Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything you recognize.
Chapter 1: Vicious
If anything was for certain - and there wasn't much that was these days - it was that Azkaban was lonely. They said some went mad within a few days. I had already been here for a couple months and I didn't feel insane. It was almost like Father had known I would get thrown into Azkaban and he had been conditioning me for it. The solitude didn't bother me the way it did others.
I had gotten word yesterday that my trial would be today. It was unfortunate really that my trial would be a large one. The Wizenmagot was likely to be full of people who had lost someone in the war. A war in which I had been on the wrong side.
I lay down on the cold rocks of my cell and closed my eyes. The sun was rising, but I could hardly see it through the tiny slits in the wall of my cell. I could feel the cool, ocean breeze, though. It tore right through the thin prison grab I was wearing. I curled up on my side, trying to conserve my warmth. Two months in Azkaban and the cruelty of it still surprised me. We were in solitude every hour of every day. The dementors alone were enough to suck the life out of you without the prison guards constantly yelling at you and hitting you. I got to come out of my cell twice a day, once for a shower, and once for a routine check. Each time I was escorted by two guards, and each time they managed to give me more bruises than I felt I had skin for.
The wind howled through my cell and my teeth started chattering. I tried to make them stop, but once the cold had set in, there was nothing to do about it. Sometimes the cold was enough to make me want to break out of Azkaban. I got up, deciding sitting on the ground wasn't making me any warmer. I started to pace my cell, waiting for the cold to leave my bones. I couldn't feel my fingers any more. I thought maybe the wall facing the sun would be warmer, but when I placed a hand on it, it was cold as ice. I hissed, drawing my hand back. I nearly screamed when someone began banging on the metal door of my cell.
"Sirrah Safiq!" A voice reverberated through the walls of my cell. "Prepare to be bound." I briefly wondered what would happen if I didn't prepared myself, but quickly prepared anyway. It probably wasn't anything good. I heard a muttered 'petrificus totalus' and then I couldn't move. The door to my cell swung open, and two prison guards in gray robes stepped forward. They were both men who looked bored out of their wits. One of them levitated my body while the other one disabled the charms in my cell so we could disapparate. The one man threw me an disinterested look, while the other one sneered at me. I was just glad they didn't hit me. It took them a full five minutes before we were ready to apparate, and by that time it felt as if my toes would fall off, they were so cold. Finally when they had decided they were ready, we disapparated with a sickening pop.
When we arrived I couldn't see for a second. There was too much light, and it was warm. I felt a little sick from the contrast. When I finally could see I almost wished I could go back to not seeing. Unfortunately, it was worse than I feared. It seemed anyone who had ever lost anyone to Voldemort was there. Perhaps it was because everyone had lost someone to Voldemort. It wasn't as if I was hadn't lost someone to him. Just in a short glance I saw Neville Longbottom, at least three Weaseleys and Minerva McGonagall. I would get the kiss for certain. I tried to keep my eyes forward, but I couldn't help looking around. It seemed half of wizarding England had shown up. They all seemed to be yelling at me or yelling about me. It was too loud. At least when we had, had Death Eater meetings they had been relatively quiet. The Chief Warlock called the trial to order. I took my place - in chains - in the middle of the room. My bare feet tapped against the marble floor, and my teeth still chattered a little bit.
"State your appeal." The Chief Warlock said in a raspy voice. I fixed my eyes upon a piece of the wall and took a deep breath. I couldn't look at all these people while I made an appeal for my soul.
"I, Sirrah Safiq, file a plea of pardon for my war crimes including, using the dark arts, using the unforgiveables, bearing the Dark Mark, and murder. I would like a place in the reformatory program for Death Eaters. I believe I can become a valuable asset to your program."
"And why is that?" A voice from the middle of the room. I spotted him instantly. Red hair, redder face. Ron Weaseley. Sitting beside him was Harry Potter, with an unreadable expression upon his face.
"I have knowledge concerning surviving death eaters and there whereabouts." I said calmly. Another witch stood up, higher in the circle. She angrily brandished a scroll in her hand. Her eyes were beady, and she might have been pretty if she weren't trying to get my soul sucked out of my body.
"She is well known as one of Voldemorts most faithful followers. She only wants to save her own skin. If we let her into the program she will surely return to the Death Eaters." I didn't offer up an argument. I didn't have anything to prove to them I wouldn't. The verdict was made quickly. The kiss it would be. I was led out of the room and I somehow managed to keep my head up straight. If there was one thing I could handle well, it was disappointment. As I was walking out I saw the boy with scar. He looked relieved. As we apparated back to Azkaban I felt my stomach drop, and it wasn't just because of the apparation.
The reformatory program for Death Eaters had been headed up by Lucius Malfoy but was now run by Harry Potter. As far as I knew only four death eaters had been accepted into the program. The rest were still hiding or had gotten the kiss.
I had known that it would be a hopeless case for me when I appealed. I had just hoped turning myself in might help my case.
I sat down in my cell and sighed. I would get the kiss tomorrow. I was a little sad, but I knew it was likely that this would happen. I wondered briefly about what soullessness would be like but moved onto better things shortly. I tried to think of a time I had been happy. It was hard but I finally found a day that I had been happy during. I had been twelve years old. It was Christmas and my parents had just owled me to tell me that I would have to stay at Hogwarts for vacation because they were 'busy'. I spent the entire break alone. I ate alone. I read alone. I played outside alone. It was the happiest time of my life.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember every second of those two weeks. I remembered myself into a reverie. It wasn't such a bad place to be. It was better than crying or screaming. I had heard other do that. One of the witches across from me had been sentenced for the kiss a week ago. When she found she screamed for an entire twenty-four hours. That nearly drove me crazy. It wasn't unusual for this to happen. For some reason soullessness inspired a desperation in people that death simply did not. I was nodding off to sleep when an explosion rocked my cell.
I stood up quickly trying to orient myself. A hole the size of a door had been blown clear through the wall. Outside it was night, and the ocean spray slicked my skin. I saw two wizards on brooms swoop in through the hole. In flew Amycus Carrow and Anton Dolohov. Amycus sneered at me in his typical greeting.
"Sirrah, so good to see you again." Anger bubbled in my chest. These blithering idiots. Anton tossed me my wand and I caught it deftly. The wand fit back into my palm as if it had never left. Anton grinned at me with what I can only describe as idiocy. They thought they were doing me a favor. It was almost comical really. I could just see the trophies they were already handing themselves in their minds. 'Anton Dolohov, former unknown Death Eater, breaks Voldemorts right hand out of Azkaban!' I saw red. Without blinking I silently threw the killing curse at Dolohov. His face of death was surprise. I was so angry, and I wasn't entirely sure why. I looked at Carrow. His mouth formed a perfect 'o'. Then his eyebrows knotted in rage.
"I told you before, I am out." I growled and held up my wand. He threw a few half-hearted curses my way, but I deflected them easily, without breathing a word. He knew I was the better dueler so he jumped on his broom and flew out. He yelled curses at me, but I hardly heard them.
Unfortunately for me I turned my back on him. I would have thought he had even a shred of honor that kept him from cursing at someone with their back turned, but I should have known better. I had done it to others a thousand times. I guess what goes around, really does come around. As he flew past the hole in my cell he cast sectumsempra at my back. Too late I twisted out of the way. It hit my left arm and ribcage and gashes spread across them like wildfire. A strangled scream escaped my lips. I fell to the floor of my cell and I felt blood seeping into my clothes. I started to black out just as aurors started rushing in. My eyes fluttered shut as someone started examining my arm.
I woke up at St. Mungo's. My arm ached terribly and my ribcage felt as if a car had run into it. As my eyes opened I realized I was surrounded by aurors. I closed my eyes again. I couldn't stand their abrasive stares. I didn't recognize any, but I had closed my eyes after about two seconds. Honestly, I was hoping known of them recognized me. The door to my room opened loudly, and my eyes snapped open. Someone I did recognize – Hermione Granger – walked in. Her hair was twisted into a severe bun, and her brown eyes scanned the room methodically. Her eyes pierced into mine and her mouth set into a thin line.
"Everyone except Merlin, get out." Her voice was commanding, but I could hear a little bit of the genius girl from Hogwarts. Aurors started to exit the room quickly. Robes rustled and boots clicked. Hermione came somehow managing to look interested and annoyed at the same time. "Ms. Safiq?" She asked me as if to check I was alive. I suppressed a very large sigh.
"Yes, Miss Granger."
"We need to know what happened at Azkaban two nights ago." I thought it would have been obvious, but perhaps not. There was the problem of Anton Dolohov lying dead in my cell.
"Carrow and Dolohov blew a hole in my cell – presumably to help me escape. They threw me my wand. I killed Dolohov. While Carrow was escaping he hit me with sectumsempra."
"If they were helping you escape, why did you kill Dolohov?" She asked. She raised an eyebrow to a height I formerly though impossible for eyebrows to reach. I blinked. Did they really think I hadn't meant at all what I said about wanting to be in the reformatory program for Death Eaters?
"I didn't want to escape."
"And why is that?"
"I had been sentenced for the kiss." I held onto the s of 'kiss' for a second too long. She seemed to think on that for a while. Merlin – the other auror seemed to be laughing at something, although I couldn't see at all the humor in this situation.
"So you were going to stay even though you knew you would get the kiss?" She asked.
"I suppose. If the choice was get the kiss or be a Death Eater again then yes. I told them; I'm out." Hermione hid her shock well, but the little twitch in her eyebrows told me she wanted to raise them. She scrunched up her nose slightly while she thought. I saw a glimmer of the former girl she had been.
"I'm going to recommend you go to the Wizenmagot again for a retrial." She didn't give an explanation. She simply stood up and walked out with Merlin fast on her heals. I relaxed back in bed and looked at the ceiling. I didn't really want to go the Wizenmagot again. It would just get my hopes again only to, in the end, get the kiss. The door of my room opened again. I opened my eyes, expecting Hermione Granger again. A healer walked in, looking angry, but scared. I really hoped I hadn't killed someone she loved because I didn't really fancy getting killed by a healer. It seemed very poetic and not at all the way I wanted to go. She attended to my arm and I watched her surreptitiously.
"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're all worked up about." Her voice was nasally, and had a hard edge to it. I didn't respond, simply trying to relax. "Unlike you, I would never hurt someone." Ah. I had hurt somebody she loved. The jibe hurt less then it probably should have. In fact I was completely used to this kind of treatment. She left the room probably feeling very brave for talking up to a Death Eater. I stared at the arm she had been working on and sighed. The Dark Mark. Would I ever be rid of its evil? Probably not. I remembered when Voldemort had given it to me. It had hurt like mad. I remembered the feeling of when he called us. Sometimes I woke up screaming because I thought I had felt him calling me. The thought was terrifying – that at any moment he could come back and claim us again. Thankfully he was dead. I closed my eyes and tried to fall back to sleep. If at all possibly I wanted to spend the last hours of my life in peace.