Writing for Hogwarts Challenges & Assignments - Term 13, Assignment 4: Survival Skills - BYOB, Task #1: write about someone moving into a new home.
Welcome to Azkaban
The magical binds were so tight that he could feel them cutting into his wrists. A blindfold covered his eyes, blocking out the world around him. The air was cold, and imbued with a sense of hopelessness that made him tremble.
So this was Azkaban.
He had heard tales, of course, but they had never quite managed to capture the pure despair that hung over the wizarding prison. It was heavy, suffocating.
And now this was his home.
He gulped and tried to keep his head high as the jeers and taunts reached his ears:
"Scum!"
"Another soul for the Dementors to feed on!"
"Welcome to hell, big man!"
After a few more minutes of walking, something small and pointy — a wand, he assumed — prodded his back, making him jump.
"To your right," said a sharp male voice.
He complied with the command, and his bindings and blindfold were removed at last. After blinking several times, he realized that having the blindfold off wasn't much different than wearing it — everything was still rather dark. Eventually, however, he was able to make out the objects in his cramped cell.
A folded beige blanket sat atop a small cot in one corner. Unfortunately, the cot didn't look as though it would accommodate his size, and a toilet in the opposite corner likewise looked like it might crumble under his weight. Aside from those things, there was nothing except for some dark grey walls.
While he had been busy trying to get his bearings, the metal door to his cell had clanged shut. It echoed with a sort of finality that made him shiver more than the oppressive atmosphere did.
"Enjoy your stay, Hagrid," the man said. He hesitated, then added, "A uniform will be brought to you shortly. There weren't any big enough for you on hand."
Hagrid merely nodded, unsure of what to say to that.
The man departed, and as his footsteps faded away, a Dementor floated by. It stopped outside of Hagrid's cell, rattling ominously, and the half-giant shuddered again. His head was suddenly crammed with bleak thoughts—no matter how hard he tried, he could not conjure up a single happy one. Finally, the Dementor moved on, and he let out a sigh of relief. Though he was fond of magical creatures, that was the one creature he couldn't find it in himself to appreciate.
Hagrid looked around the cell again, then grabbed the blanket from his cot. It was thin, but it would have to do. He spread the blanket onto the damp floor, curled up into a ball, and wept. Hopefully, Harry would soon figure out his clue and discover who had really opened the Chamber of Secrets. He wasn't sure how long he could last in here.
Word count: 466