J.K. Rowling's characters.

-----

Screams filled the darkness. Screams of fear, pain, anger and betrayal. Silence never touched the cell. If it wasn't Harry's screams then it was another prisoners.

The lowest level of Azkaban, saved for those who used the unforgivables and had been death eaters in service to the dark lord. Harry saw no faces but could hear the matching screams to the voices of those he had seen: the Lestranges, Lucius Malfoy, Dolohov, Crabbe and Goyle.

Cold ice snatched at Harry's fingers and he heard the rattling breath of the guards approaching. A scream escaped Harry's own lips but it was barely a whisper. His throat, now burned from the constant noise being pulled out of it, was no longer of any use to him. Harry wretched out the pool of blood that had been filling in his mouth, it's splatter staining the unseen floor and drips adding to the noise of the hall. A bony finger stroked his cheek before Harry fell unconscious.

Harry gulped down the stale bread and water. The hot soup had soothed his throat slightly although the pain of every swallow still coursed through his neck. His stomach growled in appreciation at the first meal he had in a week. Although the hunger was there, it did not affect Harry as it should have; years of training at his Uncle's prepared Harry for the hunger he would feel in prison, for once Harry was thankful of his relatives.

Loud clacking heels thundered down the hallway. The repetitive sound of a repeated spell echoed through the cells. The "cleaner" came to Harry's cell, pointing his wand at the boy.

"Scourgify." The man said, and Harry felt a scouring pad rip over his skin, wrenching away the dirt. He wrinkled his nose at the slight sting but then quickly returned to eating. The guard carried on without a second look.

The chains that covered Harry tightened on his limbs. A blinding light coursed its way down the hall. Cell doors were rammed open and a voice swept over the prisoners.

"Free time. All stand outside your cells in single file."

Harry copied the other prisoners and followed the line down the corridor. A large concrete hall with a few battered furnishings came into Harry's sight. A heavy door slammed shut behind them, locking the prisoners in the room. The line of chains were released but the cuffs around their feet were not. Prisoners hobbled forward, settling themselves down on broken sofas or the floor. Everyone kept their distance from the walls which were lined with dementor, but looked wistfully towards the barred windows, glad to see the sky for the first time in weeks.

Harry moved and sat by himself in a corner. He watched the death eaters play cards on the floor or over a broken piano, or they discussed ideas with each other. He listened to their murmurings and stared at the faces that showed long forgotten emotions- well only the sane ones. Many walked around in circles, not taking into account anything in the room, eyes blank along with their souls.

One of the mindless drabble walked past Harry before turning around and staring back at the boy on the floor. The man slowly lifted his hand with his bony finger pointing straight at Harry.

"Potter." The man simply said, before turning back and continuing with his circles.

Those who had been doing something, abruptly stopped. Their faces snapped to the small boy in the corner and their eyes stared down at him. A scraping of a chair filled the silent room as Rudolphus Lestrange waltzed over to the boy.

Harry did not stand but simply looked up at the man towering down over him. Lestrange's hand shot out and grabbed the back of Harry's head and he ruthlessly pulled back Harry's fringe and stared at the lightning bolt scar.

"Harry Potter." Lestrange spat out. "My wife is dead because of you. A dementor's kiss. A…." Lestrange had been tugging violently on Harry's head but quickly stopped. A dementor stepped forward, noticing the prisoners disruptive behaviour. Lestrange jumped back, letting go of the boy, weary of his guards and fearful for his mind.

Lucius Malfoy left his seat and walked over to Harry, his cold grey eyes scrutinized the teenager.

"Mr Potter, what a pleasant surprise, I must say I did not expect to meet you here. Care to explain?" Not a hint of hatred of anger was in the tone of the aristocrat, merely pure curiosity.

Harry gave a wry grin up at Malfoy. "Life imprisonment for use of the killing curse."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "My, my, my, Mr Potter. I didn't know you had it in you. Who did you kill?"

"You don't know?" Harry frowned. The man shook his head with his own frown at the question.

"It's ironic really, you might laugh if I told you…. Or on second thought, you'll try to kill me." Harry said, his eyes staring at the blank wall.

"Well, I'm sure we could all use a bit of amusement when in our predicament, please do tell us."

"Voldemort."

Silence. The death eaters stared at Harry, unbelieving.

"You're right, that is funny." Malfoy said with a slight smile.

"No! No. We would know if the dark lord was dead. He can not die." Rudolphus screamed out. His arm raised up to punch Harry. Harry flinched and looked away. When no hit met his face, Harry turned back to see Malfoy holding Lestrange's arm back.

"Calm yourself Rudolphus. If you do not believe the boy, take a look at your mark."

Lestrange did as he was told, as did a number of death eaters in the room. Rolling up their sleeves, they revealed the clear skin with a mere black blemish covering the space where the dark mark once was.

Rudolphus sank to his knees, staring at his arm. Malfoy hastily let go of the broken man and strutted over to Harry.

Harry tensed, expecting to be strangled any minute, instead Malfoy merely sat down next to him.

"Thank you Potter." The man said before falling back into silence.