Authors Note: Hello, faithful readers. Sorry I took so long to update. I had to go to a wedding out of town and don't own a laptop, so I didn't get a chance to write. Many great thanks to all who reviewed. Guess what, time jump! Don't worry, those of you who hate time jumps. I'm pretty sure this'll be the last one for my story. I just didn't really want to type three years worth of Harry going through his training and Voldemort messing things up for the Order. Anyway, Read On faithful viewers!

Ps. I dedicate this here update to my great friend Maddie, whose birthday is this weekend. Happy birthday, Maddie, though I doubt you are reading this!

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. (Not for lack of trying, though.)

Chapter 4 One Good Birthday Present!

3 Years Later-

"Oof!" Harry felt the wind get knocked out of him as he was pushed on to the ground. Harry pushed the sweaty hair out of his eyes to glare at the grinning seven-foot tall dementor. Harry blinked at the grin; he'd been living with dementors for 3 years now, and he still couldn't get used to seeing them show emotions. The dementor reached down and pulled a grumbling Harry off the floor of their training room. They had "borrowed" one of the level 1 security cells for training. The foot thick metal walls were perfect for blocking out the sound of random magical explosions and Harry getting his but served to him on a silver platter in hand to hand combat with the dementors.

Harry was also still unused to his new amount of power. It was constantly surprising him, occasionally doing random things (see magical explosions, paragraph one); but he had mostly learned how to control it and roll with the punches when he couldn't. It really only acted up when his life was in danger. For some reason, it refused to respond to his emotions. (Which Juan said was a good thing, but that irked Harry as he was sure his power just considered his "puny human emotions" beneath its dignity.)

"Good job," the dementor praised. "You almost had me blocked there."

"Almost doesn't mean I did." Harry grouched. He still had no idea why the dementors insisted he learn hand to hand, but he still hated losing.

The dementor sighed; they'd been through this before. "Harry, you are doing exceptionally well for just a twenty year old wizard. I and the other dementors have had hundreds of years of practice; you've had three. Plus, we dementors are twice your size. You don't stand a chance, but you can beat the younger dementors. Be proud of yourself."

Harry scowled and then relented. He felt a bit better about it now. "I know, thanks, Uncle Morty." Harry smiled crookedly. Uncle Morty was not actually his uncle (duh) but was Juan and Cindy's dad, and Harry had sort of been adopted into their family. Right away, calling him dad was out. So was grandpa, cousin, or brother, so they had settled on uncle. Harry grinned even wider as he remembered that Uncle Morty had actually been one of the dementors to attack him and Sirius at Hogwarts.

Sirius. For a moment, Harry's smile faltered. 'No, don't think about him.' Harry quickly replastered the smile on his face. Uncle Morty looked at Harry a bit suspiciously, as if seeing the slip, but let it go. Harry barely held in a sigh of relief.

As the dementors absolutely loved helping people, they had taken it upon themselves to try to help Harry figure out and deal with every emotion he had towards his ex- friends/family and life in Azkaban. Harry seriously hoped their normal way of cheering people up was better than this. He knew they were trying to help but man! It was annoying constantly being asked to explain every little sigh or frown.

Only a few of the dementors, such as Juan, let him try to work things out for himself, figuring he needed to do this on his own. Harry was grateful for that because he did need to figure things out, but, to be honest, being constantly attacked about it didn't make Harry want to face it any sooner. Many of the dementors, such as Uncle Morty, were not constantly bombarding Harry with questions about his feelings. They usually only spoke up if Harry looked like he needed help. Harry did not mind this much either. What he did mind, though, was the dementors, like Cindy, who seemed to think his inner child was in constant need of talking about every single feeling.

Oh, don't get him wrong. He did like Cindy. Very much so, but she could get really annoying. In truth, the dementors were more Harry's family now, than the Weasleys had ever been. They understood him (mostly), and the bond between him and Voldemort, which Harry had learned how to manipulate for himself. This time Harry did allow a scowl on his face.

"Some birthday this is." And it was, indeed, his birthday, his twentieth to be exact.

"Hey," Uncle Morty said, putting his hands up in surrender. "You're the one who wanted to train every day."

"Well, you went full blast today." Harry retorted.

Uncle Morty smiled. "Consider it a birthday present. You know Juan is always trying to get me to fight my hardest."

"Yeah, well, that's Juan; and we all know he's a little off, even for a dementor."

"Hey!" Juan's voice flooded from the door to the training room.

Harry jumped, turned around, and glared. 'Why can't dementors make noise when they move?'

"I was going to tell you what your special birthday present was" Juan continued. "But now I don't think I will.

Harry shrugged. Knowing Juan, it was probably some sort of prank present. Juan looked quite unhappy at Harry's indifference. He was just opening his mouth to speak when Cindy came up behind him and slapped him on the back of the head.

"You know he won't be interested if you put it that way." She scolded. Turning to Harry, she said, "Harry, our combined birthday present to you, today, is your freedom."

"But it's mostly from me!" Juan yelled in the background. Cindy stomped on his foot.

"What?" Harry felt confused. He was leaving? I mean, he was happy to be leaving Azkaban (as nice as they had fixed it up, it was still dank and depressing); and he had always known he would leave eventually, but this was a lot to take in.

"We proved your innocence, Harry. You're going home. To the ... wizarding world." Cindy's voice cracked on the last two words, and while Harry had never seen a dementor cry, he was sure she would if she could. He stepped forward to wrap her in a hug.

"My home is here." He whispered. (A/N: Don't mock the corniness!) "I may be going somewhere else, but my home will always be with you, the people I care about." Whether Cindy was more touched with Harry saying he cared about her or that she was a person, not a monster, Harry did not know.

"Just make sure you come to visit, often." She sniffed. Harry nodded, extremely happy to see her stop crying. He was no better with crying girls now than he had been with Cho Chang fifth year.

"Ok," Juan said, clapping his hands together, "what Cindy here has failed to mention is that they will be here in less than an hour."

Harry looked at the two dementors with wide eyes. "How?"

"Doesn't matter." Juan replied briskly. "Now you must tell me something very, very important. Do you want to mess with them when they get here?" The look he gave Harry implied he expected no less from his almost-adopted brother and would have to take a serious personality check on Harry if he said no.

Harry hadn't thought of that. What was he going to do? He immediately decided to ignore anyone he knew personally and freak out the rest. (And quite possibly the ones he knew, too.) He would vent out how he felt to all the ones he was going to ignore later; for now, he just wanted to make them suffer as much as possible; and this seemed like a good way to do just that.

"You know it!"

Juan grinned at Harry's expected reply and pulled his hood up, as did Cindy. Harry looked at them strangely for a moment before realizing something. He was so used to seeing their faces that he had forgotten how wizards react to them. Of course, they wanted to freak whoever was coming to pick Harry up out, but not too much. Just enough to make them question every sane thing they used to think they knew, but soon will not be to sure about.

Harry grinned back and slapped a high five with Juan. "Let's go kick some wizard but!"

~Sirius POV~

I was disgusted with myself. I sat in a swiftly moving boat along with my best friend (and resident werewolf) Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore. I mentally cursed myself, calling myself twenty different kinds of stupid. How could I have just given Harry up like that? I should have known. The exact same thing had happened to me! If anyone should have known, it was me. I hadn't even asked for veritaserum. (A/N: Somebody please tell if that is how you spell that!)

No, I had just taken the shoddy evidence and believed it without question. How could I not have believed Harry? I knew the kindhearted boy that Harry was, knew that he would never do something like that; and yet… I had taken Harry's trust and just thrown it away like garbage. And the worst part was how hard it was for Harry to trust. I know Harry will probably never forgive any of us ever again, and who can blame him?

I mean, why should he? The wizarding world had just used him as a convenient little pawn and thrown him away at the slightest doubt to his morals. I was a failure as a godfather. Lily and James would be ashamed of me. I had no right to be coming to set him free, no right to hope he was still sane, no right to hope that maybe, just maybe, he could forgive us. And yet, I had to hope.

I looked up at the looming castle of Azkaban. Self-loathing filled me to the brim, mixing with all the other unpleasant emotions already inside of me and leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Would Harry still be sane? Three and a half years in Azkaban was a short amount of time compared to my twelve years, but Harry had far worse memories than me and no animagus form to protect him.

If anyone could survive Azkaban sane, it was Harry. The boy was a walking enigma. You had no idea what he would do, and he could always end up surprising you with his strength. He did things no one else could or would do. I felt sure he would have survived, but would his morals have survived with him? Would he have turned dark?

'No!' I silently berated myself. 'You doubted him once, don't do it again.'

The boat pulled up to shore, and all three of us carefully stepped out on to the barren wasteland that was Azkaban. Harsh memories invaded my mind, but I pushed them away. Harry, this was about Harry. They needed to rescue him, and his sanity, if at all possible, from this horrid place. I looked over at Remus. His face was twisted in the pain and turmoil that I knew coursed through my best friend. I sidled over and put my arm around the despondent werewolf. Remus smiled weakly up at me at the touch.

"Do you think he's alright?" Remus whispered hoarsely, then stopped to consider his words and shook his head. "No, he can't be 'alright'. He's in Azkaban. But do you think he's, well…"

"Sane?" I finished for him. I tightened my grip around the werewolf's shoulders, and I repeated my earlier thoughts. "If anyone can survive sane, he can." The werewolf's slumped posture straightened just a bit and then slumped again.

"But even so, do you think he will forgive us?" What could I say to that? I couldn't lie to my best friend and say 'yes, I think he will,' now could I?

Dumbledore (A/N: Yeah, you thought I forgot about him… well, maybe just for a few paragraphs.) watched the entire exchange with a sad expression on his face. With a small, unhappy shake of his head, he turned to the doors of Azkaban. After twisting the key and pressing his hand to the plaque on the door, which was keyed into his magical signature, he pulled open the door to Azkaban.

The sight that greeted me there nearly knocked me off my feet.

Author's Note Again! Cliffhanger-please don't hate me; I had to end it somewhere. Please review, I love getting those, and could someone please tell me how to spell Luna's father's name. I have no idea and don't want to have to go through the books to find out. I know, lazy me. Anyway, though he won't be showing up in the next chapter, he will show up eventually. Thanks for reading!