Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter. I am not making money from this story, it is purely for entertainment.

Chapter 2

"Tell me again, Lock." Harry spoke in a high, cold, merciless voice that seemed to echo through the cavernous room. "Tell me why you have failed?"

The cowering man before him trembled and pressed his forehead into the ground in subservience.

"Speak, you simpering fool!"

"M-my Lord." The man croaked, raising his head slightly so he could stare into Voldemort's red, pitiless eyes. "The Order, my Lord. It is too well protected. Only you and the boy can retrieve it. They have guards surrounding it night and day. We have tried but-"

"But." Harry interrupted in a quiet, thoughtful tone. "You have failed. I find myself unsurprised, Lock."

The man kneeling in the center of the circle flinched visably and bowed his head once more. "If we had more time, my Lord."

Harry's lipless mouth curved into something close to a smile and his red eyes fastened on the cowering form with such intensity that some of the watchers turned away in fear.

"More time?" Harry laughed suddenly, cold and piercing and without humour. "Perhaps you think I should walk into the Ministry myself and alert the Minister of my return when he is so sweetly denying it? I expect no less from you."

Voldemort raised his head and stared at the other wizards in the room ruthlessly. "Harry Potter is no longer under Albus Dumbledore's protection and the longer you fail in your tasks, the greater chance he has of freeing him. We do not have more time."

"I will break into Azkaban and kill Harry Potter." Harry continued, twisting his wand in his long spidery fingers. "If you imbeciles do not make it more difficult for me at every turn!"

A visible tremor radiated through every occupant of the room.

"Out! Get out!" Harry screamed, feeling anger spike in his chest. "All of you!"

When he woke, Harry distantly realized he had no idea where he was but he couldn't seem to gather enough emotion to care. He lay flat on his back, breathing hard as if he had been running, his hands pressed against his scar as it throbbed beneath his fingertips.

He blinked repeatedly, trying to rid his eyes of the moisture and stared around the room, his heart slowly regaining its normal rhythm. He saw nothing but the eternal night that permeated throughout the prison, a decaying darkness that seemed to pulse with life through the very walls of its structure, despair dripping from every crevice.

Memories flooded him. Azkaban.

This had been his existence for more weeks than he could remember. His eyes moved to the far wall where he started to count the days of his imprisonment, each mark of the rock signifying a day. Or at least the days he had been conscious. Harry closed his eyes. The darkness appeared strange compared to the flickering green light of his dream. He was struggling to remember the details.

The sound of metal grating and the sudden calming presence that filled his senses, clearing his rushing thoughts for the first time in weeks, forced his eyes open. The door to his cell and the surrounding bars were illuminated in a brilliant white light as it swung open, reveling a short, stout man with balding head; his bear Patronus stalking after him. He looked around the cell once, raising his wand to cast a silent spell creating a seemingly invisible wind that lifted Harry's hair and sent a chill across his skin. The guard appeared to be satisfied because, without a glance in Harry's direction he lowered his wand, dropped the tray of food in his hand and turned to leave.

"W-wait." Harry croaked, his voice breaking from disuse. "What date is it?"

The guard paused at the door, his back tense. "Eat your food."

Harry stood on shaky legs and almost toppled over had it not been for the wall to his left. Reaching out, he placed a restraining arm on the guard's wrist when he moved to leave again. "Please."

Something in his voice must have resonated with the guard because he sighed heavily and turned to face him.

"Shit," he cursed softly. "You're just a kid."

Harry waited patiently while the man ran a tired hand over his face. Eventually, he dropped his hand and looked Harry in the eye.

"It's October 14th. Just keep your head down." He warned gently, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. "Don't give the dementors reason to torment you. Now eat you're food while you can."

With that, he turned and walked from the room. The sound of the bars locking was deafening in the silence.

Harry looked to the marked wall. He had counted twenty-nine days, not forty-two. Somewhere between periods of consciousness, he lost count. To him, it seemed like an eternity had passed. An eternity of green light, his mother's pleading screams and faded dreams of Voldemort. With a sigh, he picked up the rock and marked off the remaining days.

"I promise, I will do everything in my power to see you released."

Turning from the grime-covered wall, Harry considered the tray of food for a moment but found the mere sight of it turned his stomach. He knew he should try to eat something. He had become thin even for his lanky frame, his bones protruding from beneath his sunken skin but every mouthful tasted of ash. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. The despair was too much to cope with and he had to bite his tongue against the injustice of it all. He was innocent! He didn't deserve to be here.

"Itty bitty baby" a piercing voice crowed from beyond his cell. "Locked away and forgotten. No mummy or daddy to save him….all forgotten."

Harry peered into the penetrating darkness and there, bathed in the eerie silver flow from the fading Patronus, stood Bellatrix Lestrange. She appeared so different from his memories of the Pensieve the year before but he was sure it was her. His heart came to an abrupt stop and then redoubled in fear. She stood pressed against the bars of her cell, cradling her right arm, her fingers stroking the black skull tattoo that covered her forearm lovingly.

"But don't you worry, baby Potter." She cooed again mockingly. "He'll make it all better. Soon he'll come for us."

The pain in his scar seared again as he pushed himself further into his cell; Bellatrix's form disappearing in the darkness. Harry closed his eyes as the haunting dream came to the forefront of his mind once more, a chilling scream echoing through the hallway, as if voicing his silent terror.

"Voldemort."

Before long, the other inmates answered with screams of their own as the over-whelming effects of the dementors filled the cells.

"Not Harry!" His mother's voice pleaded in his head. Harry stumbled backwards as the room began to spin beneath his feet. He didn't feel himself hit the cold concrete as he succumbed to the darkness, filled with a feeling of joy that was not his own.

Harry woke to the feeling of a warm hand brushing against his forehead. He frowned at the unfamiliar touch and opened his eyes, seeing only the blurry outline of a woman. The pain in his scar had not lessened and he struggled against groaning aloud.

"Oh my poor boy," A familiar voice reached his ears. "What on earth have they done to you?"

Breath trickled out of his lungs in a hidden sigh. Harry blinked and locked eyes with the woman who was still stroking his forehead lovingly. The sight of green eyes and long red hair causing his heart to race.

"Mum?"

Harry jumped to his feet. He swallowed, coughed and swallowed again before he was finally able to voice his disbelief. "B-but you're dead."

"Yes, I died that night with your father." There was no self-pity in his mother's voice, no anger. It was as if she had accepted her fate.

"How are you here?"

"Oh sweetheart." She said lovingly and Harry felt a lump rise in his throat. "I never really left you."

Harry tried to listen to the logically part of his brain that was telling him that his mother was dead but this wasn't the first time she had come to him. Perhaps, when he needed her now more than ever, she had appeared...as real as the walls surrounding him. Her emerald eyes were warm and loving. She looked at him like a mother and soon, Harry turned off the logical voice in his head.

Harry felt his eyes burning and more than anything he wanted to fall into her arms and beg her to save him, to free him from this torture. He hadn't meant to move but his feet acted of his own accord and before he knew it, small warm arms were wrapped around his back. His mother was holding him for the first time in his life.

"It'll be ok, Harry." She said in his ear as she stroked his back gently. "We'll find a way to get you out of here. I promise."

Harry could only nod as the burning moved to his throat making speech impossible. He closed his eyes against the moisture that was building not wanting to spoil the moment he had dreamed of his entire life.

"I don't have much time here." Lily continued after a moment of silence. "We must be quick."

That snapped Harry to attention and he pulled away from her warm embrace. "T-time. Voldemort-he's coming. I had a dream, only it wasn't a dream….it was real. I have to get out of here now!"

Lily held her hand up against Harry's frantic rambling and he fell quiet, his eyes darting around his cell as if Voldemort was about to appear from within the very walls.

"We will, Harry." She replied calmly. "But first I need to know what Dumbledore has told you. I need to know what the prophecy says or I can't help you. Harry...it's imperative-"

"What are you talking about?"

A flash of impatience crossed Lily's face before a serene look appeared in her eyes and she smiled. "The prophecy, Sweetheart. You can trust me. Tell me what the prophecy says."

"What prophecy?" Harry asked pleadingly as Lily turned away, her back facing him. "Mum, Dumbledore never told me anything about a prophecy. We have to leave…Voldemort could come at any time!"

Swiftly Lily turned towards Harry, her eyes wary and Harry felt as though he were a small child caught in wrong-doing.

"He never told you?" She asked softly, walking towards him once more. A strange glint appeared in her eyes. "He never told you about the prophecy?"

"No!" Harry said, his panic to leave making him irritable. "Mum, we have to leave now!"

Lily smiled again. "Haven't you ever wondered why Voldemort came after us the night me and your father died?"

Harry felt his heart stop. Here was the answer he had wanted since he had found out about that fateful Halloween night but there was no excitement or curiousity present. All there was was fear. He was more concerned with leaving before Voldemort came for him. Didn't his mother understand that this could wait?

"I-I thought it was because you fought against him." Harry said shakily. "You were in the Order-"

Harry stopped abruptly when Lily laughed. It was chilling.

"No, no. It was because of the prophecy that was made before your birth. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.' I would have thought Dumbledore would have told you the rest."

Harry couldn't form a clear thought through the jumbled mess. Voldemort had targeted them, killed his parents because of a prophecy that was made about him…Harry.

Guilty! Murderer!

The same accusations he heard since he was first imprisoned came rushing back to him. He covered his ears with his hands, shaking his head madly.

"No, no, no." Harry mumbled nonsensically. "I'm innocent. I don't belong here. I didn't know…"

Warm hands covered his and he stared into the emerald-green eyes, so similar to his own. "Of course you didn't Harry. You don't belong here. Don't you see? There is nothing but pain and suffering in your future, Sweetheart. The world expects you to kill Voldemort. You don't have that kind of power."

Harry lowered both their hands and stepped back from her. He simply wrapped his arms around himself and shook his head. He was afraid if he opened his mouth, he would throw up. His mother was right. There was no hope. Even if he did escape from this cursed placed he would still be a prisoner. He closed his eyes against the despair that threatened to drive him to his knees.

"I never wanted this life for you." His mother continued sadly. "You've fought enough. You can rest now. Your father and I have missed you so much."

Harry's eyes snapped open in disbelief. "W-what? Kill myself? No….no, I can't do that! Sirius, my friends-"

"Have abandoned you!" She interrupted harshly. "No one is coming for you. Dumbledore has forgotten all about you, Harry. Can't you see that?"

She finished with a wave towards the marks on the wall, counting the days of his imprisonment.

"Come home." A hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled until his palm faced upwards, a particularly jagged piece of rock now held within his grasp. "There will be no more pain."

Harry lifted his eyes and stared at his mother in shock. This couldn't be the woman he stared at in his photo album for countless hours, the woman everyone had spoken so pleasantly about, the woman who had gave her life so that he could live only a few moments more. Harry narrowed his eyes and began walking backwards from her.

"You're not my mother." Harry said brokenly. "You're not her. Stay away from me!"

"What are you talking about, Harry? Of cours-"

"Quiet in there, boy." A voice snarled behind him. Harry spun on the spot and came face to face with another guard, one who reminded Harry of Mad-eye Moody, his face scarred beyond recognition.

"Don't you see her?" Harry asked frantically. The guard's eyes shifted beyond Harry as he glanced around the cell, his expression remaining the same. Harry turned as well and seen his mother standing in the middle of the cell.

"There's no one there. Now keep it down." The guard said, walking away mumbling under his breath about lunatics.

Harry wanted to call out and beg the man not to leave him alone but he knew it would have fallen on deaf ears. Taking a shuttering breath, Harry pressed his back against the bars of his cell and tired to gather his courage. "Who are you?"

Harry watched in disbelief as the image of his mother began to morph and shift before his eyes. Tall, pale and clothed in dark, sweeping robes; Lord Voldemort stood before him. Harry gasped loudly and he was sure he heard Bellatrix's manic laugh from behind him.

"Hello Harry." Voldemort said mockingly. "It has been too long."

"You're not here-"

"Not yet." He interrupted coldly, tapping his temple with a long, twisted finger. "I discovered the connection between our minds, Harry. And if I can control your mind, I can make you see anything I wish. Until, I can see you in person at least."

Voldemort smirked at him and looked around the small, bleak cell. "My, my Harry. Such a predicament you're in….but now you know the truth: the prophecy that began our tale. I'm surprised to find that Dumbledore has not told you, simpering muggle-loving fool, he is. I have been hesitant to kill you until I learn the truth, Harry but mark my words. I will."

Harry glared at him, trying to steady the pounding of his heart. Voldemort laughed.

"Harry, Harry…my most loyal servants are here and you, so weak and vulnerable. Foresaken. In time, I will attack Azkaban and kill you. If I were you, I would save myself the trouble and the torture and end it myself."

Harry shook his head, his fingers loosening and dropping the rock to the ground, a feeling of new found determination filling him; the sudden thought of his friends, his godfather, Lupin and Dumbledore acting as some inner Patronus. Voldemort sneered and moved into the darkness until Harry is once again left alone, trembling and pale. Dropping to the ground, Harry pulled his knees tightly against his chest and lowered his head.

"I promise, I will do everything in my power to see you released."

"He'll come. He'll come and help me." Harry muttered under his breath. His breath caught in his throat when he felt a strong, warm hand on his head; the same hand that patted his head as an eleven year old, that grasped his arm at fourteen to offer support was now mocking him.

"No, I won't." Dumbledore said his familiar blue eyes filled with cold hatred.