Another chapter and another suggestion on a story that could catch your interest. Knives in the Dark by Norrrrrrrrr. Check it out, I dare you. Don't be surprised if you get hooked.

A thanks to blackcallalily, ElDani, lordamnesia, and anarion87 for your reviews. A special thanks to the unnamed guest who wrote a very appreciated review of their thoughts regarding this story. Thanks! Hopefully this chapter begins to answer your concerns regarding the plot.

Another thanks to all of those who have followed or favorited this story! Think of this extra fast chapter as an early Christmas present.

Update 12/25/18- only some tiny changes made to this chapter.

On the Wrong Side of Sanity

Chapter 10: The Tool of Wizards

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host.

But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.

-Maya Angelou

"He might not have died!"

"You know it is not my place to question the instructions of Minister Sc-"

"That's just bullshit! It's never stopped you before!"

"Now you just sit down and listen to the Headma-"

"No! I won't! So stop trying to butt in! Headmaster, I didn't even like the guy, but if I had my wand at the time things could have been different!"

"Now Harry, you must understand that this was for your own safety as well as for others'."

"I'm not buying that. It didn't feel safe."

A vase of flowers overturned onto the floor from what must have been a gust of wind from an open window. The sound startled me, and I looked down. The act of looking away from Dumbledore was enough to let me calm down just a bit. Enough to stop yelling, at least.

The atmosphere in the living room was predictably tense after my short shouting match with the Headmaster. Mrs. Weasley stood off to the side looking absolutely appalled at my behavior, but I wasn't truly worried about it at the moment. It had taken two days for the complete body of Gerald Hoofsetter, the other guard for my outing to the village, to be found. He was one of the few to have died in the attack on the village, but when they found him, he had been torn apart. It seemed like whatever mistake that the Death Eaters had made during the beginning of their attack had given people enough of a chance to run and get out of the way. However, the few people that had stood their ground until the Aurors had made it to the scene hadn't fared very well at all. The press had a field day with it.

What seemed to feel even worse was that, with the high emotions, I could tell that Mrs. Weasley agreed with me, and yet she was still siding with the Headmaster.

"Harry, what would you have done if you had your wand then?" asked Dumbledore, sounding as if he was going to try to lead me to an epiphany that it was better that I didn't have my wand at my side. I wasn't going to buy this, no matter how he spun it.

"I could have helped, or stopped the attack on us, or hell, as least defended myself."

"Harry, my boy, if you had gone out to stand with those other unfortunate souls, we might have lost you as well. And your other guard would have certainly gone with you in an attempt to keep you safe. We could have easily lost all three of you," the Headmaster replied softly. Unfair, but at least slightly effective.

"I still want my wand back. This is absurd; me not having anything with me to defend myself with." I glowered at him for emphasis. The Headmaster gave me a long look, but seemed to eventually come to a decision.

"I will speak to the Minister about it. This was truly a close call. Perhaps you should consider relaxing within the confines of the house?" It felt like a low blow, nearly an accusation that it was my fault that this had happened in the first place, though he probably didn't mean it that way. A call from the entryway diffused the remaining tension, and the old wizard stood from his chair to say his goodbyes as Ron entered the room. Ron stopped and looked at the three of us in the room, likely catching on fastest to his mother's unhappy expression, but he said nothing about it. It was almost as if he had learned a bit of tact in the past few years, for which I was grateful. I was certain that Mrs. Weasley was very close to giving me a lecture about proper behavior, and anything could set her off.

"Harry, you interested in a game of chess?" I had to smile at him as his mother simply huffed and made her way into the kitchen to prepare lunch.

…

I could feel the power of my wand as it was brought to me. It felt amazing, like I was finally myself again. It was the happiest that I'd felt in a long while just to see it. And suddenly it was in my hand again.

Oh, I had missed this so much.

Feeling my fingers curve around the smooth wood, feeling the magic inside.

"Harry, are you ok? Hello? … Harry?" Ron's voice barely whispered across my ears, for my whole attention was focused on my wand.

Suddenly it sparked, nearly the same as what had happened when I had first picked up the wand after my eleventh birthday. But there was something different about it this time. The feeling that it gave me was strange.

Light built up around the tip of the wand, and then spread further down toward my hand. I wasn't exactly afraid, but confused. What was happening? I heard a scream coming from someone next to me and looked over to see Ginny just staring at the wand and yelling. I couldn't understand why. Another scream came from my other side, and there stood Hermione.

When I finally looked back to my wand, it burst. For the first time, I was afraid of it. My own wand seemed to have turned on me for no reason, like it was punishing me for something. I went to throw the wand away from me, but it hurt. It really hurt me.

I gasped loudly and clutched my hand near my chest, looking around the darkened bedroom. My knuckles and fingers stung rather badly from where I had apparently hit them on the headboard. No wand was in sight, but my dream made me shudder anyway. Could something like that actually happen? Could your own wand really reject you like that? Although I knew that it had only been a dream, it made me feel uneasy anyway.

But no, I was being silly.

Probably.

The night outside was calm and dark, with little light from the moon to see by. It was quite a contrast to my dream, and made it slightly easier to push the entire thing to the back of my mind.

Settling back down to sleep took some time, but I had plenty of it as everyone else was still asleep for the night.

…

A full week and a half after the attack, and I finally got good news. The Minister had agreed that it was necessary that I had my wand returned to me for safety. Apparently satisfied that I wasn't going to suddenly turn on my friends and attack them, he had given the Headmaster leave to give me my wand. My irritation over the matter was overshadowed by my excitement to see my wand again. With the knowledge that I would soon get to hold my wand again, the next twenty-four hours felt like torture.

When Dumbledore stepped through the door the next day, I was most certainly the first to greet him, although not with the warmest sentiments. However, when he pulled out the box that contained my wand, I just about forgot all previous grievances with the man. The Headmaster handed the entire box to me without a word, but offering a smile. I took the box from his hand almost reverently and opened it as if it was a precious gift.

It was, in a way.

When I finally felt the wood in my hand, it felt like home. Things felt right with the world, and more of my anger melted away. I could feel the connection that I held with my wand, and feeling that made me shiver at the possibility that this could have been lost to me.

"Harry, I would ask that you not use your wand for now but for the most extreme and dangerous situations. There are some remaining…tests that I would like to have completed on your wellbeing before you try your magic again. I am in the process of locating someone who has the needed items."

I looked at my Headmaster in alarm.

"Is there something wrong with my magic?" I asked, not sure what to believe.

"It is nothing to worry about, my boy. There are simply some records of…changes that some previous prisoner's experienced with their magic. Nothing too harmful. Still, I would prefer that you wait for the examination to be concluded before attempting to use your wand," he replied.

I nodded my assent to his request, my mind going back to my one nightmare not too long before I finally got my wand back. Not that I thought it would actually happen but, well, it was better to be safe, wasn't it?

In the next few days, I always had my wand with me wherever I went. It didn't matter that I wasn't supposed to use it yet, I just needed the thing with me. It was almost like I felt that, if it was out of my sight for too long a period, it would be snatched away from me again. The thought alone was enough to make me angry with anyone who might try.

Even with the promise to Dumbledore about not using magic, as well as my own hesitance due to a stupid nightmare, I wondered about using at least some small charm. That couldn't cause much harm, could it? Even just to prove to myself that everything was normal, that my magic was ok. That wouldn't be too bad. Still, I held myself in check.

What if something had gone wrong with my magic? That 'what if' terrified me.

…

A day or two of sitting around with the itch to use my wand slowly getting worse made me nearly twitchy. It only really got better when others were around to distract me, especially Ron or Hermione. Actually, I was waiting for them to stop by today like they had promised. They were running a bit late to have dinner with me, but that wasn't anything too unusual. A few more minutes of sitting near the fireplace and I was up again, feeling jittery. The sound of steps coming up to the door caught my attention, and I turned to look at the door as it opened to reveal my two friends. I smiled at them as they entered the house.

They didn't smile back, and that worried me. If not that, then the serious looks on their faces.

"…what?" I enquired. Hopefully it wasn't anything do with the war against Voldemort.

"It's nothing," replied Hermione, a bit too quickly.

"Harry, it's just that there's some guy tha-"

"Ron! Headmaster Dumbledore wouldn't want us to-"

"Hermione! It has to do with Harry! He should know!" Ron exclaimed. I was rooting for Ron.

Hermione looked unsure of herself, and then nodded at Ron, who gave her a reassuring smile and then looked at me again.

"Harry, it's the press. Well, some guy who apparently looks like you was killing and torturing some people. We know it wasn't, but people are nervous. They're saying that you've gone mad." Ron shrugged apologetically.

"It's even easier for them to believe it this time because you've only just gotten out of Azkaban, Harry," continued Hermione.

"They've been wrong about me so many times. Haven't they learned by now?" I asked no one in particular. It was frustrating, but nothing that was new to me. I was just starting to hate those who looked to me for savior but then cried out for my blood whenever someone said something bad about me.

"The article about it isn't by Skeeter, for once. Must be someone who looks up to her, though," said Ron while tossing the paper in my direction.

I was almost scared to read it.

Attack by the Boy-Who-Lived!

Ms. Heather Wiltspire

Rumors about a young man attacking, killing, and sometimes even torturing people havebeen circulating for some time now. However, some brave souls have finally decided tocome forward to tell their story concerning events that have hurt them so deeply.

"I had thought it was just a nightmare, caused by the release of that Potter boy when the man first approached the house," said one woman who had been attacked while at home with her two grandchildren. "It was just so scary, you know, seeing a man stalk up to your house in the dead of night."

That's right! Some citizens of this fine country count the Boy-Who-Lived as a nightmare, but could there be some grounds for this apparent fear?

I interviewed five different people about these rumors of attacks. Some were unwilling to comment, however not all were so reserved.

"That's right, I have heard of the bloke! Sounds a bit bonkers, if you ask me," said one young man.

Another assured me that the rumors were true, saying that he had seen the cloaked man himself.

You might think to yourself that this doesn't seem to have anything to do with our young star; however some of the descriptions of the attacker are chilling.

"He was a rather short bloke, short and skinny. I didn't think he'd cause any trouble at all when he visited the house. More like a young man still in school that had somehow gotten himself lost, you know?" stated one of the victims.

Another of the victims, a young girl just out of school, had this to say:

"His eyes were what caught my attention, really. His dark hair sort of covered a lot of his face, but his eyes really stood out. I still see that bright shade of green when I close my eyes to go to bed. It gives me the creeps, it does."

We, as a community, might want to ask ourselves what our famous young man has been up to in the time that he's been out of Azkaban. It is well known that time in Azkaban has an incredibly strong effect on the minds of those who have had to endure it. Could our boy wonder be roaming our streets without full control of his actions? Or, perhaps, is something more sinister afoot with our previous young hero?

Damn, she was convincing. It would be no wonder if people truly began to scream for my blood after reading this article. I just couldn't catch a break, could I?

"It's not all bad, Harry. You know that Minister Scrimgeour and Headmaster Dumbledore know that it wasn't you that attacked anybody, not with you holed up here. With people that powerful backing you, there shouldn't be a problem," Hermione pointed out. While it wasn't much, it did make me feel better. The last time that the press had it out for me, I had only Dumbledore to try to protect me. This time would be different.

"Thanks Hermione." I smiled at her, which seemed to cheer her up a bit. The rest of their visit was much more relaxed as I tried to put the whole thing to the back of my mind.

No use in trying to worry about it now.

…

I watched out the window as another owl approached, braving the driving rain of the season.

"This one might get through," I mumbled to myself. The last few hadn't.

As the bird approached, it seemed to slow down like it was trying to fly through something thicker than air. Finally, as the barn owl crossed the edge of the property, the letter it was carrying emitted a bright white light and a popping sound, closely followed by a sizzle that I could hear even from inside the house. The bird was shot backwards with its feathers singed and some even molting. The poor startled owl sat where it was thrown for a minute before hopping to its feet. With what looked like an angry stare at the letter it had carried, it flew away with a slight wobble.

Well, wrong again. The letter could have contained anything from a tracking charm to bubotuber pus. Perhaps even a nasty curse. It didn't matter. They weren't getting through the new wards.

I looked over at the pile of angry letters that had made it through the wards and winced. People weren't happy with me, which was normal, but now they were angry enough to take the time to send letters about it. Again.

I really wouldn't want to be in the Minister's shoes right now, as he probably actually had to go through all of his letters.

…

Minister to Take Action?

Ms. Heather Wiltspire

We heard earlier this week about the possibly monstrous actions of this nation's previously beloved young boy, but nothing yet has been done by officials to put an end to the spree of attacks.

When this reporter entered the ministry in order to get the views of our officials on this lack of proactive effort, we were turned away. Even efforts to interview the Minister were greeted with "No comment".

We, the wizarding community, have a right to know what actions are being taken in order to prevent further atrocities from being done to our fellow wizards. Certainly we should be able to trust that our ministry will not refuse to take action for a community that is held under siege of fear.

…

It was a rough week. Even the presence of my own wand by my side was unable to lessen my tension after the first few days of angry articles. Knowing that the ministry was already aware that I wasn't going out and wantonly attacking people helped settle me sometimes, but it seemed like nothing was being done to stop the articles or to calm the people down. Investigations into the attacks brought no answers, and witnesses assuring Aurors that they had seen me at the scene wasn't helping.

I was sitting in my room, staring at a blank piece of paper that was supposed to be a letter to Ginny. Although I had plenty of ideas about what I might like to say to her, none of them quite made the transition from thought to word. Ginny was currently with Charlie in Romania. Apparently, she had decided to go into handling dangerous animals, and had wanted to see how the Dragon preserve was run. It wasn't something that I would have expected from her, but I had been gone for quite some time.

A sound of the door in the entrance hall interrupted my meandering thoughts.

"Harry, Professor Dumbledore is here to see you!" Mrs. Weasley called from down the stairs.

A quick jog down the stairs soon brought me to Dumbledore, who gave me a small reassuring smile.

"Harry, my boy," he began. "We're going to have you move to the Weasley household for the day. A few Aurors will be stopping by to ask some questions." He must have seen my expression, because he hurried to continue. "There is nothing to be afraid of; they are simply coming by to be sure. The recent news has many people in a fright. While, unofficially, the ministry knows that you have not been out and about, they have hearts to ease."

Not much time was wasted after I had talked to the Headmaster, and soon enough I was entering the doors of the warm household of my best friend's parents. It was nice to see the place again, for it certainly hadn't really changed, but it wasn't enough to settle my nerves of dealing with the Aurors. How the order had gotten the news with enough time to make the change in housing, I had no clue. But the ministry obviously didn't all know about Grimmauld Place yet.

It was just a few hours after settling into the house when the Aurors showed up at the door. I was understandably nervous, even though I hadn't actually done anything wrong.

I was eventually herded into the living room with the Aurors behind me. Their expressions didn't exactly show them to be preforming an unofficial inquiry. Still, I had hope. Besides, I could tell that they weren't angry or even concerned about the whole thing when my mind brushed theirs in a subtle check.

"Mr. Potter," one began. "I hope you know why we are here today."

"I do." What else did he want me to say?

"Well then, let us begin. Since your release from the prison, have you or have you not had excursions outside of your residence without an escort?"

Well, this was an easy one. This little interview might not be so bad after all. "No, I haven't," I answered. Hopefully the rest of the questions would be just as easy.

"In the past month, have you had access to your wand at any point?" Well, they might not like the answer, but it wasn't exactly incriminating or anything.

"Yes." I really didn't feel like giving the man any more than he had asked for. Why? Because fuck Aurors, that's why.

"Have you used your wand?" This question nearly made me sigh out loud in relief. Another one that seemed to be in my favor.

"No, not yet."

The second Auror that was in the room nodded and wrote something down on a piece of paper that I hadn't even noticed he had.

"Would you object to the wand being tested?" asked the first.

Merlin, this thing was a piece of cake.

"Not at all, Sir." I said, trying to sound my politest just to make sure they understood that I had nothing to hide.

"Have you been out to get a psychiatric evaluation since your release?"

"I'm not crazy! How many people do I need to tell this? I'm not crazy or messed up, or anything!" Obviously, I didn't quite handle that one as well as I could have. I was only able to realize that as I took a few calming breaths, and then it was too late.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Potter." They said as they stood and put away their supplies before heading for the door. They didn't even wait for an actual answer, which truthfully made me feel slightly better.

However, on returning to Grimmauld Place, I couldn't help but worry about the outcome. Why weren't any other adults in there with me during the interview? Wasn't I entitled to have people with me to make sure that they didn't, like, harass me?

…

Ron stormed in the next day and threw a folded newspaper on a nearby table. I had curiosity about what it said, but probably didn't actually want to know.

"Damn that man!" he yelled without even looking at me. "I can't believe that he would do that."

My curiosity got the better of me as I sought to find out what he was talking about.

"Listen to this," he began. "The Minister has spoken today that he will investigate further into recent claims of attacks. He promised the people that he will put an end to the fears that many of our nation's citizens are holding. In the interview that he granted, Minister Scrimgeour had this to say: I will question any and all suspects regarding these attacks against Britain's citizens. Fame nor money will protect those that are suspected of committing these atrocities." Here, Ron paused to glance at my reaction before he continued reading out loud. "I have recently received troubling news regarding one of our suspects, and will question them further in order to assure the safety of Britain's people."

It sounded an awful lot like Scrimgeour hadn't just had me questioned earlier as a show. I couldn't help but tune out the rest of the article as my mind started running in circles trying to understand what the minister could possibly be thinking…

…

Later, members of the Order came by the house with news that Aurors had been sent to the Burrow to pick me up. Some of the members that I wasn't quite as familiar with even seemed to throw glances my way, as if they weren't sure I was truly safe to be around or not.

And so yet again, Scrimgeour bowed to the wishes of scared citizens, and this time it was against me. He was supposed to be one of the ones 'in the know' about this. He was supposed to be backing me up; protecting me from the eyes of the public. The public who, not so long ago thought I was essential to winning the war against Voldemort, who just happened to apparently go under the radar somehow. Had they forgotten about him? I was just so sick of this. Not only would Scrimgeour probably try to take me in again, for 'official questioning' of course, but he might even try to take my wand away.

No.

It was not acceptable, not at all. Nobody would take away my wand again.

Not ever.

.

.

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As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Aaaaand I'm still looking for anyone interested in creating the cover art for this story, which will be credited to you. Most helpful if done through deviantArt.