Rising from the Ashes of Betrayal
Chapter One: A New Beginning
It was finally over. The war had ended. Voldemort was dead.
I gazed over the blood spilt battle ground. Every so often a body, some young, some old.
In the distance I can hear my so called friends screaming my name. I refuse to turn to them. They're calling me again, this time to join them in the celebrations.
Like I would join them, the traitors.
They call my name as if they never betrayed me. As if they never sent me to hell on earth, to be guarded by my worst fear. Azkaban.
I can still remember the day they condemned me to hell, it is as if the memory was carved into my mind…
"Harry James Potter, you are here-by sentenced to Azkaban. As you are a minor we cannot sentence you to the Dementor's kiss until your 18th birthday!"
"WAIT! I'M INNOCENT! Don't I get the chance to trial under veritasurem at-least?"
"…fine…someone administer the potion." My face was pulled upward and I felt the potion trickle slowly down. My mind started to go hazy; I could hear them questioning me.
"Are you Harry James Potter?"
"Did you kill Ginerva Weasley and Rubeus Hagrid?"
"HE'S LYING, THE BASTARD!" came the angry voice of who I recognized as Ron.
"How can he be? We gave him the limit of three drops. He can't be lying."
"He is lying. He can probably throw of the effects of the veritaserum," Hermione's words were laced with contempt and malice.
"That's not possible, he's only 16, not even he could be immune to the truth serum."
"He can already throw off the imperious curse, isn't that proof enough?"
"Well in that case," came the minister's voice, "we can't let ourselves be fooled. I ask the jury. All in favor of imprisonment till the age of 18 in which he will be administered the Dementor's kiss?" All of the occupants of the right side of the room raised their hands. That had sealed my fate. I was no longer the boy-who-lived but the boy-who-killed.
I was dragged into my cell and thrown in. An hour later I could feel the Dementor's coming near me. I scrambled away from them to the far end of my cell. The voices of my parents and Cedric echoed in my mind. They were screaming, and my mother was begging Voldemort to kill her instead over and over again in my tormented mind.
Azkaban was my home for just over three years. The Dementors had left to serve Voldemort a year and a half after my trial. The Ministry didn't want us prisoners to get off lightly, so they created a spell that would replicate the effects of a Dementor. I had no animagus form to protect me and my occlumency shields were weak. But as the prophecy stated, I had the power that the dark lord knew not. I trained in my cell. Wandless magic become second nature to me and my occlumency skill heightened.
My connection with Voldemort grew over my imprisonment; I saw every attack being planned months in advance and felt every Cruciatus curse that Voldemort made his victims suffer through. Though the connection, also, had its benefits.
I had every spell, curse, ritual and potion, dark or light, at my disposal. I could see Voldemort's strategies. I dare-say I knew him better than he knew himself.
Voldemort and his Death Eaters attacked Azkaban; Voldemort was obviously expecting me to be bitter enough to kill Albus Dumbledore as he didn't bother much with me. He revealed his plan to frame me to the 'Light'; needless to say they were ashamed. I took the opportunity of Voldemort's obvious neglect of me to take him by surprise. I called the sword of Gryffindor to my hand and proceeded to leak all my magic into the blade as I swung it at Voldemort's head.
"Incendio," I had cried hoarsely, Voldemort and his wand were reduced to ash.
"HARRY!" My ex-best friends are still calling my name. The Order of the Phoenix were behind them; looking guilty as hell.
I turn to face them just so I could say good riddance and apparated away.
I landed inside my family vault in Gringotts. After emptying the contents of the vault and picking up my old school trunk and wand from the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts (looks like you can apparate in Hogwart's grounds). I apparated to America with the intention and hope of never having to return to England again. With a flick of my hand my hair colour changed to a light brown and my eyes to hazel.
From this day forth Harry James Potter was no more.
Author's Notes: This is my very first fanfiction piece and all reviews are welcome. This chapter originally was a song fic with Linkin Park's Numb but due to recent new regulations I have taken the song out. Special thanks to my reviewer Quillian who brought this problem to my attention