He was tired. He had been flying for several hours now. He was hungry, sore, and filled with negative emotion.
He was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and, according to the rest of the world, the Dark Lord's apprentice. His absolutely bitter mood during the first half of his sixth year was apparently enough for his friends to turn from him. It was enough for the Daily Prophet to feed on and produce lie after lie that the public devoured. The Minister, in order to appease the people, had sent out the arrest personally and a couple of his devoted, corrupted Aurors had come to take him away. He had turned to his friends for support, but they had ignored him. Dumbledore looked at him disappointedly before turning away. He had no one there to stand on his side.
They had actually used Verseritum. Unfortunately, the first and only question they had asked was 'Have you ever cast an Unforgivable?'
With his positive answer, they simply chucked him in Azkaban.
The first few weeks were absolute torture. He could not keep down the gruel that they provided. The only sustenance he could manage was water. On duty Aurors mocked him and Dementors found instant delight feeding on his pain. He couldn't see, as glasses were unnecessary for a prisoner. He didn't know where his wand was, he presumed Dumbledore had it or it was snapped.
His only visitors were Fred and George Weasley.
"Harry? Mate?" One of the twins standing outside his cell inquired. The other stood beside him, his hands resting on the bars.
Harry squinted up at the bars, he hadn't even heard them approaching, he was so disconnected from the world around him. He had been put at the empty end of a row, as if the other prisoners could see him they would cause a ruckus that the Aurors and Dementors couldn't calm.
"Who?" Harry whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Fred-"
"-and George." They waited and were rewarded when Harry shuffled his way into the light.
"Mate you look awful!"
Harry sent a flat look in their general direction. "Thanks."
The twins chuckled. "We don't got long-"
"-but we came to tell you we don't believe that you've gone dark."
"Evil." Harry corrected absently, "I have gotten darker."
The twins exchanged a look. "We can't really tell you what Hermione, Ron, Mum, Dad, and Ginny feel like-"
"-As we're not on speaking terms with them, but we can tell you that-"
"-Bill, Charlie, Tonks, Remus, and Mad-eye all stand with us."
A pair of tears trickled down Harry's face as he smiled bitterly. "If I ever escaped where should I go?"
The twins frowned. "Not Hogwarts."
"Or Headquarters."
"But mate, escapeing from Azkaban is-"
"-impossible. I know Sirius Black did, but you're not an animagus."
Harry smirked and chuckled. "I know it's impossible. But so is a twelve-year old taking out a sixty foot basilisk."
"What!"
"You took out a basilisk!"
Harry nodded. He then grinned suddenly. "I never told you, did I? What I found out about the Marauders."
"No, you didn't-"
"-do tell, please!"
"Scabbers, filthy traitorous rat, was Wormtail."
"Scabbers? He's a garden rat!"
"Wait, what happened to him anyways? I haven't seen him in a while."
"Gone back to Voldemort. He's an illegal animagus, all the Marauders were. His name's Peter Pettigrew."
"A Marauder a Death Eater?"
"But Peter's dead!"
"Faked his death, but that's enough about Wormtail. I guess Moony's not really an animagus, he's a werewolf. Prongs was a stag and Padfoot was a big black shaggy dog that we called 'Snuffles'."
"A werewolf?"
"Snuffles?"
"Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Sirius Black. Also known as Messer's Moony, Prongs, and Padfoot."
"Snuffles?"
Harry had spent a couple more minutes just talking about his adventures, mainly the stuff that had terrified him as the happier stuff just didn't come to mind. The twins had been impressed anyways but halfway through describing how he felt when trying to get past the Hungarian Horntail, a pissed off Auror told them their time was up.
The twins had departed reluctantly and, as soon as they were out of the hallway, the row was filled with Dementors, reducing Harry to a quivering heap.
-
As his thoughts had been on the Horntail when the Dementors showed up, those were the memories that were brought up to be twisted beyond reality.
After all, what else would explain him turning into a dragon and torching the nearest Dementors with emerald green flame?
A/N: I realize I've got others to update, but this one wouldn't leave me alone. More soon as the next part was written before this one. See you!