Broken

It was the near the end of summer, but instead of being outside, Harry Potter was inside, stretched out on his bed with a book. The title that was written intricately in silver across the dark blue cover of the book was "Advanced Runic Study". The course was one he had chosen for in his fifth year at Hogwarts, and decided to continue with in his sixth year. He had a quill in his hand and an inkwell on his bedside table, and every few seconds he would dip the tip of the white eagle feather quill into the black ink and scratch a sentence down onto the parchment. His thick, wild black hair was been made even more so for all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration while trying to complete his "How Where Runes Used in Ancient Magic Times?" essay for Professor Mutoh.

Finally, he sighed and gave up for the time being. He put the quill and pot of ink of his bedside table and sat up. He tried to think of a way to ease the tension that knotted his back and shoulders. Then, a solution came to him...but did he dare to do it in the Dursley's house? One shift of his aching shoulders was enough to prompt him to close his eyes and begin the meditative deep breathing. He formed an image in his mind of what he wanted, and felt the prickle of fur start to grown on his skin. A black pelt soon covered his entire body, and he fell to all fours with a crunch and rearranging of bones. His teeth grew longer, sharper, and his eyes changed from bright green to glittering gold. Soon, the boy he had been no longer stood in the middle of the bedroom. Instead there was a majestic, beautiful Black Panther. Harry Potter was an unregistered animagi.

A flutter of wings and a sharp knock on the window startled him out of his deep concentration. He looked up quickly and saw a rather peeved off brown owl on his windowsill. He rushed through the reverse transformation, soon sitting on the ground in his human form. He jumped up and hurried to the window, pulling it open.

"I'm very sorry," he apologized as the regal-looking owl flew into the room and perched on his bed, ruffling his feather importantly.

Harry hurried over to pull of the letter that was attached to his leg, breaking the dark green seal bearing the crest of the Ministry of Magic.

"You can have a drink from my owl's water dish if you like," he told the owl absently as he opened the letter.

Hedwig's cage was empty at the moment; she was out delivering a letter to the Weasley family about his coming to spend the last week of summer with them. The large brown owl dipped its head and flew silently over to the empty cage, perching inside and taking a short drink from the full water dish.

Harry's brow furrowed as he read the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It has come to our attention that the stolen wand you reported has been found, but the circumstances of its discovery are rather disturbing. We would very much appreciate it if you could have your things packed and be waiting outside the door of your house at Midnight on Aug. 25. Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School, will arrive to collect you. This is of dire importance.

Signed,

The Ministry of Magic

Harry's wand had been missing since the night he had woken up from a nightmare about Voldemort with his scar burning like icy fire on his forehead. He had filed a complaint to the Ministry about a stolen wand, and had been waiting anxiously for a return letter for some weeks now. But this was not quite the answer he had anticipated.

"What would the ministry want with me," Harry mumbled to himself as he read the letter over again.

The owl that was in Hedwig's cage hooted impatiently.

"Oh, right, sorry," Harry said absently to it, grabbing his eagle quill and dipping it into the inkwell, scrawling on a scrap piece of parchment.

Dear Ministry,

Of course, I'll be sure to comply with your requests.

Signed,

Harry Potter

He went over the cage and held his arm to the owl, which fluttered into it without complaint. It held stone still as Harry tied his reply to its leg. Then he dug into his pocket for a few little bronze Knuts, tucking them into the little pouch that was also attached to the owl's leg.

"Thank you," he told the owl as he walked over to the window.

He got a soft hoot in reply before the owl spread its massive brown wings and flew off through the window.

Harry sighed and looked down at the letter in his hands. He'd have to go tell his aunt and uncle about this. He left his room and hurried downstairs, passing the kitchen and going into the living room where Vernon Dursley was seated, watching television. He cleared his throat loudly, but got no response.

"Excuse me Uncle Vernon," he said loudly.

His uncle turned to him with a scowl. "What do you want, boy?"

"I've gotten a letter from the Ministry of Ma---from the Ministry," he corrected himself before saying magic, as he knew the very mention of the word would earn him a good beating. "They're going to pick me up a week early for school, tonight." It was a lie, of course, but easier than explaining his missing wand and the apparent 'circumstances'.

"Good, we'll get rid of you early," grunted Vernon, turning away from Harry.

The green-eyed boy took that as an acknowledgement, and sped out of the room and back upstairs. He figured he might as well start packing his things while he had time. It was 4:00, so he had a few hours, but he knew how long it took to pack the massive school trunk.

*****

Professor Dumbledore sat in his office with an assorted group of people. He gave an inaudible sigh and raised his eyes from the eleven-inch holly wand in his hand to regard the people around him. There was Lucius Malfoy, stiff and sour looking. His son Draco stood not far behind him, gazing at his father with utter loathing and contempt. Cornelius Fudge, the present Minister of Magic who, considering his growing unpopularity within the Ministry, looked rightly on edge and uncomfortable. Sirius Black, recently released from Azkaban after Peter 'Wormtail' Petigrew had been captured by the Ministry, with his dark eyes haunted and cold. And an Auror from the Ministry by the name of Orion Thrift, who looked firm and unrelenting despite his angel blonde hair and sky blue eyes.

"With all due respect, Professor," Orion said stiffly, "his wand was found at the scene. I truly think that---."

"Orion, this is not the time," interrupted Dumbledore wearily. He stood up slowly, straightening his robes.

"I think I will go and fetch Mr. Potter. We will continue this discussion when I return."

"Professor," spoke up Sirius, "I was wondering if I might accompany you..."

"I'm sorry Sirius," answered Dumbledore, "but it's not safe for you to be out and about yet."

Sirius looked like he wanted to protest, but Dumbledore never gave him the chance.

*****

Harry sat out on the front porch of the Dursley house, his trunk and Hedwig's cage beside him. He was nervously chewing his lip, and had been for the past hour. His bottom lip was now raw and bleeding slightly, but he didn't seem to notice. The moon was full and high, casting a silvery glow on the street.

"Harry," came a soft voice from in front of him, and his head snapped up.

"Professor," he answered nervously, standing up.

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, watching the green-eyed boy with a solemn expression on his withered face.

"We will Apparate to the outer limits of the Hogwarts grounds," Dumbledore told him finally. "Then we'll take a carriage to the castle."

Harry nodded, not really sure if he should say anything. He gathered up Hedwig's cage and his trunk, which had a Featherweight Charm on it to lighten the load, and went over to stand beside the tall wizard.

"Apparatus Hogwarts," said Dumbledore softly, his wand held out in front of him.

Harry expected Apparating to be like using Floo Powder; mainly, he expected nausea and dizziness. But there was nothing of the sort. The area around him merely seemed to melt away and reform into the dark Forbidden Forest.

"This way," Dumbledore told him quietly.

Harry followed the Headmaster in silence, wondering now at the solemn, almost sad tone to the wizard's voice.

They soon came upon a trail, and waiting for them like a skeleton long forgotten was a carriage. Harry hoisted his trunk up onto the luggage platform at the back, then entered the carriage after Dumbledore. He placed Hedwig's cage on the seat beside him.

The journey passed in total silence, neither Harry nor Dumbledore uttering a single sound. Harry was quick to notice the absence of mischievous gleam in the Headmaster's eyes.

"We're here," Dumbledore said unnecessarily as the carriage stopped in front of the Hogwart's castle.

For once it didn't seem welcoming to Harry, but instead dark and ominous, looming like a shadow before them.

"The house elves will get your trunk and Hedwig for you," Harry was told. So he merely left his things and followed in step with Dumbledore up to the castle. They traveled the candlelit hallways with Harry only a step behind the Professor. The green-eyed boy was surprised when Dumbledore led him straight to his office.

"Sirius!" was the first exclamation out of his mouth when he entered the room. Uncaring of anyone else present, he tore across the room and embraced Sirius tightly. He was surprised at the fervency with which the man hugged him back, almost as if he were trying to protect him from something.

"Harry...have a seat..."

That was Fudge who had spoken, and Harry gave him a cold look before taking his advice and seating himself beside Sirius. He had grown hateful of the man ever since Cedric Diggory's death at the end of fourth year.

He looked around then at everyone else who was present. Lucius Malfoy's presence came as a surprise, but Draco's even more so. The blonde boy had a tortured look on his face, as if this were the last place on earth he wished to be. He didn't recognize the firm-looking blonde man who stood rigidly at the end of the table.

"Harry," started Dumbledore quietly, drawing the boy's eyes to him, "as I'm sure you gathered from the Ministry's letter that we have discovered something rather... disconcerting."

Harry looked confused and somewhat afraid at the same time. When Dumbledore reached into his robes, though, and drew out a wand, Harry's face smoothed out.

"That's my wand," he said calmly.

"We know that," said the blonde man coldly from the corner. "And we'd like to know what the hell it

was---."

"Orion," said Dumbledore sharply, and the man fell silent. He turned back to Harry. "Harry, I'm going to be straight with you. You're wand was found at the scene of a murder. Specifically, the scene where it was confirmed that the use of Avada Kedavra on a respected family of wizard's had occurred."

Harry was chalk white, a stark contrast to his midnight black hair, and his eyes were wide and afraid.

"We preformed Prior Incantatem on the wand, and found that it was the one that was used to perform the curse," continued Dumbledore flatly.

"And we all know," added Orion snidely, "that the use of one of the Unforgivable Curses on another living thing earns you life in Azkaban."

"No!" exclaimed Sirius sharply. "You can't do this! You can't send a boy to that hell pit! Do you have any idea what that would do to him?"

"Sirius, be silent," ordered Dumbledore.

"I won't!" shouted Sirius, getting out of his seat. "I won't stand around and watch while these two cowards lock away a boy in a place no better than hell itself!" He motioned pointedly to Orion and Fudge.

"The law demands it," said Fudge in a nervous voice. "No matter the age, Unforgivables are a life sentence."

"That's right," drawled Lucius Malfoy from the shadows, his first contribution to this meeting. Draco looked at that moment like he would have preformed Avada Kedavra on his own father if he could.

"I didn't do it," whispered Harry in a horrified voice. His skin was so pale now it looked like milk.

"I'm sorry Harry..." mumbled Fudge. He lifted his wand and muttered, "Confindus."

Ropes sprang from the tip of his wand and wound themselves around Harry. He tried to struggled, but only managed to make himself more tangled up.

"No!" shouted Sirius desperately, reaching for his wand, but Orion got there first.

"Stupify," he uttered, and Sirius froze on the spot and fell to the floor.

"Orion that was really not necessary," growled Dumbledore, him eyes flashing dangerously.

"Yes it was," answered Orion firmly.

Harry who was been watching on in horror, got even more frightened when he found the tip of Orion's wand aimed at him.

"Harry...if you didn't do it, we'll find out," Dumbledore told him in a pained voice before Orion spoke his spell.

"Stupify."

Harry's world went black.

*****

Draco Malfoy sat in his bedroom, his face wet with tears and his throat burning from hours of weeping. He didn't know why Lucius had made him go through that, but he never wanted to see anything like that again. Dumbledore looking so old, weary, and beaten as he watched everything in tortured silence. Sirius Black in a rage and storming out in Animagus form once he had been freed from the body bind. And Harry's head hanging limply as Orion brought him out of the room, to be brought to Azkaban that night...

Draco couldn't take it. He would never admit to anyone, let alone his father, how much he loved that boy. His fire, his passion, was Draco's one and only craving. And now, thanks to Voldemort, that fire would be put out, smothered by the pressing darkness of the wizard prison.

Draco's head was in his arms, and his head was pounding furiously. He heard the door open, but paid it no attention.

It was no surprise to him as Lucius Malfoy's voice rang out with the same words it had so many times in more years than Draco could count.

"Crucio."

Draco's body spasmed and he shrieked in agony. His entire body felt like it was on fire, every bone breaking and every vein infused with the most deadly of poisons. His screams echoed throughout the Malfoy mansion.

Then, the pain stopped. And another word was spoken in cold monotone.

"Imperio."

And Draco Malfoy faded into the semi conscious state of the Imperius curse, as he had been almost every day for the past seven years...

*****

When Harry came to, he was surrounded by darkness both around and inside him. The floor beneath him was cold, damp stone, as was the wall that he leaned against. But he huddled against them as if they were the softest, securest blanket he owned. Fear chilled him right to bone, even more so when he heard a rattling breath and a shadowed figure pass by the cell. A Dementor, Harry's worst fear. He felt warm tears trickling down his face, but didn't care. He knew without checking that he carried no wand.

Movement in a corner caught his eye, and only then did he realize that others occupied the cell with him. He caught sight of three pairs of wild eyes, and his own clenched shut at the sight. He trembled when he felt cold hands on him These were the first steps to what he couldn't know was the breaking of his very soul....