Summary: He had been Dumbledore's Golden Boy. He was Gryffindor's heir. He was a Parstlemouth. He had been a Seeker, a Triwizard Champion, and a hero. And now, now that the Wizarding World was safe, he had no uses.
Warnings: HINTS OF PAST SLASH! ANGST! Some talk of Draco/Harry and also Severus/Harry.
Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will own Harry Potter or eth world he comes from. But I do and will continue to play with it. Lol.
In the end, he was condemned. Condemned to the Dementor's Kiss. Why? Because he was a murderer. Because Dumbledore was dead. Because Tom Riddle was dead. Because Severus Snape was dead. Because Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Molly Weasley, Cedric Diggory, and Vernon Dursley were all dead.
He had been Dumbledore's Golden Boy. He was Gryffindor's heir. He was a Parstlemouth. He had been a Seeker, a Triwizard Champion, and a hero. And now, now that the Wizarding World was safe, he had no uses.
But he was also one of the most powerful wizards since the Founders. More so than Dumbledore, more so than Voldemort. He could not be allowed to live. He was too dangerous, too unstable. To powerful.
So he was to die. He was to die in approximately thirty-one minutes.
He would not have any witnesses to stand for him. He would not have any one to mourn for him. In time, he would become a legend, a myth, a bedtime story told to children.
He wondered, would it be a nice story, one with a happy ending? Or would it be one that would warn children against being bad? Would he be a hero, or a villain?
Then he realized that in twenty three minutes it would no longer matter to him.
He closed his green eyes, once so vibrant like jade, but now dulled down, like wilting grass. His black hair, now to his shoulders and stringy, covered his face as he bent his head for a nap.
When he awoke, the guards were entering his cell. They were armed and ready for an attack, but he just stood slowly, and let them bind his hands. He followed them without a fight. Why fight? He wondered. It would only delay his dying.
The room with the Dementor was small, cold, and very, very bleak. He was led in, and then the guards left hurriedly, slamming a stone door shut behind them.
He looked around. And then he saw it; a window. A large window, looking into the horrible little room. The sun was shining through it. He could feel its warmth on his shoulders as he stood in the cell.
A Dementor floated in, and everything got colder and dimmer.
He looked at the floating, gray figure. He did not try to summon happy memories. He let the horrible images of his past flow over him like icy water.
Ron, laying on the chess board in First Year, looking dead.
Hermione, crying as the troll tried to kill her, and almost succeeded.
The Dementor was closer now. About a foot away. He stood tall. He wouldn't fall until it was over.
The next memories were even worse for him, and he would have cried, had he any tears left to shed.
Draco, turning away from him, walking to his father, and rolling up his sleeve. Showing him the Dark Mark. Showing him the sign of his betrayal.
Draco again, bloody and dead on the battle field.
Severus, calling his name as he fell to a curse.
Severus, rejecting him, again and again.
He took a shuddering breath. The Dementor was inches away now. IN a few seconds more, he would be dead.
Just before the Dementor Kissed him, he relived the most painful memories he had.
Severus Snape, his black hair mussed from sleeping and his eyes hard as obsidian, stared into vibrant green orbs, full of hope.
"Idiot boy. I'll never love you."
And with that, the Dementor Kissed him, and Harry James Potter fell, his soul gone from his body.
When the Dementor was gone and the guards came to collect him, he lay in the sunlight for the first time in a long, long time.
A/N I don't know why, but I just wanted to write a Harry in Azkaban piece. Well…what were your thoughts? And yes, I KNOW I have chapters to post…and I will! Eventually…