Okay, I don't really know how this works, so... I guess this would be the disclaimer! I do not own Harry Potter, or anything that JK Rowling created. If I did... well, then I'd die a happy, happy girl!
Summary: A man awakens in Azkaban one day, with no memory of how he got there. His family is gone... and he thinks he may have killed them.
November 1, 1981
Azkaban Prison was unusually loud today.
Screams from prisoners always tore through the air, attracting the hunger of the looming dementors. They'd gather at the gates of a particularly vocal cell and depart soon after, leaving a whimpering, sobbing, moaning huddle of skin and bones in their trail.
But on this November morning, the dementors swooped all about the prison, over-excited by the energy. Boatloads of prisoners were arriving, many screaming, some sobbing, others near collapse.
Those wizards assigned to bring the prisoners in did so quickly. Bony, skeletal hands reached from between bars of cells, grabbing at fluttering robes, begging for mercy, screaming their innocence, screaming curses at everyone, screaming for their master, the Dark Lord... Throughout the day, the dementors regained some semblance of control, swooping down the dark, wet corridors, quelling the screams, leaving mainly sobs in their wake.
By the time the wizarding guards were departing, only one voice could be heard, screams echoing down the halls.
"Helen! Helen! Where's Helen?"
By the time night had fallen, most of the newcomers had screamed themselves out, and now fell into a cold, shivering stupor in their cells. The mist that filled the prison was punctured by only one voice, still screaming: "Helen! Helen!"
By the next morning, the wizarding guards had had enough. No number of dementors outside his cell could completely stifle his screams for long, and he had begun mixing other names in with his shrieks. The guards drew straws amongst themselves, and Grimes was the unlucky bastard who had to venture out into the halls and cast a silencing charm around the prisoner's cell, where he could scream all he wanted without disturbing the other prisoners. (If they even noticed his screams, mad with their own despair.)
Fist gripping his wand, mind searching for a happy thought, Grimes slouched along the corridor, shoulders hunched, ready to defend himself against a rogue dementor or an extra long, determined claw from one of the inmates. He considered stunning the wretch, to put him out of his own misery for a bit, so pitiful were his calls.
"Helen! Helen! Where are you? Willard!"
Stopping in front of the cell, Grimes gazed down in disgust at the ragged man who had flung himself against the bars. His eyes were wild, completely mad.
Shivering with cold and the poison that seemed to drift in the air in that place, Grimes raised his wand to cast the spell when the prisoner's bony hand shot out and gripped Grimes's wand arm in a death grip. Shocked, Grimes was yanked forward with surprising strength.
"Where is Helen?" The prisoner had gotten to his feet and was asking the question directly at Grimes, who was more than a little disturbed. "Where is she?"
Grimes tried to shake the grip off, but the prisoner's claws dug deeper into his arm, nearly piercing his skin.
"Helen! Helen!" The prisoner began screaming again. "Willard! Abigail!"
"Impedimenta!" Grimes bellowed. It wasn't the spell he'd planned, but it was the first one that popped into his head. The emaciated prisoner flew backwards and smashed into the wall, crumpling to the ground. Grimes saw, with only a hint of relief, that he hadn't killed the man, merely knocked him out. Yet even now, he whimpered and mumbled names. "Abi...gail... Abby..."
The shock wearing off, adrenaline racing through his veins, Grimes found himself growing angry. Now he had to write up a report, in case this horrible prisoner... number 900487... never woke up, and the coroner found a large lump on the back of his head. It would be easy to say the prisoner was just one of the many hundreds who had accidently killed himself while going mad with despair, smashing his brains into the stone walls of their cell. But Grimes knew he'd have trouble sleeping if he simply wrote this episode off, so he turned and stormed away, completely forgetting to cast the silencing charm in his huff.
September 1, 1966
"Roper, Helen!"
It took a few seconds before she could get her feet to move forward, but before she knew it, Helen was walking toward the stool, trembling from head to toe. The witch who stood behind the stool stared down at Helen through her spectacles in a rather impatient manner, but Helen couldn't force her legs (which suddenly felt filled with lead) to go any faster. She turned and sat on the stool, afraid she'd be sick in front of the thousands and thousands of people who were watching her. The witch behind her put something over Helen's head which fell over her eyes, blinding her, and Helen couldn't stifle a whimper. In the distance, she could hear someone snicker unpleasantly.
Bellatrix, Helen knew.
"No need to be so scared, little one."
Helen gasped loudly, and Bellatrix's snicker turned into a laugh that Helen could hear even though her ears were covered. But Helen could have sworn a small voice spoke right into her ear.
"My, you're quite terrified today."
Bellatrix would scare anyone, Helen thought to herself.
"Yes, she is something of a handful, isn't she?"
Helen's eyes widened, even though she couldn't see anything.
Can you... can you hear my thoughts? She felt foolish for even thinking it.
"Of course. I am a thinking cap, you see. Now. Where shall I put you?"
Helen's cold fingers gripped the sides of the stool. Please, nowhere near Bellatrix.
"I see she left quite an impression on you. No need to worry, Slytherin would not be a good fit for you, anyway. Too cut throat. But I see you love to read."
Somehow, Helen felt herself relax slightly. Yes... I love books.
"A knack for learning. Especially languages. Quite gifted there. Perhaps Ravenclaw would best suit you."
Helen didn't have anything to say to that. Ravenclaw sounded much more agreeable than Slytherin. Helen felt sorry for anyone who had to join Bellatrix's house.
"Compassion, yes, that I see quite clearly. Compassion and fairness and a desire to help others. Hufflepuffs have all those things, although..." And here the hat paused. "I see bravery in you, too."
I didn't feel brave on the train today, Helen thought glumly.
"Stood up for that silly Lockhart boy though, didn't you?"
Yeah, but only before Bellatrix and her friends came into the carriage.
"Bravery nonetheless."
I don't want to be brave right now.
"Very well, child. It seems your future lies in...
"RAVENCLAW!"