Title: Signore Delle Ombre
Author: The-Writer-Formerly-Known-As
Summary: The Summer before sixth year, Harry finds himself abandoned by those that call themselves the light. Sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, he is forced to explore his growing and unusual powers, make new alliances, and form a new inner circle with those whose loyalties did not waver- although they are few, far between, and those that Harry would not have turned to before. Let the Battle Begin.
Character Types: Betrayed! Superpowered! Harry, Evil! Dumbledore, Stupid! Blind! Order of the Chicken, various others you will have to find throughout
SHIPs: TBD, most likely no slash
Disclaimer: Does NOT belong to me. Everything neat and pretty? Then on with the show! (that's not mine, either!)
To me belongeth vengeance and recompence; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste.
- Deuteronomy 32:35
Chapter Three: Welcome to the Land of Nightmares
Night. Somewhere, someplace, perhaps people were laughing, playing, singing- being joyful. But here- on this night- here, in this place- there never was any joyful laughter; only the insane, out of your mind, crazy laughter that showed those who came to listen that this place was truly one of madness.
And of nightmares.
The prison fortress loomed blackly on the island that it got it's name from- or, perhaps, the prison had been named first, and maybe at one point the island had been named something else.
No one was quite sure, to be truthful. None of the Wizarding world, anyway.
In the bowels of the fortress, a lone man paced his cell.
One, two, three, turn. One, two, three, turn.
Although small, he found it almost- homey- in comparison with the cupboard he had lived in for most of the first ten years of his life.
No, the size of the cell wasn't the bad thing about the prison at all. It was the Dementors- the creatures of black and night and fear and sorrow and pain- his worst fear, his only fear.
Being in high security didn't help things. As he was Harry Potter, supposed right-hand man to the Dark Lord himself, the Aurors had been ordered to make sure that said person did not, under any means, escape.
Whoever had processed his file had obviously taken that to mean the more Dementors outside his cell, the better.
Before, during the rare moments when his Godfather had broken down and talked of his days here, at this place of nightmares, Harry had never expected to eventually have to live the words the only father figure in his life had once spoken. And more than that- words could not do the prison any true justice.
He knew that, under normal circumstances- like, say, his third year Quidditch game- he'd still be unconscious; he simply would have been dragged to prison, and never have woken up again. As the Auror who had brought his food- watered-down gruel, a thin slice of moldy bread, and some stale water- had sneeringly informed him, he was a special case.
Pain.
The first thing he became aware of when he regained consciousness was the excruciating pain.
The next thing he heard was the screaming.
Not only his parents- but also the many victims of Voldemort he had seen over the years in various visions- and real life.
At first he could not discern where he was- but then he heard the laughter.
He thought, at one point, that it was the high-pitched laughter that had haunted his nightmares before, and that had taken over his days.
When he looked up, though, he discovered how wrong he was. An Auror sneered down at him- a middle-aged man, with premature wrinkles on the face because of the stress that working in Azkaban caused.
"Well, Potter," The man practically snarled, spitting saliva and particles of food all over Harry's face as he spoke. "It's good to see a murdering scum like you locked up. Shame you're too young for the Dementors to come and give you a… kiss."
The Auror smirked. "Maybe later, in a few years, you'll be begging for one. We- of the Azkaban Auror Association- have noticed something, Potter. You'd faint whenever you get close enough to the Dementors. And we can't have that now, can we?"
Harry looked wearily up at the man and wondered what further tortures the Wizarding world had to offer him.
He didn't have to think on it long before the man, eager to humiliate and lend a hand in the disgrace and torture of the 'murderer' Harry Potter, began to speak again.
"You see, you're in luck. Just in time to be the… guinea pig, I think muggles call it… for a little experiment of ours." The man gleefully rubbed his hands together. "In this prison, the spell will allot you five hours of sleep a night- we decided to be generous-, but the rest of the time, Potter, you'll be unable to close your eyes for more than the time it takes to blink, and you certainly will not be allowed to lose consciousness."
Harry stared at the man in horror. Although sleep was not an issue for him in the short run- he was used to not sleeping a whole night, due to the visions of Voldemort he got- over time Harry knew that even he would eventually be exhausted; too exhausted to put up even the slightest and most meager barriers to defend him in his sleep.
"Welcome to Azkaban, lad." The Auror said, ending his speech, before he roughly slid a tray underneath the door through a magically induced slot that close quickly after the tray came through, turned, and left.
Welcome to Hell on Earth.
Severus Snape scowled, gently massaging his head. He felt like he had been summoned and tortured brutally for failure the night before, but remembered nor knew of no summoning. In fact, if he remembered correctly, he was at an Order meeting last night.
The scowl deepened.
He was a cautious man by nature, - a spy had to be- and when he found a sizable chuck of his memory missing, he didn't know what to think. He made to get out of his desk chair, when he suddenly heard a loud noise coming from his classroom.
He entered slowly, expecting one of his 'friends', like Lucius Malfoy, or at least one of their spawn to be there with a question or a task for him. What met his eyes was totally unexpected, although he managed to mask his surprise well.
The current record holder of the most blown up cauldrons in all of Hogwarts, who had some how, miraculously enough, had managed to get into Snape's NEWT Potion class, Neville Longbottom, was currently trying to get off the floor from where he had landed in a heap following his entrance by floo powder into the classroom.
"Professor Snape!" The young man gasped out. "I need your help!"
A/N: Another chapter out. I apologize for the shortness, but my inspiration went here and… stopped. I thank everyone for their reviews, and while I will refrain from individual reviews, due to the fact I need to go and study for a Bio test coming up, I will answer some F.A.Q.s or things I feel should be cleared up. So here goes nothing…
(PotterScar) this chapter was "a bit confusing"…
Yeah. About that. It's going to continue being confusing for a while, since my main characters are confused. And as much as it's fun to give the reader more facts then the characters have (which will happen eventually), it's also fun to have you follow a character's thought process! I know it's a bit evil, but it should work out. If it seems totally confusing to you, just ask me in the review and I'll try to clear it up (if it doesn't affect the plot)
Concerning Updates:
I have my exams coming up, so I have to be cracking down on that. Besides, I've been eagerly awaiting Star Wars III for years now (even more than my own sister's graduation!) so I have to go see that. May 19th, May 19th! I will be able to update more frequently over the summer, and I will try my hardest to get in another update before June. Maybe if I get enough reviews? They provide me with inspiration! Sorry 'bout updates… I just don't want to fail my courses. ...cringe...
Please Review! This is my first fanfic, so I love to hear from all of you! Also, a question: What SHIPs, if any, do you think should be in this fic? Input is important to me, and I have several ways I can go with this, so tell me what you want/think!