AZKABAN

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Harry Potter is not mine

They brought us to a huge island. All you could see for hundreds of miles was open ocean. It was almost suffocating to feel that isolated and out of sync with the outside world. In the center of the island, there was a stone wall so high that I couldn't see the top no matter how far I craned my neck.

A large redheaded Auror approached the wall and tapped it in five different places along the side. The stones shifted to the side, forming a large archway.

They shoved us through the arch, and on the other side, I took in the sight of miserable-looking prisoners dressed in gray and white striped uniforms. Their faces were paled, and you could nearly make out every bone beneath their skin. Their eyes were sunken, making them appear like skeletons. They looked to Sirius and me with sad, sympathizing eyes, and I shuttered.

About a couple hundred feet inside the wall was the main prison. Its impenetrable walls stood high and proud as they overlooked the raging ocean. The Aurors dragged Sirius and me through the building. Inside, it was cold and damp. Dementors patrolled the hallways, giving the entire place an air of gloom.

Sirius and I were pushed into a room off the main hall. There, they handed us each a striped uniform and instructed us to change. We did as we were told, and we were then led down to the far end of the prison.

We were told that it was the "Extremely Dangerous" wing of the prison. No one dared go there, save the Dementors.

At first, it appeared that the wing was nothing more than a long stone hallway; the walls were nothing but brick, and no prisoners were to be seen. After walking for several minutes, the Aurors stopped in the center of the hall. One of them reached out and tapped the stone with his wand, and a door carved itself out of the stone. It then slid to the side, and I was pushed inside. I turned around quick enough to see them shove Sirius into the cell across the way from mine before the door to my cell slid back into place and sealed itself shut.

I was left in almost total darkness. The only light was a small floating orb in one corner of the room. It provided enough light for me to take in what few accommodations I had. My bed, which was really no more than a thin straw mat and a severely tattered blanket, lay on one side of the room. Across from it, there was a bucket, which I supposed was so that I could relieve myself. It wasn't long before I discovered that I had roommates—small rats that chirped and squeaked and scurried across the hard stone floor. I shivered. Dementors kept a constant patrol on this wing, and their presence was felt throughout every cell.

I lay down on my mat on the floor, praying that this would all end soon.

-oOoOoO-

Over time, I began to understand how Azkaban had attained such notoriety. The Dementors were horrible. They took great joy in causing others to relive every terrible event of their lives. Everything was freezing from their presence. It wasn't a normal chill; this coldness was a coldness that came from our very core and froze us from the inside out. It was an inescapable coldness that followed you wherever you went.

While the prisoners in the other wings of the prison were forced to work outside as punishment, they embraced it as their one opportunity to be away from the Dementors' influence and enjoy the warmth of the sunlight across their skin. We in the "Extremely Dangerous" wing, however, never saw daylight, and we stayed inside under the constant watch of our hooded prison guards. They did it so that we would "contemplate our crimes" as one Auror had put it.

In truth, the Dementors weren't the worst part. The worst part was the food, or should I say the lack thereof. We would go sometimes two or three days without so much as breadcrumbs to eat. What food we did get was old and rotting and was better left uneaten.

All any of us could do was dream of food. There were times when I couldn't sleep because of the rumbling in my stomach.

It wasn't long before I became sick. Even if we did get a piece of decent food, such as a square of bread, I couldn't hold it down. I could feel myself growing weaker and weaker, to the point where it was a struggle just to rise from my mat for morning roll call.

I always looked forward to morning roll calls, for it was the one time I saw Sirius. It was the only thing that would assure me that he was still in the cell across from me and that he was alright (well as alright as one can be in Azkaban prison).

One morning, we stood outside our cells, waiting for our numbers, which were given to us upon our arrival, to be called.

Sirius gazed at me with worried eyes, and I knew that I must have looked horrible. My illness had caused me to grow pale and thin. I wasn't getting sleep, so I imagined that I must have looked like the walking dead.

"You look awful," he noted. His tone then grew quieter, "We need to get you out of here," he whispered.

I shook my head. I had a trial in just a few days, and with luck, I would be able to relay the truth to the people and get both Sirius and me out of this horrible place.

"I think I have a plan," Sirius told me, leaning across the hall so as not to be heard.

"No," I replied weakly. "My trial is soon, and I'll be able to get us both out of here without you risking your neck."

Sirius shrank back onto his side of the hall for the remainder of roll call.

Before long, my sickness grew worse. My body was now racked with chills and cold sweats. I could barely stand for more than a few minutes, for I became lightheaded and dizzy. I knew that I needed to get out of this place and to a doctor, but that was nearly impossible until I had my trial.

I had three days left, and they passed by so slowly, it might as well have been three years. It had been over a week since I'd actually been able to keep some food down, and I hadn't had a decent sleep in almost four days.

Eventually, the time did pass. The morning of my trial, two Aurors came to fetch me from my cell.

"Time to go," they told me impatiently as they waited for me to rise from my mat. I tried to push myself up, but I had grown so weak, it was a long struggle. "C'mon!" they urged.

The other one then came over to my side and gave me a stern kick in the ribs, trying to lift me off the ground. A sharp pain coursed down my left side. I gasped and felt my breath choke.

The second Auror then came over and hauled me to my feet. They put handcuffs on my wrists, and then proceeded to lead me out of the prison.

When we got outside, I was so overcome by the brightness of the daylight that I was forced to recoil. I squinted, and my eyes well with tears. I gazed around at the prisoners that were outside on work duty. They looked just as pale and thin and skeletal as they had when I had arrived, but something was different.

I now understood the sadness in their faces and the sympathy in their eyes. I knew why they were pale and thin and skeletal.

Their faces followed my every move as the Aurors led me to the wall that surrounded the prison.

Once we were beyond the confines of the prison, we Disapparated to London.

Sorry that this chapter was a bit of a downer. I promise that this story won't be all sad. It'll get happier before too long!

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