Wolverine as he was called by his teammates or Logan as he was called by Professor Charles Xavier, made his way out of his room and through the mansion/school. He headed for the kitchen for his morning cup of Coffee and his newspaper. The students who saw him avoided him like the plague, do to the fact he was not a morning person (or any time of day person) and talking to him before his coffee, would get you early morning training session.

He grunted to those teachers who said good morning to him, before poring himself a cup of coffee and grabbing the newspaper, before sitting down. As Wolverine read through the newspaper he came across various murders, and that there had been ton's of gasleaks, which led to houses blowing up, at random.

Something tickling in the back of his mind, something he ought to know, to remember. But as he tried to grasp it, it slipped further and further away. When he flicked to the front of the newspaper he was surprised to see a Wanted page, with a green eyed black haired boy, it read Harry Potter, Escaped Prison, Armed and Dangerous.

Wolverine clutched his head in pain, it was not a headache or even physical, it was mental, as if something was attempting to push past the barrier, something he couldn't remember, like it was a word that you knew but couldn't remember, you know you know it, but it just won't come no matter how hard you try.

The pain dimmed and his vision righted it's self, he made his way through the school, heading for Professor Xavier's office. As he reaches it, the door opens on it's own and Professor Xavier said "Logan, your mental pain disturbs me greatly, your mind wants to know this information, but part of you doesn't want to. Therefore I will give you a choice, to recover this memory or for me to push it deeper into your mind."

Wolverine said "Show it to me Chuck."

With that the Professor closed his eyes and Wolverine felt a mental probe, and then the office faded from his view.

(Logan's POV)

I'm completely tired as if I sleep very little, even though I now sit here in pure boredom, in my dank, cold, muddy, dirty cell, that has my own shit and urine in some places. Although I am aware I don't look to good myself I need a hair cut, Even though I don't have a mirror I can tell you exactly what I look like, I look like hell, I am skin and bones, from the lack of edible food, I'm wearing stained prisoner robes, that are stained with mud, and urine.( from my first month in here)

I am slowly going crazy, whether it's from the Dementors or just being stir crazy, I don't know what day, week, month, or year it is, but I do know this, Azkaban is hell, I don't know how Sirius survived here, every minute, hour, day, seems like an eternity, I have been on the edge of killing myself so many times, and have been back in forth between being sane and insane, but I figured out a way for the Dementors not to effect me, I had to face and conquer my worst memories, which I did, I fought and beat them all. But I have to do that every time I wake up from sleeping. The funny thing is, that I now consider this my home, some home this is, I am given stale bread, and a little dirty water, to wash the bread down with, I live in a 10 by 10 cell, that has Dementors, guarding just outside of it 24/7. Although they won't be guarding me for much longer. Tomorrow is the day I escape from this Hell-hole, though means I hope I would never have to take, but I can't live this way anymore.

I feel the cold in the air disappear rapidly, which means someone is coming, because that is the only time the Dementors do leave, my cell door swings open, and in walks Remus J Lupin, I pretend to be insane, well because if he was here to get me out then he would, be sad at what he did to me, if not well then that is what he expected of me, and I am going to give him a show, I stare at one of the bricks that are lining my cell, and make my eyes have insane look to them, I then start mumbling to my self words of the insane quality, things such as "We know the truth." "We is innocent" and then in snake-tongue "When things are found, forgiveness is not."

Lupin then walks closer to me, and I sit there in my corner, mumbling these things, Lupin reaches out and grabs me by the arm, and swiftly uppercuts me in the face, at which point he lets go. I start mumbling "I'm sorry, I did not kill them, I'm sorry, It wasn't me, Remus you believe me don't you?" Remus takes another look at me and stares at my face and then spits on it, and says "Happy one year anniversary, Traitor. If it where up to me, you should have received the Kiss, I'm Glad your insane, well actually I'm not, because if you weren't then you would be able to feel this!" and with that he kicks me in the stomach. As he exits the room he says "Your parents are probably Rolling in there graves because of your betrayal. Here's the newspaper although I doubt you will ever get read it." I then hear the door close and feel the coldness sweep back over me.

I read over the paper, Harry Potter, Scheduled for the Dementor's kiss at Sunset, December 1st 1997.

(general POV)

Sunrise the next day

Harry watched it rise for one final time, before taking a knife and dragging it across his wrist only to have it heal instantly, he tried it again, only to get the same results. Harry wished with all his might, he could get out of Azkaban, no matter what, only to have a portal of some kind open up under him, and for him to fall though.

End Memory.

Logan's eye's snapped open, and he looked at the calendar, it read December 2nd 1997. That made no sense after all he was here yesterday, and yet according to the memories, he wasn't. He was no genius, but he figured he had somehow managed to make himself Time travel, maybe with the help of someone in the future or past.

With that Logan spun around and headed out of Professor Xavier's office, despite the Professor calling him back, using both his voice and his Telepathic powers. Wolverine told him he need some time to himself, with that Wolverine picked up the pace and jumped onto his motorcycle and roared off.

AN: Review and let me know what you think.