The Daily Prophet

Sorry for the long wait...but this story is changing right before my eyes and it's a bit difficult to keep up with the changes. I may have to revise some of the other chapters soon.

So...hope you like it!

Hum...english is my second language, so please point out the errors so I can correct them.


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Harry Potter, despite having every reason not to be so, was happy. Yep.

Well, there may have been a bit of residual anger at Dumblybore...and those fools of the Ministry...and most of his old Hogwarts “friends”...To be honest, it was more of a blistering, murderous rage than a bit of harmless anger, but that shouldn’t surprise any of the recipients of his ire. They had, after all, brought it upon themselves.

But, anyway, he was at last free, not only of Azkaban, but of the stigma and endless obligations and expectations that came with his despised title as icon of the Light. He was free to be less than perfectly moral, righteous, and the overall knight-in-shining-armour routine. He could, and would, at last unleash his Slytherin nature and show it to the world, rather forcefully if it came to that. He could be anything he wanted to.

Harry laughted. Freedom was such a precious thing...more addictive than anything he’d ever tried, more tantalizing and perfect than anything he’d ever met before. It was better than pleasure, better than power, better than fulfillment and even happiness. It was pure bliss.

But he was digressing.

Only minutes ago he had been giving his statement to the press, and he was already inebriated of freedom.

‘Too much, too fast’ he chuckled, smirking to himself. Just as he liked it.

He got up from the grass and looked around. He’d apparated to some secluded park, he hadn’t got the slightest where. He didn’t particularly care; all he cared about right now were the light breeze blowing through his hair, the strong smell of the very grass and earth calling to him, the light sounds of nature around him.

But enough fooling around, he decided. He had made quite a statement, and in less than twenty-four hours even his wizarding-world secluded friends would know about it, of that he was sure.

He had things to do, places to visit, and traitors to hunt down.

‘Oh, joy.’ He muttered. ‘Not half an hour away from Azkaban and my to-do list is already too bloody long to my liking.’

First things first, he had to get his weapons back.

He may not have been a Slytherin while in Hogwarts, but he had certainly been one away of her watchful gaze.

And no Slytherin would ever venture unarmed in the kind of places he was going to. Hell, no Slytherin would ever venture unarmed, full stop.

He already felt the longing pull of his second wand, calling to him. And he could almost smell in the air the light taste his Smith and Wesson left after a good round of shooting. His arms felt nude without the slight weight of the hidden knives.

And those were just his basic weapons. He’d have to get the whole lot if he was to get around all those chores.

He grinned happily, and apparated away.