Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Harry Potter, or it's characters.

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Last time:

"What were you doing when the crime occurred?"

"I was preparing to leave the Wizarding world." I felt a immense feeling of 'oops' at that statement, but I am sure I would have laughed out of the irony of it all if I had the ability to do so.

Sometimes it's just too much.
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Chapter 6: Results and Appearances

So I sat, calmly amused, as half the wizarding population ran about like headless chickens. I know I should have reacted more violently to the trial and the day's events, but I think I was in shock. It was all happening too quickly, coupled with the pain that was just setting in from the beating the aurors subjected me to... it was a wonder I had lasted as long as I had before consciousness rejected me.

I couldn't help but think, on those last few seconds before the enclosing darkness took me, that I would make an excellent picture for the front page of the Prophet. Really, wouldn't the image of me slumped over in that hard stone chair, blood seeping from the cut on my forehead and lip, give the public something to really gossip about. I need something to laugh about, and the guilt on their faces when they see the picture and the title 'HARRY POTTER-INNOCENT?' would definitely be a highlight for years to come.

When I woke from the 'trial incident', (I had a nice mental snicker at that title) I had a minor start at the color white assaulting my eyes. I even believed I was dead for a moment, but only until I noticed the lime green robes of a healer invade the whiteness. I wasn't embarrassed for believing I was dead, it might seem odd to some, but Azkaban only hosted the colors black, grey and even more grey. It was a very grey place. After some odd years as an unwilling prisoner the colors become what you expect to see.

If I expected anything else I'd start considering taking back that 'sane' assessment I gave myself.

The white, however, was not something that would spare and Azkaban prisoner any pain. Not like I would have liked white to be my first sight to see even before I was sentenced to that hell. If I ever see Madam Pomphrey again it would be too soon. Actually, if I ever see anyone I attribute to that accursed school it would be too soon. I'd probably end up throwing some nasty curses at them...

I would need a wand for that though, and my lack of one, well lets just say it threw a large wrench in that plan.

"Mr. Potter? Oh! It is so good to see you awake!" She had a wide, cheerful smile on her face, a Hufflepuff, no doubt. While I mentally smacked myself for thinking about that place, the healer had brought over a tray of potions. She seemed to check the quality of the potion, or maybe searching for poisons before shoving one of the vials in my face. I was actually quite relieved she might be checking for poisons, I knew a lot of poisons, and only a few were painless. Not fun. "Now, drink this healing potion, it will clear up the remainder of those bruises."

I was actually going to do as she asked, really, no questions asked, but I couldn't move my damn arms! To be perfectly honest, I was sick of being restrained. I was certain I was exonerated from my supposed 'crimes' so why was I being restrained? I asked as much. "What was my verdict?" I could tell she was getting frustrated by me not taking the potion, but she answered anyway. I had to give her points for patience, at least.

"You've been cleared of all charges-" She started, but I interrupted her, raspy voice and all.

"So then why am I still being restrained?" I knew I was glaring, hell, I was pissed. I could tell I was going to have a phobia of any sort of binding curse, now. I could just imagine myself now; Fighting in a battle and someone sends a simple binding curse at me and I throw a killing curse back in response. Okay, not really an imaginative response, but I'm trying to be honest, here. No use lying to myself.

The healer was responding now, the comical expression of 'Oh' was releasing its control on her facial features and a 'Finite Incantrum' was sent my way. "Those damn aurors! I told them an unconscious patient has no need to be restrained. Honestly, 'for his own health'!" I tuned her out after that and started taking the potion. I don't know what I regret more about drinking the damn thing, the fact the potion tasted better than the slop that prison fed me, or the purple boot print on my arm fading.

I decided not to dwell on it and pay more attention to the healer who was shoving another potion in my face. I wanted to say something cruel to her, a sign I was bitter as hell for sure, but my throat hurt again. Not to mention the muscles in my face seizing from my lack of use of them. I was really quite lucky I didn't have much of a reason to smile; I don't think I could have gotten my face to work properly.

Maybe this is why released or escaped prisoners don't talk/smile much, but I doubted it.

"Mr. Potter! I won't tell you again. Drink your potion." I drank the potion, if only to hide the scowl I had the thought of this healer being a mix between Snape and McGonagall. It was a frightening thought. Especially mixed with that 'Hufflepuff' bit. "There, now that should help repair some of the damage that place caused. Tomorrow a representative from the ministry and Gringotts will be coming to update you on your status and to run you through a few forms and such."

I was curious about this, thinking 'About what?' Yeah, it was rather obvious what I was thinking. I felt a need to say something though, and I didn't want to sound insane by blurting out whatever came to my mind, it seemed to have bad effects, so I just asked when visitors will be allowed. It was more of a safety concern, I hadn't completely forgot about Voldemort's living status, but that nagging fear that I would be faced with some of my 'friends' was definitely an issue.

It wasn't that I didn't want to see them; it was more that I wanted to see them too much. I knew I was betrayed, and I definitely hated that thought and feeling. My thoughts and emotions were so muddled I'm not even sure if I miss them or just want to see them so I could beat them into a bloody pulp with one of those hospital trays. Hell, I wasn't exactly sure how I was betrayed. I can barely remember anything of that night, or the trial after it. I needed to know. I needed to know pretty quickly too, apparently.

"Oh, visiting hours will open on Thursday." My glare/questioning look was enough for her to clarify. "Well, today's Tuesday, so the day after you speak to the Ministry and Goblin representatives all those people who requested to come see you finally can!" She obviously thought this would comfort me.

She was wrong of course; this did nothing to comfort me. I only had two days to catch up on what I missed while I was imprisoned! Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to know, but I needed to know what I stood against, and what I could get away with. From my trial they know of my intentions of leaving the wizarding world, so I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't let me leave. The ministry, however, if I go off what I knew of it before Azkaban, they would rather see me fade into the background. Dumbledore taking Fudge's place at my trial was not to be ignored, though, he was obviously in the good graces of the ministry again.

He might even be the minister now, for all I know.

So I resolved to fix this 'minor' lack on knowledge. I asked in a kind voice, or as close as I could come to it, "Could you get me today's Prophet?" It was a start, I figured. The fact it was only the beginning made me even more infuriated when the Healer hesitated. Perhaps she had been given orders to keep all news from my hands, or maybe she didn't want to upset me by giving me an article that was, no doubt, about my own innocence. It didn't matter to me what reasons she had, though, all that mattered was she was decreasing my chances of getting away from my 'friends'. I was very, very angry.

Apparently, my temper precedes me, however. She was very agreeable to fulfilling my request once she saw my aura extending. It normally wouldn't happen, but the magic dampening wards on Azkaban kept a lot of my magic backed up, and emotions have always been an outlet for my magic.

I almost regretted asking for the damn thing when I finally got it, though. They didn't get my best side!

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Edited 5-16-06

Original Notes: Not extremely happy with this chapter, but I figured I'd probably post it sometime this millenia. Don't ask how many versions I went through to get this, because you might be disappointed... Alright! I hardly looked at it! Geesh, I am stressed in classes, I'm trying to focus on that for once. Thing I'm least happy about? Harry was lacking his dry humor I've come to like so much... (-sigh-) it just wouldn't work! One thing's for sure, I need to come back when I'm all finished with this and revise it, make the chapters flow together better.

Thanks for the reviews (-sniff-) 19 reviews, 1300 hits, for one chapter? I feel so loved! But really, get a life. ;)