Chapter 1
Harry watched as Voldemort’s body fell to the ground, finally dead. He looked around and followed his friends back into the Great Hall. There in front of him were the rows of bodies of those who were dead. The first person he saw was George. Harry couldn’t continue in, he didn’t want to see who else had died for him.
“Harry James Potter, you are under arrest for the murder of Tom Marvolo Riddle, self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort, and crimes against the wizarding world.” A voice boomed and Harry felt manacles close around his wrists. His head jerked up to see Ron and Ginny wearing smug grins on their faces as they spoke with the aurors that had swarmed the Great Hall. It was at that point when Harry fully realized what had happened. He had been betrayed.
“What’s going on?! Why is Harry in handcuffs!?” Hermione’s voice echoed around the hall. So maybe she hadn’t been in on it, maybe she hadn’t betrayed him. It didn’t matter to him anymore. There was no possible way for him to escape the fate that was befalling him.
Harry had already suspected something like this to happen, had prepared for it even. Fame had always been his fickle friend, had resulted in him being exalted and ridiculed in equal extreme measure. So Harry had prepared. His vaults were consolidated and sealed by the goblins so that only he or a biological child, of which there was none (and if there was, he would have to present them to the goblins, free of potions, which wouldn’t happen), could open it.
He had prepared, he knew that this might happen, and now that it had, Harry shut down. He would not take part in the destruction that was brought to bare on him. He refused to give his betrayers the pleasure of seeing him show any emotion but blankness.
“ACE! Aaaaaccccce!” Harry Potter opened his bleary eyes as his mind registered one of the loudest sounds unrelated to torture since the beginning of his residency in Azakaban. As his eyes adjusted to the surprising amount of light, Harry began to examine his surroundings. He was still in a cell, but the cell was bigger than before and it looked like he had at least one cellmate. And that individual was not human in the slightest.
“Sorry to sound rude but what are you?” Harry asked the being, his voice soft and hoarse from disuse.
“I’m a Fishman. And my name is Jinbei.” The blue, now identified Fishman, said.
“Oh... what year is it?” Jinbei blinked at his now conscious cellmate. This man had apparently been in this cell unaging since before Impel Down’s creation.
“Which calendar do you use? The year is 800 or 1XXX.” Jinbei answered hesitantly. Harry huffed, that answered meant both nothing and everything to him. First thing being that the world had moved on without him and it had to have been at least 2000 years since he had been imprisoned. He lost count after nearly 200 years. That also meant that any knowledge he had of the world and the way things worked was severely out of date.