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Recreant
Chapter 6
By Robbly

Beta: Everybody give Gilthas a clap. I've got a permanant beta. I'm so special. Yay! Anyway thank Gil cause it would not be the same without Gil's help :)

Harry's conscious mind seemed amused by the crowds reaction, but the drugged euphoria numbed his independence. He felt the silvery shiver as his 'friend' moved.

He heard the surprise of the crowd behind him.

"H-how did y-you r-receive y-your m-m-mark?"

He heard a voice shakily ask him, and the compulsion rose within him, it would not let the truth be contained by the secrecy of flesh. He answered the words streaming out like a waterfall its boundaries suddenly broken.

"He gave me the reasons, I gave in. All my efforts would be futile. I would not let the nightmare occur. I gave in. The dark mark must be taken willingly and I lay before my soon to be 'master' and took it.

... No. Harry brutally forced the memory out of his mind. Searching for something to direct his attention to he grabbed the parchment, quills and ink sitting to the side of him on the ground. He glared at the parchment unable to stop the images that came unbidden to his mind.

"I was bound..."

Harry groaned and pulled his mind out of the memory again. He had to write the letter dammit. He did not need to relive what had been. No words came to mind and the memory resurfaced.

I was bound to a stone alter and by the end it was soaking in my blood. I lay there bound to it for a week before I stopped bleeding, blood replenishing potions being the only thing that kept me alive. I was mad for that entire week and by the end I broke my chains in my madness and attempted to kill any who came near. I killed 13 death eaters, and then was subdued. I was to be submissive for my lord. I had to learn it. Submissiveness can outweigh madness, if the lessons are hard enough. But sometimes I think submissiveness is madness in itself. As for the taking of the mark, for those who have never suffered the agony;

Imagine the pain of the cruciatus being enhanced so far that you go periodically mad yet cannot escape to the world of unconsciousness. I begged for death, I was rambling, I sent of fits of wandless magic in my pain, yet within a torturous hell of seven hours it was done. If you have never suffered the cruciatus, pray on whatever good lies in this hell you call life that you never have to."

Harry looked up, he saw Snape and the only thing on Snape's face was pure and utter horror, a mind link appeared in Harry's brain and a slightly insane smile once again twitched his lips

Potter's mark took 7 hours? The boy must be lying. I fainted after a minute and was told mine only took 3 minutes total. Lucius' had taken the longest, a time of 10 minutes and he was a wreck by the end of it. 7 hours? Hell I was on the boundary of death for a month. My grandfather saved me. 7 hours? 7 hours? 7 hours and conscious the entire time? Not possible. My mind forgot the pain yet it still haunts me?

Harry saw his conscious mind was amused, it did not show on his face, the numbing potion once again covered all thoughts. Harry's sanity was indeed questionable yet right now he was submissive to the core. It had been beaten into him.

Harry's mark was of a snake all too like Nagini. A huge black basilisk. A basilisk with violet eyes shimmering red in the light, creeping out of a skull on the small of his back. Even looking into the eyes of the tattoo was hypnotising.

This tattoo was different though. Harry's mark was terribly unique. His tattoo could move. The snake was like a two dimensional being living on his skin. Harry's master had named it once, Doulau, but Harry didn't quite like the name, it was creepy and impersonal, too impersonal for a snake who lived on his very skin and who would live there for the rest of his life. But who was he to complain? Doulau could move all over Harry's body, preferring to lie curled around his arm, wrist, neck etc. He heard a small hiss in his mind. Pity they can't hear you, he thought, his 'friend' just hissing back.

UGH! Harry glared at the parchment, with a determined frown he wrote,

"To Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"

How to start, how to start...

His mind patiently waited, Doulau restlessly writhing on his back silvery cold trails in her wake making Harry shudder. The euphoric passiveness enforced by the truth potion was wearing off but the compulsion was still strong enough. His vision was clear yet the world was? muffled. His mind was fuzzy and he could not think quickly. Still, even through this lethargic-like state of thinking Harry could hear the overwhelming silence in the courtroom.

There was silence in the courtroom. Harry bowed his head, the compulsion waited for the next question.

Slowly but surely the silence broke and with many more questions, the compulsion lessened with each. Harry answered each without hesitation and a strange euphoria came with each time he erupted in more words. It faded though. Harry felt his care receding; he was slipping into the all familiar zone. Each question was answered directly with no extra volunteered information, he answered truthfully without hesitation even after the compulsion wore off, long before the court obviously thought it should.

The last topic they were to question him on was what they had all been waiting for. It was like confirmation for them. Definite proof that he had forsaken them. That he had already said that he had joined Voldermort, that he had taken Voldermort's mark, was irrelevant. This would pretty much determine his fate. Harry however was oblivious to the fact, his head bowed his voice meek, his entire being humble, Harry was the very image of submissiveness. He passively waited their judgement.

"Were at least partly responsible for the Christmas Eve Massacre which resulted in the deaths of 2,756 muggles & purebloods alike, wounding countless others?"

"Yes."

Harry answered without any hesitation though his previous monotone had changed to an obvious tone of regret and was it... self resentment, Severus heard? He had no time to question it as the court room broke out in hostility.

Harry flinched they were not happy and unhappy people were not good for his own well being. Still he retained his subservient stance. His eyes were focused on the floor though a tear seeped out and quickly fell to the floor. Harry showed no other emotion.

A red head at the back stood up and shouted at the top of his voice

"TRAITOR! YOU TRAITOROUS BASTARD! I TRUSTED YOU POTTER!"

He was then restrained by someone next to him but the crowd was started and the enmity was mutual, nobody was going to stop it, especially not on the grounds that such anger was unfounded. They were all shouting at him, hating him. He was cowering taking it in silence. They were barraging him with visions of what they would do to him given half the chance. Harry flinched at each one, being torn up inside, bleeding in a way they would never see. He just wanted to die.

Tears poured down Harry's cheeks as he yanked his mind away again, The parchment was spotted with tears.

"NO."

then in a whisper,

"no more..."

But it was like the memory has a mind of it's own. He would relive it all.

They were discussing what to do with him. He was guilty, they were sure of it and so was the crowd. The crowd was glaring at him, oblivious to his pain as they, feeling their own pain, sought revenge. The hollow of Harry's despair consumed his entire attention. He no longer cared. The crowd took this sad impassiveness as further confirmation of his guilt.

They were arguing. A lifetime in Azkaban was too good for him, but he was too lawfully young for the dementor's kiss. They would have to change the laws, yet it could not be done unless...

Harry ignored the noise, time passed, depression erased all knowledge of the world around him. He did not want to hear what they were saying anyway. He tried to zone back in a while later, mildly surprised to find silence teasing his ears. Suddenly a clear voice rang through the court room, backed by a tone of controlled rage.

"Mr Harry James Potter has been found guilty of the following charges:
1) Joining the Dark Lord
2) Taking the dark mark
3) Wilfully endangering the lives of all the students and staff at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry
4) Wilfully serving Voldermort
5) Learning and using the dark arts, and illegal magic to intentionally hurt others
6) Plotting against the Light community
7) Wilfully attempting to harm and kill civilians
..."

The man listed more charges and Harry's heart drooped with each one. The crowd was getting more and more boisterous, and angry. Soon they could possibly turn into a mob, surging forward to kill the pitiful object of their loathing.

"Finally, being responsible for the Christmas Eve Massacre, and therefore killing 2,756 innocent civilians."

The man paused waiting for the crowd to quiet down and announced.

"Harry Potter has been sentenced to 7 lifetimes in Azkaban under the highest security possible; his punishment shall be further debated and discussed?"

Harry's eyes were tightly closed though this did not stop the tears from seeping out. He could not let himself sink back into that depression. The subservient despair sat in the corner of his mind, tempting him to give in, to give himself into the will of others, to not have to face decisions and choices.

"Mr Harry James Potter has been found guilty...

the words rebounded through his head

guilty

guilty

GUILTY"

No. Harry repeated to himself. He was innocent and once again had a will, a consciousness and he was not going to let it go that easily. He had a chance to determine his future this time. Not to be coerced into it by his willingness not to be responsible for the deaths of others.

But he was still weak. He was still on the brink of falling back into that black abyss of misery. He didn't know what to do. He growled. He was now used to not having to decide anything. He wasn't supposed to have to decide something like this at any rate.

Okay, well he had decided to stay sane now what was he supposed to do. It wasn't like he could walk up to Hogwarts and ask the house elves for a cookie. He snorted. Good work thinking ahead. He mentally congratulated himself.

He couldn't stay in his basilisk form, it was too dangerous, he would be noticed and Dumbledore's alliance with the centaurs would definitely get him in trouble.

Then there was that darned letter. It lay in front of him. Luckily the words hadn't been smeared by the tears, he brushed them off the almost empty page. He sighed.

He was so weak. The thought made him just want to burn something. He was so weak he couldn't even block a stupid memory out of his mind. It wasn't supposed to be this difficult. Then again he wasn't supposed to want forgiveness for something that wasn't his fault from someone who didn't trust him enough to believe in his innocence. Then why couldn't he walk away? Why couldn't he resign himself to live as a hermit somewhere?

His anger built, the urge to burn something grew. He knew the answer. Because he cared. And he would always care. Stupid Potter, always worried about what everyone else thought. Well everybody hates you. That's what everybody thinks. You're dumb, stupid, not to mention evil, you're a traitor oh and you've earned the title Recreant. On top of that you're pathetic and weak. That's what everybody believes and yet you can't accept it enough so you're going to write Dumbledore a 'letter' begging for his forgiveness. You pathetic little twit. You vile, dumb arsed stupid, pathetic, measly, wretched, weak, useless

Suddenly a tree to the side of Harry burst into flame, dark black flame.

Harry looked at it silently. He started trembling and his voice quivered

"No?"

He paused, his eyes begging, he couldn't take this on top of everything else. He looked down at his hands. They looked the same. He pointed his palm at another tree and slowly willed it to burst into flame. Nothing happened.

He sighed with a small smile.

"Thank you."

He couldn't deal with that. He turned his mind to other things.

He would definitely have to write that letter to Dumbledore, but it was getting dark so he would have to start that tomorrow. He would definitely need to find somewhere to sleep though and he was stuck on that account?

"Unless?"

He could take his other form; he doubted they would be unusual to find in the forbidden forest. But he didn't like his second form. It was his own but? It wasn't so much the animal but what the animal symbolised, and what it symbolised was just depressing. I mean who wanted to symbolise death?

It was ironic and depressing. Harry himself was responsible for so many deaths. Not that he had killed heaps and heaps of people, just more that people had died simply because he lived and simply because others wanted to kill him. He hadn't killed them but he might as well have because they died because of him all the same.

He could stay in his animagus form? sleep in it, hunt in it?

It was okay now though, nobody could die because of him any more. He just had to try and not think about it. He smiled softly, that was what he would do. He was just about to shift when some soft words made his heart drop cold.

"Who'ss there? Who causst the sshadow flame? Only one other hass casst it in ssenturiess, and he iss long gone and not welcome here. Who iss there?..."



Authors note: yada ? yada ? yada ? yada ?

Anybody do Greek? ; )

THANKEE to all my reviewers :) ah I love you all. I'll spare you the corny hugs.
I'm really sorry but i can't be bothered to answer all my reviews, I promise to answer any next chapter... I'm just a lazy bum. Thanks to all of you :) .

Oh and yeah, to all of you who wanted to know Harry's other animagus form... HEHE! >:D You'll just have to wait, though I added heaps of clues in, it's kinda obvious... :( actually maybe I just think it's obvious but it isn't... I dunno, heheh :D. I promise to tell you soon though. I promise, really.

To everbody reading this, thanks.

robbly