Barty Crouch, Jr. still got it into his head to scream every once in a while. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hear his thin voice over the howling winds and crashing waves, but Bella tilted her head to listen regardless, the words washing over her like a caress.
He screamed for his innocence, of course, despite the fact that he wasn't—not even close. Bella had seen it in his eyes, when Frank Longbottom lay twitching at his feet, that darkness, that merciless need to do more— Yet now he screamed, a little boy longing for his mummy to kiss it better and tell him everything would be alright.
Other prisoners began to join in too, their howling worse than a pack of werewolves, and Bella laughed, tossing her hair back from her face. She pulled herself up to the bars, ignoring the cold bite of metal against her skin. The Dementors were coming, but for now, she could have this.
Bella tilted her head and listened, hoping. The voice she wanted to hear, the voice she strained so hard to hear—it wasn't there. But of course. Her cousin was her cousin after all and they shared several Black family traits. The stubbornness. Bella felt a smile twist her lips. The touch of madness. Sirius had laughed and laughed when they'd taken him away.
Bella only wished she could have seen it. Her cousin, Sirius, the boy who had left them all with a flick of his hair and a haughty scowl, to go and live with mudbloods and half-breeds and who knew what else— Bella wished she could have seen them break him. The beauty of it was, he had been broken by those who would have otherwise helped him.
She longed to hear him scream. But Sirius was a Black, and Blacks did not scream like children.
The Dementors swept past, a rush of ice and a deep, numbing hopelessness. Bella danced back from the bars even though they didn't slow—they were heading for little Barty, little Barty who was still screaming for his mummy.
Bella cackled but the laughs died in her throat when the Dementors returned. The prison was quiet, but for the wind and the rain and the sea. Her dark hair fell back around her face and Bella retreated, waited.
He would come for her. That was what she had, here in this place. That utter certainty that he would never—could never—abandon her.
Bella wondered what her cousin had to keep himself sane. She breathed in the rank smell of fear-sweat and lost hope. Maybe that stubbornness would be enough. He would keep himself together.
She hoped he'd keep it together long enough for her to put him down. Bella turned on the spot and though she didn't feel gleeful, there was a spark of satisfaction in her chest.
Something to look forward to, she thought.
Author's Note: Written for the hp_girls_100 comm on LiveJournal, for the prompt: innocent.
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