Post-OotP: In the summer following his Fifth Year, Harry is arrested and sent to Azkaban Prison. The catch: he's innocent. Follow Harry as he discovers his heritage... and all that comes with it.
Remus stood as the rest of the Order left the room after that night's meeting, discussing the Lord of Azkaban'a arrival at Hogwarts and his singling out of Luna Lovegood, the only student who openly believed in Harry Potter.
He walked over to where Dumbledore and Snape were talking and cleared his throat. They looked at him. "What is it?" Snape asked with a sneer.
Remus glanced over his shoulder. Other than the three of them, the room was empty. "I found information on Harry's trial," he said softly. The two men glanced at each other.
"May I inquire as to what you mean?" Dumbledore asked cautiously.
Remus sighed. "There's a spell- it's passive and almst undetectable until it meets Veritaserum in the bloodstream. Then it forces the one it's affecting to say whatever the caster wanted them to say. The spell completely dissapears when the effects of the Veritaserum wear off."
The other two men stared at him. It was Snape who broke the silence. "Is it that time of the month Lupin?" he asked with a scowl. "Or are you just out of your bloody mind?"
Dumbledore's eyes were sad looking. "I assure you, Remus, there is absolutely no way that Harry is innocent."
Remus glared at them. "Then it is you who are out of your bloody minds," he said, his voice low and dangerous. He spun on his heel and could be heard walking up the stairs to his room.
"Well, it's certaintly is a good thing we didn't tell him about Harry."
Snape nodded. He couldn't agree more.
Harry sighed heavily, sitting down at the dinner table with a 'thump'. He and Nimi had shown Luna a room and transfigured some outfits for her that were almost exactly the same as Nimi's, except that she preferred her sweater to fall to just below her waistline instead of halfway down her thighs.
He was so lost in his thoughts that it was no wonder he started when a brown owl landed on his bed. "Hello," he said cautiously, "The Owlery is on the west side of the Castle..." The owl didn't move but to cock its head, drop a letter on Harry's bed, and soar back out the open window.
"What have we here,"Harry murmured, picking up the letter and running a quick scan. No spells except one to make sure that he was the only one to read it. His curiosity piqued, he opened the letter, glancing first at the date and surprised to see that the letter had been sent in June. Glancing back down at the letter Harry's breath hitched in his throat. He would know the messy scral anywhere.
Hands shaking, he finished unfolding the letter and began to read.
Hey kiddo! How are you doing? Classes going well? You got a girlfriend? Don't glare like that, I've got a right to ask, don't I? I am your Godfather, and I've never been more proud to be anything in my life.
You are truly an amazing person, Harry. I am so honored to know you. When I was your aqge, the only thing I was worried about was playing pranks and going on dates with bimbos who couldn't remember their own names if you paid them. Harry, you are so much more than that. I cannot understand how you can face so much and still be so strong, downplay yourself so much. I am so proud of you.
But onto more serious things. Dumbledore mentioned something about you feeling guilty about these Voldemort vision things. Maybe he's right, maybe he's wrong, I don't know. But what I do know, Prongslet, is that it isn't your fault. Voldemort tried to kill you, and you survived. Just because that makes you have a connection to him doesn't mean it's a bad thing.
You could always inform on what he's doing- or you could learn to block them. I heard that Snivellus is teaching you Occlumency- it's a handy thing to have, even if you do have to study from Snape. Harry, you need to understand about him. I agree that he's a slimy, smarmy git. But I will admit that it's partially my fault. Something you need to know: Your father, Remus, the rat, and I apologized to him a few months into our Seventh Year. We did realize what gits we'd been. But he just blew us off, assumed it was some sort of joke. I will tell you that we never pranked him or picked onhim again after that, even if the hatred between us was still mutual.
Harry, there are some people in this world that just can't let go of things, but don't blame him for it. He's putting his life on the line to inform us about Voldemort; he has a right to be somewhat of a snarky bastard, even if he does take it way too far. So even if he doesn't teach you anything worthwhile, please, still study Occlumency any way you can and give him a chance. And a good talking to, if the opportunity presents itself.
Take care, Prongslet. I love you so much.
Harry angrily wiped a tear from his eye. God, he missed him so much... "Stupid Veil," he muttered. "Stupid Bellatrix."
"What's in the letter?" came a curious voice from behind him. He turned around to find Nimi looking at him.
"It's from my late godfather," Harry said softly. "He sent it before he died."
Nimi looked embarrased. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "You don't have to tell me."
He shrugged. "It would be nice to talk about it, I guess. I s'pose the story really starts in my third year, when Sirius Black escaped. He was my godfather." She opened her mouth, and Harry held up a hand. "Before you say anything, he was innocent. Peter Pettigrew framed him. My parents switched to Peter as the Secret Keeper in the last minute because they thought Voldemort would never suspect they would use Peter; It turned out Peter was a Death Eater. He betrayed my parents to Voldemort.
"In the street that day, Sirius had chased down Pettigrew to get revege. Peter blew up the street with a wand behind his back, made it look like Sirius did it, and transformed into a rat, cutting off his finger so it looked like he blew up in the explosion.
"He stayed as a rat with the Weasleys, and my once-best-friend Ron. We didn't know who he was until Sirius and Remus showed us. It turned out that my dad had been a stag Animagus, Sirius a dog, and Peter a rat. Remus wasn't an Animagus because he was a werewolf.
"Remus transformed that night; it turned out it was a full moon. In the confusion, Peter escaped. Sirius was recaptured, so my other friend, Hermione, and I traveled back in time to rescue the hippogriff, Buckbeak. We then rescued Sirius from Flitwick's office where they had locked him up and helped him escape on Buckbeak.
"I already told you about my fourth year, with the Tournament and Voldemort's return. In my fifth year, I ended up having shared visions of what Voldemort was doing through my scar. He found out and sent me a fake vision of him torturing Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. Luna, Ginny, Neville, Ron, Hermione, and I went to rescue him only to find out it was a trick.
"We held our own for a bit, and then the Order came. Sirius was with them. He dueled with his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. She Stunned him, and he fell into the Veil."
Nimi bit her lip. "I'm so sorry, Harry." He shrugged, not wanting to talk about it anymore. There wasn't exactly anything either of them could do.
Remus was pacing his room angrily. They didn't believe him. They didn't bloody believe him. Well, that was fine with him. Summoning his suitcase to him, he performed a quick packing charm and, in a moments time, was ready to go.
He walked down the stairs, not caring if anyone saw. Which someone did. "Remus, where are you going?" Hermione asked him.
"I'm leaving," he growled. "Tell Dumbledore that I have officially quit the Order of the Phoenix and if I ever hear from him again it will be too soon."
And leaving Hermione staring at him he walked out the front door of Grimmauld Place and passed the wards before Apparating to an alley near obscure Muggle Hotel tin London that he had stayed at before, knowing that no one would be finding him anytime soon.
A blond man walked down a set of stairs and stopped in front of a set of bars. There were two women chained to the wall inside; one looked up and glared.
"Hi Lucy!" she said sarcastically. "Just PEACHY to see you, thanks for asking!"
Malfoy leveled a glare at her. "Don't call me Lucy," he growled. "You stupid bitch."
"Takes one to know one!" the blond woman called out.
The chestnut-haired one sniggered as Malfoy turned an interesting shade of purple. "CRUCIO!" Malfoy scrreeched, pointing his wand at the blond. She did the same as the chestnut haired one had the day before, clenching her teeth, glaring, and refusing to scream, panting when the curse was finally taken off.
"I'll kill you someday, Malfoy," the chestnut haired one hissed. "I really will. As soon as I get out of here, I'll get you so bad... first, I'll chop of your buddies, and then I'll break all your limbs, and then I'll rip out your teeth and your tongue, and-"
Malfoy laughed, though it seemd to be to cover up some nervousness. "No, I'll kill you, and you can join your daughter and husband in HELL!"
The woman paled. "What?" she whispered. "He-"
Malfoy chuckled. "Oh yes, he was taken care of. Your godson was heartbroken, I hear. Was crying for his widdle godfather."
Still pale, but her temper returning, a tear fell down her cheek. "You BASTARD!"
Malfoy just laughed and left.
"Oh my god," the one with the chestnut hair whispered, his eyes wide. "He's gone." Her primal scream rang through the room, and was heard throughout the Malfoy Manor.
The man in the grey mist paced.
He was thinking about the boy this time. The way he woukld look at him with those trusting green eyes, the way he had stopped him from killing Peter... He was so noble, just like his father. People told him that he was just like his father because they looked alike; he was one of the few who saw beyond that, that the boy was like his father in far more than looks.
Both the boy and his father were chivalrous, caring, kind... the epitome of Gruffindor. Sure, his father had been cruel to one person... But few knew how that started. And it certainly wasn't with the father. And the boy had his rivalry with the Malfoy lad- father and son were alike in so many ways.
He had two best friends, much like his father. The father had had three, but after the betrayal... he hadn't liked to think of the Rat that way. He still didn't. The stupid bastard...
It was because of him that the boy had no parents. It was all the fault of the Traitorous Rat. He had fallen too far to ever be redeemed.
He would join his hypocrite half-blood Master rotting in hell.
A/N: 'Chess in his head' is modified from 'playing Pazaak in your head' from Knights of the Old Republic II'.
(at fanfiction.net): Thank you for the "time of the month" idea!