This is another of pippi55's challenges, Nebulaphobia - Fear of fog.
The credit goes to my new beta, Talking-Rock, who made my story readable. Meanwhile in Azkaban
The great fortress of Azkaban stood proudly on the island in which it was named after. It was always cold on the island of Azkaban, cold and foggy. It was a consequence of the Dementors' constant presence. Azkaban was widely known as the best prison in the whole magical community; the worst criminals had been left there until the end of their life with the only company of Dementors and the Aurors who were unluckily assigned to the job.
Most of the said criminals were Death Eaters: the Dark Lord's supporters, and a big part of them were insane. It was because of the Dementors, they had the ability to absorb happy memories and the positive emotions attached to them, this process was slow and agonizing for the victim.
In one of the high security laid a young woman, of course by her appearance you couldn't guess that she was 24 years old. She was deathly pale as if she never was exposed to the sun, she was thin as a stick and her cheeks were sunken. She once had black hair but now it was so filthy and dry that the color was completely unrecognizable. She had been one of Voldemort's most trusted servants before his demise; she was promised greatness but received nothing in the end.
Pansy's dark eyes fluttered open and she quickly pulled herself into a sitting position and shivered from the unnaturaly cold temperature of her cell and her fear. It was foggy in her cell again. She hated the fog, it took away her ability to see and she was left vulnerable to any assault. If a Dementor decided to feast a little more on her soul or an Auror who wanted to punish the nasty Death Eater for her crimes, she wouldn't be able to see them in time.
It made her fear the fog, this painful uncertainty was depressing. Granger wouldn't have survived here for an hour, and Pansy chuckled hoarsely to herself at the thought.
It's been exactly half a year since Draco's death, her lip curled up in disgust. Her school love had decided that he didn't like his life as a prideful pureblood and ran away, when her lord died the bastard came out of hiding, expecting to be greeted as a hero.
Pansy and her friends made sure he would land at the same place as them for treachery, the irony was quite amusing. He was mocked by them through those years in hell, but he died in an 'accident' half a year ago. The Aurors claimed that he succeeded in a suicide using an old iron rod he found in his cell.
That was only a cover story of course; she heard his screams of agony and his pleads for mercyas the Aurors tortured him and then the sudden silence, worried voices that broke the silence moments later. Pansy was able to get her hands on a news paper after that incident and read the story they sold to the public. She sneered, he had it coming, if it wouldn't have been the Aurors it would have been them, the Death Eaters.
Pansy sighed as she caught sight of the nearing Dementor and tried to lie down and sleep, one day they would be coming after her, Pansy smiled, all she had to do was wait.