Title: Signore Delle Ombre
Author: The-Writer-Formerly-Known-As
Summary: The Summer before sixth year, Harry finds himself abandoned by those that call themselves the light. Sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, he is forced to explore his growing and unusual powers, make new alliances, and form a new inner circle with those whose loyalties did not waver- although they are few, far between, and those that Harry would not have turned to before. Let the Battle Begin.
Character Types: Betrayed! Superpowered! Harry, Evil! Dumbledore, Stupid! Blind! Order of the Chicken, various others you will have to find throughout
SHIPs: TBD, most likely no slash
Disclaimer: I'm putting up a disclaimer. Now what does that say to you? That maybe I don't own it, hmmm?
A/N: Happy Ides of March! Apologies for taking so long… this chapter really was a bear to get out. Enjoy it! Review it! The next one is being written… now…
Reveal not every secret you have to a friend, for how can you tell but that friend may hereafter become an enemy. And bring not all mischief you are able to upon an enemy, for he may one day become your friend.
-Saadi Persian poet (1184 - 1291)
Chapter Six: Transitioning
Susan was in shock. She stared down at her slightly off-white phial of potion, then at her book. Then down at her potion, again. She reached for another ladle of the potion from her cauldron, put it in a bowl, pricked her finger and watched the blood slowly drip off her finger. One drop, two drops, three drops, four. The potion in the bowl turned the same off-white color as the one in the phial. She glanced up in bewilderment.
Neville Longbottom, his own potion an earthy green color, stared around the room calmly, taking in reactions. He was the only one. Blaise Zabini was attempting to maintain his Slytherin mask, but his tightly clenched fists showed his agitation. Lisa Turpin and Padma Patil sat, heads together, whispering furiously to themselves and flipping through old potions books to check the potion, its function, and the possible results for it. Susan, felt no need to check any more books than the one that sat in front of her. She knew what the color of her- and her classmate's- potion meant.
They had, at some time in the past, been obliviated… and the block was still in place. That fact in itself wouldn't have been disturbing. Some families did use obliviation on their children when a child witnessed events that they were not supposed to be seen or were traumatic to the child. However, the potion was merely off-white.
The principle behind the potion was simple. The more yellow the potion was, the longer a time since a memory had been tampered with. The scale ranged from pure white, which meant that the brewer had been obliviated right before making the potion, to an almost brown yellow, which meant that it had been at least twenty years since the brewer had been obliviated. If the brewer's mind had never been tampered with, the potion would be black. And if the brewer's mind had been tampered with, but the memory had been restored to its original form, the potion would be green.
Looking back out across the classroom, and, in particular, Neville's green potion, Susan suddenly realized what she had been wondering since she had been approached by Neville about a class involving the use of NEWT Herbology and NEWT Potions.
She raised a hand, looking directly at her Potions Professor, who gazed coolly back, onyx eyes unreadable. "Professor Snape, sir? What do we do now?"
"Are you sure they won't be a liability, Albus?" Alastor Moody asked gruffly. "I don't want a bunch of potential Deatheater supporters outside of our current target area."
"I know what I am doing, Alastor." Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, leader of the light, sat calmly in his chair, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he strove to separate two lemon drops from each other. "None of them will ever remember- not only did I obliviate them, but I tied a charm that encourages them to come back to the light. They will not remember their doubts, because Potter is dark, and they will not support anything that is dark."
"Are you positive?" The retired Auror intently leaned forward. "Most of them are currently in the same room together, for Merlin's Sake!"
"Yes, I'm positive." Suddenly, the lemon drops were pulled apart, and the Headmaster gave a satisfied smile. "It's just a class for NEWT Potions, involving Herbology. I've been checking up on the Potions they've been making. The Hospital Wing is almost completely stocked for the coming school year."
Moody gave a small sigh, abruptly leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, his magical eye rolling occasionally in its socket. "You do know people in the Order are having doubts, now?"
"Doubts? About what?"
"About the wisdom of obliviating some of our members, and the teenagers."
"It had to be done. They had been corrupted, and they didn't even know it. We were merely removing the tumor that is the dark before it could overwhelm and consume them. It's Potter's fault."
"I know, Albus, I know. Damned Potter."
"If only he had stayed the boy he once was…" The Headmaster let out a sigh, although it was hard to tell if it was of regret or contentment, since a moment before he had slipped a lemon drop into his mouth.
"Was he ever that boy?" The wary Auror asked, and then stood up to signal the end of the conversation. "I must be going now, old friend. The Ministry wants me to consult on a case."
"Go ahead, Alastor. Stop by soon."
"Miss Bones, I am a Master of Occlumency. I can, if you wish, break your memory block- and restore the original method." The Potions Master said gently. The others in the group were gathered around in a half circle, expressions of shock wearing off their faces, to be replaced by a look of stony resolve.
"Will it hurt?" Susan asked softly.
"It might." Susan looked around the room solemnly. Everyone else was watching to see what actions she would take. At that moment, she knew whatever action she took could determine the course of the rest of her life. She glanced quickly at Neville, steeled herself, took a deep breath, and nodded.
"Do it."
Snape pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. Susan squeezed her eyes shut. "Legilimens!" The Potions Master breathed.
Molly Weasley frowned at the goblin before her. "Look- Potter is in Azkaban. He's a criminal. The Ministry has ruled that my family gets his money, because we suffered the most under his dark influences."
"I am sorry, mam, but Gringotts does not recognize orders from the Ministry- we are an independent organization authorized to operate in England under the Azkabanian treatise of 1066. The only way we will relinquish Mr. Potter's money is upon proof of his death, at which point we shall disperse his money as directed by his will." The goblin stated, a disgusted look upon his face at having to deal with the red-faced, loud-mouthed woman.
"Nonsense!" Molly sputtered. "You cannot do this, goblin! The Minister himself shall hear of this… this outrage! Your rebellion shall not be tolerated!" With one final glare, she spun around and stormed out of the building.
Griphood blinked calmly, then he, too, spun to walk, although he was headed further back into the vaults of Gringotts, a small smirk playing upon his lips. He immediately headed for his direct superior's office.
With a bow to the goblin in the sole chair in the office, he spoke. "The Weasley woman is gone, now, but she has threatened to come back with Ministry workers to force us to give up the vaults belonging to Harry Potter. What do we do now?"
"Easy, my son," the soft but confident voice of the Head of the London Gringotts banks replied. "Gather together all our human employees. It's time to see where their loyalties lie."
The younger goblin paused. "You mean…"
"Yes." The elder said firmly. "Inform all of our kind to be in readiness to close the doors of this bank to the Wizarding world, if need be."
"Headmaster." Susan looked at the woman who had spoken. She had stood up from a chair near where Susan's classmate, Gryffindor Neville Longbottom, sat. In one hand she held the transcripts from Harry Potter's interegation, which Susan, herself, has also been reading. The woman was in her early twenties, with pink hair and a heart-shaped face that would have been considered pretty if not for the frown marring her face. "No where in these transcripts does Harry actually say that he is a Deatheater, a dark wizard, or that he, in fact, did indeed murder his family. You ask him things we all knew last year- that he told us, and that we acknowledged, accepted, and even encouraged as something we would have all done."
Susan found herself nodding in agreement. A little to her right, Ron Weasley scowled and shot to his feet. "Have you been brainwashed, Tonks? He admitted to casting an unforgivable!"
"An unforgivable which, in his position, I would have cast, too." The pink-haired woman- Tonks- replied back calmly. "He'd just seen his Godfather killed, for Merlin's sake!"
"He probably murdered his own Godfather." Ron shot back. "And he was trying to get the rest of us killed, too!"
"Why would he want to kill his own friends?" Tonks asked, exasperation clear in her voice.
Ron opened his mouth to answer, but, for the first time since the argument had started, Hermione spoke up. "He didn't need a reason." She answered patronizingly. "He was- and still is- a Dark Wizard. He let Voldemort in his head, most likely to get some tips on how to lead us all to painful, prolonged deaths! I bet he was writhing in anticipation for the day when he could take his Master's mark!"
"But the point is," Susan said quietly. "He wasn't marked. He never admitted to killing his family, even when under a truth potion. Yet he was charged with being a Deatheater, and murdering his family. Why?"
Hermione flushed a bright, angry, fire-engine red, and opened her mouth to answer, but Dumbledore intervened.
"Enough." The Wizard said firmly, blue eyes steely behind his half moon glasses. "For thos of you that doubt my word, stay. Perhaps it would help if you had a visual aid. Everyone else, go."
Obediently, the members of the meeting sorted themselves out. In the end, very few stayed. Susan saw, out of the corner of her eye, her Aunt hesitate, but then her Aunt shook her head and walked briskly out the door. After all, it was the word of one of the most powerful wizards of the time, a man who symbolized the light side. It was mostly current Hogwarts students who stayed- those who had know Harry Potter personally, and had observed his actions throughout his school years.
Snape had also stayed, as had the woman who had spoken up originally. A few other adults had stayed, but she couldn't see them- her back was to them. Dumbledore drew his wand. "Let me extract my memory." He said, drawing a slim silver thread from his head and putting it in a pensive he had removed from a cabinet on the side of the room. Everyone left in the room all leaned forward to view the memory, and so they were taken by surprise by Dumbledore's spell. There was a flash of light, and Susan knew no more.
For the first time since he had been incarcerated, Harry slept. And as he slept, he dreamed...
He was floating- floating in a swirl of colors and sounds. A symphony of voices swelled in volume and threatened to overwhelm his senses, so he clamped his hands over his ears- the sounds stopped, but he was soon surrounded by color after color after color… whirling, flashing, sparkling- on and on and on past his eyes. He took his hands off his ears to hide his eyes, but before he could do so, there was black. No, not black- nothing- and he was falling, falling, falling…
…and there was no bottom. He opened his mouth to scream, but he was in nothing, and only nothing will come from nothing…
…distantly he could hear two people arguing, and he knew what they were yelling about was important, but their voices were far-off, like a fuzzy radio in need of tuning. He tried to move away, away from the nothing and towards the voices…
…but then there was light, a spark, a beacon of light growing brighter and brighter and brighter, and he was pulled away from the voices and back through the nothing, but the nothing was only lasting a little while, because the light was there, illuminating and chasing away the nothing…
…there was no nothing anymore…
Harry's eyes snapped open and he let out an explosive gasps as he stared at the ceiling. For a second, he was confused, as his brain attempted to process his surroundings. At first he thought he was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but no, his wand had been snapped- he had been expelled- he would never return there… he had been sent to Azkaban, by those he had held closest to his heart. He was all alone in the dark with the screams of his parents and the other inmates and the accusing testimony of those he had held dear…
He suddenly he heard no screams, nor any other noise from the memories he had attempted to forget. His eyes snapped to the side of his bed in time to meet a concerned pair of grey eyes- and then he fainted.
Please Review!