I decided to try something different this time. Hope you like it! (Okay, and who loves the new quick edit feature?) And thanks to my two proofers!
First Night
You don't know what to expect the first night. You know it will be hell, of course, but you don't know the extent of its wrath. After all, you are young and brave, and deep inside you cling to the hope that someone will figure it out and set you free.
You couldn't have been more wrong.
But that first night, you huddle your knees to your chest and keep your beautiful head held high. You know you're innocent, and surely the truth will surface at the trial. People know you; the joker, the charmer, the boy with the wild barking laugh and glimmering dark eyes. You are a top student with a bright future ahead of you and all you want is to surround yourself with love and friends.
It is that foolish hope that lets you survive the night. A night plagued with dark screams and murderous howls.
Shivering in your cell, you tuck a strand of ebony hair behind your ears and try to focus on Him. He is smart and knows you best; you've been close friends since you were eleven years old, lovers since you were eighteen. You certainly trust Him with all your heart, and had He been the one sitting here in prison, you'd know instantly that it was a mistake.
"Why can't you trust me?! You're always out- always busy- gods Remus, why can't you-"
"I told you Sirius; work for the Order-"
"Is it really? Sometimes I wonder."
Fighting back a whimper, you focus on something happier. It takes a while, and you have to think back quite a ways, but then you remember the day you turned eighteen. He had come to you, his eyes glowing softly and face painted with a light blush. At the time you hadn't realized His intent, but when you found yourself wrapped in strong arms you had known that it was a forever - a promise of eternity that only He could give you.
"Padfoot," He breathed into your hair, arms circling your waist and holding you close. "Happy birthday." You were sitting on your four-poster bed, His frail body leaning over yours as He slowly licked the skin of your neck. Something inside of you churned, but it wasn't a horrible feeling, more a sensation that left you dizzy in its after-affect.
"Moony?" You choked out, fingers dancing lightly over His back to finger His sandy-blond hair. "What is-"
"Shh."
Outside your cell a chilling wind passes by, drawing the warmth from your body. You hold your knees closer to your chest and try to hang on to the memory of his caress, but the coldness seeping into the room seems to drain it from your mind. You want to scream suddenly, because you can't recall what has previously made you so happy. All you know is that it was about Him, and that it had made your heart feel weightless and had caused your breath to catch in your throat.
That is only the beginning.
Soon, you find you can't remember the light in His eyes when you asked Him to live with you, or the loving way He would laugh at your outlandish remarks. Little things, things that mean so much to you, but are now lost. The worst part is that you can't help but remember the darker times -those first mornings in the hospital wing, when He refused to look at you; the scorn with which He burned your being when you betrayed His secret- times you want to let go of.
"Innocent," you whisper over and over to yourself that night, rocking back and forth on the cold stone floor. "Please, Moony -not Prongs or Lily - it was Wormtail, please." The hours tick by in darkness, until you don't know how long you've been there. No one comes to visit, and no one comes to discuss details for a trail. Instead, you are subjected to a night which seems to last forever.
". . . innocent . . . "
End