A/N: So, I do still exist, and I am still writing. I really apologize for the lateness of this chapter; real life and writer's block got in the way. I've also been working on a Hunger Games one-shot with SamieB, and I'm hoping to finish that soon. Not to mention an abandoned plot bunny found me again (Curse you Tom Riddle). Regardless, I'm going to try and make sure there is no more four week gap between chapters...you know, like this one.

This chapter was difficult to write, and certain characters may be slightly OOC, but the reason for that will be explained later on. I'm sorry that you won't get many answered, but again, they should be coming. Also, there will be no slashin this story, but other than that, anything is fair game. If you have any requests/suggestions, let me know.

Finally, I would like to thank, once again, everyone who has favorite/followed/reviewed this story. It's absolutely amazing. I know I've been horrible about replying to reviews, and I would like to thank everyone who reviewed the third prologue. It means so much to me!

Disclaimer: I, mischiefmanaged0116, do solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter and Co., nor do I own the Avengers.

Chapter One: Free at Last

It was six months, give or take a few days, after Harry Potter entered Azkaban when he was finally allowed to leave it. Plastered across all newspapers and magazines were headlines declaring The-Boy-Who-Lived was innocent, framed for a crime he didn't commit just like his poor godfather. People were out for blood; their Savior had been wronged, and someone had to pay for it. The Ministry and Dumbledore were plagued by owls demanding why and how this could have happened.

While the Ministry and Dumbledore were busy making up feeble defenses in order to save face, Harry was stepping off the Azkaban boat onto the mainland. It was only Sirius' arm around his waist, guiding his movements, that prevented Harry from falling off the dock and into the cold water. Even with his godfather supporting almost all his weight, it was still difficult to put one foot in front of the other.

'What a sight we must make,' Harry thought to himself as he looked at the ground. 'A protective guardian, trying to hide his own demons and support his godson, and the Savior, exhausted, trembling, and green eyes, once so full of life, now haunted.'

He actually wouldn't be surprised if that was what the Daily Prophet said about tomorrow, give or take a few words. After being the center of the media frenzy for years, it was simple to predict the headlines. What wasn't simple though, was predicting whether or not the public thought you were trying to defend or destroy.

"I bet you didn't miss the adoring fan-club while you were in Azkaban, did you?" Sirius asked in what Harry thought was a pitiful attempt at being lighthearted. He raised his eyebrow at his godfather, and the older man winced. "That was pretty bad, wasn't it?"

Harry gave his godfather a look that hopefully conveyed his unspoken 'you don't say.' Talking used too much energy, and he really didn't have any to spare. Sirius didn't respond, although Harry wasn't sure if it was because he had nothing to say or if he was just lost in thought, so Harry returned to watching his feet drag on in front of him. Left, right, left, right, left...

Finally, the two wizards reached the end of the long wooden dock. Harry almost wanted to sigh in relief. Only a little longer until they would reach the portkey site, and then the two of them would be on their way home...but would it still be home with so many people gone, with others taking their places? Was it still home even as he was planning to escape into the muggle world?

"Harry, what do you have to say about your imprisonment?"

"What are your feelings towards Minister Shacklebolt? The Wizengamot? Dumbledore? Wizarding Britain?"

"Just ignore them, kiddo." Sirius whispered into Harry's ear. So that's what Harry did. He kept looking towards the ground, watching his feet. Right, left, right, left, right...

It was actually quite easy to ignore the obnoxious reporters, who had been drawn to the Azkaban docking area like vultures to their prey, and just continue walking, matching his every step to Sirius'. They were three-quarters of the way to the portkey site when it happened.

There were cameras flashing, photographers wanting pictures of the Wronged Savior.

Everywhere Harry looked, he saw spells flashing through the air. The battle had been raging on for hours, and the constant spell-fire was the only thing lighting up the otherwise dark sky. As he wove through curses, Harry could only hope that this battle would end in victory for the Order. If it didn't...Voldemort would win, ruling over Muggles and Wizards alike.

Sirius was whispering something in Harry's ear, but he didn't hear what his godfather was saying, too lost in the memory to notice anything.

He passed Neville, Ron, and Hermione fighting Dolohov and two of the Lestranges. Harry wished he could stop and help them, but he was on a mission; he needed to find Voldemort, and kill him. As he continued walking across Hogwarts grounds, he fingered the knives hanging from his belt. Gryffindor's sword was strapped on his back, and his holly and phoenix wand was in the holster on his wrist. He was ready as he would ever be.

He didn't know what to do, how to break out of this memory, he had seen it in Azkaban too many times but the outcome never changed, and that was the worst part. Watching and hoping and praying and screaming until his throat was raw but the same people still got hurt, or betrayed him, or died.

"Shadow, look out!" Someone called from behind him, although he wasn't sure who. Harry turned around, only to see a curse speeding towards him...but it never made impact. Remus, who had started to run towards Harry before the spell was cast, slammed into the sixteen-year-old wizard, pushing Harry out of the curse's path. He could only watch in horror as Remus fell to his knees, clutching his stomach as his white shirt slowly stained red with a substance that could only be blood. The werewolf raised his wand arm, only to be hit in the stomach with a spell with a silvery light. He rolled onto his back, still except for the slight movement of his chest.

And he wasn't breathing and the edges of his vision were going black and he knew he needed to calm down but he didn't know how and that had always been his problem and he wished it would just stop now that he was out of Azkaban but he knew that wouldn't happen so he needed to just find a way to calm down.

"NO! REMUS!" Harry screamed, throwing a knife at the Death Eater's chest, barely paying attention as the blade hit it's target-

"Harry, kiddo, you're safe now. We're back at Grimmauld." Sirius said soothingly. "It's only the two of us." Harry's felt a bit of shock at the fact that he hadn't even realized that they had portkeyed, but the recent flashback was still weighing on him, so it was to be expected. He felt detached from everything; it was as if he was seeing everything from someone else's body. Harry only realized he was crying and shaking when Sirius wrapped him up in a hug.

"It's going to be okay, Harry. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it will."

You think they care about you, Potter? You think you actually mean something to them?

Poor, naive little Potter, thinking there are people who actually love him.

You're merely a tool to them. Once you've done what they want, they'll dispose of you permanently.

They're not going to come for you; you will die in this cold, dark, damp cell, at the hands of your worst nightmare.

No one cares.

You are nothing to them. And you never will be.

"Harry!"

Harry's eyes snapped open, vaguely registering a dark, blurry shape by his bedside. By the incomprehensible murmurs he could hear over the sound of heavy breathing and blood rushing in his ears, Harry discerned that it had to be Sirius trying to calm him down.

"Hey, its going to be alright kiddo." Harry heard Sirius say, through the haze that seemed to invading his mind, like the low fog that invades London. They sent a sharp jolt of pain through him; nothing would ever be okay again, how could it, when so many were dead. Remus. Harry felt his eyes well up with tears at the reminder that the werewolf was gone, and quickly rolled over to face the wall. He remembered breaking down leaving Azkaban, unclear though it may be, and was ashamed of his outburst.

Why had he broken down like that? It had just been a camera flash, so why had he found himself whisked into his memories, breaking down into a hysterical, sobbing puddle. He needed to get a grip; six months ago, he had been able to hide his emotions so thoroughly, that almost no one had been able to see through his emotions. Had Azkaban made him that weak, that all of his training was lost and he was a mentally unstable mess?

"You aren't weak, Harry." Sirius said softly, and Harry could imagine the look on his face; grey eyes filled with sadness and concern, along with the haunted darkness that could only be found in Azkaban prisoners, but no weakness present. He didn't respond to the statement though, as he found he had nothing to say. Sirius thought he was strong, but he was wrong. The strength had always been a facade, it was only what was expected of The-Boy-Who-Lived. Now, even that was gone, and he felt raw and exposed, insecure when it came to his newly visible weakness. Harry was weak, and he knew it.

"When I got out of Azkaban, the first time I saw the sun rise, I started crying. I had seen numerous people killed and hurt before my eyes, and hadn't shed tears over many of them, but that one thing made me bawl my eyes out. The whole time I was looking for Peter, I was haunted by nightmares, the simplest thing sending me into a flashback of Azkaban. Being at Hogwarts helped, but I was slowly going mad because the memories were still there, and they were fresh, but I had no one to talk to. Finding you and Remus helped, as did both of your letters, but it still didn't go away. Every shadow still made me jump, and I shook in the cold, curled up in a ball, or as Padfoot, hoping that I could make the memories disappear. Remus took one look at me after the third task, and made me talk, about anything and everything that was bothering me. We barely slept for several days, until I had gotten it all out. Even then, I still had nightmares, and there is still an extra bed in my room, even now, that he would sleep in if I didn't want to be alone. After a nightmare, he'd sit with me, and just be there. Even that didn't stop them though...the nightmares continued. They still continue."

Harry slowly rolled back over to face his godfather and he caught a glimpse of the man. He was turned away from Harry slightly, and his eyes were glazed over. It was the appearance of a man lost in memories. "You-you do?" Harry rasped out, voice hoarse as he spoke for the first time in several weeks. Sirius' head snapped towards him, and Harry didn't miss the look of surprise in his eyes, although he wasn't sure if it was due to his question, or the fact he had spoken at all.

"Still have nightmares? Yeah, I do." Sirius said softly. "And I think I always will. Azkaban is a horrible place, and it screws with your mind. There's no shame in accepting that. I still have the majority of my sanity, though, and that's what matters."

"I guess so..." Harry said quietly. He wasn't sure how true that was, for him at least. How could he still be sane when he could hear screams in the back of his head?

The screams of the dying.

"Why don't you go take a nice, hot shower, and then come downstairs? Everyone's missed you." Sirius said after what Harry thought was a few minutes. "If you're feeling up to it, that is."

Harry wasn't, but despite what Sirius had said, he still didn't want to seem weak. So he nodded.

It was over an hour later when Harry finally emerged from the bathroom and descended the stairs leading to the kitchen. He had forgotten how nice a hot shower was...after six months of having a bucket of cold water dumped on him every three days, even warm water would have been gratifying. Harry had never realized how nice his life had become after starting Hogwarts; he hadn't had a cold pail of water dumped on his head since before he found out he was a wizard.

As Harry finally reached the kitchen, he stopped and stood at the closed door for a moment. He could hear voices inside whispering feverishly, as if their lives depended on it. Someone, Harry thought it might have been Neville, was slowly getting louder and louder, until Harry could finally hear what he was saying.

"The sooner we can leave, the better. You know it isn't safe for him-" Neville said in what Harry thought was mixture of impatience and incredulousness, before being cut off by Draco. The blonde's response was too quiet for Harry to hear, so he slowly eased open the kitchen door slightly and continued listening.

"-a matter of safety, it's a matter of his well-being-" Draco argued, and Harry felt a flash of irritation that they weren't including him in the conversation, but it vanished when he heard the twins' comment.

"What good will his well-being be-"

"-If being in England ends up killing him anyway." Ah, so that was why he wasn't being included in their argument. They probably thought it wouldn't be good for his mental health.

"If you think he is leaving this house before he is ready," Sirius whispered darkly, and Harry recognized that as his cue to step in before wands were drawn.

"Your observational skills are severely lacking as opposed to six months ago." Harry said quietly as he opened the door the rest of the way and surveyed the people sitting at the table. A few of them had actually jumped when they realized he was there. Shaking his head, Harry moved to the head of the table and sat down silently.

"How long were you standing there, Shadow?" Draco asked with a grimace. Harry smirked slightly. Draco always had hated being outdone by a Gryffindor, and it seemed that hadn't changed in the last six months.

"Since Griffin said we should leave as soon as possible. He even opened the door." Luna said in her typical dreamy voice. Harry took a moment to observe the looks on everyone's faces. Draco and Neville winced at the fact they hadn't heard the door open, the twins looked sheepish (most likely because of their outburst), Sirius looked ashamed, Snape looked shocked, and someone, who Harry presumed had to be Dr. Bruce Banner just looked amused.

"I'm assuming you knew I was there as well, Dr. Banner?" Harry asked with a slightly raised eyebrow, attempting to ignore the similarities this conversation had with many others, instead choosing to focus in on the differences. The man smiled lightly.

"Call me Bruce, and yes. The, ah, other guy alerted me to your presence." Harry cocked his head to the side slightly at the concealed bitterness in the man's voice...it reminded him of someone. It had been in this kitchen when he first heard it...Harry inhaled sharply. Remus. It had been Remus.

"Stupid, irritating, immature bigots." Harry muttered under his breath quietly as he poured a glass of water. "Can't mind their own business."

"Why do I doubt you're talking about the Ministry?" Harry whirled around to see Remus standing in the doorway, giving him a sad, understanding smile. Harry just stared.

"How did you hear that?" He asked in shock. There was no way anyone could have heard that; not only had Harry been speaking quietly, but he had also been pouring water. He could barely hear himself.

Remus' smile faltered slightly, and he gave a short humorless laugh. "Oh, should that have been incomprehensible to me?" Harry just nodded wordlessly. "Why am I surprised?"

"What...what do you mean?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the left slightly. Remus sighed.

"Lycanthropy heightens all of my senses, even when it isn't the full moon. So what you said before, about bigots? That sounded like just below a normal voice level to me. Comes in handy on occasion, I guess." Remus said neutrally, but Harry could hear the slight bitterness. Yeah, it might come in handy sometimes, but other times, it was overwhelming. Harry wondered how Remus could have ever taught at Hogwarts with it being so loud there.

"No, I wasn't talking about the Ministry." Harry said finally, and was rewarded with a small smile from Remus. "It's Ron and Hermione, they-"

"I thought with you knowing Remus, this wouldn't bother you..." Bruce said in a slightly self-deprecating way. Harry pushed back the last of his flashback to notice the whole room looking at with shocked expressions. "Should've known better."

"Huh?" Harry asked, confused.

"If the other guy bothers you so much-" The bitter tone was back, and Harry couldn't help himself; he winced.

"I don't understand what you mean." Harry said again, trying to keep a calm tone.

"You've winced every time I've mentioned the other guy. If it bothers you..."

"Just stay calm, Bruce." Sirius said softly, giving Harry a confused yet warning look.

"I...the other guy doesn't bother me at all." Harry said slowly. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Then why do you keep cringing?" The tone was not unkind, and Harry vaguely remembered that he had undergone some kind of personality transplant or something. He was merely asking a question.

"I..." Harry trailed off in thought. "What?"

"After Bruce mentioned the other guy could tell you were there, you made a noise, and after he said he thought you would accept the other guy, you winced." Draco supplied helpfully. Harry would've shot him a glare, but he had realized what they meant, and was filled with shame.

"I...that...it wasn't because of the other guy." Harry said softly. He didn't want to say that it was because it reminded him of Remus, but he did owe Bruce an explanation. "The way you said that it...it reminded me of Remus." His voice caught in his throat.

Bruce's expression, previously impassive, suddenly lit with understanding, and Harry had to look away. The scientist coughed awkwardly. "I, ah, apologize for jumping to conclusions."

"It's fine." Harry said automatically, but when he saw the looks of disbelief, he rolled his eyes. "I accept your apology, Bruce. It's not your fault that I'm living in the past lately."

"Still, I do apologize."

Harry just nodded, and, noticing the awkward atmosphere, changed the subject. "So, what argument did I have the pleasure of interrupting?" Everyone looked at each other, and then as one, turned to look at Sirius, who groaned.

"Must I?" Everyone just continued to stare. "Okay, okay, fine. Harry, do you still want to leave Britain?"

"Yes." He said without hesitation. He loved England; really, he did, but he didn't feel safe anymore, and the good memories were overshadowed by the bad.

"Alright, well the argument was about when we should leave...should we go right away, or wait for you to recover more?"

"I want to leave as soon as possible. How about the end of this month?" Harry answered quickly. Sirius stared at him.

"That's in about 10 days, Harry."

"I know. Please? I can recover just as well somewhere else, and I've obviously retained most of my mental capability." Harry looked at his team, and saw only a steady resolve in all of their eyes. Bruce seemed to be in agreement, and Severus was nodding grudgingly. Finally, he looked at his godfather, and saw a reluctant acceptance.

"Fine. Let's get to work, everyone."

"Alright, let's make sure we've got everything." Sirius said as they all collapsed at the table.

"Is everyone packed?" Harry said exhaustedly. Everyone except for Snape...Severus, his name was Severus now, nodded. Severus was going to stay behind, as he had to finish his teaching contract. "Good."

"Have you notified your families you're leaving the country?" Bruce asked.

"Our family hates us." Fred and George said in unison.

"I'll second that." Draco smirked.

"Daddy hasn't been the same since the Death Eaters attacked. I think he has a wrackspurt infestation." Luna said sadly.

"Mum and Dad have been insane for years, and Gran's on her way there." Neville shrugged. "This has been my real family for over a year."

"I'll second that." Fred, George, Luna, Harry, and Draco agreed, and then started laughing.

"Alright..." Sirius skimmed the list. "You have the plane tickets, right Bruce?"

"Yes, Sirius. You've only asked me eighteen times in the last two days."

"Well, it looks like the only thing we have left is to come up with a cover story." Harry said, reading the list over Sirius' shoulder.

"I doubt that's the only thing...but it is the most important. I bought all of the tickets under my name, but we will need passports and whatnot." Bruce corrected.

"And we have to finish the passports tonight because our flight leaves early tomorrow." Sirius added.

"It's not like we're going to sleep anyway, Sirius." Harry said flippantly, only to be glared at. "Fine, fine, moving on."

"Alright, Weasleys, what've you got?"

"We are now Alec and Jack Marter." Fred started.

"We went to school with this lot," George gestured to the rest of EST Omega, "and our sister dated whoever Harry decides to be, and when they had a messy break-up, we decided we agreed with him and stuck with his family."

"Good one." Bruce nodded. "Neville?"

"I'm Griffin Smith...figured it would be easy for everyone to remember. I'm an orphan, and my dad was a friend of Bruce's. He's been my guardian for the last three months."

"Not half-bad." Severus said as he got some pumpkin juice for everyone. "Draco?"

"Luna and I are siblings, Drake and Selena Black. Our parents disowned us when we refused to join a terrorist group, and we were adopted by our Uncle-"

"Ryan Black. I was also disowned for not joining the terrorist group as a teen, and moved in with a friend until I got on my feet. When my niece and nephew came to me, I of course took them in, and ended up leaving the country eventually. When we did, we went to Bruce, who I became friends with after secondary school when I was living in Canada." Sirius continued. Everyone nodded. "That just leaves Harry."

"Well, I'm going to be a Black...it would explain our relationship. I'm assuming you've been planning these identities for a while...?"

"Yeah. We have, and we figured you'd want to be a Black." Draco grinned. "We were right."

"I think you should be Jamie Black." Luna said suddenly. Harry turned to look at her. She smiled serenely. "This way you don't have to give up your whole identity. James can be shortened to Jamie."

"I...I think I like that." Harry said with a hesitant smile. "Now how do I fit into the dysfunctional Black family?"

"You could be Draco and Luna's brother." Neville suggested. "I mean, Drake and Selena's brother."

"We don't look anything alike." Draco countered.

"Neither did your mum and Bellatrix." Fred pointed out.

"We're trying to stay low-key though...one child who doesn't look like the other two? That doesn't work very well." Severus pointed out. "The best idea would be for Harry to be Sirius' son."

Harry thought about it. They did look alike to a certain degree: black hair, similar bone structure, and thin frame. James and Sirius had looked like brothers, so it was no surprise to Harry that he could pass as Sirius' son. He didn't mind either; Sirius had been the only thing resembling a dad that Harry had ever had, and if Harry was being honest, he had considered Sirius his 'dad' for a while now.

"I'm Jamie Black, son of Ryan Black." Harry said, sounding it out. Sirius looked at him, concerned.

"Harry-"

"It's okay, I like it...Dad."

"If you don't want to call me Dad, we can figure something out or-"

"Calling you Dad isn't that big of a deal to me. You've been my dad in every way that counts for years now."