chapter 4

Birth of a Nightmare Man

Summary: Prequel to The Nightmare Man. How did Harry Potter become a feared lord of ancient times? Here we'll see the start of it.

Pairing/s: None.

Warnings: Violence, gore, evil!Harry and Twisted!Harry. Seriously, for quite a bit he's not friendly at all with humans. Be warned.

Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this or any other fanfiction.

-o-

Hey guys, pardon for the wait. Have been busy with school, and I had to chase the inspiration because it tried to run away from me.

Enjoy the chapter!

-o-

Chapter Four

The winter had been harsh and cold, like always but one spring morning, mid-April or so, Harry was woken up by the guards. He sat up and looked at them.

"Up we go, Potter," one of them said. "Your trial is today."

"Lovely," he said, like he didn't already know this due to George's notes over the winter. George had made sure to snoop around the Ministry so Harry got to know when it was due to happen. "What about my things?"

"Depending on the outcome of the trial, they'll be packed up by the Dementors should you be released. If you're found guilty, you'll just return here."

"I see. Well, shall we go then?"

He wondered if they would let him shower, or do something about his robes. He didn't have anything else to wear and they were… well, dirty was an understatement. Since he wore the chains that prevented his magic from coming out he stepped out of the cell without any wands pointed at him. He wasn't strong enough to fight them off, and today he had no reason to fight them.

"Trial, Potter?" Rabastan said.

"Yes."

"Good. Get yourself out of here and don't bloody come back."

"Ah, I didn't know you cared so much for me."

"No, it's just it'll be a lot more peaceful without you around."

Rabastan grinned. The guards sneered but Harry only smiled at that. To his relief he was allowed to shower briefly and one of the guards cast a few cleaning charms on his threadbare robes. After that, he stepped out of Azkaban for the first time in nearly three years.

The weather was dreadful around the island, waves crashing onto the shore but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He even liked walking through the Ministry for he saw normal people. Sure, they all stared at him but it was nice they took a more scenic route than simply Flooing inside. In the end he was led into a similar room he had been in for his hearing before fifth year; might as well have been a lifetime ago.

Amelia Bones was there. The Order was there, and judges. Well away from the Order sat George, and he smiled at Harry as the young man was led to a chair in the middle of the room. He was chained to it and two Dementors were brought in as guards. Their coldness seeped into the room, but it was a chilly feeling Harry now enjoyed. He noted with some satisfaction that no one else shared that pleasure, as they shied away from the Dementors or shuddered at the cold.

He glanced over at the Order, wondering what they were doing there. To see he wasn't released? That was a theory he could work with, considering it was Dumbledore who had left him in Azkaban.

But if he hadn't been dropped off there, locked up like a monster, what would he be doing today? Harry wasn't sure. A life after Voldemort had seemed too unlikely, almost a gift. He imagined he would've gone along with things and hooked up with Ginny. He had liked her, at one point. Maybe they would be married, even have a kid like Ron and Hermione.

Would he have liked it? Enjoyed it even? Comparing what he had today, and what he could have had without Azkaban, Harry wasn't sure what he would have chosen.

One of the Dementors brushed against his hand. He hid his smile, and he saw the other fidget. It was jealous perhaps, that the other got to touch him. Their maker. He was their maker, how he was that he didn't understand and now he didn't care.

He would miss this, if it ever was to disappear.

Harry realized he didn't mind having lost three years of his freedom, if this was what he gained. Dementors, even friends with Rabastan Lestrange! Learning hate, learning to live with it, learning what truly mattered to him; if he was released today, Harry wouldn't jump at the chance of becoming an Auror.

If anything, he'd run the opposite direction and become a hermit for the rest of his life. He was sick of appearing in newspapers, and he reckoned George was sick with it too. He only had George as a friend but that didn't matter; he could deal with only having one friend.

He had an army of Dementors to fill up the rest.

"Harry James Potter," Amelia said, "first of all I'd like to apologize on the Ministry's behalf. For three years you have been in Azkaban without a proper trial and for that there is no excuse."

"On the contrary, Minister, you work very fast; my godfather was locked up for twelve years and in the end he had to escape himself," Harry said. "Three years are not that bad in comparison."

"Yes, your godfather. His name has been cleared, and Sirius Black may no longer be alive but he is now considered an innocent man. This trial is not in reality a trial."

"It's not, Minister?" he asked.

"All but a formality," she said and there were gasps from the Order's side while the judges nodded their heads, smiling at Harry. "There is no proof for anything you have been accused off but I would like to ask a few questions while you are under the influence of Veritaserum."

Harry only shrugged and was administrated the dose. He wondered for a moment if she was going to ask if he would like to murder someone, because the answer would be a clear yes.

He would like to murder a lot of people really. On the top of his list right now was Molly for poisoning him but she was battling with Dumbledore because he was the idiot who locked Harry up. Even though if had some positive effects, he wasn't going to let Dumbledore get off easy. If the man hadn't meddled from the start, Harry's life wouldn't have been such a hell.

Bones began:

"Is your name Harry James Potter?"

"… Yes."

He wondered why he had paused, as if to struggle before the name came flowing out.

"Do you or do you not have the ability to speak Parseltongue?"

Oh, did the questions have anything to do with what he was accused off in the fake trial?

"I… do not."

Shuffling and murmurs brooding amongst the Order, and Harry wanted to release a silly grin. Instead he bit down on his tongue until he tasted blood.

"Have you ever killed any other person with the exception of Lord Voldemort?"

"Technically, he killed himself, Minister, I merely assisted. But no, I have not."

Honestly, he hadn't killed Voldemort. Never fired off an Avada Kedavra. He just destroyed some Horcruxes and watched the man doom himself. He had warned Voldemort but Voldemort never struck him as the type to actually regret to the point he would become even remotely sane again. Maybe if a miracle had appeared out of nowhere and kicked that Dark Lord in the arse, but… well, what's done is done.

"Have you ever committed an act of violence against a person other than Voldemort?"

"Yes, Minister."

"Who?" she asked, a frown on her face.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, right after she murdered my godfather. I was a tad upset. Then Draco Malfoy in sixth year, for which I have no excuse. It was incredibly foolish of me, and I'm glad he lived to continue to hate me, Minister."

Life would be so boring without a Malfoy, Harry reckoned. Plus Draco had saved his life, and Narcissa too. She was one badass woman, lying to Voldemort himself without even twitching. Harry knew her husband couldn't have done it.

Amelia Bones tapped her fingers against some parchments.

"Last question, Harry, as I'm quite satisfied in knowing you'll be a free man today; has anyone committed an act of violence towards you after you were thrown into Azkaban? Except for the guards that were found guilty of torturing the prisoners."

"Yes, I was poisoned by Molly Weasley."

Oops. Not killing Molly then. Oh well, maybe someone else would take care of her for him.

Amelia's sharp eyes found Molly Weasley who stood up and screamed:

"Liar!"

"Oh no, Umbridge taught me in fifth year I must not tell lies. Toad."

George snorted at that last word and Harry felt his head roll. Dear god he was tired.

"Guards, take Molly Weasley into custody and see if there's truth to the story. Harry is still under Veritaserum influence, he can't lie about it."

He felt a bit floaty now. Was floaty a word? To float, floating… floaty?

"Harry, are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," he got out. "Just… tired. Yes, tired. That prison is dreadfully chilly and interrupts one's sleep."

Maybe you should take Veritaserum on a full stomach. Or at least, on a fuller one than his.

He heard Amelia Bones pass her sentence on him:

"I hereby find Harry James Potter free of all charges. He is to be released immediately."

Screams. The chains unlocking. People arguing and then he was helped up. The Order was steered outside, still arguing and shouting at Amelia Bones who came to a stop before Harry. The judges filed out too, clapping him on the shoulder, congratulating him for his newfound freedom. Harry focused on Amelia. He expected her to say it was a joke and that the chains would snap around his wrists again.

"An official pardon from the Ministry will come later this week," she told him, "but for now, I hope you accept my apologies."

Oh, she wasn't joking. He was free? Harry roused enough to answer:

"It's not your fault, Minister. You didn't know."

"I should have known. It is my job to know. Now, I do believe these belong to you."

Wands. As in plural. Harry looked down at them both. One was his own, beloved holly wand but the other…

"Why Voldemort's?" he asked softly.

"Because when we only took your wand, his shrieked," she said. "It was quite the spectacle."

"Isn't that seen as a sign that I'm the next evil Dark Lord?" he wondered.

"The wand does not define its master," she stated. "His wand has clearly chosen you as its new master. You defeated him."

Harry took both wands in his hands and magic flared to life inside of him. But unlike before, there were no chains to stop it from flowing out. He held one wand in each hand and let the magic go.

Sparks flew out of them both and he laughed at the feeling of magic warming him up from the inside out. He thought he felt bones creak as the magic rushed to come back to him and Amelia said:

"That's the spirit, get it back. Almost three years has it lain dormant; I suggest you get it out of your system as soon as possible."

"Believe me, Minister," George's voice came, "I'll make sure of that."

"Thank you, Mr Weasley," she said. "Now, Harry, don't hesitate to write me if you have any troubles. Any troubles at all."

"Yes, thank you Minister."

"It was my pleasure. And thank you Mr Weasley for aiding me in helping Mr Potter out of Azkaban."

"Don't you worry, Minister, I wanted it just as badly as you. Come here, Harry."

The hug was the first full-body human contact Harry had had in three years and he nearly dropped the wands in his need to return it. He didn't want to let go.

"It's alright, Harry," George whispered. "You don't have to."

-o-

Three hours later he was finally sitting down again. George had not been kind. He had been relentless. Harry had been to a hairdresser, bought new clothes, getting checked out at St Mungo's, and had to follow George as he bought food home.

To their home.

Harry was sitting on a bed, in a room that was his own. He had noticed the Invisibility Cloak hanging in the wardrobe, his broom propped up next to it. Tucked in his nightstand was the Marauder's Map, and all his possessions were loaded up in a trunk. The personal items from his cell were in a package that George collected personally just a half-hour ago.

He was running a bath now, a bathroom connected to Harry's room. Harry just sat there and breathed, the two wands in his lap. He stroke Voldemort's bone white wand and felt the magic sing. His magic responded to both wands equally strong. He wondered if Dumbledore knew that.

"Harry?"

"Yeah," he said, looking up.

George looked happier.

"Blimey, I hadn't noticed how thin you are until now. You're a twig!"

"Thank you, George. That was very kind."

"You know me, I give the best compliments. Rabastan sends his love. Does he fancy you or what?"

"I don't know, but at least I was capable of speech, not just gargled screams."

"Right. Charming bunch you left him with. Now, up you get."

Harry looked out of the bedroom instead. The house was big, enough that he had his own sitting room and George had his own space complete with a potions lab and experimentation room. When asked, George stated he had worked on the house for the last few months, intending it to be a surprise when Harry was released.

"Harry, daydream later! Bath, now."

He was pulled up from the bed and thrust into the bathroom where a steaming bath awaited. He sank down into it after throwing his robes to the floor and sighed as the warmth surrounded him. A bath… how long since he had taken a real bath, not just a shower? Fourth year maybe, when he was listening to the egg. It had been a big bath, but he hadn't enjoyed it as much as he enjoyed this one. Harry pinched himself, just to be sure. If this was a dream, he wished he'd die without ever waking up from it.

But it wasn't a dream. He had asked George five times and he was getting bruises from the pinches George had given him. So this was real. The water was real. The bath, and his bedroom, and the whole house… all real. No more days spent in that cold cell, lying on a mattress that saw better days before he was even born and thinking of the few good things he had to think about. Much had been spoiled by the fact his friends, all but one had betrayed him.

For a moment Harry allowed himself to think about Ron and Hermione. They had been good, up until the moment he was thrown into Azkaban. He hadn't heard from them since. All he knew what was George had told him and it wasn't much. Harry didn't want to hear anymore. His hands itched to close around their throats, have them feel just as betrayed as he was…

Harry sighed. He hardly had any muscles. He couldn't kill anything right now. His magic was free, but he wasn't fine. He looked at his hands, stroke up his arms. Skin and bones, that was all. He had to heal first, recover from the years in prison.

That didn't mean he would forgive anyone. He still wanted to kill. He yearned for it. The thought of all of his friends, all those who had helped him, now had a comfortable life not caring one bit about the crazy Harry Potter… it made his blood boil.

"You won't get away with it," he promised. "Never."

"Stop talking to yourself and wash up!" George yelled through the door.

"How can I resist talking to such a beautiful person?" Harry yelled back. "Have you seen me lately?"

"Yeah, tall and skinny with a murderous look in his eyes. Real handsome there. Wash up!"

"You just can't appreciate beauty."

"Oh god, what did they do to you in there? How can you say such embarrassing things?"

Harry grinned at the closed door and then dunked his head under water. He washed himself thoroughly and then got dressed with clothes George had bought. They were loose on him but still, they were whole and warm.

George stood up as he came out.

"There, looking better. Dinner though; you're hungry?"

"Not really but I should eat."

"Good. I'll go and make sure it'd done, just rest for a bit."

George couldn't resist hugging him again and Harry hugged him back.

"Be warned, I'll be doing that a lot," George told him.

"You have a shop to take care off."

"Personal time, I have people who work there so it's fine. Don't think you can get rid of me that easily."

George ran out after that, yelling about dinner to what Harry assumed were house-elves while he himself sat down on the bed. It didn't take long though for him to feel he was being watched… well, not watched exactly but still…

Harry turned his head and outside one of the windows was a Dementor, hands on the windowsill and chin resting between them.

"Eh?"

Then he ran up and threw the window open. There was even more outside.

"What are you doing?" he hissed. "You can't just leave Azkaban!"

They spoke to him, squabbling amongst one another to be the one to tell him and Harry was getting a headache.

"One at the time!" he said. "They haven't noticed you're gone?"

In tandem they shook their heads.

"That's good, but… you can't leave Azkaban."

Whines. Oh god, they had learned how to whine, and he knew if they had eyes he would be given a Dementor's version of a wounded puppy-look. Harry cleared his throat and said:

"No. You can't leave that place just yet."

They perked up at 'yet'.

"So go back now," Harry said. "You can visit me but please be discreet, and don't scare George half to death, alright?"

"Harry, are you talking to yourself again?"

George opened the door and yelped when a Dementor's face was the first thing he saw.

"Yeah, they came to say hi," Harry said.

"Harry! Warn me when they're here!"

-o-

The silence was grave around the table. At the head of it sat Albus Dumbledore with closed eyes and bent head. Ron was going on about his mother's arrest, and how it was ridiculous that she even had been arrested!

"And George, that bastard, he didn't even try to defend her!"

Molly Weasley was to be held until her trial, but everyone in the Ministry already knew she was guilty. Lucius Malfoy, slippery snake as he was made sure he walked away free from the whole ordeal with Voldemort, had even smiled at that.

"She'd never do anything like that!"

Oh, she had and she had confessed to Albus too, giving him many things to think about. It had all led up to today's events. Amelia Bones had the nerve to release Harry without even consulting Albus first. All of his efforts, gone to waste! But he knew now. Oh yes, he was certain of it. He had tried to read Harry's mind, slip it into it when he entered the room but was blocked.

Occlumency shields, it had to be! Harry was useless at Occlumency, too much clouding his mind so that was not his work. Albus knew then that Molly's fears were right.

"I'm afraid that is not all," Albus spoke. "Poor Molly, we'll do everything in our power to have her released but she did give Harry poison."

The Order stilled and stared at him. Albus looked up and saw them all in the eye.

"But, not to our Harry," he said. "She would never harm Harry. She was right. Our dear Molly was right. Harry is gone."

"What are you saying?" Hermione said.

"She said it was Voldemort in there, and after the trial I am certain. Voldemort survived, and has taken over Harry's body."

Gasps and moans. Hermione covered her face with her hands, Ron went to comfort her.

"How do you know?" he said.

"During the trial he had Occlumency shields that Harry could never be capable of rising by himself, and his hesitation when answering the questions was strange. I believe strongly that it is Voldemort that has possessed Harry's body, that Harry is lost to us now."

"So what do we do now?" Ron asked as the others mourned Harry's passing.

"Oh, we bide our time, and when the time is right… we will finish Harry's noble work."

-o-

Harry shuddered and George looked up at him.

"What?"

"I just got the feeling of something… creepy," Harry said. "Must be Dumbledore. I have no doubt that they're sitting gathered something and pissing their pants, thinking up some new plan to imprison me."

"I hear someone has become paranoid."

"Constant vigilance."

"Aah, Moody… shame he died. I think he would've tried to help you."

"Because he's mental, and I'm considered mental?"

"Well, I'm mental too," George said. "We all are. Some just hide it better."

Harry sank into the armchair, holding a cup of tea in his hands. The warmth was comforting despite spring coming, slowly passing over to summer. The chill of Azkaban wouldn't leave him so quickly.

"They can plan all they want," he said. "I'll be ready this time."

Tbc…

Will he really?

Chapter five: Harry recovers, and Albus tries to win back his loyalty. But Harry is no longer an abused, helpless child, and he has every Dementor in existence under his control…