Prologue
Cold and alone
Harry Potter sat staring absently at the dank cold wall in front of him. He was only seventeen, not even half-way through his life, he should be worrying about girls, NEWTs exams, what he would do after he finished school; not resigning himself to spending the rest of his life locked up in this small dark, dingy, cold cell when his only crimes where not allowing himself to be manipulated and for saving the wizarding world, no the whole world, from the dark lord and his followers. Though to be fair it was by his chose that he was here, he could have easily ran or he could escape, and the elves had offered him a home with them but he had declined, he didn't fit in with them, after all he wasn't an elf, and that all he had ever wanted; so he had allowed the wizarding world to catch him and lock him away, and here he was, cold, alone and in pain, the story of his life.
As the dementors stood guard he relived the pain and loneliness that was his life. He remembered the day his best friends Ron and Hermione turned against him scorning him, he remembered the day his godfather, Padfoot, and Moony died saving him, he remembered the day his mentors Kingsely, Moody, and Tonks died, he remembered the day Dumbledore betrayed his trust and turned against him, he remembered the day his parents died for him, he remembered the day most of the Weasleys died leaving only Percy and Ron, he remembered the day Hogwarts, his home, fell, all of these memories and more washed over him every second, every minute, every hour, of every day over and over the pain never dulling, the only relief when he blacked out from exertion and even then not much as he would soon dream; with dreams as bad as waking moments.
He some how retained his sanity though whether this was a blessing or not he wasn't sure. About a month after he arrived the Aurors stationed at the prison (more like hell-on-earth) decided to have some fun with him so about once a week the would come to his cell and the dementors would move away, they would torcher him into unconsciousness, though judging from the pain he was in when he woke he could tell they continued even after he was out of it.
And so time passed, and Harry sat patiently in his little cell waiting for the time when he would start the next great adventure, when he would finally be with those he loved once more.
While Harry was resigned to live out the rest of his life in that cell until he died someone, or should I say something had a different idea….
Little did Harry know but his life was about to get far more complicated then sitting around in a cell in Azkaban waiting to die…
