Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all the other characters in this fic belong to very talented ppl that are most certainly not me. I am poor. Please don't sue me.,

AN: Ok some warnings first. This is my very very first fanfic EVER! I have read fanfics for over four years now and I hope that this story meets my own expectations.

The song belongs to Brian Adams, and its called 'sound the bugle'

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did inside my head!

August 1st, before 6th year

Thirteen. You know thinking about it, it seems like such a small number. Strange really… I remember hearing about buildings that skipped making the thirteenth floor because of the superstition. Kinda silly really. I wonder if Hogwarts has a thirteenth floor, heh, probably has a few of them! Wait. Thirteen, yes thirteen lines. There are thirteen bars on my cell too! Six on the window, and seven on the door near the floor.

He looked through the bars near the foot of his door to see the dark empty cell across from his. Pretty much all of the cells around his were empty. The reason being that he was in the juvenile cellblock of Azkaban. He was to young to be placed in the deeper parts of the prison, where the dementors stood by your cell day and night. He supposed that he would be moved there once he became seventeen, but that wasn't for another year now. Another twelve lines.

Harry looked over to the marks on the wall. There were many things on the wall actually. He had used the metal leg from his so called bed that had fallen off in the first month in his stay to carve words and sayings into the walls. Now they were carved with everything from sayings he remembered from his friends, to nursery rhymes that he had heard said with such love to a person that wasn't him through his cupboard door. But Harry was looking at the lines that marked his door. One for each month he had spent here. He had kept track of time with the moon phases. Even in the first few months he had kept track. He shudders now to remember those months. They had been the worst. The Dementors had been ecstatic with the new prisoner, and the effects they could have on him. Often they would stay by his cell much longer than they were supposed to. It had been pure never ending torture. But what made it worse was the silence. Not actual silence mind you. No, Azkaban was filled with the screams and moans of the suffering inhabitants. No it was the silence of his friends. The only true family he had ever had. There had been nothing, not a word from them. Even on Christmas, when he had seen the families of the prisoner three cells down come to visit, they did not come.

He supposed that's when he lost his hope. He remembered the looks they had given him during his trial. Mock trial more like. He had been put under a silencing spell before he had entered the room, and was forced to watch as classmate after classmate took the stand and told how he loved public attention, and getting in danger with no regards for the safety of others. How he complained about his family, how they mistreated him. How he had become dark. Exaggerations and rumors mixed well to form a solid case against him. He wasn't even allowed to defend himself under the explanation that if he was able to throw off the imperious curse, what was to stop him from throwing off the truth serum. In fact the silencing charm only broke after they had pronounced him guilty, and he was free to scream of his injustice as he was dragged away. The last sight he remembered before entering this hell was the faces of his friends. All of their eyes full of hurt and distrust. They thought him guilty.

And so he was dragged off to the island on which sat the fearsome prison. His too big cousins clothes were traded for the standard Azkaban robes that made him itch. His glasses were taken from him too. Glass was considered a weapon. His belongings had been taken away and his money seized by the ministry. The only thing he was allowed to keep were his shoes.

The only reason he was still semi sane would be the fact that he knew he was innocent. Oh he knew he was no longer the picture of mental health, but he was better off than those raving lunatics a few floors below.

'Hmmmmmm I wonder if Azkaban has a thirteenth floor…. The whole bloody thing must be a thirteenth floor!' At this Harry began to chuckle. Oh yes not insane but definitely not sane either.

He was brought out of his random musing with the sound of footsteps. This was rare as dementors don't have feet. Harry looked through the bars at the foot of his door to see two guards in Azkaban Garb leading a short prisoner with red cropped hair into the cell opposite his. 'New Blood' Thought Harry, as the guards turned and left. He peered though the bars and into the newbie cell. 'Wonder what they did, to be walking in here.' No one walks into Azkaban, they were dragged.

Unfortunately He was not able to ponder much more on this subjects as the cold feelings that signaled the returning Dementors settled into his bones.

Many Agonizing hours later the dementors left the young prisoners to their nightmares. Harry recalled hearing the new prisoner moaning a weeping in their cell. He lay curled up in his corner for a little while longer, resting his body. 'what I wouldn't give for chocolate now' He thought, and then when on to list the different types of chocolate he would have should his innocence ever be proven. His chocolate musings were stopped however, by the sounds coming from outside his cell.

There, there it was again. Humming. The new prisoner was humming to themself! He shuffled closer to the bars to better hear the tune. It would be a refreshing change from all the screams and moans from all the other prisoners.

The tone was low and mournful, and very very sad. Harry was about to turn away when the humming became words. She, and she was a she now that he could hear her voice, sang the words to the mournful tune, her voice drifting like water to his ears. The words told a story about loosing yourself and having nothing to live for, nothing to go on for.

Harry sighed at her words looking away from her cell. 'Shes only been here for one night, and shes already broken' he thought sadly, as she returned to humming. What was he holding on for? Why didn't he submit to the insanity like everyone else. It wasn't like he was going to escape this place. And even if he did, he would be alone. There was nothing left for him anywhere.

He paused again as the songbird began a new verse. She continued to sow the story of abandonment and wanting to give up.

All of a sudden her voice rang out strong with emotion, the song telling him to "Remember who you are. If you loose your self, your courage soon will follow, So be strong tonight, remember who you are!"

His eyes widened at these words and looked back through the bars only to see a pair of light blue eyes staring straight back at him as she finished the song with the saying that his freedom was worth fighting for. Without taking her eyes off his she finished her song, a coy smile upon her lips.

"Hello Harry Potter, The boy-who-killed."