Harry Potter and the Dementors of Azkaban

by Blue Skyes101

Harry is sent to Azkaban and everyone believes he is guilty. Harry then realizes a strange truth about dementors. Are they really as evil as they seem to be, or just under a curse? Can Harry save them and prove his innocence?

13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. However, I do own all my OC's, and that's almost as good. (Not really)

Chapter 13 – Talk with Kreacher and attack!

Feeling exhausted, Harry silently apparated back to the Order headquarters. He cast an illusion charm on himself and checked to see who was home. No one. Hmm… that's odd. He would have at least expected Mrs. Weasley to be there, cleaning or some such thing. It was pretty late out. Shrugging and deciding he didn't care what they did, Harry walked up to his room. Upon entering, Harry found Kreacher there, cleaning up.

"Oh, welcome back, Master Harry!" The elf squealed excitedly. He seemed to be getting saner by the hour, or at least sane by house elf standards. Harry was beginning to wonder if Dobby was really that different from other house elves, or if he, Harry, had just gotten the dubious pleasure of meeting two of the very few weirdo house elves in this generation.

"'Lo, Kreacher," Harry stifled a yawn.

Kreacher immediately looked worried. "Master Harry sounds tired."

"Yeah, well, it's been a long day, Kreacher." Harry allowed the house elf to take his cloak and pull him over to the comfy-looking sofa. Harry yawned, fully this time.

"Kreacher will get Master Harry something to eat." Kreacher brought Harry over a huge plate of food before beginning to clean up the kitchen, which was now so spotless even Aunt Petunia would be jealous.

"Thanks, Kreacher," Harry began to chew happily, enjoying the mini-feast when a thought struck him. "Hey, Kreacher."

"Master Harry needs something?" The elf immediately put down the sparkling pot he was scrubbing in order to rush over excitedly, but Harry waved him off.

"No, no, go ahead and keep cleaning, Kreacher. I just have a question."

"Ask anything, Master Harry," the elf said happily, delighted to be of any service. Harry was a tad stunned at the change in Kreacher, but, he supposed, maybe house elves needed work and orders to stay sane. Otherwise, they probably would have already taken over the world. It would make sense-why else would they love it so much?

"What side do house elves take in the war?" Kreacher looked confused, so Harry went on. "Do they just have to side with their master, or can they have a differing opinion?"

"Well," Kreacher said slowly, "house elves need to stay on our master's side; but we can prefer another side if we choose. No one cares about our opinions, though; and we usually will feel the same as our masters, so no one tries to openly support a different side. Occasionally, some of us may even go behind our masters' backs to help that side!" Kreacher spoke as if such a thing was scandalous and unheard of. Yup, Dobby was definitely a weirdo. "Then they will need to punish themselves-as well they should-but they can still help another side if they really feel that strongly about it."

Hmm…..Harry thought about that for a moment before throwing out his next question. "Kreacher, let's say I have a friend who's a house elf-just pretend, Kreacher, no need to look so horrified-and who works at Hogwarts. If I went to him to ask for help, would he be able to help me? And would he have to tell Dumbledore?"

Kreacher looked at Harry curiously. "When you say he is working for Hogwarts, do you mean that he is owned by Hogwarts?"

"No, he's paid to work there."

Kreacher looked very much disgusted by even the idea of getting paid for his work, but he answered dutifully. "He should be able to, if he is not owned by Dumbledore," the elf spat the name with a venom and disgust that Harry thoroughly admired. "But, as he was once a true house elf, yes? He would only report it if specifically order to, or if he is asked by Dumbledore if he is helping you or seeing you. Even if he is not a true house elf, he would most likely be loyal to Hogwarts and its headmaster."

Harry grinned. Even Dumbledore wouldn't think he was getting help from Dobby. After all, what wizard (besides Granger) thought of house elves? "Thank you very much, Kreacher, you've been a great help." The old elf beamed at the praise, and Harry was struck by the thought that he had never heard Kreacher speak so much before. Harry continued to eat in silence before he realized that Kreacher might know the reason behind the lack of traitors in the house. "Hey, Kreacher, do you know where the Order is?"

"Does sir mean the blood traitors, and mudbloods, and-"

"Yes, yes, them."

The elf frowned in distaste. "One of the older less ugly-though not by much- red-haired blood traitors came to the house bearing some sort of news. The others were in the middle of one of their pointless meetings."

"What was the news?"

"Kreacher does not know; he did not care to know. Does Master Harry wish for Kreacher to know?"

Harry nodded. "That would be very helpful, Kreacher. Please, next time I'm away, keep track of what they're doing and report to me. Now, what happened after they heard the news?"

Kreacher scowled even deeper, if possible. "They started making noise, and there was a big uproar. They all left; upsetting my mistress as they did so. Stupid little-"

"Okay," Harry said, finishing his food and getting up. "I'm going to go downstairs to try to find out what the news was." Harry turned to leave but stopped and turned around to say, "Wait, Kreacher, has Lupin returned yet?"

"Werewolf-traitor?" Harry nodded his head, and Kreacher shook his head. "No, sir, not yet."

"Ok, thanks, I'll see you later." As Harry recast his invisibility charm, he pondered how much more convenient it was to have Kreacher as a house elf. Any other one would have tried to insist that Harry rest while they did the work; but years with the Blacks had Kreacher not questioning him in the least. Dobby would have been a nightmare.

Harry walked quickly down the stairs; not caring about making noise because no one was there-he was being cautious, not paranoid. He hurried into the kitchen and began to silently inspect it. The Order sure had left in a hurry. Chairs were knocked over in the hustle to get out. Several mugs of tea on the table had been knocked over, spilling their contents everywhere. There was even a broken cup on the ground where someone had (presumably) dropped it in shock. Harry reached down to pick it up and accidentally cut his finger on the sharp, broken glass.

"Ouch!"

He quickly stuck his finger in his mouth and put the cup back on the floor, wiping off the bead of blood that had appeared there while doing so. Harry turned his attention to Dumbledore's head chair, where there was a note spello taped to it.

Remus,

There was an attack on the village. Gone to help,

The Order

Harry scoffed at how they had just left the note right there out in the open. They trusted both the fidealous charm and each other far too much. Harry was sure there was at least one real traitor planted by Voldemort in the Order of idiots. Also, "the village?" Wizards suck at naming things; it's official. Come on, Hogwarts? Harry shook his head in disgust at the unprofessional-ism. He returned the note to Dumbledore's chair and was turning to go when he heard the door open; and Lupin's voice ring out.

"I have some news on Harry!"

He didn't sound too happy about the news. Harry quickly turned on his heel and silently apparated to the village before Lupin could see him. Here was a perfect opportunity to scope out Tommy Boy face to face.

Remus Lupin Walked into the door of headquarters calling, "I have some news on Harry!" He sounded miserable, and he knew it. How could he not feel miserable? Harry had evaded him once more, and he hadn't even been able to help Harry at all. Suddenly, as he walked through the hallway, he realized how eerily silent it was. Where was everyone? Panic gripped him, but he forced himself to walk calmly to the kitchen.

Immediately, a familiar scent invaded his nose; but he ignored it instead for the note taped to a chair, Dumbledore's if he was correct. The room was a mess; Molly Weasley was going to be furious when she got back. Lupin quickly read over the note, his anxiety growing with every word. This was the second attack this week! It seemed like Voldemort was really trying to discourage people since the recent freedom of Harry. Or, he could just be feeling more evil as of late.

Wait a minute. Lupin quickly turned his nose to the oh-so familiar scent that he hadn't been able to place. He followed it to where the scent was strongest-a broken tea cup on the floor. Picking it up, he saw a small smudge of blood on the ragged edge of the cup. He leaned close and inhaled deeply, trying to place where he had smelled it before. Suddenly, he dropped the cup in shock and recognition; and it broke even further.

Harry.

It was Harry's scent. Harry had been here. Recently, too-only a few moments before, according to the freshness of the scent.

'Why?' Lupin asked, head spinning. He spent a few more moments lost in thought before he suddenly realized that all the time he spent day dreaming about Harry was time the Order spent fighting off Voldemort. Quickly, Remus rushed back out the door and apparated to the battle.

Harry began coughing immediately upon his arrival at the village. The reason was that several nearby buildings were burning. Glancing around, Harry saw that it was a small village, only with six buildings, four of which were on fire; and he could tell why the ministry hadn't bothered to give it a proper name. But why was Voldemort here? Was there something special here he wanted, or…was it Harry's fault he was here, burning buildings and endangering people's lives? Was he only attacking this village to get Harry to come out? Harry knew deep down that it was the latter, and he felt his heart freeze at the thought. But he pushed away the feeling, knowing that Voldemort would have attacked another village anyways-almost certainly a larger, more populated one.

With smoke stinging his eyes, Harry raised his arm and cast a wand less aguamenti spell, dousing out the fire on the nearest house. Looking around, he spied the death eaters and the Order doing battle in a small courtyard near the middle of the village. In the middle, near a fountain, Voldemort and Dumbledore were having one of those talking/duel things where you seem to spend more time talking about each other and your feelings than trying to kill each other.

Harry had a sudden and brief flashback to the Department of Mysteries, when he had been possessed by Voldemort, and after he had watched Black get hit by a curse from Bellatrix Lestrange, falling a mere few inches if from the Veil of Death. He had learned a little of the prophecy that day, but not all as Dumbledore hadn't deigned to tell him all of it. And it had only been a half a year after that that Harry had been chucked into Azkaban.

Now thoroughly in a bad mood, at both the memories and seeing the Order again with them able to see him, Harry stalked down the path by the houses, putting out fires along the way, towards Voldemort with a scowl worthy of Victor Krum on his face. Voldemort's face twisted into an ugly, noseless, and expectant smile at the sight of Harry. Dumbledore looked shocked but pleased that Harry had come. Voldemort obviously thought that Harry was still completely connected to his mind and had tried to send Harry an image about the attack, and he seemed to think it had worked. How, since Harry had been blocking all the images sent to him and sending him back dirty ones, did he think that, Harry did not know.

"Ahh, the man of the hour, Harry Potter. I hope your stay in Azkaban was pleasant."

Harry, having decided to not do the talk/duel, just ignored this and went straight for a conversation stopper. "Do bugs ever fly up your nose-holes and into your brain? Is that why you're so insane?"

Absolute silence followed this proclamation; everyone was too surprised to fight each other. Finally, Black broke the silence with laughter, causing all the other Order members to chuckle as well; and the death eaters started attacking again in rage. Dumbledore himself chuckled, and Voldemort narrowed his eyes in anger but made no move towards Harry.

'Oh, someone's been taking anger management classes. Good for him,' Harry thought sardonically.

Voldemort began to stare intensely at Harry, eyes flashing. This went on for several minutes, with Dumbledore looking confused, Voldemort getting more enraged by the second, and Harry beginning to fear for his purity. Finally, it occurred to Harry what Voldemort was trying to do; and he burst out laughing. Harry was practically rolling on the floor, he was laughing so hard, which is not a good thing if you're in the middle of a battle; but Voldemort seemed too stunned to do anything.

"It's not going to work, so you can stop trying to invade my mind now," Harry gasped out between laughs. Voldemort instantly began throwing every hex and curse he knew at Harry, who was deftly dodging them. Moldy Shorts was so much slower than the dementors. "What's the matter there, Voldy? Gettin' a little old, are we?"

Voldemort just continued to throw hex after hex at Harry. This moment was when Lupin chose to arrive. He stared, struck by the scene of Harry battling Voldemort, as did Dumbledore, who still wasn't doing anything. Harry practically growled at the two of them.

"What are you two idiots gawking at? Get a move on, and go help the villagers evacuate!" Harry could hear over the din of the battle the wails of crying children and the moans of a man trapped under a fallen beam in one of the previously burning houses. It practically tore Harry in two that he couldn't help them because of Voldemort, and these two royal buffoons were just standing there!

Immediately, Lupin and Dumbledore burst into action, conjuring stretchers and rushing over to help the trapped man and his kids. But where was the mother? Harry glanced around while dodging another of Voldemort's annoying spells. Suddenly, Harry gasped in sadness. He saw her lying on the road, throat cut open by a stray cutting hex from one of the death eaters. Blinded by his grief over an innocent woman's death, Harry felt his cheek sting as one of Voldy's hex's grazed it. He turned around to glare at Voldemort with a vengeance. He may not be able to kill him quite yet, but the death eaters were fair game.

Harry calmly began walking between the battlers, ignoring Voldemort who looked like he was going to explode with anger as curses kept missing, and because Harry was paying him no attention. Hey, maybe if Harry annoyed him enough, Voldy's head would explode, saving Harry the trouble of killing him! The death eaters and the Order ignored Harry as he walked by, assuming he was too busy with Voldemort to help/hurt their fights. Harry began cursing the death eaters as he walked by. The Order members, who dueled the death eaters, looked up at Harry in surprise but moved on to help other Order members in their fights.

It wasn't long before all the death eaters were unable to fight. Voldemort had only brought a couple inner circle ones and, like, twelve expendable ones, as he seemed to have thought Harry wouldn't put up much of a fight. Harry glanced over at Voldemort, who was growing tired, after having tripped the last death eater. Voldemort growled but realized that it was time to make a strategic retreat.

"My Lord!" called one of the fallen death eater newbies. "Please, help us, my Dark Lord!" Voldemort just smiled cruelly at the death eater before apparating away. "What? B-but, my Lo-"

"Oh, stuff it!" growled one of the inner circle death eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange. "The Dark Lord has no use for those who have failed him. We will deserve all that happens to us for failing the great and mighty Dark Lord!"

"Yes, yes, you will," growled Moody, who moved to bind Bellatrix even tighter. The Order all turned to look at Harry, who was the only reason they didn't have any casualties.

"Why…" Black asked, staring at Harry desperately. Harry's anger flared, and he gave up on not talking to them.

"That's the same type of attitude that led to all of you flinging me into Azkaban. You all seem to think that I'm capable of all those horrible things and acts of murder. I may hate you all, but I'm not a monster." Harry stated coldly.

Everyone flinched. They should have known-Harry had always been risking his life for friends and enemies alike. Black reached forward, his face twisted in grief. "Harry, I'm so, so –"

Harry walked past Black, ignoring him once more, and walked towards the little boy who had been crying during the battle and was now looking at his dead mother, not sure what was going on. Black made to go after him but stopped himself and just stood there, looking sadly, regretfully, and guiltily at Harry. Harry walked over to the little boy and squatted down in front of him. The child turned baleful eyes, red around the rims from crying, towards Harry.

"What's wrong with mummy? She won't get up."

Harry looked at the boy sadly. "My name's Harry; what's yours?"

"Jake," the boy sniffed.

"And how old are you, Jack?"

"Five."

Harry sighed. How did you explain death to a child? "Your mommy's gone, Jake."

"Gone?"

"Yes, those bad men took her away."

"Can we get her back?" Jake asked, panicked and hopeful.

"No, she's gone; but she's in a nicer place now, a place where the bad men can't hurt her. But you'll be able to see her again someday." Harry said.

"Why can't I see her now?"

Harry sighed. "You just can't right now, no matter how much you want to. Believe me; I know."

Jake's eyes filled up with tears, and he glared accusingly at Harry to try to cover them up. 'How do you know that?" Jake asked as harshly as he could, but Harry knew better. He was just trying desperately to prove that it wasn't true, that his world wasn't shifting and falling apart around him.

"My mum's gone too."

Jake instantly looked completely abashed. "I'm sorry," he murmured, eyes downcast. "Did the bad men take her away too?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, they did. I was actually quite a bit younger than you when they did."

"Do you miss her?" Jake asked innocently.

Harry smiled softly. "Yes, I do. And I'm going to go ahead and tell you this; people will tell you it's going to get better, but it won't. You'll always miss and love here, but it's the trick of remembering her that makes you feel better. It may get easier with time, but there will always be days when you'll remember her; and you'll miss her, and it's going to hurt. Just keep in mind that she wouldn't want you to spend your life hung up on her, would she?"

"No," Jake answered quietly.

"She would want you to live your life and remember her. I know this because every mother wants the best for their child." 'Maybe not their nephew, though,' Harry added silently before going on. "Loot at me; I turned out fine, and I've lived without her for around twenty years. You need to be strong for your dad, but you don't need to be strong all the time. Sometimes, you're just going to need to let it out; and that's okay. You just need to find someone who can help you let it out." 'That sure would have done me a lot of good,' Harry thought silently.

At this, Jake finally broke down and launched himself into Harry's arms, sobbing quietly. After a while, Jake pulled away and looked at Harry, wiping his eyes on Harry's sleeve. "Did your daddy tell you that?"

Harry's smile saddened. "No, the bad men took him too."

Jake instantly looked upset again. He ran over to his distraught but calm-looking father, who was just getting up from a stretcher after being healed, and dragged him all the way over to Harry. "Daddy, Daddy, he says that he hasn't got a mum anymore either. And he doesn't have a daddy. Can you be his daddy?"

The poor boy's father looked completely flustered and rather unsure of what to do. His confusion and embarrassment grew when he caught sight of Harry's scar, and he blushed. Harry just laughed. In the background, the Order looked rather stunned, as if they still didn't seem to think he was capable of laughing anymore. Jake looked confused as to why Harry was laughing.

"Jake, I'm a little old for your dad to be my dad; but you know what you can do?" Harry knelt down again to look Jake in the eye. "You can be my friend. Can you do that?"

Jake looked thoughtful for a few seconds before enthusiastically exclaiming, "Yep!" He gave Harry another hug before going back over to his father. Harry stood up and smiled again, as the father spoke softly to Jake. "Jake, we need to go over to St. Mungo's, now. They want to check us over."

"Where are the rest of the villagers?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Dead" the man said flatly, despair in his eyes, pulling his son away towards a newly made portkey.

"Bye, Harry, see you later." Jake called before he disappeared.

"Bye, Jake," Harry grinned. Harry turned to go (again) and was stopped (again). "Why do people keep stopping me from leaving?" Harry exploded.

Lupin, the one who had grabbed Harry's arm, stopped in surprise. "H-" *glare* "Mr. Potter, how did you know about this attack? Were you in our headquarters?"

Harry mentally slapped himself on the forehead-werewolf sense of smell! And he'd even been stupid enough to bleed on a freaking cup! Outwardly, Harry looked completely calm and asked confusedly, "Why would being in your headquarters warn me about the attack? And for that matter, why on earth would I want to go there?"

Lupin appeared to be calm, even though Harry was sure he was becoming frustrated. "Your scent was all over the kitchen." The Order gasped in surprise.

"Well, then you got my scent confused with someone else's." Before Harry could stop him, Lupin leaned in close and smelled Harry deeply. "Hey! Personal bubble, Lupin!" Harry violently pushed Lupin away and began to try to get room to disapparate, but, by this time, the Order had surrounded him; and if he moved at all, he ended up touching someone. Great, now he couldn't apparate without taking someone with him.

"No, I didn't get you mixed up with someone else. You were at Headquarters." Lupin smiled in triumph.

Dumbledore looked at Harry sadly. "Please stop running, Harry. At least face us so that we can try to figure this out."

"I'm not running!" Harry yelled.

"Yes, you are; and you-"

"Ok," Harry interrupted. "So what if I am? I have good reason not to want to talk to you. You," he pointed at Dumbledore, "were my headmaster, and I believed in you; but you left me with abusive relatives for most of my life who treated me like dirt and almost convinced me that I was dirt. You," he pointed at male and female ex-best friends, "you were my best friends; but you were always fighting and only really supported me occasionally. You," he pointed to Lupin, "were my teacher, someone I looked up to and trusted. You," he pointed to the rest of the Weasleys, "I always saw as the family I'd never had. And you," he pointed at Black, who looked afraid to hear what Harry had to say, "were my godfather. My actual family, and one of my last ties to my parents. I trusted you most of all." He turned to speak to the whole Order. "I loved and cared about all of you in varying degrees, and you all completely betrayed my love and trust. How am I supposed to face you when you destroyed me so thoroughly?"

"H-Harry, please, I know what we did; and I can never be sorry enough for that, but I'm your godfather; and I-"

"Really?" Harry cut in coldly. "I was under the presumption that I no longer was your godson. 'You're no godson of mine,' remember?" Harry pushed past them, through the circle, and apparated away, not caring to look back as he did so.

Author's Note: Hi, how'd you like it? In case you were wondering about the last part, that's a quote from the first chapter? Review if you remembered it without having to look back, please, I'd like to know how many people did. Thank you so much for reading, thank you all my reviewers. You thought Harry was going back to Hogwarts, didn't you? Nope, not yet. I was actually planning for him to when this idea struck. Maybe next chapter. Or maybe not... Review! I don't just delete those or something; I read them all, so if you have anything to say, I will hear it.