I don't own the characters and all that. A very grateful thanks to Mashkai30 for reviewing. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I admit to being quite distracted by life events and reading the lovely stories of many other authors on this site. Currently, I suggest you check out Black Coat by Hermione Prime in your free-time.

Update 12/24/18 -

On the Wrong Side of Sanity

Chapter 9: Without a Set of Claws

Sorrows gather around great souls as storms do around mountains;

But, like them, they break the storm and purify the air of the plain beneath them.

.
-Jean Paul

I stared down at my hands, thin and cracked as they were. There still seemed to be dirt and grime under my nails that I just couldn't wash away. Still, I was cleaner and felt better than I had in such a long time. Regular sleep could do that for you.

Still, I wasn't exactly happy. I was trapped, although this cage was better stocked than my cell in Azkaban. I could get out of bed, I could roam the halls under the watchful eyes of the Order, but I could not go outside. Although it was better, it was not freedom. Even through my dissatisfaction, I was glad to have contact with my two best friends when they could get away from work. They visited whenever they had the time, and obviously when there was a meeting for the order. Dumbledore had banned me from attending the meetings, something that strained the relationship between us. But there was more going on, I could feel it.

The Headmaster acted different around me now; more reserved, cautious even. It seemed like even he who once nearly felt like family, a grandfather through sentiment, felt uneasy around me, as if I might suddenly attack without provocation. Worse than that, he kept my wand from me. My wand, which he had somehow saved from destruction, was out of my reach. It felt like he was holding a dear friend hostage.

Like he was holding part of me hostage.

I turned in bed, trying to get comfortable again and perhaps fall back to sleep. The frost on the window of my room caused the whole pane of glass to glow from the moonlight and cast gentle shadows around the room. The silence of the winter was both comforting and unnerving, and it made it hard to slip into sleep. My mind replayed the sounds of crying and moaning of the prisoners that had once surrounded me, sounds that had become so normal for me after years in the prison. The new silence was almost oppressing. Yet the silence signified something for me. It was change, for there was never such calm silence in Azkaban.

Another turn on the bed, and my discomfort eased, allowing my eyes to slip shut.

…

A small smile spread on my face as I heard the front door close and the exclamations of today's visitors. Ron and Hermione, shaking off the cold from outside, strode into the kitchen in high spirits like always when they came by to see me. Today marked the second week of staying at Grimmauld Place. Two weeks of nearly unending rest and not-quite-relaxation. I was bored stiff while Ron and Hermione went to work, or whenever they were kept cooped up in meetings for the Order. I was still miffed about being barred from them by Dumbledore, but at least my friends told me whatever they were able.

Today, however, was simply a day to spend together and continue to repair the friendship that had essentially been put on hold during my stay in prison. It was still weird to talk to them at times; to remember that they were no longer the same people that I had known when I had been taken away. They were adults, with jobs and everything. I sometimes felt so out of my depth when confronted with the fact that I had missed that major life transition. I still felt like a kid in some ways and yet even older than them in others.

"Hey Harry! Sorry we're a bit late today. I was held up with a bit of extra training," called Ron as he set his coat aside.

"Don't worry, I've nowhere to be," I said, only with the barest amount of irritation. I was proud of that, too.

"Not to worry, mate. You'll be allowed out and about in no time, probably." He was simply being optimistic, but it helped nonetheless.

"Harry, when I last spoke to Professor Dumbledore, he said that he would try to make time to talk to you about something. He didn't mention what it was, though," Hermione said, a pensive look flitting across her face.

"Don't worry about it," I replied, although I felt a little edgier after hearing that he wanted to speak. "I'm sure I'll find out soon." With that taken care of, our conversation turned once again to unimportant matters.

…

"Harry! It's been a while since we have talked!" The voice was rough around the edges, and tired sounding, but I knew immediately who it was.

"Remus!" I exclaimed, looking up from reading material given to me by Hermione. I wasn't usually big on reading, but things could change when you were bored enough.

"Harry, I wanted to say that I'm sorry," Remus started. I couldn't imagine what he was apologizing for.

"What? Why?" I asked.

"First Sirius and then you. Neither of you ever deserved to be sent to Azkaban. I wish I could have done more for you –."

"Remus, you couldn't have done anything. So just forget about it." Also, I was sick of people referring to the prison by now, and if they all just forgot it happened, that would be fine by me.

"Just remember, if you ever need to talk, about anything, just tell me," Remus said, looking at me with concern. A second later I was enveloped in an unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome, hug. "There is an Order meeting tonight. Afterwards, Albus has informed me that he would like to speak to you," he informed me after letting me go. I nodded my understanding. Remus sent one more smile my way before heading for the usual meeting room while I sat down and waited for the thing to end, only slightly irritated by the reminder that I couldn't participate in these meetings.

What seemed like hours later, the door to the meeting room opened and released a flow of witches and wizards, some of whom I was familiar with, all heading out of the house. Soon the hall was quiet once more with only a few Order members left behind chatting to one another, and I turned my attention back to the book in my lap out of boredom.

A minute later, Dumbledore strode into the room with authority, as he always seemed to do. He answered the greetings given by present Order members quickly, and made his way over to where I was sitting. I still had a bit of unresolved hostility for him, though I think I hid that quite well. The Headmaster sat down across from me and erected a privacy ward.

"How are you doing here, my boy? I certainly hope that you are recovering from your ordeal nicely." It wasn't what I wanted to talk about, but I went along with it. When did the Headmaster ever get straight to the matter?

"I'm doing better." There, I had put effort into a decent response.

"And how about your friends, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasely? I hear that they visit nearly every day. Have you been able to catch up?" His eyes were sparkling. This couldn't be the reason that he stopped by to talk to me, but he had to be honestly happy to see the three of us together and part of the so-called 'Golden Trio' once again.

"Yes, Headmaster. It's really good to see them again." I replied.

"Good, good," he said distractedly. "I know that you have been somewhat…impatient to have your wand returned to you. I have been-"

"Will I be getting it back now?" I asked hurriedly. I wouldn't feel whole again until I had my wand once more. I had been asking Dumbledore about it every chance I had since being moved to Grimmauld Place.

"Please let me finish." I nodded, but my hand twitched with the desire to throttle the man keeping me from using my magic. My heritage. That thought made me pause, because it didn't even feel like mine. I had no time to think about it when Dumbledore began speaking again.

"I have been in contact with the Minister quite a bit. With the recent trouble with Voldemort, we feel that you will need a way to protect yourself. However, Minister Scrimgeour has voiced his concern over giving you a wand," he explained. I couldn't keep quiet after hearing that.

"But Headmaster! I need my wand! It's mine! Without it, it feels like I'm not myself! My magic feels locked away. I have a right to my wand!" Towards the end of my short rant, my voice became more of a harsh demand, and the chair beneath me groaned in protest to my movement. The Headmaster did not respond right away, only giving me a curious look that I couldn't interpret through my frustration.

"You will have your wand, my boy." His voice was genial, but the sparkle in his eye was absent. "You'll simply have to be patient. One must work with the Ministry, not against it, in order to get through this tough time. Should you have any reason to leave Grimmauld Place, you will be accompanied for your protection. Also," here, he paused as if he wasn't entirely sure about what he would say next. I had never seen this happen before. "Harry, should you want to talk to someone after what happened, please feel free to tell me or any of your friends."

I was taken aback by this, for it was not at all what I had expected. "Do you mean, like, a shrink?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"I can always find someone to talk to you about your experiences. Azkaban is a most heinous place, and many people who have been there even for a short time have a hard time recovering. Perhaps talking to someone who specializes in this field could help you." The Headmaster looked at me with a gentle face, but worry in his eyes that he couldn't seem to hide. I only felt a bit indignant.

"I'm not crazy." I wasn't.

"I know, my boy. Talking to someone does not mean that you are." With that, Dumbledore stood up. "Well, I must be off. Please think about what I said, and be patient. Things will soon calm down, and I am certain that you will be reunited with your wand."

I watched the old wizard leave the house quietly, angry, but not wanting to sulk like a child. I would show them that I was fine, and then I would have my wand again.

Feeling tired from the conversation that wasn't quite an argument, I went upstairs to my room.

…

A month later, and I was still holding on to the hope of getting my wand back, though my patience was thinner than ever. I was angry with Dumbledore for refusing me every time I asked, and sometimes I could just barely remain civil with him. It was awkward. I had never thought that I would be so at odds with the Headmaster. Today, I was visiting Wizarding London with the bodyguards that I did not want with me. The weather was still chill, as it always was in March, but at least there was no rain as of yet. Still, the sky did not look promising and, as much as I wanted to stay well away from my more comfortable prison, I wanted to be stuck outside in the rain even less.

I had gotten permission to leave in order to make purchases of clothing and the like. That was the 'official' reason that I was free of the house for the day, however I was sure that my request to leave was granted out of the desire to make me a little less at odds with the Headmaster. I didn't think that would happen, though. Not until I once more had my wand.

My guards today were two people that I wasn't all that familiar with. They acted like Aurors, but were in civilian robes, so I couldn't be sure. Both of them were male and not talkative at all. The taller of the two often walked slightly ahead of me, guiding me from shop to shop with an efficiency that I didn't want. The smaller and slightly older-looking one stayed behind and looked around constantly while keeping an eye out for trouble. Still, though I wasn't a fan of the company that I had to keep, it was better than sitting in my room at Grimmauld Place as long as it didn't rain.

The three of us entered another store, this one selling all kinds of footwear. I took my sweet time looking at different kinds of shoes with various charms on them. Some of them simply repelled water while others allowed you to walk on top of water. Some were so thoroughly charmed with extra features that they seemed to almost glow with magic. The shoes truly didn't interest me all that much. I was just afraid that as soon as I finished my shopping, I would be herded back to the old house and likely wouldn't be able to escape for a long while after.

Eventually, the shifting of the guards, not to mention the less-than-cheerful stares they were sending me, prompted me to pick out a random pair of shoes and head to the counter to pay. I stared at the man behind it when he told me the price, feeling irritated.

"That's not how much these are worth." I stated blandly. The shopkeeper stared back at me, looking as if he was offended, so I picked some number slightly lower than what he had been accidentally projecting in his mind. "They're only worth about nine galleons, and you know it. The enchantments on these aren't all that great." The shopkeeper had a mind like an open book.

The shopkeeper puffed himself up importantly before responding. "I can only go as low as ten galleons and fifteen sickles."

I accepted his new offer, slightly surprised that he had relented so quickly. However, the very fact that he had tried to rip me off made me wonder. How many other shopkeepers had done the same when I shopped for school supplies in years past?

Soon after, I was once again walking outside and casting distrustful glances up at the gray sky. We were headed for another shop for me to pick up some more necessities when the trip was suddenly interrupted. A loud crash came from somewhere down the street and, of course, my first instinct was to head in that direction to make sure everyone was okay. People were whispering here and there about something, but I was soon crowded out by my bodyguards trying to lead me back into a shop and through the Floo system. It wasn't until we had made it all the way to a building that things began to pick up. I heard the screaming first, which had me turning around to try to see what was happening. It didn't matter that I didn't have my wand. I barely even thought of it. I wanted to help; to do something, anything, to help.

Past the bodies of the two guards with me, I saw some people running into various buildings while screaming. A group of people in long black robes and white masks explained what was going on easily. And still my bodyguards were doing nothing to help the civilians out in the streets, and instead where focused on getting me out. Our progress stopped as we neared the floo system that had already turned green signaling an arrival, hopefully of Aurors to halt the attack. I stared at the floo hopefully while the bodyguards peered outside to get a better idea of the danger.

Their concern with what was outside almost cost them. And me.

The figure that stepped out of the fireplace was also covered in dark robes and radiated ill intent. They had their wand raised and ready almost as soon as they took a step towards the door. A jump to the side was all that saved me from a dark green curse, and my surprised yell was the only warning that my bodyguards got before the cloaked man was upon them. Their fight was an awful mix of curses, dodging, and occasional blood from flying debris. The two verses one fight was in the favor of those guarding me, but unfortunately left me open to attack. With no wand to defend myself with, the curse that was sent my way caused me to fly back into a table littered with papers and books. The edge hit me hard, and I found it difficult to pick myself off of the ground and catch my breath. However, the sounds from the fight between the three people in the building were gone. Soon enough, one of the guards, the smaller one, hobbled over to me in order to check me over.

"You alright there?" he asked. Blood dripped down from somewhere in his hair and ran down his neck into his robe. He seemed rather unconcerned with it.

"Yeah." It came out more as a wheeze than I had hoped, but he understood me anyway.

"Alright then, get yourself through the fireplace. We need to hurry this along before anyone else pops out," he grunted at me. I only took a glance at the fireplace before turning back to him in concern.

"What about the other guy? And the people out there?"

"Not my job. Gerald will be fine, now go." He was obviously not a patient man. Besides that, it struck me as slightly callous for him to be so wholly unconcerned with the other people out on the streets. But hell, what could I do? I didn't even have a wand.

With that, I uneasily made my way over to the fireplace, picked up some of the remaining floo powder, and called out my destination.

…

…

I'm still looking to see if anyone is interested in creating the cover art!

Also, to everyone reading! Reviewing a story truly helps authors on these sites write more! Helpful criticism leads them to develop as a writer, and simple encouragement spurs them to write more. If you simply review one story out of the many that you might read in a day, even if it isn't mine, you greatly help all of those writers out there trying to whip up something entertaining for the massive number of readers that use this site every day.

.

Lastly, I want to wish you all Happy Holidays. Hopefully you can spend it with the family.