Shadows Of Azkaban | Tomarry

| The Darkness Within

The cold stone walls of Azkaban seemed to swallow Harry whole as he sat huddled in the corner of his cell. The dementors' icy presence permeated every inch of the prison, draining him of hope and happiness. Betrayal weighed heavy on his mind, the memory of those he once trusted now twisted into instruments of his downfall.

It had started with whispers, rumours of dark deeds attributed to him. Harry had dismissed them at first, confident in the loyalty of his friends and the justice of the wizarding world. But then came the accusations, the public trials where faces he once called allies now stared back at him with cold indifference or masked glee.

Dumbledore's absence in his defence had been the final blow. The man Harry had looked up to as a mentor and guide, the one he believed would always stand by him, had stayed silent, allowing the wheels of injustice to turn unchecked.

Now, as Harry sat in his cell, memories flashed before his eyes—the laughter in the Gryffindor common room, the warmth of Mrs. Weasley's hugs, the camaraderie of the Order meetings—all tainted by the bitter taste of betrayal.

But amidst the darkness, a flicker of determination ignited within him. Dumbledore had underestimated him, thinking Azkaban would break his spirit. Little did they know, Harry Potter was not one to surrender easily.

With a clenched jaw and steely resolve, Harry vowed to bide his time, to wait for the right moment to strike back against those who had wronged him. Azkaban may have claimed his freedom, but it couldn't extinguish the fire of defiance burning in his heart.

As the dementors glided past his cell, their soul-sucking presence a constant reminder of his plight, Harry whispered to himself, "They will regret this, Dumbledore. I will make sure of it."