Introduction
Harry lay there on the cold hard ground. This was his third week of imprisonment. He sat alone in a highly secured stone cell; stuck in the middle of a desert surrounded by dementors. He'd been counting the days by carving marks in the wall, using a rusty pocket knife he had found in his cell.
Harry felt a burst of cold fresh air as his cell door was flung open. He saw a figure fly past and hit the wall. The cell door slammed with a bang that rattled Harry's brains. He took a deep breath and stuck out his tongue. Harry had begun to miss the taste and smell of fresh air. His eyes began to drift over to the unconscious body lying next to him. It was still early morning so he could not yet see the face of his new cellmate.
Harry hadn't gotten any sleep the past two nights. All he could do was worry. What are Ron and Hermione doing while I'm sitting here alone in the dark? They must know I am gone. Have my two best friends forgotten my existence? Daybreak will mark the end of my third week in Azkaban Prison.
These last thoughts chewed up the last piece of Harry's energy, causing him to fall into a deep sleep; a slumber so deep he would not awake again for quite some time.
Harry opened his eyes only to be blinded by the sunlight streaming in from the window overhead. His eyes recovered to reveal a somber looking figure sitting against the wall with his head between his knees; showing a messy bundle of platinum blonde hair. Harry knew in an instant that this head belonged to one person only, Draco Malfoy. At this Harry heaved a sigh of disappointment.
He poked Malfoy in the shoulder, but he did not stir.
"Come on ferret, wake up!" Harry poked Malfoy again; still there was no response. Harry cautiously tilted Malfoy's head back and watched his eyes roll back into his head. Harry drew back in surprise causing Malfoy's head to fall limply to one side. Malfoy is either dead, sleeping, or unconscious. I hope it is not the first option. Though, I wouldn't feel too disappointed. But I can't afford to be accused of another murder. He shook Malfoy vigorously to no avail.
"Hey, watch it!" Harry shouted pointlessly as an un-respondent Malfoy fell on top of him.
"Herr, gerroff me!" Harry, thoroughly disgusted by the fact of Malfoy being on top of him, shoved Malfoy off. Malfoy rolled across the floor and hit his head on the wall. Harry looked over to see him stuck in an awkward position with blood dripping from his skull.
"Bloody hell!" Harry rushed over to where Malfoy lay and hastily tried to dry off the blood with his shirt. The shirt was of no use. Blood continued to leak from Malfoy's "big head". Malfoy's hair was now tuning orange, stained with blood. Son of a parselmouth! I wish I knew a spell for this. Where is Hermione when you need her!
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