Spring made Carl a bit happier. He would sing songs in Polish, which Bellatrix didn't understand, but found pleasant. In the rhythm of his song, she was walking around the cell.

'Do you know many of them?' she asked. Carl nodded and began another song.

'W niedzielę rano, w niedzielę rano, drobny deszcz pada... a moja dziewczyna, a moja jedyna, ze mną nie gada...'1

Conrad stopped visiting, limiting himself to passing life to Carl through the barred window in the cell door.

'Is he mad at you?' Bellatrix asked. Carl shook his head.

'I don't think so. And I don't know what he could be mad about. It's not the first time I have company here...'

'So why doesn't he come in?'

'Maybe he doesn't feel very good or… damn it.'

'What happened?'

'He's getting me used to. Soon it must be…' Carl got even paler, his eyes shot wide open. 'July.'

'What's wrong in July?' Bellatrix frowned. Carl waved his hand.

'I died in July' he said. He looked like he didn't want to talk about it, but Bellatrix was curious.

'How did you die? Did you starve yourself, like most of prisoners here?'

Carl shook his head.

'I couldn't starve myself.'

'How so?'

'You see, Bellatrix… starving yourself means that you refuse to eat what you get.'

'Uh… yes.'

'So someone who doesn't get any food can't starve themselves.'

'You… you didn't get ANY food?'

Carl nodded.

'No food, no sleep… I wasn't supposed to spend much time here. Just until I died, and it was meant to be a short time.'

'So what exactly did they get you here?'

'For founding a group to teach history, culture and literature.'

'You're joking, aren't you?'

'I wouldn't dare to joke with you. I'm dead serious.'

A silence – a dead silence – fell. Carl turned his head away.

'I wasn't joking' he sighed. 'They wanted me to give away the others.'

'And… this is why they put this curse on you?'

'Not really. They cast it when I tried to escape. Then they were whipping me… until they broke me.'

'You gave your friends away?'

'What? No, I couldn't. I knew that they would kill me anyway, so I thought… I thought I had nothing to lose. I killed myself.'

'How? Did you hang yourself?'

Carl didn't say anything.

'Too… too private?' Bellatrix asked. Carl shook his head.

'No, too much time passed… you just asked about it very early. Before July.'

'So… how?'

'I burned myself.'

This time Bellatrix couldn't say a word. She was just staring at Carl, her eyes wide open. Her cellmate smiled widely.

'You should see your face. You look like you saw a ghost!' he said. This made Bellatrix laugh hysterically.

'But… how? How could you burn yourself?'

'On the straw bed. I had an oil lamp here in the cell, I put it under the straw bed… and in the morning, my body was totally cold. I thought that dead would set me free, but alas, the guard curse made me stay here – as a ghost. And then, they also cast the Phoenix Curse on me…'

'But… but it's forbidden!'

'That's right. Since three years after my death.'

'And this means…'

'…that I'll go through my death again. I'm sorry. I won't be a good companion.'

Carl turned his back at Bellatrix. He didn't want to say anything more.

1 Translation: On Sunday morning, on Sunday morning, it rains slightly, and my girlfriend, and my one, doesn't talk to me. This is an old Polish song (about 16th century)

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