Faded innocence

Chapter one

Disclaimer- Harry Potter belongs to Jk. Rowling, not me. Just writing an alternate ending.

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Harry James Potter stared at the grey bricks that marred the walls of Azkaban prison. He looked around his tiny cell and sighed. The walls were changed from a nice grey shade to an Obsidian Black, he looked from one of them to the other. This one was a deeper black and had lines on them scratched forcefully by his fingernails to keep count of the days he'd been here. He'd lost count somewhere along his first year. He tried asking the date from one of the Aurors that patrolled the area, they had laughed on his face and told him to stay silent. He put his arms around his knees in a futile attempt to keep himself warm.

The air got colder and colder as the dementors; The creatures that guarded the prison, made their way from one prisoner to the other. dementors, the most vile creatures to walk, or rather float on the earth. They feed on your happy memories, making you relive your worst.

Most of the guilty prisoners here lose their minds in their first month. The thing that kept Harry sane, hate. Pure unchangeable hate. Hate for his so-called 'second family', Hate for his parents who had to leave this world when he was just an infant. Hate for Voldemort who took them away before he even could know what love was. Hate for his so-called 'best friends' who abandoned him. Hate for his godfather Sirius Black who believed him to be a criminal without giving him the benefit of the doubt. Hate for Remus Lupin, who shook his head at Harry in disappointment. Hate for the lack of belief on Dumbledore's face as he condemns him guilty. The grandfather figure that he always adopted to his students from his eyes gone, with the twinkle in his eyes. Hate on the world for deeming him a loveless life. All that he believed him turned their backs on him the moment he needed them most. He hated the people he once called family. They subjected him to this hell hole. At first, he had visions from Voldemort. Him torturing and killing innocent muggles, feeling the pain they were feeling. It was enough to drive him mad. After a while, he learned how to block the visions. 'Probably Occulmency.'  He thought.

He heard the prisoner in the next cell shout and called for her husband. The air had gone frigid cold. The woman stopped begging and crying. He knew what this meant, he was next.  As he saw the black cloak travel to get to him he curled up on the floor in a fetal position and closed his eyes. He opened his mind and started to see his worst nightmares again. When the dementor was standing in front of him he knew there was no escape.

All he saw was green light as he heard his father yell, "Lily, take Harry and go! I'll hold him off." He heard his mother begged, "please, take me instead. Please." It was the same every time but each time he was exposed to the power of dementors, it was slightly louder and slightly longer. The green light, the shouts of his mother changed to reveal the faces of Hermione, the Weasley's, Sirius, and Remus. Sirius stood up from the stand and in three quick strides reached Harry's seat in the middle of the room, his hands and legs bound in shackles like some animal. "You are no godson of mine!" He shouted at him as he took his wand out and severed the golden thread between them, with one lazy swish of his wand. Tears started to cloud his eyes as he saw Hermione disappointment masking her features, as she testified that he was always hateful towards his relatives. He remembered with crystal clarity when Ron emerged from behind her and said the same thing, his face etched with hate, fury, and disappointment. He remembered when Hermione came close to him and slapped him in the face making a deep red gash that remained to this day. He remembered when Remus Lupin came and told him he was a disgrace to his parent's memories. He remembered when they all took out their wands and whispered the incantation that ended his hope.

With one spell his album, with all of his photo album, his wand, his broomstick, and his invisibility cloak was set on fire. His pupils reflected the flame that he also felt in his heart as he watched the only photos he had of his parents were reduced to ashes.

The dementor passed to the next prisoner. As he regained his senses he felt the familiar tug in his chest. Fury, hate, and sadness all etched to one feeling. For every tear that escaped his eyes during his stay here, he would make them cry blood. He would make the people that condemned him to hell on earth pay in the most ruthless way possible. What Harry learned during his stay in Azkaban was that mental wounds were so much worse than physical ones.

Suddenly he heard murmured voices talking. He scooted to the end of his cell where there was no light and listened to their conversation.

"I am pretty sure that I heard them say, Harry Potter. The one who killed the three muggles. He was found innocent. His friends are coming to get him as soon as they get the release papers." Harry's head shot out as his name was mentioned. "Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Innocent?" Asked the second voice. "Apparently they found a death eater that escaped Azkaban, Bellatrix Lestrange. When questioned with Veritaserum to tell all her crimes, she confessed that she polyjuiced herself to look like him and knocked him out, put him in a bedroom. She made sure she was seen to make sure she was seen when killing them by the neighbor. Mrs. Figg was it." The second Auror seemed to be taken aback by the information he received. "So you're telling me that we have been taunting and hitting an innocent man. May Merlin have mercy on our souls."

'So,' thought Harry. 'They're coming for me. Let the games begin.' He smirked as he returned to his dark corner.