Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any characters, things, or stuff related to it. The plot and a few new characters are mine though.
Summary: Harry gets sent to Azkaban after the Third Task fiasco. Very few believe in his innocence until Voldemort decides to show his face, and right the wrongs of the Order of the Phoenix.
The Dawn's Betrayal
Chapter One
Trial and Error
Harry's last few days had been very rough on him. As he sat on his new bed, he contemplated what had happened.
After he had returned from the Third Task of the TriWizard Tournament, he was immediately swamped by people. Everyone wanted to know what happened.
And then they all caught sight of Cedric's limp dead body that he was holding on to. Everyone backed up a few paces.
Harry looked up and saw Dumbledore running through the crowd trying to get to him. Dumbledore saw the Cedric, and a look of revulsion spread across his face.
His voice rang out clear through the silence that had come about when Cedric was seen. "How could you, Harry? What did Cedric do to you?"
Harry realized something was wrong. All the people here seemed to think that he had killed Cedric.
"Profess-"
Another voice rang out over the silence. "Quiet, boy." Mad-Eye Moody was limping over to the Harry, with everyone crawling to get out of his way.
"But Profess-," Harry tried again.
"I told you to be Quiet!" Moody roared, his eye rolling to take in the scene.
Harry quickly shut up. Moody walked over to Cedric, and started waving his wand over him. "The boy's definitely dead. And the imprint matches Harry's wand. He has Harry's magical signature all over him. It seems Harry's gone dark, Albus."
Dumbledore looked over at Harry sadly, before rechecking Moody's results. After finishing, he looked over at Harry again, with no small amount of loathing.
Harry was detained at wand-point. Moody kept him in place while waiting for the Aurors to come.
After about a half an hour, the Aurors came, along with Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. Fudge looked positively gleeful at a chance to arrest the Boy-Who-Lived.
Harry was locked inside a Ministry holding cell for a few days to await his trial.
The trial itself was a complete farce. Only two of the people Harry once considered friends didn't show up. Hermoine Granger and Ginny Weasley. Harry came to the conclusion they either believed him, or hated him way too much. Harry forced himself to believe the former, because if it was the latter, he couldn't have taken it.
Since only those two didn't show up, Harry saw every other important person in his life, showing their hatred on their sleeves. Ron watched with ill covered joy as he was arrested. Harry could practically see the thoughts running through Ron's head.
'I knew it! I was right! Harry's just a delusional boy whose fame went to his head. Now I can take advantage of this, and make myself famous! I always wanted to be famous. And if I'm famous, then I'll be rich! Rich, rich, rich, rich!'
Mrs. Weasley was crying on Mr. Weasley, wondering where she went wrong. Charlie, one of the two oldest Weasley children was looking murderous. Bill, the eldest Weasley, was looking thoughtful, and very angry. The look of anger on his face was directed at Dumbledore though, not Harry. Bill and Charlie had both come back for the trial, though for different reasons. Fred and George had identical looks of anger etched on their faces, also pointed at Dumbledore. Fred, George, and Bill all couldn't believe Harry would do such thing.
Harry was angry after the trial. He didn't even get a chance to defend himself. They just stated the case against him, sent up witnesses and told all of the information. Then the jury immediately voted against him.
He was sentenced to life in Azkaban for the use of an Unforgivable on another human.
The dementors came floating out of the double doors. Two of the horrible things. The first one unlocked his bindings, and the second one took a hold of his wrists. The dementors then proceeded to clamp manacles on his wrists and ankles.
Harry felt the magic start to drain out of him, once the manacles were in place. After a few seconds, he fainted. The dementors' presence had become too much for him.
He woke up a few days later in a strange outcropping in a hallway. There were two dementors sitting outside of his outcropping. Technically it was a cell, but there were no bars to keep him in place.
Harry stood up, and tried to walk out of the cell. The moment Harry stepped out, a strange force pushed him back in.
An Auror walked down the hallway, and saw Harry fighting to get out of his cell.
"Don't even try it boy. You'll never get out. These cells are created for just that reason. They taunt any person with the lure of freedom, if only they can get past the wards. Which is impossible because nobody can do magic with those shackles on."
The Auror was right. It would drive anyone to insanity to know that their escape was just a few feet away, but was stopped by an invisible wall.
Harry was completely and utterly trapped. He was walled in, in every way. He had no emotional escapes, due to the dementors outside of his door. He had no physical escapes due to the walls and the invisible barrier. He broke down crying.
1 Year, 1 Month, and 7 Days after the Third Task.
Early Morning…
Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, deep in thought. He pondered and pondered, but he could never figure out where he went wrong. How could Harry Potter have become a murderer, right under his nose? Dumbledore prided himself on knowing everything that went through a student of his' mind. But Harry Potter was an enigma. How could Harry have the anger and hatred to create something like the 'Avada Kedavra' curse? Dumbledore was at a complete loss.
The fire flared green and a face popped up. Cornelius Fudge was in the fire, panic on his face. "Dumbledore, you've got to help! They're attacking! Somebody's attacking the Ministry! Help!"
Dumbledore jumped up, and ran towards the fire. "What?! Who's attacking the Ministry?"
"Death Eaters!" Fudge shouted. "Come quick, they're trying to get into my office!"
Dumbledore stood up, and grabbed the phoenix pendant hanging around his neck. He called out to the air, "Death Eaters are attacking the Ministry, my friends, and we must help them!"
Fudge vanished out of the fire, and Dumbledore pulled out a small package of special floo powder. He tossed it in the fire, and it blazed a bright orange color. Dumbledore jumped into the fire, and shouted "The Ministry of Magic, Minister's Office," and vanished in the flames.
Dumbledore flew out of the fireplace, and jumped to the door of the room. Waving his wand, he blasted the door off of its hinges, knocking death eaters away. Dumbledore jumped into battle, along with all of his friends, the Order of the Phoenix.
All at once, the death eaters started running away, to get to the Atrium of the Ministry as per their Master's plan.
Voldemort watched from the center of the Atrium, sitting on the base of the Fountain of Magical Brethren. He heard his death eaters charging down the hallways to get to the Atrium. He stood up to watch as they entered the room, chased down by the Order of the Phoenix.
At the back of the Order, Dumbledore watched as the death eaters ran to the Atrium. He lashed out with a powerful stunning spell, leaving one of the death eaters lying on the ground, and continued running.
Voldemort, tired of just watching, raised his wand above his head. An echoing bang erupted from it, stopping all movement in the hall as they looked for the source of the sound.
Dumbledore looked at the man who made the loud bang. He slightly recognized him, but the cloak hood obscured too much of his face. Albus realized he must be the new leader of the Death Eaters.
Voldemort's eyes sought Dumbledore's. He found them already staring at him. He slid his wand back in its holster, and pulled his hood down. Hearing a gasp from the crowd, he realized someone figured out who he was, and he was placing his money on Dumbledore.
Dumbledore looked into the man's face, and immediately recognized it. It was one of the two faces that constantly haunted his dreams. It was one of the two men who he had taken under his wing and one of the two who had betrayed him.
The man was tall, with black hair going down to his waist. His eyes glowed red, and had an aura of evil surrounding them. If one could not see this man's eyes, one would think that he was a normal person. But one look in the eyes, and you saw death itself.
"Hello Dumbledore, fancy seeing you here."
"T-Tom… how… how is this possible? You… you're dead!"
"Do I look dead to you, old man? Young Harry brought me back to life."
"Harry brought you back? Why would Harry bring you back?"
"Oh, I never said he wanted to bring me back, but he did. He had no choice. He was trapped up against a tombstone, and tied there. His blood was taken from him and used to bring me back. But you wouldn't know that, would you? No, because you condemned Harry without listening to his side of the story! I was hoping to kill Harry, but you did a good enough job of keeping him out of my hair that it doesn't matter. He's probably insane by now, what with how badly the dementors affect him. Oh well, too bad for you. You no longer have the boy 'with the power to defeat the dark lord.'"
Voldemort spoke, emphasizing the last few words.
Dumbledore gasped. "You know!" he nearly shouted.
Voldemort pulled out a clear sphere out of his robes, and held it up to the light.
"Of course I know. Did you really think you could hide something this important from me, Dumbledore?"
Voldemort jumped down from fountain, and raised his wand. "Be glad, Dumbledore, that I didn't decide to raid Azkaban first and release Harry, to see what he wants to do to you. I would have let him have every one of you, because he could defeat all of you. He has enough skill easily. And his time in Azkaban has only strengthened that."
"Why would you release Harry? What good would come of it, besides having another servant behind you? He's not better than all the rest of them."
"That's just it, Dumbledore. He's not one of my servants. He never was. He's an innocent little boy, stuck in the confines of Azkaban. Well, maybe not innocent any more, but all the same. I ordered the killing of the boy, it was my wand that cast the spell, and it was my magical energy put behind it. That sniveling Wormtail couldn't cast an Unforgivable for his life."
Dumbledore reacted as if he had been slapped. He recoiled back, and started shaking.
"Yes, Dumbledore, that's it. Now you realize the implications of your misinformation. My servant among your ranks is a very amazing actor, wouldn't you say. He managed to get you to arrest the boy, without much trouble if I do say so. Alastor, would you mind coming over here and waiting for a minute or two."
Moody walked forward, stopping at his Lord's side. He kneeled down, and brought his lips to the robe at Voldemort's feet. As he stood, his features began to change, melting away. First his leg was restored, and the fake leg rolled away. Then the fake eye popped out, and rolled away as well, replaced by a real one. The broken countenance of a face was restored and youth returned to it. The gray and black hair lightened up until it was a sandy blonde. He stood up slightly taller, and turned around.
Bartemius Crouch Jr. was standing in front of the crowd, although most couldn't recognize him. Dumbledore actually had a look of hatred on his face.
"I can't believe I fell for that. How stupid can I get?" Dumbledore asked, not really expecting an answer.
"Quite stupid. You're you, Dumbledore. You always make mistakes, you trust too easily." Crouch, it seemed, finally spoke.
"But… you d-died… in Azkaban. How are you still alive?" Dumbledore whispered.
"Do you really think my father would really let me rot in Azkaban? Did you think he was so heartless, even to his own family? I guess you did. Well that's too bad that you assumed such things. My father freed me from Azkaban, by replacing me with my dying mother. She would have died then anyways, so my father switched her with me. So I lived and was released, and she died in Azkaban."
"My father kept me trapped for a long time, before I felt the calling of the Dark Lord again. When he contacted me, I fell into his service once again, and from there became a spy among your ranks. You were all fooled when I took Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody's place, because of all the things he did kept you from figuring me out."
A bunch of old thoughts surfaced in Dumbledore's mind. Alastor calling him 'Headmaster' again, instead of Albus. The way he would only drink out of his hip-flask once every hour. All the little things added up now. Dumbledore had a few questions of his own though.
"How long?"
Crouch Jr. laughed. "I've been inside for about two years, now. You fell for it, to use a muggle saying, hook, line, and sinker."
Dumbledore reeled again. That meant that Crouch could have had the chance to alter the magical signature on Cedric Diggory's body. More strange pieces fell into place. Harry was innocent; there was no denying it now!
Dumbledore let out a strangled cry. How could he have been so stupid? He didn't even try to find out if the boy had done anything! He had just boxed him up and sent him off to Azkaban of all places! Dumbledore knew of Harry's bad reaction to the dementors, and that would be nothing compared to being constantly in their presence.
"You know, Dumbledore. I almost pity you. You failed to even try to help the boy. And you were supposed to be the boy's mentor, the grandfatherly figure in his life. And you stabbed him in the back, along with all of these other traitors! How does it feel, Dumbledore, to know that you surely lost your only chance at this war, because you had a single spy in your midst? Because you didn't feel the need to test Harry under Veritaserum? You are far too trusting Dumbledore! It will be your end!" With that last shout, Voldemort and all of the Death Eaters disapparated.
Throughout all of this, someone was watching.
Somewhere else…
"Well, my friends, it seems I will be leaving you soon. I thank you for all of your help. I'm sorry I couldn't help you more, but don't worry, I'll be returning soon enough."