A/N: Following the suggestion made by kajlima, this chapter focuses mainly on ohter characters. Never fear, though, Harry does make an appearance and we see a familiar face. You know him... You hate him... He sould've taken the money... Ladies and Gentlemen! Its ... well, if you didn't know by now, you'll just have to wait and see.

Where are they now?

Arthur Weasley sat at his desk in the misuse of muggle artifacts office, pondering previous times where his family was together and happy. He remembered when his children were carefree, playing around the crooked structure that was the Burrow. He chuckled as the hi jinks of the twins sprang to mind. Everything from stealing cookies from the kitchen to sticking his youngest son's bed in a tree while he was still sleeping in it. He never did figure out how they did it. Ronald was always a favorite target for Fred and George. Or was it George and Fred?

His big, happy family had shattered the day of Harry Potter's trial. He'd sat there as witness, not lifting a finger to stop the incarceration of the young man he considered a son in all but blood. The testimonies against Harry had come hard and fast, driving more and more nails into his proverbial coffin. The boy didn't even get a chance to defend himself in front of all of the startling accusations. Arthur's inaction still plagued him to this day.

He'd never liked the idea of Harry's trial, but Dumbledore convinced him and his wife of the poor boy's 'guilt'. At First, Arthur steadfastly refused to believe that Harry had committed the alleged crimes, but the headmaster was adamant. So Mr. Weasley sat there and allowed his surrogate son to be imprisoned, all the while trying his best to ignore the sheer unfairness of the trial.

When he and his wife told their family of the situation, he had witnessed the eyes of his two youngest light up in anticipation. The twins, however, refused to accept the accusations. Even after he explained about Dumbledore's support of the trial, they still wouldn't agree to help. Then, the day of their seventeenth birthday, they'd left. A few weeks later, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was opened. Five years later, they had not only outstripped Zonko's joke shop, but bought their rival store. While Arthur was, of course, proud of his sons' success and that they used the family name, he was still upset that the twins had yet to send a letter or answer a letter to them from the rest of the family.

'At least they had the fortitude to stand for what they truly believed in.' he thought sullenly.

His eldest, Bill and Charlie, also wouldn't have anything to do with the trial. They refused, even after meeting Harry only once, to believe that he was guilty. These days, Arthur barely talked to them either. Poor Molly was constantly crying over the loss of five over her babies, including her babies. Ron, Ginny, and Percy still kept contact, though Arthur was constantly disappointed in their behavior. Ron had barely gotten accepted to the auror academy and he could be heard mumbling about "promised money" and "Fucking Potter". His daughter, Ginny, was hardly any better. After graduating, she'd attempted to get a spot on the all-woman quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies. After being turned away from it and every other team of any worth, she had resigned to working as an assistant in Olivander's wand shop until she could acquire a master in charms. She and Ron could be heard arguing over "Dumbledore's promise" and "locked up vaults" at the wee hours in the morning as they were still residing at home until their 'careers' got off the ground.

Yes, Arthur Weasley truly felt like the oh-so-clever insulting annotation of his name.

--oo00HPR00oo--

"... Weasel! That's right, ladies and gentlemen! Shock your friends and family with your very own mammoth multi-colored weasel! Patented by Ginger-Twin industries, our specially bred ferrets will bring joy to any house hold in these dark times of war! They love children and are completely house broken! Careful though, these little buggers tend to spit when over excited. Get 'em while you can, they're going fast! Only at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!"

Fred (or was it George?) stepped down from the podium outside his and his brother's shop in Diagon Alley. Followed by a crowd of excited children, dragging their nervous parents behind them, Fred opened the doors to the shop and entered. As soon as the eager entered the shop, they swarmed the cage that held a bunch of four-foot long ferrets who were constantly shifting colors.

"Oi! George! (ah...so he was Fred.) We got some more customers!"

George Weasley popped his head from the back room. Seeing the crowd, he immediately sprung into action. The next two hours were a blur of sales as the weasel cage emptied.

As Fred plopped down at his desk in the back office after the rush, his mind wandered over the last five years.

When their parents told the family of Harry Potter's trial, he and George had steadfastly refused to even think Harry was guilty. When they were informed of their family's upcoming role, they were disgusted. As soon as they turned seventeen, they had immediately left the Burrow and set up an apartment on the top floor of a recently purchased building in Diagon Alley. It wasn't long after that, that the triple W was opened.

Five years had past since the the twins had so much as sent or answered a letter to or from their family. Every time Ron, Ginny, Arthur, Molly, or Percy was spotted, they were immediately turned away with no more than a harsh "Out!". The boys were of the firm belief that, no matter what Dumbledore said, Harry Potter would never commit the crimes that he was being accused of. In fact, the only reason they even kept the family name was so that they could, hopefully, redeem it in Harry's eyes.

Many members of the ministry were constantly wondering how Hermione Granger could afford to fund her campaign to free Harry potter while working in Flourish and Blotts, having refused every ministry position offered her upon graduation. What they didn't know was that the Weasley twins were, in fact, her financial support. The boys had tried again and again over the years to convince Hermione to just bust Harry out of Azkaban, but she was adamant on attaining his freedom legally. After five years, however, they knew that her patience was wearing thin, and had a plan for when she finally snapped.

Neither noticed a letter sitting on Fred's desk until after they'd closed the store that night. Seeing it as they were packing up the office for the night,George drew his brother's attention to it. Fred picked it up and, sharing a look with his brother, opened up where in they read...

Thanks. Be seeing you soon, boys.

There was no name. However, both men knew who the letter was from as they say a jagged lightning bolt drawn under the message. Looking at each other with a mirrored shit-eating grin, they simultaneously stated...

"It's about bloody time!"

--oo00HPR00oo--

Albus Percival Wolfric Bryan Dumbledore, order of Merlin first class, supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, and headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry for years was a happy man. For, you see, he had just received a message from Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge stating that Harry Potter had escaped Azkaban.

Now, why would he be happy that the young man that he sentenced to hell on earth had broken out of the second most secure facility in Britain, you ask? Simple, really. It meant that his plan was finally coming to fruition.

From the day that James and Lily Potter were killed and Harry was confirmed as the prophesied savior of the wizarding world, he knew that the child would not be strong enough to kill Tom Riddle once and for all. This was the primary reason that he left Harry on the Dursleys' front step. Knowing how they felt about magic, Dumbledore theorized that they would abuse the boy.

Now, before we proceed, one fact should be addressed. Make no mistake about it, Albus Dumbledore was not an evil man. However, he is a manipulating, goat-fucking (no one ever could prove those accusations), ass-hole. You see, he planned on Harry becoming a cold and calculating young man that would do anything to survive. While he did believe that love was a powerful weapon, he was still a logical man. Love alone could not defeat the most feared dark lord in British wizarding history.

When young Harry Potter showed up to his first year at Hogwarts, however, Albus was painfully shocked to see a timid little boy. Never one to give up after a single failure, he proceeded to try and mold the boy from afar. He still had to be seen as the kind and wise grandfather, after all, so he couldn't openly harden the child.

He allowed Harry to uncover the secrets of the sorcerer's stone. He led the boy to the final goal, all the while giving hints and clues to help Potter reach the confrontation against Quirrel. Faced with the possessed man, Albus knew that Harry would be forced to kill his professor in one way or another to survive.

Second year was a blessing in disguise for his plans. The Chamber of Secrets debacle placed a twelve year old Harry Potter in yet another life or death situation and give him his first grand scale taste of the wizarding world's prejudice against anything remotely different. Of course, not even faced with his parents' real betrayer in third year did the boy show any signs of the necessary hardened heart.

When Harry appeared before the maze at the end of the final task crying over Cedric Diggory's body, Albus was left with only one course of action. His opportunity came when Harry was force to defend himself and his cousin from the dementors set upon him by the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Delores Umbridge. At first, it was difficult to convince Molly and Arthur Weasley that it was, in fact, Harry himself that had killed Cedric. With sad words and subtle compulsion charms, he had their support. It came as a disappointment when four of their sons had refused to help, but with promises of Potter's money Ronald and Ginevra were more than willing to be rid of the scar-headed boy. Percival Weasley was already in the minister's pocket so he was not a problem. Since the others could be impeded easily, Dumbledore was confident that the rest of society would have no doubt of Potter's guilt with his surrogate family's testimonies against him. Rounded out with a distinct lack of a court transcript and the support of the minister of magic, Dumbledore was confident there would be no question.

He underestimated Hermione Granger. The meddlesome girl had been unrelenting in her pursuit of Harry's freedom. She'd gone through every law book that she could get her hands on and approached the head of every department in the ministry. Albus just hoped that Cornelius' unspeakables could remove that nuisance for the greater good.

With Harry in Azkaban, the headmaster was taking a huge gamble. He knew that one of two things would occur. Either Harry would become the cold survivor needed and escape, or he would be broken. After four years, Albus feared that his plan had failed. However, with the recent news, hope was restored.

Yes... its good when a plan comes together.

--oo00HPR00oo--

"What are you thinking about, love?"

Neville Longbottom smiled sadly and looked down into his wife's eyes. He'd met Luna Longbottom nee Lovegood in his fifth year at Hogwarts. Right away he knew that this was a special, if a bit odd, girl. They'd actually met in a 'study' group set up by Hermione Granger. It was, in reality, a group dedicated to freeing Harry Potter, for all the good it did.

During the 'study' sessions, Neville and Luna became closer. Her carefree attitude and often painfully forward observations coincided quite nicely with his shy and introverted demeanor. It was actually Luna that first asked Neville out, and he was thankful to this day. With Luna by his side, the quiet, slightly chubby, doormat of Hogwarts developed a spine. Not only did he develop said spine, but he also grew balls of titanium. After kicking Draco Malfoy's pale ass on several occasions, people learned not to fuck with him and his.

Currently, Neville was working as a part of a special unit within the department of mysteries. They were not unspeakables. In fact, they didn't even exist. The only people outside of the unit that knew of their existence was a high ranking member of the department that believed Harry Potter's innocence. Their highly classified purpose had been changed from proving Harry innocence to (shhh...) locating and eliminating every one of the dark lord's horcruxes.

Neville shivered at the thought of those horrid artifacts. They learned of their existence while questioning Dumbledore on Potter's trial. With a subtle dose of veritaserum, the headmaster opened up on his studies into Voldemort's past and continued life. After the unit vanished, Dumbledore was left with the knowledge that he could do nothing to a team that, technically, didn't exist. Using Dumbledore's initial data, and with extensive help of the Gringotts goblins, at a fee of course, the team had destroyed all but one of the suspected pieces of soul. They knew that it resided within Voldemort's snake (giggidy), Nagini, but with the lack of overt action with the exception of several raids, his location (and by extension hers) were unknown.

"Why ask when you already know?" he queried his wife playfully.

"Well... it is polite to ask every once in a while. Otherwise, I wouldn't need you for conversation." came the, as always, refreshingly blunt reply. Neville laughed heartily at his wife's choice of words. His Luna was what he liked to call a lyrical ninja. She could hit quickly and accurately out of nowhere, and you could never see it coming until it was too late.

The combination of Luna's deceptively deductive mind, coupled with a slight seer ability rendered a person who could figure out just about any secret. It hadn't taken her long to realize that Neville's job did not involve caring for dangerous creatures as he'd started out telling her. It'd taken even less time to break his resistance. Acting in her capacity as editor-in-chief of 'The Quibbler", Luna had actually discovered identities and locations of two of the horcruxes. "Investigative journalism" was all she would say when asked how.

Looking at her husband of two years, Luna again marveled at the brick shit house of a man (Thanks to seel'vor for the metaphor) that he'd become. It surprised many people from their Hogwarts years to see him now. To this day, she was grateful that she'd taken the initiative and asked him out in her fourth year. After dating for three years, he'd proposed on her seventeenth birthday and they'd been married three months later. Fred (or George) Weasley stood as his best man/men while Hermione was her maid of honor.

"Good day Mister Potter. I hope you are well." Neville stared at his wife in shock as she smiled serenely at a nearby tree in the field they were walking through.

"Who's the lady, Nev?" rumbled a deep and familiar voice. "I like her."

A man stepped from around the tree with a sly smile. Ragged robes adorned his broad shoulders, covering an olive green muscle shirt and black pants. The cloak looked like it'd been through a blender. All that was left of the sleeves were sparse tatters hanging over well muscled arms. The front looked though it'd been cut open with dull knife. Jagged edges of cloth dangled from either side, accentuating the overall dangerous appearance.

Neville barely noticed the clothes, however, for it was the eyes that held his attention. Deep green depths radiated from the orbs, shining with a silvery sheen. The looked like a cat's eyes when light is shined on them. Neville knew those eyes, and was shocked to find them full of life, if a bit haunted, after Azkaban. Breaking the lock, his gaze drifted up to the man's forehead. Shaggy black hair slightly obscured a jagged lightning bolt-shaped scar over his right eye.

"H-harry?" he stammered, gazing up and down the man's tightly muscled body. While it couldn't be said that Harry was bulky, his form shifted with the lean strength of a jungle cat, observing potential prey.

"Been a long time, Nev."

--oo00HPR00oo--

Rain poured from the sky over the bustling city. The clouds seemed to be intentionally pelting the cloaked and hooded man standing on one of the roofs, waiting for something. A piton shot from a nearby building, digging into the cement into the cement between the man's feet. The cord attached to the piton dipped as another man descended down the line on some kind of handled wheel.

"Muggles." spat the cloaked man as his associate joined him. The new arrival looked like a reject from an American action movie, with several weapons strapped to various points on his lean body. The man's curly hair shook as he landed, cascading water down over his thick sideburns and goatee.

"I'm here, so what's the job?" questioned the armed man brashly in a raspy American accent. His cloak companion handed over a picture and a wad of bills.

"Your target's name is Riddick, a.k.a. Harry Potter. You are to eliminate him. That's half of your payment. You'll get the other half when Potter's dead. I trust you can kill him... can't you Mr. Toombs?"

A scoff was the only reply as the mercenary turned and leaped from the roof. As a pair of wings sprang from a pack on Toombs' back, a flash of lightning illuminated the cloaked man a single strand of red hair that fell from the dark hood.

A/N: and there you have it! I just want to send a shout out to my bud, FatticusXL and my mother/beta, Library Witch. Both have wicked stories you gotta see. And, seeing as its Librarywitch's birthday tommorrow(the 28th), why don't ya'll send her a review and wish her a happy b-day. Thanks people and stay cool.