Lightning crashed in the sky above as a storm raged on. This weather was on par for the Prison of Azkaban, though. Deep in the bowels of the prison were two brothers whose cells were side by side, as was everything else in their life. The two men were worn down to the bone, dressed in black and white, now dingy gray, striped shirts and torn gray pants.
The cells themselves were built from a harsh slate colored rock, cold and unforgiving. They reeked of stench and stale salt water, as the prison was surrounded by water on all sides of the island. Inside each cell was a small cot bed, a single metal toilet, and a rectangular barred window, which never closed, to let the sea air in and out as it pleased. Waves would wall up and splash through the window, soaking the prisoners inside to the bone, not that the guards cared. The two men were sickly pale with matted hair and sunken sallow eyes, with an almost hollow look in them.
The younger of the two brothers shifted in his cell, back against an interior wall, and croaked out to his brother,
"Brother? Brother, are you there?" He called out, desperate to get an answer back from the deafening silence. He almost sobbed in relief when he heard a reply. A parched voice called out,
"Yes… Yes I'm here…"
"Rodolphus, I can't remember! Why can't I remember? What did she do to us?" Rabastan cried out in abject horror, as memories flashed before his eyes, all rushing back at once.
"To us? What do you mean?" Rodolphus maundered, still dazed from his own memory filled stupor.
"Can you remember anything?" Rabastan begged of his brother, who was separated by the wall between them. He was so close and yet so very far away.
"I remember Bellatrix. I remember she would keep giving me a potion for a headache reliever... It wasn't a normal potion, I don't think."
"What do you mean?" Rabastan pressed on, determination thick in his voice. He would figure this out if it was the last thing he did. Moments of clarity did not last very long in a place as horrid as The Prison of Azkaban.
"She would give it to me every evening, and it was like I would become her living puppet. I had no thoughts or actions of my own anymore. I couldn't fight it as much as I couldn't fight an Imperio."
"Who made the potions, Rodolphus? We need to know who made them!" Rabastan begged again.
"She did. She always did." Rodolphus snarked out.
"Think Rabastan, think hard. Why are we in this place?"
"Because we attacked the Longbottoms… Oh merlin, we attacked a child... A mere babe..." He sobbed outright in raw despair. He felt sick, if that was even possible anymore.
"This had to be her doing. We would never..." Rabastan tried to rationalize their actions.
"I think... I think she slipped us a different potion. Those potions that she gave us... They weren't headache relievers, were they..." Rodolphus came to a conclusion.
"No, I don't think they were, either."
Faintly, they could both hear Bellatrix Lestrange's mad cackling. They shivered in disgust, both at her madness and manipulation, and at the new-found memories of the haunting actions that had made to a one-year-old babe.
"Rab, I think I'm going to get sick!" He retched up what little gruel he had had to eat the day before.
In a cell a few away, was a dog, The Grim itself, huddled into the cot, listening in on everything they said. Sirius Black had a lot to think about. Was it the truth that he was hearing? Did his cousin really keep her husband and her brother-in-law under an imperio like potion? Did they attack the Longbottom Manor, not of their own free will? What did that mean? Were they innocent then? All thoughts came to an abrupt end as a dementor ghosted by the row of cells, causing all encompassed in them to shiver in fear at their worst memories being dredged up to feed upon.
It was in late May, when Azalea was healthy enough to play outside again. The weather in the Scottish highlands was starting to get nice, and she was outside with Cassiopeia on a bench nearby, planting some flower seeds into the ground with her gardening tools, the ones Arcturus picked out. Cassiopeia cast a quick tempus and realized the time.
"Azalea, it's almost 10:30! We have a Healer appointment soon, we have to go now!"
"Okay, Auntie Cia, I'm coming now."
She gathered her things to carry them back into her room, setting them down inside where they belonged, before gliding down the stairs to be at Cassiopeia's side. They aperated to the Leaky Cauldron and then made their way through muggle London to St. Mungo's for her upcoming appointment. Overall, the appointment went well. She no longer needed to rely on nutrient potions as heavily as before and was healthy enough even to take the Oculi Medicus potion as well, now that there would be no lasting damage to her body from it.
After her healer appointment, they had just returned to the manor when the floo came to life, and a head stuck out.
"Lady Cassiopeia, are you there?"
Augusta Longbottom was in the fireplace, calling out for her.
Cassiopeia replied,
"Yes, I'm here. Come on through!"
Out stepped a rather tall woman with deep hazel brown eyes and ash gray hair, held up with a series of silver pins. Upon her head was her signature look, a very much alive looking vulture hat. She was a very stern appearing woman with a personality that seemed to match.
"I need to talk to you about Neville's progress, I fear he's worse off than we had first imagined..." she trailed off when she spotted the smallish child in the room, taking notice of her surroundings for the first time for real.
"Come, come, sit with me in the parlor, we have much to chat about it seems."
Augusta gave a cursory glance over at Azalea, now fiddling with the hem of her clothing in nervousness at the intruder.
"Yes, It seems we do. Lunch and a spot of tea?" Cassiopeia smoothed along.
"Of course. Zilly!" and she waited momentarily for the elf to pop into existence.
"How can Zilly be helping Lady Cassiopeia?" The small creature squeaked out.
"Bring out some tea and finger sandwiches to the sitting parlor. Bring Azalea some pumpkin juice too, I know she's grown rather fond of it. Lady Longbottom and I will be having something strong; serve us one of the stronger black teas."
"Yes, Lady Cassiopeia, I'll be getting right to it. Is there anything else?"
Once they were settled down in the parlor one of sets of chairs and low tables, Azalea began to play with her basic rune blocks that she had gotten for Christmas prior, quietly making and destroying sequences paying attention closely to what worked and what did not, not paying any mind to the two grownups talking. Well, not much anyway. Lady Cassiopeia seemed pleasantly surprised at the intrusion, so she didn't register the stranger as a threat. Azalea had come to learn to trust that Cassopiea and Arcturus would never, intentionally or not, cause or bring any harm to the small girl. It was rather refreshing, as she quietly reflected on her short but hard life that she had lived though already.
Once the tea and sandwiches were served, the quiet chattering halted while they ate, the two adults making bits of small talk here and there, watching as the little girl played. She had moved on from playing with the runes to reading a book that one of the house elves had brought for her from either the library or her room, probably a book Arcturus had told her about, or was on the list of books that her tutors had made for her. She was well on her way through the reading materials for first years and nearly towards level two reading materials. Andromeda and Ted Tonks were really pushing her forward, in all the best ways. She just hoped it wasn't too hard, that child always had her head in a book anymore. Between the practical magical lessons and the fighting lessons from her two tutors, the runes lessons from Arcturus, and her mannerisms lessons from Lady Ironwood, the child would soon be well-rounded, catching up to her peers if not passing by them.
Soon the real conversation to be had, began.
"So, Cassiopeia, when were you going to tell me you had a child? They cannot possibly be yours. So, where did you find this little one? She's so young, she must be, what, six?"
"No, actually. She's almost the same age as your Neville. In fact, you've probably known her your entire life without knowing it. That, my dearest friend, is Azalea Potter. The very one and only girl who lived."
Cassiopeia knew she was really laying it on thick, but she was enjoying herself greatly. Augusta gasped quietly, ever so shocked. How had she gotten her hands on this child. Shouldn't she be with her family? She had more questions than answers.
And so Cassiopeia rehashed the same story she gave Arcturus, about how she was in Diagon Alley gathering potions ingredients for an experimental potion when she ran into the girl, literally. She explained about the neglect and abuse at the hands of her muggle relatives, and explained that she had officially adopted her in the muggle world quietly, so as to not draw alarm to a missing child, not that it appeared anyone would notice anyway…
"The muggles, you did take care of them, correct?."
"Yes. Let's just say they were dealt with rather effectively."
"Good."
"Now, onto the real reason you're really here. You never drop by unannounced, especially just to make idle chit-chat. Is everything okay with Neville?"
"How, ever, did you know?"
"You wouldn't be here unless it was anyone else."
Augusta shot her a concerned look, and glanced over to Azalea. It was the only emotion that briefly passed across her face before she schooled her sentiments again.
"Can I confide in you? Would you mind casting a privacy bubble charm? I wouldn't want little ears to overhear sensitive information."
"Go right ahead. Azalea? Why don't you go read over on the chairs over there? You'll be more comfortable anyway."
"Okay Auntie Cassiopeia!"
They both watched as the child picked herself and the books she had around her up, and moved to a comfortable wicker chair near a window. After Azalea moved, she cast a privacy bubble charm over the two of them. Lady Augusta waited until it was cast before turning back to Cassiopeia.
"I think Neville's magical core is becoming more unstable. His accidental magic is becoming less and less powerful, but happening more often. I think the torture causes undue harm.
"Would you want me to look at him? I don't have much healer training, but I do know a little?"
"You can try if you want as long as it won't cause any more harm to that young boy. He has suffered enough in his life already. Such a shame, that one. Losing his parents that young, that way. Although, I'm guessing you would have an idea of what I'm talking about, raising that one there."
"I would recommend calling in my personal Healer. She's under oath to never disclose who or what she treats for privacy reasons. We wouldn't want word getting out that a Black family member has their hands on the beacon of light of the wizarding world just yet. No, I'll floo call her, or give you her floo address if you would like."
"I'd like her floo address, please. Thank you."
She looked at the time and sighed.
"I must be going, Neville will be waking up from his nap soon. He gets worn out very easily these days. I would like to introduce the two of them one day soon. I think it would do both of them some good."
"Yes, I'd like that too. Alice and Frank were good friends of Lily and James, I'd like to think in a perfect world, that they would all be alive and well, and they'd be like cousins."
"Yes, I'd like to think so, too."
"Well, I must be going. Azalea, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope to see you again soon, little one."
She looked up from her book briefly.
"It was a pleasure to meet you too, Lady Augusta."
She turned back to her book, not a care in the world.