Chapter 10.... Prison Life
One week into his stay at Azkaban, Harry Potter recieved a care package, oddly enough, mostly muggle items, notebooks, pens, pencils, a blanket, a copy of Hermione's book. He also recieved a copy of "The Count of Monte Cristo," which read inside:
"Rettop, siht dluohs pleh uoy ni erom syaw neht eno."
(Read above backwards, or rather flip them around).
Harry flipped through the book... and sure enough.... there was a rock hammer.
And this written on the page preceding the hammer, which happened to be in the notes on the text.
"Uoy wonk eht sceps fo taht lleh sa llew sa enoyna, uoy nac od ti."
It was signed, "Terref."
Harry also recieved, candles, matches, a Weasley sweater, green.... to match his eyes (of course, or the color they were in happier times), and a nail file.
It is mid-day, so Harry used the few hours left of daylight to read.... "House Elves in there Natural Habitat," by Hermione J. Granger.
He read till sunset, and layed down to sleep, with the onset of darkness.
In the course of the following weeks, Harry finished both Hermione's book and "The Count of Monte Cristo," had started to knick away at the molding of the stones beneath his slab, also Harry started his memior. His memior of his life, as far back as he could remember till present.
One week till Harry's third month in Azkaban and the guard shift changed. Eleven am, Harry's gruel, bread chunk, and bowl of water are pushed through the slot at the bottom of his door.
Harry's experience as a guard made the concotion and maggoty bread all the more unappealing, from his day's of preparing and distributing the slop through the doors. The only plus side of the maggots was the protein they provided.
The only time a prisoner's door was opened was during the yearly ministry review, the release of an inmate (or incarceration of one) and occasionally if a large package was sent (torn apart first though), or if someone bribed the ministry to visit an incarcerated (possibly insane) loved one, former comrade or friend.
And those instances hardly ever happened, and only for those who had large sums of money to easily dispense to the ministry.
Four months into Azkaban, Harry recieves a rather large package, a manuscript (obvious because the wrapping is in tatters) delivered by none other then Terry Boot.
"Here's you frigging mail. Potter," Boot spat as he threw the manuscript at Harry.
"Finally, I've gained acess to you, the creep, who is the reason I'm assigned to this dump!"
Harry just looked up from his position, crosslegged on his slab, just in time to get a fist in his mouth.
The back of his head slammed into the stone wall from the impact of the Auror's fist and he lost conciousness.
The next morning, Harry awoke and took a survey of his beaten body, numerous, broken or fractured ribs, possibly fractured jaw, four teeth knocked out on the rightside of his mouth, concussion, lots of pain, all over, and very heavy bruising, along his jawline, face, stomach, back, legs, arms and hands, he couldn't see all of it, but he certainly could feel it.
Harry attempted to stand after his inventory of his battered body, but collapsed onto his slab, in extreme pain. All he knew was he had to keep conciousness, so he mulled over and wrote some of his memoir, the package laying forgotten upon the floor.
One month later, Harry is sitting in his cell burning bits of paper for amusement, his door clicks open. Harry stands up, on his guard.
"You've got half an hour," says the guard.
"Thank you," Hermione replies, as he locks her into Harry's cell.
Harry stares at her in shock and awe. She puts up silencing and privacy charms to escape possible eaves droppers.
"Hermione? Is it really you?" Harry croaks out gruffly.
"Yeah."
"How?"
"Bribes, Harry, you should know there policies."
"How much?"
"Fifthteen thousand Galloens."
"That was my years salary as an Auror!"
"I know, and my book was quite succesful, I used the revenue for this."
"Why?"
"To see how you liked my new book, and to see you."
"How? Your...."
"I know, but they don't," she smiled devilishly.
He tentatively walked over to her and hugged her. She was solid, no hallucination. "I love your book. It's about us, right? You, me and Ron?" He breathed in her hair.
"Right. What happened to you, Harry?"
"What?"
"Harry!"
"Guard, don't worry about it. I'm fine."
"Who did this to you?" He walked over to his slab, sat down and pulled out his notebooks, every single one he recieved at the beginning, full.
"My memior, my life from as far back as I can remember till yesterday. Edit it, publish it, if you can find anyone who will publish something written by a murderer."
"Oh, I will find someone, I promise you, Harry."
"Thank you." He pulled her ear as close to his mouth as possible and whispered as quietly as he possibly could, "Can you put an everlasting dry charm on my book?" And he handed her "The Count of Monte Cristo."
"You didn't need to whisper so softly, my hearing is above average," she winked before putting the charm on Harry's book.
"Thank you." And Hermione chatted about Ron, Remus and the outside world, as her best friend held onto her for dear life, untill she had to leave.
But she did not leave empty handed, she left with all of Harry's things, but the moldy, old blanket, his book, and the sweater.
Hermione's book was released to critics acclaim one week after her visit to Azkaban.
AN: Here is chapter 10, eleven is called... I won't tell you, it'll give it away. Thanks for the reviews, well rather review... well so far, for chapter 9. thanks again to my cousin for posting this, and this time review from your own name.
