A/N: So I wrote this fic after a long spell of not writing. It's not great, but I decided to share it anyway. It's sort of a repost. I have no beta. All sentence fragments are intended.
Warnings: insanity
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Prompt: Animal
No one really thinks about it, but when you cage a man and deny him the company of other men, you make him less than a man. First the silence gets to you. All you want is someone—anyone—to talk to you. You don't even care what they say; you just want them to say something. After that, it's the lack of touch. You don't notice it when you're out there, but people are always touching each other. You shake hands, hug your mum, slap your best mate on the back, and a million other things. When you're here, in this tiny room with nothing to keep you company but your thoughts, you notice the lack of touch. You notice the lack of everything.
Over time, it gets to you. You go stir crazy. People think the dementors are the worst part of Azkaban. Let me tell you, the dementors aren't a picnic, but they're not the worst thing. The worst thing is the solitude. You start talking to yourself after a while to beat back the silence. Then you'll start hugging yourself and rocking back and forth in some gruesome imitation of what your mummy used to do when you were still in nappies. Then comes the laughter. You try to fight it, but you can't. Everything's just so funny. You weren't even supposed to be here. If you'd just changed one thing you'd be at home living your life with people talking and touching and living all around you. Instead you're here and you can't leave and it gets so bad you start to want the dementors to come because at least they're alive and you're not all alone. They bring up your worst memories, but it's the only way you remember voices and touch even if it's yelling and beating.
If you cage a man like an animal, he'll become one. I wonder if I'll have any man left in me when I get out of here or if I'll die in here alone and inhuman. I can't remember what my own face looks like anymore. I wonder what any face looks like. I wonder how long I'll remember what a face is.
A/N: This could really be any Azkaban inmate. As I was writing it, I really thought of a combination of people (Sirius, Bellatrix, Rabastan, Rodolphus, Barty Crouch Jr., and a few others). I picked Rodolphus to list this fic under because we know so little about him outside of fanon. It gives us a lot of room to play around with him in J. K. Rowling's sandbox.
Please review. It's nice to know that someone's reading. I'd love to hear what you thought of the fic even if it's just one word, so don't be hesitant to leave a review.