Chapter One: The Prisoner
AN: It's hard to changes one's natural inclinations. Once you grow up believing something is true, it becomes true and nothing can really change that. At least, not in one's heart. Change is never easy.
Disclaimer: This chapter contains parts from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows. With that said, I don't own Harry Potter. That would be JK Rowling.
Shadows danced around the room as the figures within moved about the area. Some trying to settle down, others conversing with their neighbors. Their faces were shrouded in shadows despite the flames of bracketed torches lining the walls flickering in the background. The lingering darkness was unsurprising as there were no windows within the underground chamber. The cold stone and damp air made the space feel like a dungeon reminiscent of those in Hogwarts. However, unlike Hogwarts, there were no pictures, no decorations, and certainly no potions ingredients lining these walls. Only the dancing shadows had purchase here, giving the place a bleak and forbidding air. This chamber was clearly not for celebrating, nor was it anywhere anyone would ever willingly want to be.
Nonetheless, the figures continued to move with no indication of leaving, at least not anytime soon. Wizards and witches continued to fill the rising rows within the cold dungeon. To the outside observer, it appeared to be an auditorium. Giving its seated guest a clear view of the center of the room. However, there was no known form of entertainment held in the center. Instead, a lone, empty chair with chains encircled around the arms held center stage.
Footsteps echoed off the dungeon walls causing the witches and wizards in attendance to quiet down. The rustling of robes ceased, and the atmosphere turned serious. Clearly it was time for the show to begin.
Suddenly, the door in the corner of the dungeon opened with a loud squeak and three people entered the chamber, a young man with his hands bound in front of him flanked by two Auror officers. The young man, more boy than man really, held his head high. High enough that he could observe the faces of the crowd as the Auror officers placed the boy in the chained chair, removed the binding spell, and stepped back to the outskirts of the room.
There had to have been more than two hundred witches and wizards surrounding him wearing plum-colored robes with an elaborately worked silver 'W' on the left-hand side of their breast pocket, the Wizengamot. To the side in the back row, there was a partially covered row of benches that housed non-Wizengamot members. In the very middle of the front row, sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. To the right of him, sat Dumbledore, and to the left was a stern witch with a broad, square-jaw and very short grey hair.
As the young man observed the Wizengamot, so too did the Wizengamot observe him, craning necks and shoving neighbors to get a better look at this young prisoner. There was only one thing that stood out about this prisoner that the Wizengamot could observe from their distant perch was the boy's piercing emerald-green eyes somewhat hidden behind round-rim glasses.
No sooner were the guards out of the way, than the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold and snaked their way up the boy's arms, binding him there. Unaccustomed with feeling separated to his magic, the boy's arms strained against the wood of the cold hard chair as he fought against its hold.
"Harry Potter," said the stern woman to the left of Fudge. "You have been brought before the Ministry of Magic for sentencing."
Harry suppressed his first response to being chained like a dog, or some common Death Eater, to focus on the gathering around him. He didn't know who the stern woman was, but Dumbledore. He wasn't at all surprised to see the old man here, looking down at him with disappointment in his eyes. No, what was more surprising was that he didn't see Dolores Umbridge.
After her unscheduled visit before Professor Snape visited him in the Ministry holding cells a few days ago, he'd half expected her to be here to gloat over his predicament. At the time, he'd been upset with himself for telling anything to Skeeter right after the events in the Graveyard. He should have said nothing about the return of Voldemort. Should have kept that between himself and his Head of House. And now that he was here, facing judgment he realized how much he would have preferred Umbridge to Dumbledore. This would not go well for him.
There was a slight pause as the crowd murmured before Fudge spoke up, "Are you ready Mr. Weasley?"
"Yes, sir." Harry looked up to see one of the Weasleys sitting at the very end of the front bench. For something this big, you would think they could get a high level scribe, he thought as the name of this Weasley finally came to him, Percy. Not that it really mattered in the end. But the insult didn't escape him.
"Sentencing hearing of the twenty-ninth of July for the actions of the twenty-six of July," said Fudge in a ringing voice.
The stern woman interrupted Minister Fudge to read partially from a piece of parchment. "It is to be noted that guilt has already been established. Therefore, the charges against the accused that occurred on the twenty-sixth of July at thirty minutes past nine will not be further discussed; however, because of the age of Mr. Potter, this court has been convened to determine to what extend Mr. Potter can and should be punished."
Harry blinked up in surprise at the stern woman's words. With his focus on the Wizengamot, he'd completely missed what the woman had said earlier. However, she'd made it painfully clear once more. There was to be no trial. This was news to him. He'd been under the impression that this was to be his trial. Now, he would get no opportunity to defend himself. They would not ask him direct questions about his actions that day. No one would hear his side of the story.
Closing his eyes briefly to gather himself, he looked back up to the high bench. He would have thought that Fudge would be more wary about sentencing anyone without a trial after the fiasco with Sirius. And yet, here he was. And where was Sirius? If anyone could turn this sentencing trial around on the Ministry, it would be him.
There was a breakout of conversation, before Dumbledore spoke up to bring them back to order. "Minister Fudge, please continue."
"Yes, of course," clearing his throat Fudge continued. "For sentencing for crimes committed, multiple use of the Unforgivable Curses and extensive use of the dark arts by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey." Fudge paused briefly to take a sip of water.
"The record should note that crimes committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy will not be taken into account." The stern woman interrupted the pause.
Harry's face was neutral, but inside he was in turmoil. Of course they wouldn't even touch the Restriction for Underage Sorcery and Statute of Secrecy. He could have easily gotten out of those charges. Self-defense under extreme circumstances. Even now, he didn't see how they could give him anything too extreme because of the self-defense circumstances.
Clearing his throat again Fudge continued. "Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief Warlock. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley. Witness against the defense will be announced as they appear. There is no Witness for the defense at this time." Harry knew the last statement was just politics for saying we're starting before a witness can be provided.
"We will now hear from our first witness, Ronald Bilius Weasley." Harry watched as the lengthy red head walked over from the arranged seating area.
He looked on as Weasley got comfortable. 'Really, they were going to let Weasley talk about how he was the next dark lord in training?' He thought in displeasure.
"Mr. Weasley, please tell us about Mr. Potter," said the stern woman now identified as Amelia Bones.
"Well, to begin I guess I should say I've known Potter for four years now, and I can honestly say I'm not surprised about the events that lead to me, ah, us being here." Weasley took a dramatic pause before continuing over the slight murmurs of the Wizengamot. "From day one, I knew he was a bad egg. When he was sorted into Slytherin, I just knew I had to keep an eye on him. At first, I thought I could talk him into getting a re-sorting." With the gasp from the crowd Weasley continued. "Yeah, I know. That doesn't happen very often, but I asked the headmaster about it, and he said it wasn't impossible."
"Is that true Headmaster Dumbledore?" Madam Bones questioned Dumbledore.
"Yes, that is correct. While it happens rarely, a student, if he or she believes they have been sorted incorrectly, may request a re-sorting. It has only been successful once out of about ten times in the history of Hogwarts."
"Alright, thank you Albus. Please continue Mr. Weasley." Fudge signaled for Weasley to continue.
"So, as I was saying. I tried to get him to re-sort. I didn't really care which house, but I will say I was hoping for Gryffindor. If you don't mind me adding, I think it's the best house there is." Weasley said with a sly smile on his face.
"We'll keep your house opinions in mind," came Fudge's response followed by a laugh in the courtroom, one that Harry didn't find funny in the slightest. Maybe it was the chains tying him down to the chair keeping him from finding the humor in the statement?
"After our first flying lesson, it became clear to me that Potter was sorted into Slytherin for a reason. Potter went downhill from there. Always picking on anyone who wasn't a Slytherin. I'm pretty sure he was starting to get into the dark arts from some of the older Slytherin around that time too."
"Could you specify the time?" Madam Bones questioned.
"Ah, yeah. After Halloween our first year, Harry got really buddy-buddy with the DADA professor who turned out to be working for You-Know-Who. Then there was the Chamber of Secrets opening up again. Potter was no friend to muggleborns, my friend Hermione Granger was picked on a lot by Potter and his gang. The fact that his mum was a muggleborn didn't even seem to matter to him." Weasley said as he shook his head in disappointment.
Harry didn't care for Weasley's attempt to implement him negatively in the Chamber of Secrets incident. Not to mention anyone who wasn't a Gryffindor could have told the Wizengamot differently about his relationship to muggleborns. Was it his fault he happened to dislike Granger? That had nothing to do with how he, and by extension his friends, treated muggleborns in general.
"Are you implying that Mr. Potter had something to do with the opening of the Chamber of Secrets outside of what was officially reported?" Fudge asked the question before Madam Bones could speak. Harry could see why Fudge was interested. The Chamber incident had not been good for his image.
"I mean, don't you? How did he even know where it is? Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful that my sister wasn't killed that day. But I can't help thinking that, if Professor Dumbledore didn't know where it was, how could a second year find the chamber?" There was a collective murmur before Weasley continued. "It was the effect the dementors had on Potter that really confirmed that there was no saving him from his path."
"What do you mean, effect?" Fudge asked with confusion.
"Well, Potter was really sensitive to the dementors. I heard that only individuals really close to the dark with a lot of dark stuff in their minds were super affected by dementors. So yeah," Weasley replied straightforwardly.
Harry wasn't sure if anyone could really believe the shite coming out of Weasley. That last statement was complete bollocks.
"I'd like to clarify the subject of dementors for the chamber." Bones interjected. "While it is true that dementors have been rather affective against Death Eater, this is because those who have experienced terrible things are the most affected. I would like to point out that in Mr. Potter's case, You-Know-Who's attack on him as an infant would fulfill this requirement."
Harry was glad someone in this chamber seemed to have some brains. It didn't hurt his case that she reminded the court about his importance. With Voldemort's return, the wizarding world needed him. After the mass breakout early this summer, even Dumbledore would have to believe his story. Besides, he was pretty sure that Dumbledore wouldn't send him to Azkaban just to make a point.
Weasley shrugged before continuing. "I think this last year alone is enough to realize how dark Potter has become. No regular fourth year could have done what he did in that tournament. I'm just looking at the parallels between You-Know-Who and Potter. They both have a loyal group of followers. They were both in Slytherin. They were both powerful. I've gotten into a few fights with Potter and the spells he uses." Weasley shook his head as he continued, "Potter doesn't even need to say some of the spells out loud. Last time I checked that was a very hard piece of magic for sixth years, let alone third or fourth year students!"
Harry had been careful to never use a dark spell at Hogwarts. At least not where he could get caught, and the last time he checked, being advanced in ones spell work wasn't a crime. More importantly, he didn't like the way Weasley was leading the court. He was sure if Weasley could say anything worse he would, not that he had anything worse to say. Even so, he really hoped he'd stop talking soon.
"Potter is the prince of Slytherin. He controls Slytherin house, and is blatantly worse than Malfoy. I don't say that lightly, since I'm sure Malfoy is a Death Eater in training." Weasley continued in a serious tone.
"Enough, I'll not have my name slandered in court. Mr. Weasley is clearly biased against Slytherin. I'd like to have the record remove all mention of my family." Lucius Malfoy said from the crowd.
Harry knew he was in trouble when the only one to stand up and somewhat defend him was Malfoy. Where was his godfather?
"Mr. Percy Weasley, will you please remove all mentions of the Malfoys from the record?" Fudge turned to the older Weasley.
"Yes sir," came Percy Weasley's eager reply.
"I think that will be all from you Mr. Ronald Weasley. Thank you for your time." Fudge dismissed the witness.
Once Weasley was back in his seat, Madam Bones spoke. "We will now hear from, Sirius Orion Black."
"Sirius?" Harry whispered the name seeing his godfather walk up to the seat Weasley had just vacated. Didn't Fudge say there were no witnesses for his defense? From the direction Sirius had come, he must have been here for a while. What was he doing?
"Mr. Black I would first like to apologize again for the previous Ministry's incompetence. I know you are still recovering, and we're very glad you could make it today." Fudge groveled.
Before Harry's godfather could reply to Fudge, the doors to the chamber opened to reveal Severus Snape. "I'm sorry I'm late. No one informed me of the date of the trial."
"Mr. Potter's magical guardian was informed. There is no reason for you to be here Severus." Dumbledore replied.
"As Mr. Potter's legal counsel, it is my duty to be here in his defense." Professor Snape turned to the Minister as he continued. "Witness for the defense, Severus Tobius Snape." He spoke as he stood firmly next to Harry. There was a light commotion, before Severus continued to speak. "As my first action, I would like to have Ronald Weasley's testimony thrown out."
"On what grounds?" Madam Bones demanded.
"Wait Amelia, how do you even know about Mr. Weasley's testimony?" Dumbledore inquired.
"You just told me." Turning to Madam Bones he continued. "On the grounds of Mr. Ronald Weasley's blatant bias towards all things Slytherin. He would have said the same thing about any of my Slytherins, even Draco Malfoy who is a well-known upstanding individual." The crowd murmured seeing as Weasley had made the reference about Draco Malfoy. It was a gamble that Harry appreciated.
Looking up at Severus, he nodded in thanks. He was well aware that if the court didn't ask him a question directly, then he was not to speak. Although a part of him questioned why he was even here if they weren't going to ask him anything.
"Mr. Weasley's bias will be taken into account, but his statement will not be rejected without further proof." Madam Bones replied before turning to Sirius. "Mr. Black, would you please continue?"
Sirius took a deep breath before speaking. "This is really hard for me to do, to say. When James made me godfather, I always thought I'd be the one telling Harry about girls, and buying him the toys Lily didn't want him to have. I was going to be the cool uncle." Sirius smiled weakly before continuing, "Then Pettigrew destroyed it all. A part of me still blames myself. It was my brilliant idea to switch secret keepers. And a part of me blames myself for why we're here today. I was supposed to be there for Harry. I was supposed to protect him. I was supposed to help him find his path. But I got so caught up in revenge," Sirius paused here as if caught up in his own memories.
"So, caught up in revenge that I just, lost sight of what was important. I lost sight of the promise I made to James to watch over his son if anything happened to him. I failed. And I can only hope that James, wherever he is looking down on us, can forgive my failure."
Harry saw the tears in Sirius' eyes. Looking up at Severus, he was surprised to see the disgust planted on his face. No, Sirius would never betray him. He of all people would understand what happened.
Sirius wiped away the tears as he avoided making eye contact with Harry. "But I know James. I know that he would want me to do what was right. When Harry helped clear my name, I saw the path he was heading on. But I was sure I could change that. I was sure, so sure, that I could be there for him. Guide him back to the light."
Outwardly, Harry remained a stone mask of indifference, closing himself off to his emotion. With anyone else, he knew what this sounded like. But Sirius. 'Sirius would never betray me.' He thought. But a small voice, nagging at him. The look of disgust plain a day on his Head of House's face. Eye dripping with something more than hate, more than disgust. It was that small voice he ignored when it came to his godfather. The one that knew for all of Sirius talk, he'd not really been okay about him being a snake, could never be okay with who he was.
"I failed him, and I want to blame myself for what's happened. But I can't blame myself for what Peter did, so I'm not going to blame myself here either." Sirius looked up to Dumbledore, who gave him a small nod of encouragement.
"Harry was too far gone when I came into his life after his third year. The spells he knew. I know dark curses. My cousin is Bellatrix for chrissake. That's why I know that some of the spells Harry knows, while not dark sure couldn't be called light either. More to the point they were definitely illegal. Harry trusted me, so he didn't mind demonstrating some of the curses he knew. But even then I could tell he was holding back. That he knew way more than he was showing me."
Sirius was interrupted by Madam Bones. "And could you identify all of the spells Mr. Potter demonstrated for you?"
"That was the scariest part." Sirius looked over the Wizengamot. "I'm a Black. I've seen a lot of grey spells in my life time, but I didn't recognize all of the spells Harry showed me."
As the crowd murmured, Harry couldn't believe his ears. This had to be a bad dream. Nothing more than a nightmare. This was his godfather. His real family. He would never. This couldn't be real. Pulling up on his chains, he shook his head violently.
Before he could yell out and probably ruin his case, Severus put a hand down hard on his shoulder. Harry focused on it. It grounded him. He was not alone. Professor Snape had promised to always be there for his students. Despite the history between his father and the professor, the other man had not let him down yet.
"Please. This drivel is nothing more than the babbles of a half-insane inmate from Azkaban. Black shouldn't even be testifying. He has not recovered enough, nor has he been around Mr. Potter long enough to know anything of value about him. So Mr. Potter knows a few grey spells. They're certainly not illegal, nor did Mr. Potter ever perform the dark arts in Black's presence. I request that Black's testimony be removed from the record. He is clearly in no state to be here." Severus looked at Sirius before adding. "Mentally or otherwise."
"Mr. Black's health was taken into account before asking him to testify today. He has been cleared by St. Mungo's Hospital as being of sound mind." Dumbledore replied. "Therefore, I believe Sirius should be allowed to continue."
There was silence for a moment before Madam Bones responded. "Mr. Black, please continue."
"Alright," Sirius took a deep breath, "what I'm trying to say is that despite Ron's bias against Slytherin, he is right. Moreover, if I, his godfather, couldn't get him to change his path in a year, then a couple of years in Azkaban aren't going to change Harry's course. If anything it would only make things worse."
"What are you saying Mr. Black? Is Mr. Potter a lost cause?" Madam Bones had a curious expression on her face as she questioned Sirius.
"I'm saying that Harry had already made his choice before I had come back into his life. I've tried for more than a year, but that didn't help. Do you, any of you honestly think that one or two years or even five years in Azkaban would give Harry time to change?" Sirius paused before continuing. "I'm saying that expulsion from Hogwarts is not good enough because he already knows everything Hogwarts has to teach him. If you gave him his NEWTs right now, he'd get 'E's in just about everything, at the very least!"
Sirius broke off as if he was struggling with himself. Harry almost hoped he was. That he was fighting against an Imperius Curse.
"That's why, that's why; I'm recommending the court to treat Harry like any other adult wizard. Forget about his fame. Forget about his age. Treat Harry like any other dark wizard who used an Unforgivable Curse, and sentence him to Azkaban… for life."
July 26th, Little Before Midnight
Somewhere deep within the Ministry there were two Auror officers outside of the high security Ministry holding cells. There were three cells in this particular holding room, all your typical six feet by eight feet with the addition of several high-end wards. The cells had been redesigned to contain the likes of Grindelwald, and were, therefore, rarely used. In truth, this side of the Ministry had nearly been forgotten, which was why it was odd at this late hour to find one of the cells occupied.
Despite the high security wards on each individual cell and the holding room as a whole, the Ministry had placed actual Auror officers to guard it. One of those Auror officers was guarding the outer door to the room of the holding cells. While the other, stood right outside of the one occupied cell mostly trying to ignore the constant pacing of the cell's inhabitant.
In that tiny cell, a young man with dark hair and green eyes could be seen trying to wear a hole in the ground. Six steps forward. Sharp turn. Six steps back. Repeat. He would stop and pause every now and then, shake his head as if he couldn't believe his own thoughts, then continue again. This went on for some time with a sharp tap for every step the young man took.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Pause.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Stop that damned pacing!" the guard outside his cell exploded.
The young man paused, clearly considering whether to listen to the guard or continue pacing. One would relieve the young man's stress, while the other would keep the guard happy. Surprisingly enough, the raven haired green eyed teen took a step over to his small gray cot that lined the back of his equally gray cell, and threw himself down on it. While not the bravest thing to do, it was surely the smartest.
The guard sighed in relief before settling down for a long night. He'd been informed of very little about the circumstances regarding the boy inside that cell. But the guard wasn't blind. The guard's superiors had told him not to let the young man out of his sight, while the higher-ups proceeded with the investigation. He'd even heard that Madam Umbridge had been by earlier, but that had been during the previous guard rotation.
It puzzled him. What could the legendary Boy-Who-Lived have done to warrant a stay in this nearly forgotten holding room, while an investigation was in progress? The guard shook his head in thought. He'd been going over that question all night. He didn't really look forward to the next seven hours with the question unanswered.
"I'm sorry no one is to see the prisoner," came the guard from outside the room to the holding cells. Although the cells were heavily warded, the walls were pretty thin which made it easy to hear the conversation outside of the room. Still, whoever was out there managed to talk low enough that the guard inside the cell could make out anything more than meaningless sounds. "No one told me that." Pause as the other bloke spoke. The voice was deep enough the guard inside the room felt certain that the gent was well a gent. "Well, the paperwork does seem to be in order." The door opened to reveal the outside guard and a tall, dark haired man in black robes.
The dark man walked confidently in, his robes billowing in his wake.
"Professor?" The Boy-Who-Lived questioned as he got up from his cot.
"Harry." The professor nodded in Mr. Potter's direction before turning to the guard right outside the cell. "If you would excuse us for a moment. I need to speak with Mr. Potter about his current situation, privately."
Before the guard could reply, he was interrupted by the outside guard, "It's alright, Tanner. Professor Snape has all the right paperwork. We'll just wait outside the room."
Tanner nodded before walking toward the door. He paused at the door to look back at the Professor and the Boy-Who-Lived. Snape looked right back at him. Tanner continued out the door and watched it shut. It was a pity he wasn't going to find out what this was all about tonight.
"Harry, how are you holding up?"
"Well enough considering. Do you know how long I'll be in here?" He questioned as he attempted to grip the bars to his cell, but the wards didn't allow for that. "Shit!" He shook his hand out from the light sting.
"The wards are unusually strong here, I take it." Harry gave the Professor a sharp look choosing not to reply to that comment, "As for how long, probably until the trial. However, I haven't managed to get anyone to tell me the date, yet."
"That's alright. I'm sure it won't come to that. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived after all," Harry moved away from the bars so as not to trigger the wards again.
"I wouldn't hold too much stock in that, Harry. Dumbledore is out for blood this time."
"It doesn't matter. Sirius will come and break me out, if he thinks it could go to trial. I've already decided that it would be easier to break me out of here than Azkaban."
Severus looked at his charge with some apprehension. "Perhaps you know something I do not. Whatever the case, I'll need to know what happened if I am to defend you."
"I was attacked, Death Eaters. I only recognized Bellatrix, but there were two others. First were the dementors, then the Death Eaters. I held out for as long as I could, but no one came. It was either me or them. I wasn't going to die if I could help it. I used everything I knew, everything Professor."
"I can try to get self-defense, but the Unforgivable Curses were used, Harry. They'll give you some time in Azkaban, no matter what I say. Do you have any friends outside of the house that can speak in your favor?"
"Does any Slytherin, really?" Harry replied, but the look from the Professor got Harry to answer truthfully. "I suppose, Neville or Susan Bones might speak kindly in my favor. Or Ginny. I've saved her life once before if nothing else, I'm sure she would have something good to say about me."
"I thought as much. Bones won't be of any help to you here. Your little contact with her was common knowledge, but not good enough for this. And Molly Weasley won't be letting Ginny within a ten mile radius of this trial."
"And Neville?"
"Dumbledore's blocking me from getting in contact with Neville. By the time I do, you'll surely be in Azkaban. Your other friends will only make the matter worse." The Professor paused briefly in thought before continuing, "I'll see what I can do about discrediting any of the Gryffindors Dumbledore will want to use. One of the Weasleys boys for sure. Not Granger because of her blood status…" The Professor trailed off.
"There's one other thing I think you might want to know, Professor." Harry spoke softly. Professor Snape lifted one eyebrow in question. "Umbridge paid me a visit a couple of hours ago."
"Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister? Why?"
"To gloat mostly. But she did say one thing of interest." The professor gave Harry a look that said clearly to get on with it. "She said I was trying to fool the wizarding world into believe that Voldemort was back." Looking hard at Professor Snape Harry continued, "I always had trouble trying to figure out how dementors got to Little Whinging. But the Minister, or the Minister's Senior Undersecretary could have ordered them there."
"Are you saying?"
"Yes. Can you look into it, Professor?"
"I'll see where that avenue leads us. Unfortunately, whether she had anything to do with your attack will not help in this case. What we really need is to paint you in the whitest light possible for the upcoming trial."
"The trial? Don't worry about it Professor. Sirius will help get me out of this. Even if it's just to use his time in Azkaban to make sure I don't go there. I'm sure we don't have anything to worry about on that front. He's my godfather, and he's always telling me how he would be there for me no matter what. This is that time. What I'm more worried about is Umbridge's possible connection to Voldemort."
Severus looked at the confidence in Harry eyes, "Alright. But I'm still going to take some precautions before I look into Umbridge."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Professor."
"Thank you Mr. Black for your moving testimony. We appreciate you taking the time out of your busy day to be here." Fudge dismissed Sirius from the witness chair.
Harry sat there speechless. He barely registered Sirius' return to his seat or Dumbledore's move to speak.
"Yes, thank you Sirius. I know this was hard for you given the circumstances. With those circumstances in mind, I'd also like to speak about my own observations about Mr. Potter. Severus is right. Sirius had little more than a year to observe and get to know Mr. Potter. I, however, being his legal magical guardian until just recently, have been keeping an eye on him ever since he arrived at Hogwarts."
With a dramatic pause, Dumbledore let his comment sink in. "Once Mr. Potter had been sorted into Slytherin, I knew that I would have to try harder to get him on the right path. I tried to guide Mr. Potter, point him in the right direction. But, I fear I was unsuccessful. More importantly, I fear what this court might do because of Mr. Potter's fame and youth. I fear what could happen if we send Mr. Potter away for only a few years. I do not fear the present, but the future. A future I find that looks bleak with a free Mr. Potter to take revenge on what he certainly will see as a wrong done to him by this Ministry."
"Surely, Albus, Mr. Potter could not be much of a threat to the wizarding world half-trained and wandless. I'm sorry Mr. Black, but I don't see Mr. Potter as the threat you seem to see. Only as a slightly advanced child." Fudge replied.
"I have to agree with Minister Fudge, Headmaster. Mr. Potter is nothing but a half-trained wizard, who will be incapable of harming anyone else once expelled from Hogwarts and his wand destroyed." Madam Bones supported Fudge's comments. There was a low murmur of agreement throughout the Wizengamot. Harry distinctly heard Malfoy say his agreements to the crowd at large.
"I have seen a student like Mr. Potter before; an orphan with a thirst for power. I saw that orphan excel at everything he did, just like Mr. Potter. I saw that orphan gather followers. And I have seen that orphan become the Dark Lord Voldemort, who was the cause of so much death and destruction." Dumbledore spoke.
A large gasp went up in the Wizengamot at the use of Voldemort name. Harry did not like the comparison Dumbledore was making, but found himself becoming numb to the trial. "I will not see another Voldemort created under my watch!" At that sentence, the Wizengamot went quiet. A quiet crowd meant a thinking crowd, and in Harry's case that was bad, very bad.
"I implore you, the Wizengamot, to make sure that the Boy-Who-Lived does not become the Boy-Who-Lived to destroy the world as a new dark lord!" This time the Wizengamot shouted in agreement. "Let us stop this dark lord in the making!"
Someone in the audience said something about the kiss, while another spoke about the veil. The horror on Harry's face was surprisingly absent. All that practice at hiding his true emotions were at work even as he stared death in the face. Dumbledore was out for more than blood. He was out to kill him.
"No, Wizengamot. Let us show mercy. Let us not sentence Mr. Potter to his death by kiss or the veil. Let us simply sentence Mr. Potter for the crimes that he has committed. Let us send him to Azkaban!" Dumbledore demanded.
Harry was very glad when Severus interrupted, even if he would have liked him to have done so a little earlier. "Does no one ask why a fourteen year old boy was attacked for nearly an hour with no one to help him? This was a magical duel! With multiple adult wizards against one Hogwarts student who has not even taken his OWLS!" Severus' voice was laced with anger as he stared down the Wizengamot.
"How is it that Auror officers didn't react to heavy usage of magic within a muggle neighborhood? How was it that the Ministry failed to send notice to the Aurors about Harry's use of magic at the very start of this confrontation?" Severus demanded.
Pausing to take a breath Severus continued as he looked Dumbledore straight in the eyes, "Has no one, no one, asked themselves why there wasn't anyone sent to help Harry Potter?"
There was silence for a moment before Dumbledore answered, "What happened is irrelevant…"
"Irrelevant!? Mr. Potter used those spells in defense of his life and his cousin's" Severus interrupted.
Here Dumbledore cut Severus off, "Come know, it is well-known that Mr. Potter hates his relatives." Dumbledore looked over to Madam Bones before continuing, "More to the point, Mr. Potter had other options besides using the dark arts or the Unforgivable Curses."
Severus didn't give Dumbledore any more time to speak, "And if there weren't any other options? Then what?" Severus looks into Fudge's eyes, "We would be mourning the death of the Boy-Who-Lived right now." Fudge turned an interesting shape as Severus looked to Madam Bones, "Those spells were in his defense! Are you to sentence Mr. Potter to death in Azkaban simply for defending himself?"
Severus walked slowly around the chamber looking over the Wizengamot. "I am not saying not to punish Harry. Disciplinary actions must be taken, but life in Azkaban? Can the Wizengamot really send a child to that place to rot?"
"We will if we must Severus. And I say we must!" Dumbledore commanded.
Snape began to speak again but was interrupted by Madam Bones, "Enough, Mr. Snape. You have made your point. I believe the court is ready to make its decision."
"Yes, we are definitely ready for a vote." Fudge said.
Harry watched in agony as the Wizengamot decided his fate. Before, he had not believed they would have even considered sending him to Azkaban. Now. Now, anything could happen.
"I ask the jury to raise their hands if they believe that crimes committed deserve expulsion and a minor sentence in Azkaban." As Fudge finished speaking, he along with a few others, Harry noticed Malfoy, raised their hands. Maybe a dozen of the witches and wizards, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
"Alright then, juries please raise your hand if you believe the crimes committed deserve a life sentence in Azkaban."
Here, the majority of the hands went up, along with Dumbledore and Madam Bones. Fudge muttered slightly to himself while shaking his head. Fudge looked over to Madam Bones for sentencing, who gave a quick nod to the Minister.
"Harry James Potter," she began, but was interrupted by a sickly sweet voice from the back of the chamber.
"Hem-Hem. Excuse me." A toad like shadowy figure moving toward the front of the high benches where Minister Fudge, Dumbledore, and Madam Bones were seated. "Excuse me." It didn't take long before the figure of Umbridge came to settle next to the Minister.
"Can I help you Dolores?" Madam Bones asked icily.
Umbridge ignored her as she handed Minister Fudge a sealed letter. "This was just approved for Mr. Potter's trial, Minister," came her girlish voice.
Fudge looked up at Umbridge in confusion before opening the letter. His eyes read over it quickly before paling considerable. "This is…" He stopped himself from speaking. Looking around to see all eyes on him, he shakily giving the parchment to Madam Bones, "for you to read."
A sense of dread filled Harry as he looked at Minister Fudge. He looked spooked, scared even. Whatever Umbridge had given him was not something he had been expecting, and was not likely anything good for Harry. At this point, however, he didn't really see how his situation could get any worse.
Madam Bones read the parchment and blanched. "This is entirely unnecessary, Dolores. We do not need to go this far." The Wizengamot erupted in conversation.
Umbridge looked Madam Bones in the eyes, glee evident on her face, "It has already been approved. The arrangements are final, Amelia."
Madam Bones looked at the parchment again, clearly checking it for errors. Shaking her head, Madam Bones began to speak again, her voice was unwavering, "Harry James Potter, having already been found guilty, you are here for sentencing. This court convened on the twenty-ninth of July has sentenced you to life in Azkaban. Because of your age, this court finds it imperative to have you serve three consecutive life sentences for the use of the Unforgivable curses, in addition to sixty-five years for the use of the dark arts for a total of three hundred and five years." Here Madam Bones paused, looked first to Umbridge then Dumbledore. "Moreover, this court finds it necessary to hold you in Anaon."
The court gasped as Madam Bones continued, "The cell in the heart of the prison away from other prisoners that you may be able to influence under the heaviest dementor guard available."
Harry had only heard of rumors about Anaon when he was researching Azkaban his third year. It could not possible exist. Not with those stories.
"This is too much Amelia! I asked the court for mercy not this." Dumbledore replied instantly.
"Did you not call for Potter to be placed within Azkaban?" Umbridge questioned.
"Azkaban, yes, but Anaon? No one has lasted a month in Anaon. I did not ask to sentence the boy to death. This is just too much!" Dumbledore raged.
"Too much! Nothing is too much for the safety of the wizarding world!" Umbridge replied. "Potter tried to mislead the wizarding world with the so called return of You-Know-Who, when all this time he was the one we should have been wary of. Today marks the end of his terror. What better place to put the vilest wizard of this decade, of this age than Anaon of Azkaban."
Before Dumbledore could argue further, Fudge spoke, "Enough. It has already been done. It cannot be changed. Unless, Albus, you want to change your position?" Fudge waited for Dumbledore to respond, but he held his tongue settling back into his seat. "I didn't think so." Fudge shook his head in thought, "The location doesn't matter. We would have done the same thing to You-Know-Who, if he had been captured instead of destroyed."
Severus placed his hand firmly on Harry's shoulder taking him away from his thoughts. "I'm sorry. I've failed you Harry." The sad look Severus gave him seemed to make this all too real. This man, not the betrayer Sirius, had been like a father to him. He only wished he'd put his trust behind this man, instead of his so called godfather.
Severus backed away as the dementors, tall, hooded creatures whose faces were concealed, glided slowly toward him. The chains loosen as the dementors drew near. The cold, his mother's screams, all seemed to be rushing up on him, but he would not succumb. Not yet.
"You will regret this." His voice was soft, yet strong as he spoke directly to the Wizengamot. His eyes never leaving Dumbledore's. Umbridge may have sent him to Anaon, but it was Dumbledore's words that had damned him. He held the Headmaster's gaze for as long as he could, before the dementors touch was too much.
Harry awoke in what he could only assume was Anaon. There was a bowl of food on the ground and the dementors were gone. Not far, he could still feel their coldness, but far enough that he was able to sit up and eat. The food was tasteless, but filling. After taking care of some very pressing concerns, he tried to remember how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was the courtroom.
No, that wasn't quite right. He remembered his mother and Voldemort. He remembered the basilisk and little Ginny. He remembered the fear of a transformed Remus. And the Triwizard Tournament, a reminder of his most recent nightmares. But mostly, he remembered his cupboard. His cupboard had long since been a calming place. But when he was younger?
Snapping his eyes open, not sure when he'd closed them. He forced himself out of those memories. So vivid. His past come to haunt him. Was this to be his life now? Haunted by his own memories? His fears? It would have been kinder to have sent him across the veil.
Harry's dark thoughts turned darker, colder as the dementors returned. Engulfed in a hellish nightmare, he slept, or tried to.
A week went by, measured only by each meal as no light seemed to shine here in Anaon. Seven meals. That's how he measured it. Seven, when hellish memories morphed into something far worse. And he would never forget the first time he watched as Voldemort tortured his mother. She begged, pleaded for her life, but Voldemort only laughed. Laughed and looked straight at him. Taunting him, showing him things Harry knew were impossible. But oh how real.
His fight in the chamber ended poorly. He had been careless and the basilisk had crush little Ginny in her sleep. But of course, it didn't stop there. No, she would then get up, bones broken, blood everywhere, eyes filled with disgust. And it was his fault, everything was his fault. Why didn't he tell someone about Riddle? She would be alive if only he had trusted his own head of house! He killed her. He'd killed Ginny Weasley, just as Tom had killed Myrtle. He'd killed his Ginny.
The werewolf had mauled him, then Harry would watch as a faceless man beheaded Remus for his crimes. If only he'd not gone out there on his own.
Harry was tortured for weeks with modifications of his memories, and sometimes they would combine. The first time Ginny and his mother had been tortured and killed by Tom had been the worst. Or he'd thought it was, until it got worse, and it always got worse. Or maybe it was the continued helplessness that made it worse. He could do nothing to stop Tom. Just watch.
Watching Ginny, watching the people he cared about so brutally tortured, but it was their eyes. Their eyes begging him to make it stop. But how could he? He was a little boy alone in his cupboard. Powerless to stop anyone or anything.
Harry grew to welcome the horrors of his true memories. Horrifying as they were, they were far more common than the small breaks the dementors left him to eat. As time went by, even those breaks seemed to disappear. Or perhaps he was just so tired he slept through them. And then he lost track of time.
And one day after and unknown number of days of his imprisonment, the memories came true but strong, stronger than they had ever been. And the cold, was all consuming. Opening his eyes, he stared into the cold lifeless eyes of a dementor.
A sigh passed his lips as he closed his eyes once more, soon it all would be over. Death would be a sweet release from his nightmares. He had started to loss his grip on reality. What was true? What was a product of his own imagination? It was impossible to tell these days. Still, it mattered little now. Anaon could claim another victim. He was happy to let it. His breath came in hard shallow wasps as he felt his own life force leaving him.
Harry woke face down on a floor that was neither warm nor cold. There was silence, and sweet nothingness surrounded him. No dementors tormented him here. Turning around he looked up into the bright mist. This wasn't exactly how he imagined the 'next great adventure', but who was he to judge. Laying there just looking up at nothing was a peace he'd not felt in what felt like forever. But it was not to last as a noise startled him from his empty thoughts. A soft thumping. A truly pitiful sound.
The longer Harry looked the more he could see. Above him glittered a great domed glass roof and all around was whiteness that seemed to clear with time. He briefly considered laying there for eternity. He did have all the time in the world now. But he was starkers, and that pitiful noise was starting to annoy him. Slowly he stood and looked down. Now, if only he were wearing clothes. No sooner did the thought leave his mind, did he find himself wearing blood-red robes with an intricately worked black phoenix stretched out across it. It was a little known fact that Harry had always been partial to the color red.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The soft thumping noise sounded again. Dusting off imaginary dirty from his robes, he made his way over toward the noise.
"Ah, there you are." He spoke softly as he spotted the small, naked child, skin raw and rough. It was clearly the source of the noise. It's breathing came in rough, ragged gasps. Clearly, every breath a struggle. 'So small, so fragile.' He thought as he took his boot and stomped it out of existence.
No sooner did his foot touch the frail thing, then Harry was overwhelmed by memories upon memories. None, his own.
It was a dingy orphanage. There were other fellow orphans, and a control of magic that he had never known before. One memory stood out from the rest. There was a young Tom and Dumbledore. A Dumbledore like he'd never seen before, but that face. Even with fewer wrinkles and redder hair Harry would never forget that face.
"I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. I can make them hurt if I want to, I can speak to snakes too. They find me, they whisper to me."
A memory of filching things from the other orphans, trophies? The summer trip the orphans went to every summer, and one summer… 'Oh, Tom, you naughty, naughty boy.' The orphanage reminded Harry strongly of his stay at the Dursleys. No wonder, Dumbledore had problems trusting him.
"…poor, but brilliant, parent-less, but so brave, a school prefect, a model student…"
And there was a group of students, friends in public but truly servants. It was nothing like his relationship to Theo or Tracey or Daphne or Blaise.
Memories of the discovery of the Slytherin ancestry, the Chamber of Secrets, and the taming of the basilisk. The framing of Hagrid for the death of Myrtle. Award for Special Services to the School.
There was Slughorn, the previous head of Slytherin house and potion master at Hogwarts, the slug club. And then there was the creation of Lord Voldemort, and Tom's method for immortality. There was Slughorn again. Oh, he should have known better.
"Well, you split your soul, you see, and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But, of course, existence in such a form, few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable." Slughorn spoke.
"How do you split your soul?" Tom questioned.
"Well, you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature." Slughorn replied.
"But how do you do it?" Tom demanded.
"By an act of evil - the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: he would encase the torn portion…"
There were memories of Tom discovering his muggle family and the Gaunt bloodline. So, Tom wasn't lying when he'd said they shared a similar background, half-bloods.
There were so many memories. Morfin and Slytherin's ring, the death of Tom Riddle Sr. and the entire Riddle family, the creation of Tom's first and second Horcrux; the ring, the diary. Ah, but there were more. Finding Ravenclaw's diadem, another Horcrux. Working for Borgin and Burkes and Hephzibah Smith. She led to two more Horcruxes; Slytherin's locket and Helga Hufflepuff's Cup.
There were more. So many memories. The spells, and the dark magic.
The memories from when Tom tried to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts position from Dumbledore. And the curse that followed. No wonder Hogwarts always needed a new DADA professor after each year.
The locations for all of the Horcrux. 'Now why would you put it there Tom?' The memories of hiding the diadem, giving the diary to Malfoy, the locket to Regulus, the Cup to Bellatrix. And the ring, close to home. But you wanted seven, didn't you Tom.
The memories didn't end there. Harry saw the wizarding world's greatest weakness played against them. Outcast creatures, the werewolves, the goblins. And so much more.
Harry shouted awake repelling the dementors with his snake patronus. Breathing heavily he looked at his surroundings. His meals for the past three days were on the ground at their usual place. A hunger that had eluded him returned with a vengeance. If he was going to make it, then he'd need to stop missing meals.
After eating, he leaned back on his bunk. Letting his head rest on the hard cold stone wall behind him. He'd been a Horcrux. That was in itself a surprising realization. The diary had been one as well. He'd been close on that front. He'd known that diary had to have something like a living memory in it to be able to possess, but the creation eluded him.
'A Horcrux?' It was what Voldemort used to obtain immortality. Unfortunately, Horcrux weren't true immortality. Once the soul left the body, it was defenseless. Horcrux were useless for immortality. Voldemort wanted to be immortal, but all the Horcrux had accomplished was creating seven mortal vessels. Each weaker then the next. No, if one was to pursue immortality, a Horcrux was not the way to go.
Harry took a couple of minutes to let his own thoughts and memories circle around him. "Would you want to live forever?" There were no spiders in his new cupboard, but he could pretend. Pretend to be back in Little Whinging talking to his spider companions.
"This world has not been kind to me. No, I don't want it to end yet. But I don't think I'd want it to last forever. I hate to be in agreement with Dumbledore, but there are worst things than death." A bark of amusement choked through as the through ran through him. Whether intentional or not, Dumbledore had been sure to show him the wisdom in that. "No, I'll live as long as I will. And in that time, I'll make my own world."
Harry waited for the cold of the dementors' return that should have occurred by now, but he felt nothing. 'That's right, wandless patronus charm. That should give me enough time to begin organizing my mind.'
After all, he had a brand new set of memories to go through. It would take time. Time to sort and increase his wandless magic. But he had all the time in the world. 305 years of it.