and take with him the food and drinks, which he had placed in a small, plastic shopping bag for convenience's sake, that he had set there earlier, Harry felt a gnawing sensation—one not caused by hunger—that he hadn't felt since before Azkaban: Guilt. He had broken into someone else's home, eaten their food, used their shower, and stolen their clothes, the ones which he happened now to be wearing.

There's nothing I can do about it, he told himself. I don't have anyone that I can turn to and stopping for a handout would not only waste more time than I am willing to take, but it could also draw unwanted attention. Same goes for my Gringott's account. Not like I can just waltz right into the bank and ask to access the Potter vault. I mean sure, Sirius was able to access his on the run—it's not like the goblins care—but I just don't think I should take the chance of being caught because of my sending or receiving an owl or anything like that. Sirius was only wanted by the Ministry—Voldemort had no particular use for him and Dumbledore wasn't after him—however; I am hunted by anyone and everyone. He kept trying desperately, though unsuccessfully, to convince himself that there was no other way, (which logically made sense, but emotionally was simply unacceptable) and that what he had done was therefore not wrong. But he knew better.

Although he hadn't taken anything of great value or importance (unless counted by Harry's standards at this perilous time in his life), those people had done nothing to deserve what he had done to them.

He had robbed them...it was just beginning to sink in, along with the guilt. But he couldn't afford to breakdown here and now (how ironic to think that a convicted killer would be so affected by simply stealing a few things; I doubt anyone would believe it if they were told, but it's not like they ever believed any of the other things I've told them); it would be unsafe unsafe. If the owners came back and saw him, they would call the cops (something Harry most assuredly did not need at the moment, not that it would be any more welcome later on.)

Deciding that it wouldn't do any good to dwell on his former actions at the present time (there were more pressing matters to deal with), Harry made his way back out of the window he had come in through, his arms now laden with all of the goodies he had stolen and the old, ragged clothes he had just changed out of.

Although he was loathe to recall anything even remotely associated with his time spent in Azkaban—or even the wizarding world in general—let alone keep an article of clothing invariably linking him to that part of his life, he felt disconcertingly reluctant to toss the old robe aside, although he planned to trash the rest of the 'ensemble' in the nearest garbage bin.

For some inexplicable reason, he didn't want to throw away his one connection to the past; he didn't want to forget. He didn't want to forget how he'd been framed for something he'd had absolutely no control over, didn't want to forget how the whole wizarding world—including those he had at one point considered his dearest friends—had turned against him, didn't want to forget the way he'd been scorned and ridiculed and finally dumped in a cell to rot for what had seemed like an endless string of lonely, painful weeks. But most of all, most importantly, he didn't want to forget that no matter what, you can't rely on or trust anyone but yourself, because no one else truly gives a damn and will only stick with you as long as it suits their needs.

Needless to say, though, animals were exempt from this morbid observation, though not for the reasons one might think. It's not that animals aren't smart enough to be trusted or relied upon in the first place, but rather that they aren't compelled, as humans tend to be, by greed or power or any of the other vices that seem to plague human nature.

True, an animal would try and assure its own survival above all else, but Harry understood that, he could relate to that more so than any other thing at this time. It's not like you can blame someone for wanting to survive, self preservation was a fundamental law of nature, after all, and Harry knew that well.

Here he was, running from a faceless foe, trying his damndest just to stay one step ahead of everyone else, just so he'd be able to live—preferably outside of the confines of Azkaban prison, for one couldn't call being locked up in Azkaban actually living.

It would be so much easier if he could just end it all, right here, right now, and no longer have to worry about any of the demons from his past that kept coming back to haunt him, but he couldn't. He wouldn't let those bastards get away with what they had done to him; couldn't let them win by giving them what they probably had wanted all along (especially Voldemort): his death. Besides, suicide would be rather pointless, anyway; he figured with all of his unfinished business, he would more likely than not just end up becoming a ghost, though he wasn't entirely sure it worked that way, and that was about the last thing he wanted. Spending five years in the wizarding world was bad enough, an eternity spent there would be worse than hell.

But enough of these thoughts. They were getting him nowhere, serving only to make him more depressed than he already was (if that was possible.) Tossing everything he had been wearing earlier, save the robe (which he draped unconcernedly over his right arm), into a trash can, he made his way back towards the grassy outskirts of the town, returning to the spot where he had left Arcane.

The thestral trotted over, from where he had been grazing nearby (on the long grass they had slept amongst, though it was doubtful that Arcane actually enjoyed its taste), as he saw Harry approach. The eagerness with which the creature greeted him brought the hint of a smile to Harry's features as the small gesture touched him more deeply than he would have thought possible and quite unexpectedly.

"I've brought you something," Harry spoke playfully, concealing his 'present' for the thestral behind his back. Arcane whinnied appreciatively, nudging Harry's right shoulder with his muzzle as a sign of his impatience. Harry let out a small, amused chuckle at the act, deciding to tease the poor animal no farther. "Okay, okay," he assented, bringing forth a small package wrapped in thick, white paper from behind his back. Ripping the covering off with a hurried motion, he revealed the large slab of steak to the, now quite pleased, thestral.

The raw, bloody meat (just as was most liked by thestrals) was snatched out of Harry's outstretched hand before he could blink and was consumed just as quickly. "Guess you were just as hungry as I was," Harry commented idly aloud to Arcane. He had thought that the grass would hold the thestral over for a while, but thestrals were carnivores by nature. He patted Arcane sympathetically on his well muscled shoulder, sighing loudly as he wondered if they were going to have to keep stealing things to survive.

"Well, we'd better get a move on it if we don't want to get caught now," Harry declared as a careworn look crossed his face. He accepted Arcane's help in mounting (something he was definitely not good at), settled down atop his ride, and then they were off once again. Off to...well, he wasn't really sure yet, truth be told.

Maybe he could go to Lyon or Marseille or...did it really matter? Just as long as he didn't get found, anywhere would do (as long as it was muggle, of course.) How about Bordeaux—no, that was near to Beauxbatons, wasn't it? Yes, too near. Well, Nice was supposed to be lovely in autumn, right? Yes, that's where he would go; it was about as far away as you could possibly get from Britain without leaving France, perfect.

Author's Note: Not much going on in this chapter, but you do get some more insight into Harry's thoughts and how he has changed and yet still remains somewhat of his old self. Thanks for all of the reviews. Sorry this chapter took so long to get out. It would have been out sooner, but the server, or whatever for doesn't seem to be working properly. Now on to answering your questions...

kraeg001: Glad you like the fic! About Harry's stay in Azkaban...well, I'm not entirely sure yet, but it was roughly three months that he was there. I'm saying that he got thrown in there sometime before his sixteenth birthday (yep, his life really sucks) making it sometime in July and he was in there until at least the end of September. More about how long his stay was will be mentioned later on.

Samara-Morgan-101: Arcane will be staying with Harry for a while longer, though I'm not really sure for how long. I happen to really like the thestral, though I didn't originally plan for him to be playing a big part. ;)

humg321: I know it's kind of slow at this point, but it should be speeding up a bit in the next chapter. And, about the Gringott's account, I hope I answered all of your questions about it in the fic. If you have any more questions about it, just ask. Thanks for the review!

SeaShelly3: Wow! You don't usually like HP fanfiction, but you like mine?! Well, I must say that I'm flattered! Although I don't agree with you about the slash (I happen to enjoy reading a good slash story) and I have found many fics that I like on this site and are much better than mine, I'm sure. (Don't worry, though, this isn't going to turn into a slash—or any other kind of romance—story as I've mentioned in a comment to another reviewer.) About the scar: Harry is going to be in the muggle world. Remember, he's not famous there, and, even if he is known to be a criminal to the muggles, if he changes his appearance than people (especially in France) will most likely not recognize him. His scar is a pretty noticeable feature, but his hair has grown out some and so he will probably use it to cover up his scar. I have pretty much everything planned out (I think), but thanks for bringing that point up and for the review!