So this is an idea that I've been kicking around for awhile - light-hearted and fun. It's dedicated to my friend Oliver, who is my Ocean's 11 partner in crime, though we've never actually planned a casino heist. We did steal roses once...

The story belongs to Warner Brothers and the characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Enjoy...


The walk from his cell to the parole board's conference room is fairly short and he doesn't attempt conversation with the guard. If he thinks hard enough he'll remember that this is the man who asked whether or not Ginny was good in bed and at the time he remembers telling the guy to sod off, a response that was rewarded with a fast kick in the knees and a Billy club to the shoulders. No attempted conversation.

The guard seats him in a chair across from the three members of the parole board and he tries to remember the last time someone was paroled from this particular hell hole.

"Good morning," a woman to his left says and he nods. "Please state your name for the record."

"Harry Potter."

"We are here today to discuss the possibility of your parole from Azkaban."

There is the shuffling sound of papers and not much else. Behind him, someone – probably the guard – clears their throat and the noise echoes across the sparse room.

"It says here that while you were never formally charged, you have been implicated in over a dozen confidence jobs and schemes to defraud. Do you have anything to say to this?"

He has to stop himself from shrugging. "Well, as you say, ma'am, I was never charged."

"Can you tell us why this recent case was different, Mr. Potter?" This from a man to his right.

This time he does shrug. "My wife left me. I fell into a…destructive pattern."

"If released from Azkaban do you believe that you would fall into the same destructive pattern?"

He smiles very slightly. "She already left me once. I don't think she'd do it again, just for kicks."

The woman in the middle, a petite blond that he would find pretty under different circumstances, looks at him with a piercing stare. "Tell me, Mr. Potter, what do you plan to do if released from prison?"

He looks from her, to the woman on her right, to the man on her left, and back again. The truth is, he'll get the revenge he's been planning for the last four years. They don't need to know this, mostly because if he tells them they'll never let him out, so instead he smiles and gives them some bullshit line about remaining on the straight and narrow and rehabilitating himself of his wicked ways.

Thankfully for him, they buy it.

They stamp his probation papers and send him along to the checkout process. He gets his clothes back and his wedding ring and he walks out of Azkaban a free man with four years worth of beard growth, a wrinkled tuxedo, and the realization that his life isn't what he wished it to be before he got caught this time around.

Step one: get cleaned up and find a bar.

Step two: fix the broken stuff.

Should be easy enough…