Innocence Cannot Be Granted: Mad World
Disclaimer: Well, considering I’m not richer than England royalty, I don’t own Harry Potter.
Story: Harry Potter has been sentenced to Azkaban for life for the murder of sixteen people. Now it is two and half years later and he has escaped. Without meaning to, he escaped to Hogwarts, Founders' era.
Set as an AU, sort of after…fifth year? Just as the Department of Mysteries incident, I think.
Spoilers: Books 1-7 probably.
Warnings: ????
Pairings: Godric/Harry/Salazar
A/n: I have this odd feeling this was supposed to take place after fourth year, but since the first draft was lost I wouldn’t know. Oh well, it takes place after fifth year this time. And the descriptions for Salazar and Godric are a bit different from the ones I used in ‘Dear Old Hogwarts.’
Innocence Cannot Be Granted
Chapter One: Mad World
The gray, drab cell held only one occupant. At age seventeen, Harry Potter was the youngest resident of Azkaban, arrested for the murders of sixteen people. He rarely spoke nowadays, silent and withdrawn in his cell. He did, on the rare occasion, heal the other prisoners from certain distances. They were always thankful, though once upon a time they had tried to kill him outside of those walls.
But Harry stayed silent, healing and never responding.
It was a stark contrast from when he was put into that cell at age sixteen, the youngest to have ever been put into Azkaban. In those days…he had screamed himself hoarse and his eyes had blazed with betrayal and anger.
His fellow cell mates around him had grown to need him to heal them after the effects of the dementors, though Harry himself suffered far more greatly. Appreciatively, they even tried talking to him, but he was as unresponsive to their heeding talk, far too gone in his mind. It was a shame, they thought. For they had begun to like the boy they used to target.
The clank! clank! of steel-soled boots echoed down the hall, and many of the prisoners looked up to see the minister walking with his Auror entourage heading for a particular cell. Rufus Scrimgeour frowned, seeing all the aware prisoners in the ward, especially considering it was the high-level security ward that dementors swept through every fifteen minutes. He didn’t know that it was all due to Harry’s healing abilities, abilities that did Harry’s own health no good.
Stopping before the boy, Rufus frowned at how his predecessor had allowed the boy to live so coarsely. If he had been at the trial and even if the boy was still convicted –not that he believed it, contrary to the evidence pointing at the boy –he’d have let the boy live in one of those ‘cupcake prisons’ muggles seemed fond of letting some of their own spend prison time in. A nice warded house, under careful watch, and monitored daily. Living comfortable with full meals and all the necessities, and then some. It wouldn’t do to alienate the boy, after all. He could still be used, and who knew how really useful the boy really was or could be later on? He wouldn’t take chances that he’d completely alienate the boy, though Rufus knew there had to be some measures and securities to be dealt out.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t at the trial and he hadn’t been minister yet so there wasn’t anything he could do until now. Now he just had to play his cards right, if only the boy wasn’t sitting there eerily quiet and unmoving. Merlin, he hoped the boy wasn’t one of the few that were actually insane in that ward.
“Mr. Potter, you have a summons,” Rufus stated authoritatively. The boy didn’t respond, head down and his unkempt hair, strangely not as long as it should be due to the years passing, falling around his face and shadowing his eyes.
He tried again, “You’re an important figurehead in this war, Mr. Potter. We need you out there, giving hope and fighting for the side of the light. If you do this, you’ll redeem yourself in the eyes of the people. In fact, we may even be able to clear the charges against you.”
Rufus wasn’t stupid, as some would say about his predecessor. He was on the boy’s side of course, but the main point is that Rufus was trying to do the best for the people, and do the absolute best he could for his job. He may be on the boy’s side, but he was still a politician. Things had to get done, no matter what methods Rufus used. For the people’s welfare, even if Rufus had to bribe or even guilt the boy into helping, no matter his own beliefs that the boy was innocent.
“Mr. Potter…you did well helping in the beginning of the war. Before you were imprisoned, of course, you were turning the tide for us. We need you now to help us turn the tide again.”
He didn’t want to admit how horrific the war had become. After the boy was imprisoned, things began to look bleak and the war was turning to You-Know-Who’s favor. It was why he was able to approach the boy now with this deal, because they were getting desperate.
The boy suddenly looked up, and Rufus had to hide his flinch at the dead look in the usually vibrant green eyes he’d heard so much about. The boy’s face was pale and slightly gaunt, though not as much as he had expected after two and a half years in Azkaban. Still, a blank melancholy look seemed permanently etched into his face. No emotion and yet at the same time you felt sad just looking at it…
“Mr. Potter –Harry, can you understand me?” Rufus lightened his tone, trying to be gentler.
He looked passed Rufus to the cell across him, Lucius Malfoy staring right back and watching the scene with scrutinizing eyes. Rufus looked back at the blond man, his lip curling. How Malfoy had survived with his mind intact and as aware as he was, he didn’t know, but he’d like to make the man suffer more in that cell than he seemed to not be in.
When Rufus looked back, he hadn’t noticed Harry stretching out a hand and white light surrounding it. In moments, there was an explosion that knocked him and his Aurors back, multiple cells opening and allowing prisoners to escape. Looking back into the cell, he noticed Harry was gone. And the time turner he had been about to drop off to the Department of Mysteries had rolled away from him near to where Harry should’ve been, broken and sand spilling out of the contraption.
Well, he could still salvaged the situation somehow.
+
+
+
+
+
+
Harry landed roughly on the ground, and when he peered out underneath his fringe he saw trees and an encampment. There were several men loitering about, staring at him.
Suddenly, one of them shouted out.
“Demon!”
Harry immediately shot up to his feet and his hands began to crackle with magic. His mind went numb and began to lash out, fighting these people with strange pitchforks and shovels and whatever farming tools were in reach. Were these muggles? It was still a battle situation, however, so Harry would still fight.
“Hold it!” a lithe, beautiful woman with Veela-like features appeared to his side and was holding a wand. There were three others with her, but Harry only evaluated their threat level and then shot towards them, deeming them threats. Surprised, they could only dodge to the side and Harry began to fight with all four of them.
The Veela with white blond hair and amber eyes joined with the other woman with an odd dark blue color for hair and dark eyes. The two of them tried distracting him, while the other two went on the offensive. The male with dark hair and green eyes that were lighter than Harry’s shot off a dark curse at him, while the blonde man with brown eyes tried to disarm him. They were having trouble getting a lock on him when a little girl burst out of the foliage and ran into the middle of the fight, halting everything.
Harry was the first to stop and they couldn’t get advantage of that without risking the girl. However, they were confused when the one they were fighting softened his look to the girl who was crying for them to stop hurting each other. They tensed when they saw him move slowly to the crying girl, watching him carefully as he kneeled down to be closer to her height, still at least a head taller than her. If he did anything suspicious, they’d just have to risk it and curse him.
Harry wiped the tears off her face carefully, aware of all the eyes on him. But he would never hurt her, never the ones who were so young. He plucked a small flower off the ground near him, straightening it and then handing it to the girl.
“Hi,” he said hoarsely. It’s been so long since he’s talked… “My name’s Harry. What’s your’s?”
She looked at him with wide eyes, “M-my name’s Lilienne.”
He felt his heart clenched up, but he pushed the feeling away. “Can I call you Lily? Do you like flowers? You can have this one.”
She shyly accepted it, “No one’s ever called me that. It’s nice.”
He was surprised when the girl threw herself at him and hugged him tight. He didn’t notice the tender smile that he wore as he gazed down at her, though everyone else did. It helped the others to relax a little, though they were still cautious.
A woman stepped out from the crowd, hesitantly walking towards the two. Harry’s gaze snapped up and his face smoothed over, tightening his arms around the oblivious girl protectively. Seeing the way she was being warily watched, the woman smiled gently.
“It’s okay. I’m her mother.”
His face didn’t change, but his arms loosened slightly. Taking that as an okay sign, the woman walked closer and knelt near the two.
“Thank you for not harming my child. The way you gazed at her…there is no way a demon would look that way. You can perform magic though, so maybe not all of it is devilry,” she said, looking at him in awe.
The four Harry had been fighting walked closer, and Harry looked back up with the blank melancholic expression he usually wore.
“Lilienne, we must go. Let them talk, okay?” the woman asked her daughter.
“But I want to stay with Harry,” the little girl wiped her eyes and pouted.
“I’ll see you, Lily,” Harry forced out, his throat still not cooperating with him.
“I will send for some water,” the woman assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder while picking up her daughter. She walked away and the others began crowding around her to ask what was going on.
“You have such puzzling expressions,” the Veela one said confused. “You have a cold look when you fight, expressionless to threats and such melancholy for all other times.”
He did not answer her, staring at her coolly, even with the melancholy permanently etched onto his face. Only his eyes seemed to change the most, though not as often as any regular being would.
“You seem not to want to harm others, as we are assuming you lashed out in defense. We need an instructor for our school, you see. To fill up a post as a defense teacher. You seemed to know your stuff, seeing as how you held up against all four of us,” the blond man filled in warily.
“While we assume this was just a misunderstanding, don’t mistake that we aren’t wary of offering the position. We are just desperate for one to be accepted, this close to start of the term,” the other woman said.
“Who are you?” Harry asked gruffly.
The dark haired man raised his eyebrows, “I am Salazar Slytherin, that is Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff.”
Harry froze, closing his eyes in pain. The moment of weakness passed quickly, making the others uncertain if it had even happened.
“Alright.”
+
+
+
+
+
+
Harry had been taken to Hogwarts, seeing the castle for the first time in two and half years. It was a different Hogwarts, younger, but it was still his.
He had taken a bath, scrubbed himself clean, brushed his teeth, and clothed himself in new clothing. He looked more respectable without all the grime and dirt that had encased his body before, his clothing no longer torn and dirtied. His hair wasn’t filthy any more, but it still fell softly around his face, no longer as scruffy as it was in the pre-Azkaban days. Instead it was sleek and smooth, and just slightly curly. Without his glasses, his eyes stood out more, though the effect was wasted with them as empty voids.
He was clean, gorgeous, and respectable –as was summed up by the astronomy professor.
Started 4/17/08 –Completed 4/17/08
Story: Harry Potter has been sentenced to Azkaban for life for the murder of sixteen people. Now it is two and half years later and he has escaped. Without meaning to, he escaped to Hogwarts, Founders' era.
Set as an AU, sort of after…fifth year? Just as the Department of Mysteries incident, I think.
Spoilers: Books 1-7 probably.
Warnings: ????
Pairings: Godric/Harry/Salazar
A/n: I have this odd feeling this was supposed to take place after fourth year, but since the first draft was lost I wouldn’t know. Oh well, it takes place after fifth year this time. And the descriptions for Salazar and Godric are a bit different from the ones I used in ‘Dear Old Hogwarts.’
Innocence Cannot Be Granted
Chapter One: Mad World
The gray, drab cell held only one occupant. At age seventeen, Harry Potter was the youngest resident of Azkaban, arrested for the murders of sixteen people. He rarely spoke nowadays, silent and withdrawn in his cell. He did, on the rare occasion, heal the other prisoners from certain distances. They were always thankful, though once upon a time they had tried to kill him outside of those walls.
But Harry stayed silent, healing and never responding.
It was a stark contrast from when he was put into that cell at age sixteen, the youngest to have ever been put into Azkaban. In those days…he had screamed himself hoarse and his eyes had blazed with betrayal and anger.
His fellow cell mates around him had grown to need him to heal them after the effects of the dementors, though Harry himself suffered far more greatly. Appreciatively, they even tried talking to him, but he was as unresponsive to their heeding talk, far too gone in his mind. It was a shame, they thought. For they had begun to like the boy they used to target.
The clank! clank! of steel-soled boots echoed down the hall, and many of the prisoners looked up to see the minister walking with his Auror entourage heading for a particular cell. Rufus Scrimgeour frowned, seeing all the aware prisoners in the ward, especially considering it was the high-level security ward that dementors swept through every fifteen minutes. He didn’t know that it was all due to Harry’s healing abilities, abilities that did Harry’s own health no good.
Stopping before the boy, Rufus frowned at how his predecessor had allowed the boy to live so coarsely. If he had been at the trial and even if the boy was still convicted –not that he believed it, contrary to the evidence pointing at the boy –he’d have let the boy live in one of those ‘cupcake prisons’ muggles seemed fond of letting some of their own spend prison time in. A nice warded house, under careful watch, and monitored daily. Living comfortable with full meals and all the necessities, and then some. It wouldn’t do to alienate the boy, after all. He could still be used, and who knew how really useful the boy really was or could be later on? He wouldn’t take chances that he’d completely alienate the boy, though Rufus knew there had to be some measures and securities to be dealt out.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t at the trial and he hadn’t been minister yet so there wasn’t anything he could do until now. Now he just had to play his cards right, if only the boy wasn’t sitting there eerily quiet and unmoving. Merlin, he hoped the boy wasn’t one of the few that were actually insane in that ward.
“Mr. Potter, you have a summons,” Rufus stated authoritatively. The boy didn’t respond, head down and his unkempt hair, strangely not as long as it should be due to the years passing, falling around his face and shadowing his eyes.
He tried again, “You’re an important figurehead in this war, Mr. Potter. We need you out there, giving hope and fighting for the side of the light. If you do this, you’ll redeem yourself in the eyes of the people. In fact, we may even be able to clear the charges against you.”
Rufus wasn’t stupid, as some would say about his predecessor. He was on the boy’s side of course, but the main point is that Rufus was trying to do the best for the people, and do the absolute best he could for his job. He may be on the boy’s side, but he was still a politician. Things had to get done, no matter what methods Rufus used. For the people’s welfare, even if Rufus had to bribe or even guilt the boy into helping, no matter his own beliefs that the boy was innocent.
“Mr. Potter…you did well helping in the beginning of the war. Before you were imprisoned, of course, you were turning the tide for us. We need you now to help us turn the tide again.”
He didn’t want to admit how horrific the war had become. After the boy was imprisoned, things began to look bleak and the war was turning to You-Know-Who’s favor. It was why he was able to approach the boy now with this deal, because they were getting desperate.
The boy suddenly looked up, and Rufus had to hide his flinch at the dead look in the usually vibrant green eyes he’d heard so much about. The boy’s face was pale and slightly gaunt, though not as much as he had expected after two and a half years in Azkaban. Still, a blank melancholy look seemed permanently etched into his face. No emotion and yet at the same time you felt sad just looking at it…
“Mr. Potter –Harry, can you understand me?” Rufus lightened his tone, trying to be gentler.
He looked passed Rufus to the cell across him, Lucius Malfoy staring right back and watching the scene with scrutinizing eyes. Rufus looked back at the blond man, his lip curling. How Malfoy had survived with his mind intact and as aware as he was, he didn’t know, but he’d like to make the man suffer more in that cell than he seemed to not be in.
When Rufus looked back, he hadn’t noticed Harry stretching out a hand and white light surrounding it. In moments, there was an explosion that knocked him and his Aurors back, multiple cells opening and allowing prisoners to escape. Looking back into the cell, he noticed Harry was gone. And the time turner he had been about to drop off to the Department of Mysteries had rolled away from him near to where Harry should’ve been, broken and sand spilling out of the contraption.
Well, he could still salvaged the situation somehow.
+
+
+
+
+
+
Harry landed roughly on the ground, and when he peered out underneath his fringe he saw trees and an encampment. There were several men loitering about, staring at him.
Suddenly, one of them shouted out.
“Demon!”
Harry immediately shot up to his feet and his hands began to crackle with magic. His mind went numb and began to lash out, fighting these people with strange pitchforks and shovels and whatever farming tools were in reach. Were these muggles? It was still a battle situation, however, so Harry would still fight.
“Hold it!” a lithe, beautiful woman with Veela-like features appeared to his side and was holding a wand. There were three others with her, but Harry only evaluated their threat level and then shot towards them, deeming them threats. Surprised, they could only dodge to the side and Harry began to fight with all four of them.
The Veela with white blond hair and amber eyes joined with the other woman with an odd dark blue color for hair and dark eyes. The two of them tried distracting him, while the other two went on the offensive. The male with dark hair and green eyes that were lighter than Harry’s shot off a dark curse at him, while the blonde man with brown eyes tried to disarm him. They were having trouble getting a lock on him when a little girl burst out of the foliage and ran into the middle of the fight, halting everything.
Harry was the first to stop and they couldn’t get advantage of that without risking the girl. However, they were confused when the one they were fighting softened his look to the girl who was crying for them to stop hurting each other. They tensed when they saw him move slowly to the crying girl, watching him carefully as he kneeled down to be closer to her height, still at least a head taller than her. If he did anything suspicious, they’d just have to risk it and curse him.
Harry wiped the tears off her face carefully, aware of all the eyes on him. But he would never hurt her, never the ones who were so young. He plucked a small flower off the ground near him, straightening it and then handing it to the girl.
“Hi,” he said hoarsely. It’s been so long since he’s talked… “My name’s Harry. What’s your’s?”
She looked at him with wide eyes, “M-my name’s Lilienne.”
He felt his heart clenched up, but he pushed the feeling away. “Can I call you Lily? Do you like flowers? You can have this one.”
She shyly accepted it, “No one’s ever called me that. It’s nice.”
He was surprised when the girl threw herself at him and hugged him tight. He didn’t notice the tender smile that he wore as he gazed down at her, though everyone else did. It helped the others to relax a little, though they were still cautious.
A woman stepped out from the crowd, hesitantly walking towards the two. Harry’s gaze snapped up and his face smoothed over, tightening his arms around the oblivious girl protectively. Seeing the way she was being warily watched, the woman smiled gently.
“It’s okay. I’m her mother.”
His face didn’t change, but his arms loosened slightly. Taking that as an okay sign, the woman walked closer and knelt near the two.
“Thank you for not harming my child. The way you gazed at her…there is no way a demon would look that way. You can perform magic though, so maybe not all of it is devilry,” she said, looking at him in awe.
The four Harry had been fighting walked closer, and Harry looked back up with the blank melancholic expression he usually wore.
“Lilienne, we must go. Let them talk, okay?” the woman asked her daughter.
“But I want to stay with Harry,” the little girl wiped her eyes and pouted.
“I’ll see you, Lily,” Harry forced out, his throat still not cooperating with him.
“I will send for some water,” the woman assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder while picking up her daughter. She walked away and the others began crowding around her to ask what was going on.
“You have such puzzling expressions,” the Veela one said confused. “You have a cold look when you fight, expressionless to threats and such melancholy for all other times.”
He did not answer her, staring at her coolly, even with the melancholy permanently etched onto his face. Only his eyes seemed to change the most, though not as often as any regular being would.
“You seem not to want to harm others, as we are assuming you lashed out in defense. We need an instructor for our school, you see. To fill up a post as a defense teacher. You seemed to know your stuff, seeing as how you held up against all four of us,” the blond man filled in warily.
“While we assume this was just a misunderstanding, don’t mistake that we aren’t wary of offering the position. We are just desperate for one to be accepted, this close to start of the term,” the other woman said.
“Who are you?” Harry asked gruffly.
The dark haired man raised his eyebrows, “I am Salazar Slytherin, that is Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff.”
Harry froze, closing his eyes in pain. The moment of weakness passed quickly, making the others uncertain if it had even happened.
“Alright.”
+
+
+
+
+
+
Harry had been taken to Hogwarts, seeing the castle for the first time in two and half years. It was a different Hogwarts, younger, but it was still his.
He had taken a bath, scrubbed himself clean, brushed his teeth, and clothed himself in new clothing. He looked more respectable without all the grime and dirt that had encased his body before, his clothing no longer torn and dirtied. His hair wasn’t filthy any more, but it still fell softly around his face, no longer as scruffy as it was in the pre-Azkaban days. Instead it was sleek and smooth, and just slightly curly. Without his glasses, his eyes stood out more, though the effect was wasted with them as empty voids.
He was clean, gorgeous, and respectable –as was summed up by the astronomy professor.
Started 4/17/08 –Completed 4/17/08