Birth of a Nightmare Man

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.