Child of Azkaban

Chapter Seven

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

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Lily looked at her husband of two and a half years, James Potter. He was looking tired and worn out from all of the work he had to do as an Auror. She walked to him and gave him a hug that spoke miles. "Lily, I don't think I can get Harry out of Azkaban." He whispered defeated, holding his head in his hands. She picked his head in her hands and said, "James, it's okay. Maybe it was for the best." James looked at his wife like she had grown two heads. "How is it for the best?" He asked bewildered. She looked at her husband with understanding and said, "James, what if he really had a piece of You-know-who in him? He would have been a danger to Oliver. People would hate him." James nodded his head agreeing with his wife. "I guess he would be a danger to Oliver and us if he does what he did a while ago. Maybe it is for the best, and the people already hate him thanks to the daily prophet." lily looked at him with confusion. He searched in his pockets and brought out a shrunken form of the daily prophet. He unshrunk it with his wand and gave it to her to read. She gasped at the headline:

     "Boy-who-lived's brother, found to be he-who-must-not-be-named."

Earlier today our sources deep within the ministry said that Harry James potter contains a piece of the dark lord's soul inside him. He has been sentenced to Azkaban indefinitely and put behind bars for probably the rest of his life. We appreciate the effort the ministry is putting into the sentencing of Azkaban on the man who terrorized the streets of London.

More information on page seven.'

Lily sighed and said, "See James, I told you. He is something else. Our Harry is gone." She whispered as she wiped stray tears from her face. "Harry my sweet baby boy." She whispered in a defeated tone. "You are right Lily flower. That monster has Harry's body. Our sweet little boy is dead." He whispered back as they held each other for comfort. And just like that they forgot about their son and focused on their other one, their 'savior', while they locked the real chosen one in prison.

Miles away on a lonely island laid a triangular prison. Oldened due to the moss growing around it, because of many years of use. In it was a lonely boy of age 6 curled in a bill calling for his mother to come and get him. "MOM! please." He cried out as the black-cloaked figures approached him. He heard his mother and father saying they hated him and he was a disgrace. He saw the faces of all his loved ones calling him names and telling him they don't love him. Finally, the black-cloaked creature moved on to the next miserable prisoner. He heard deranged cackles and turned his face squinting his eyes through the bars to see a young woman. Her face was sunken in and her black untamable hair all over her face. He was sure she would have looked nice, had she not been to this miserable prison. He crawled to the corner of the room and huddled drawing his head in between his legs trying to get some sort of warmth.

"Who are you?" The woman in the next cell asked. Harry looked at her peculiarly before answering the question. "I am Harry Potter." Bellatrix Lestrange looked at the boy with wide eyes, Never had she thought the light would put one of their own in Azkaban, never the less a boy."This just proves how corrupt they are.' She thought. The Potters were known to be supporters of the light how could they let them put their child in this hell? She then came to one conclusion. The child is not as he seems.

"What did you do to get out here child?" She asked the frail being. Harry by this point was crying tears of anguish from the after-effects of the dementors. he looked up from his position and said, "I hurt my brother." She highly doubted that was what he did as they put him in the most feared prison in England. "Are you sure?" She asked trying to get him to spit the truth put. He nodded his head and started shaking his arms in hopes of getting them warm, his actions were futile against the prison cold that penetrated the hearts of many. "How did you do it?" She asked her curiosity burning.