HP The Darkening Of Your Soul

Chapter 1

The betrayal, when it happened, blindsided Harry worse than any bludger on the Quidditch pitch had ever done. He wasn't expecting it, wasn't prepared for it, could barely even believe it.

The war was over. The enemy was defeated. Harry had fulfilled the prophecy and was finally able to live the life he wanted to live, away from fame and from unreasonable expectations from a terrified public looking to a mere teenager for salvation.

At least, in theory, Harry was free to do what he wanted. The press still hounded him and wrote ridiculous articles about him, everything from questioning his decision to spend his summer at Hogwarts helping to rebuild to making up illicit affairs between Harry and just about every witch and wizard that Harry was even remotely in contact with and some he'd never even met before. But Harry didn't let that bother him, used to all that kind of unwanted attention by now. He spent his days working with Hermione and Professor Flitwick and many others to repair the damage to their beloved school. And at night he slept in the comfort and safety of Gryffindor Tower.

Ron had opted to join the Auror force a week after the final battle, when Kingsley as the brand new Minister for Magic had offered the positions to Ron and Harry both. Harry had declined, though. Yes, he still believed he might want to be an Auror, but first he needed a break after the year they'd had. So Harry decided to do as Hermione was planning to do and return to Hogwarts for another year to sit his NEWTs. After that he could always join the Auror department. Harry was pretty sure they wouldn't refuse him, no matter his NEWT scores.

A week before his birthday Harry received an owl from Kingsley asking him to come to the Ministry. There were a few things that needed clearing up and since Harry had not yet given any official statements to anyone, Kingsley suggested they take care of that at the same time. Like a fool, Harry didn't question any of this, especially after he showed the letter to Hermione and she assured him it was probably just a routine interview for their records.

And like an even bigger fool, Harry went to the Ministry the next day at the appointed time and walked right into a wall of Aurors. He was hit point blank by at least five stunners before he could even get his wand out of his pocket.

Harry woke up in a cell, white walls all around him with a solid white door without a knob. No windows of any kind, just basic metal furniture. A bed with a thin mattress and a threadbare blanket, a table and single chair and in the corner a toilet with a small sink above it without a mirror.

Gaping at his surroundings, Harry slowly sat up. "Hello?"

No reply.

Harry swallowed, cold sweat breaking out over his entire body. He was in a Ministry holding cell and he had no idea why. "What's going on? Kingsley? Anyone?" Harry walked up and down the cell, banged on the door a few times, but no reply followed and no one came to explain anything to him. Harry patted himself down thoroughly but anything useful he'd had on his person was missing. His wand, his mokeskin pouch he still kept around his neck, a handful of Galleons he kept in the pocket of his jeans in case he wanted to walk to Hogsmeade for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron or a bar of chocolate from Honeydukes.

After pacing for what felt like hours, Harry sat down on the bed with a weary sigh. Were the Death Eaters back in charge at the Ministry? Lucius Malfoy was back in Azkaban after a short trial, and many others like Yaxley, the Carrows and the Lestranges had died during the final battle. But Draco and Narcissa Malfoy were free to do what they wanted after Harry had spoken on their behalf during their trial. He owed Narcissa a life-debt. It seemed like the decent thing to do, but now Harry wondered if it had been the naive thing to do and he'd given them an opening to get their revenge on him somehow.

Simple toiletries and meals appeared at set times. Porridge for breakfast, a ham or cheese sandwich for lunch, and a plate of potatoes, carrots and a piece of dry chicken for dinner. Even though he was suspicious at first, Harry did eat the food provided. He knew all too well from his time at the Dursleys and from living in a tent for almost a year with minimum preparation that not eating when food was provided was a very silly thing to do. He didn't know what was coming. He needed his strength. He spent the days pacing and the nights sleeping as best he could, calling out every so often but no one ever answered and no one ever came.