"That's right, deary... it'll be over soon..." Healer Sarah, as Caith later learned to be his healer's name, brushed Caith's hair and such, trying to make him look as good as possible.
Caith is extremely pale. "The trial... They're gonna send me to the dementors, aren't they?"
She stops. "Please, Caith. You need to calm down. You'll be just fine."
He looks away from her. I'm right, though.
Caith walks from the trial, a dementor leading him and another walking behind him. He's crying. His trial was enough to make grown men cry, even without the dark escorts. Just a month... Just a month... A whole month?
The dementors waste no time devouring the little happiness that Caith had. His thoughts start on the trial... So many people that he caused pain... Then move onto his early days, when he actually listened to Father...
Every now and then a memory from the past few years would slip in, something that he knew Father was doing, that he longed he could've stopped, when he simply sat and watched, or waited at home for Father to return. He hated those the most. They were proof of his weakness, of his inability to control anything.
Sometimes his thoughts would turn to Zaira. He soon lost all hope that she could be happy somewhere, even though she never did anything to hurt anyone. She's somewhere with Malfoy... he's hurting her... controlling her...
He forced himself to stay in his human form, even though he knew it would block out at least some of the pain. Too many death eaters were there. Father can't know about my fox... that's the one thing I can keep from him... I won't let him take that away...
To Caith, the month seems more like a decade, but it finally ends. He is met outside by an extremely worried Healer Sarah. She comes to him as soon as she's allowed and flings her arms around the shuddering child in a motherly hug. She gives him a rather large chocolate bar as soon as he understands what's happening.
Sarah takes him back to Snt. Mungo's, where he spends the next week recuperating.