On to the eighth chapter! Now, as for the one question that I posed to you guys last chapter:

The idea of the beast that I described in the beginning of chapter 7 was based off of the Cù Sìth, which comes from Scottish Folklore. They are considered a harbinger of death, and would escort souls to the afterlife. Most interestingly (for me) is that sometimes, while hunting, the Cù Sìth would let out three howls that could be heard for miles. Whoever heard those howls would have to reach safety by the third howl or else be overcome with such terror that they died.

Anyways, thanks for providing some guesses sousie, jeanpaulreddy93, and Kharneth666! Don't be surprised to see more questions like this in the future!

Update 12/24/18 – Some light changes made, no real changes to the content.

On the Wrong Side of Sanity

Chapter 8: Relief and Repose

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

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Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

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You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
-Maya Angelou, Still I Rise

Something odd was going on, I was sure of that. The Dementors hadn't been freed to roam the halls for much longer than was usual. I wasn't sure what they were waiting for, but in all my time here, this had never happened before. With as little as was going on here on a daily basis, any break from normal was interesting to me, though I was too jaded to waste the energy to get up in hopes it meant a visitor or the like. I was currently in bed, just waiting to feel the chill before escaping into someone else's thoughts.

After all, a change from normal was not always a good thing.

Sound echoed from down the hall and so I began to sink into my mind before truly noticing that the sound was different from what it would normally be. Instead of the usual cries of despair and tortuous thoughts, there were the clicking of hard-sole shoes and murmurs of interest from some prisoners that were aware enough to notice. The clicking of the shoes echoed loudly; coming closer with each second.

I wasn't as curious about it as I might have been when I first arrived, so I didn't bother getting up to look out through the bars. Instead, I simply stayed where I was, staring at the ceiling above me with my hands behind my head. I refused to look over even when the clicks stopped nearly right outside of my cell.

I hoped I looked like a badass.

"Mr. Potter."

The only thing that moved was my face, where a smirk spread its way across. Or maybe it was just a stupid grin, I couldn't tell. It's not like I had been able to practice it in front of a mirror like some purebloods did, which I had found out about during my mental explorations.

I was truly enjoying messing with the guy…Auror…guard…or whatever he was. I was pretty sure that he didn't understand that, either. That, of course, just made it all the more fun.

"Um, Mr. Potter. Can you hear me?"

God, this guy must be right out of training; he sounded so unsure of himself.

A few more moments of staring at the ceiling in contemplation, and then I slowly sat up. The man that was standing outside of the cell was young, that was obvious. He was also easy to read. His face easily showed how relieved he was that he didn't have to enter the cell to make sure I was alive and coherent. His uniform also showed that he was, perhaps, not even through with his training yet. His robes were of the trainee white instead of the Auror red, if that was still the system that they used since poor Mrs. Heftwright was thrown into Azkaban. Or was it Miss Bauxely? I could never keep all of the names straight in my head. It didn't matter all that much anyway. Mrs. Heftwright was long dead, and little Miss Bauxely wasn't sane enough to care.

"Mr. Potter, er, Harry Potter. I'm here to serve as escort." It rather sounded like he was reading from a script. The trainee shifted where he stood, obviously waiting for some kind of response from me. Then I realized that I had been staring at him this entire time. No wonder, he likely thought I was completely mad. Perhaps I was, but who cared? I enjoyed his nervous ticks for a few moments longer before nodding my head to him. It was time to leave this awful place.

I honestly didn't even care where they were taking me now, just as long as it was out.

Simply seeing the bars to my dark cage open was…indescribable. Amazing. I felt a surge of gratefulness towards the young trainee who had been stuck with this job, although I knew that I shouldn't have. They were a part of the system that had locked me up for so long to begin with.

My gratefulness quickly subsided into simple satisfaction as soon as I stepped out of the cell. Freedom from that dull place felt…good. A lot of things, actually, but good was a decent enough way to sum it all up. The trainee Auror eyed me with apprehension, probably too used to hearing how to deal with Azkaban prisoners and now wondering if I was still sane. I shot him a too-large smile and he stepped back, tightening his grip on his wand.

Merlin, that was amusing.

I stared ahead as the two of us started down the hallway, only watching the trainee beside me out of the corner of my eye and ignoring the cries from the other prisoners entirely. Their feelings of longing and despair brushed across my mind, but I easily pushed it away. The long-gone minds of the other prisoners were projecting a bit, not that they were aware enough to notice. Everyone's mind here was too open, spilling out all over the place, and too easy to rummage through.

We had walked a rather slow three minutes when the physical activity caught up with me. My breath came in short wheezes and my legs were positively shaking. I was exhausted. Two more minutes found me slowing my already sluggish pace, but I could not make myself care. As frustrated as I was, I knew the sitting around for so long had weakened me to a ridiculous degree. It was nothing that I could have prevented, although the degree to which I had weakened did somewhat surprise me.

A whispered incantation and a feeling of magic flowing through me later, my pace quickened and my legs steadied. An energizing charm. Useful, but I would pay for it later, considering that I was now using energy that I didn't actually have. The trainee beside me either didn't know or didn't care.

I was betting on the latter.

My laugh made the trainee nearly jump out of his skin and whip his wand around to point at me again. The rest of the walk to the boat was calm, with the exception of the twitchy man walking beside me.

This time, the ride on the rickety little boat was calm; peaceful, even. I could finally, after all this time, see the water instead of only hear it. The cold wind chilled me even as it cheered me. The sky was grey, as it always seemed to be in this place, as if this prison could never be reached by the sun. I absently hummed a song that I had heard in someone's memories while we floated along. It felt as if I were on some vacation, just being outside for once.

The trainee and I exchanged no words, although the man did continue to eye me with annoying frequency. He was nervous, and nothing I had done so far had given him reason to feel any calmer. That was ok. I didn't feel bad for him in the slightest.

Soon enough, the shore came into view. My head began to sag to my chest as the exhaustion began to creep into my body once more. Energizing charms weren't known for their lasting effects. By the time we actually reached the shore, I had to forcefully drag myself from the boat. The trainee Auror did nothing to help besides holding the boat still. Once I was on solid ground, I sat once more. My legs no longer wished to support me, and I felt as if I could go to sleep right where I sat. Once the trainee had settled the boat where it was supposed to be kept, he turned back to me and held out what I assumed to be a portkey.

"Take this," he said, his arm stretched out as far as it could go as if he was trying to avoid getting close to me. "This will take us to St. Mungos."

Getting back to my feet was a tiring affair. Finally, I grabbed on to the portkey and was whisked away. I did not stay conscious long enough to be greeted at our destination.

…

She was nervous, perhaps even scared. I could tell as soon as she entered the room with a potion or five in her hands. Her whitish-grey robes marked her as a mediwitch. She had a somewhat chubby but happy face that was most likely used to sharing smiles with nearly everyone she met. I wondered for a moment if everyone felt nervous around me and couldn't decide what I preferred. I had missed the reception that I had received when I first arrived since I had passed out. So far, from what I had seen, nervousness did seem to be the general consensus.

The nurse came closer and began instructing me to take each potion as she handed them to me. My eyes drooped as soon as I dutifully drank the potions she had brought.

Screw thinking; I was tired.

…...

Voices roused me from my slumber, although they were hushed. I lay in the hospital bed and listened in to the conversation taking place.

"He does look pretty bad, doesn't he?" It wasn't really a question, though.

"He might not have been in there as long as Sirius was, but Azkaban is Azkaban. Any amount of time there is…terrible." This voice tripped just a little over Sirius' name. It was obvious to me who it was; I had seen him often enough in my nightmares. Remus was still feeling the pain of losing his best friend. Again.

And, honestly, it had been mostly my fault.

"How long do you think it will take for him to recover? Hermione told me that he didn't wake at all yesterday. Not even when they came to give him potions." I knew the voice, but I just couldn't place it yet.

"It's…well, it's impossible to tell. Dementors do a lot of damage. There hasn't even been a complete study of how they affect the health."

"It's just – Merlin, 'Mione told me how bad he looked when they first brought him here. I was on patrol and couldn't even see him 'till the next day." I knew who that was. It finally hit me. Ron. That was my best friend, sitting in the very same room with me, voice deeper and more gravelly than I could remember. I took in a deep breath. I was finally back from Hell. My breath attracted attention.

"I think he might be waking up!" Remus exclaimed. The sound of chairs being pushed back and feet rushing over to the bed assaulted me.

"Harry! Come on! W-we're here! Wake up!" Ron seemed more emotional than I remembered, too. I wanted to open my eyes and finally see him, but they wouldn't budge. Exhaustion pulled at me forcefully, and I unwillingly succumbed.

…...

Light hit my eyelids and made me cringe in my semi-awareness. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw that it was the sunlight streaming in through the windows that had awoken me. The bed that I was on was incredibly soft, especially when compared to what I had grown used to. No other people where in my room with me, but there was a chair pulled up to the bed. I was somewhat disappointed not to wake up to the company of my friends, but perhaps also a little relieved. There was no way I wanted to face all of the people that would likely visit me all at once. I was tired enough as it was.

Soon enough, the door to my room open and in stepped an older mediwitch. They must have placed an alarm on my room in order to tell when I woke. The woman had short, deep brown hair that didn't offer a clue to her age. It was her lined face that told me she wasn't someone just out of school.

"How are you feeling?" She obviously wasn't here to chat.

"Good enough." My voice came out almost like a croak, and I winced. The mediwitch quickly brought me a glass of water to sip at. I took my time with the water and scanned the stranger's outer thoughts. Maybe it was immoral, but something like this could honestly save my life. It was too useful to ignore the talent, at the very least.

The woman was nervous around me, but just barely. She had dealt with her fair share of sick patients, and I was nothing too frightening. Most of the caution stemmed from the fact that I had just been released from that awful prison, so no one quite knew what to expect of my sanity.

"My friends?" I asked. My voice sounded a bit better after the water, but not that much better.

The mediwitch looked at me for a second before answering. I could have sworn that her eyes softened towards me.

"St. Mungos staff will alert them that you are awake once we've done a few more assessments," she replied. Meaning, they wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to go crazy and attack people first. They probably thought it was a legitimate concern. Hell, it probably was.

After a short, stilted conversation that was mostly made up of a question and answer session that I just barely paid attention to, the mediwitch left with promises to contact my friends. I couldn't imagine what they would be doing right now. Would they be in class? Wait. Did they even have classes still? How long had I been imprisoned? More than a month, I knew that much.

I looked out of the window in hopes that it would help me find the answer. Snow was piled up on the window sill outside while a steady wind blew more snow through the air. Was it still winter? It really felt like it had been longer than that. I had been locked up at the end of December. How could it still be winter?

Eventually, the silence of my room was broken again when the door opened and admitted a bushy-haired woman. She was taller than I remembered, and maybe a little more…womanly, but I could still easily recognize Hermione.

"Harry! Oh, it's just so good to see you! How are you feeling? I'm so sorry! We tried – really tried – to get you out of that place sooner. It's just, oh god Harry!"

A brief glance at her mind made me recoil quickly. It was done without much thought, and only proved how awful she felt, but I felt as if this wasn't something I should do to her. It looked like she was about to cry and it made me feel…happy yet awkward. Here was one of the friends that I had been missing for so long. Hermione hurried over to the bed in order to give me a hug and I accepted it a little less awkwardly than I might have a while ago. One thing bothered me, and I had to ask the question.

"How long?" Thankfully, my voice sounded much better than before.

Hermione looked at me for a minute, tears collecting in her eyes. A sniff later and she was ready to answer.

"Two years, Harry. Well, two years and a month, actually. It's February." Hermione looked uncomfortable for a minute before continuing. "Ron and I graduated Hogwarts already. It was…hard to be there without you. I'm just so sorry we couldn't get you out sooner. I tried so hard but…it's just…you know." It was really weird to see my bookish friend at such a loss for words. It was something that I couldn't really remember ever happening before.

"It's not your fault, Hermione. There's nothing you could have done." Hermione still didn't look all that consoled, so I tried diverting her attention. "So, uh…what do you guys do now?"

It didn't help at all.

"That's just it! Ron and I both work for the Ministry! Well, in a way. Ron is a trainee Auror, so he works for the Ministry directly. I found a job in law. I thought…I just figured that with my position, I would be able to help you! As well as all the magical creatures out there that aren't treated right," she exclaimed.

I nearly laughed out loud, but was fortunately able to hold in my mirth. I had no desire to offend my friend. The huff of air that escaped my mouth could be mistaken for a deep breath. Maybe frustration, I don't know.

"Hermione, it's not your fault. I know how the Ministry is." And I certainly did, not all of that knowledge came from personal experience, either. Some of those people in Azkaban had truly done nothing wrong. Spoken out against the Minister of their time, yes, but nothing truly horrible. People had a tendency to forget those who were thrown into the prison, and so no one bothered to look over old cases. What Ministry Official wanted to point out flaws in their own system? Too much work, that.

A jaw-cracking yawn interrupted my thoughts. Hermione, who was sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed, leaned over.

"Oh, you must be exhausted! Go ahead and have a rest. Ron should be stopping by soon as long as nothing big happens. Once he's here, we can continue talking. There's some big news that you should know, but it can wait," Hermione assured me. I couldn't find it in me to protest. I really was tired, as ridiculous as it was. You would think, with all of the sleep I had been getting, that I would already be rather well-rested. Hermione sat back with a book, and I closed my eyes.

It felt like no time had passed at all when I next woke up. The smell of food wafted through the little room and made my mouth water. When I opened my eyes, it was to see two chairs sitting next to my bed, and only one occupied.

Hermione looked up from her book and smiled when I turned my head to face her.

"Ron's just arrived. He'll be back in a second; he went out to grab a drink. Also, the nurse told me that you're to take the two potions sitting on your side table, and then eat. I'll let the nurses know you're awake," she said softly. The bushy-haired witch closed her book and then stood, leaving her book on the chair as she walked out into the hallway.

While Hermione busied herself with catching the attention of a mediwitch, I looked over to the potions that I was charged with taking. Neither looked the least bit appetizing but, one way or another, I knew I would be forced to take them.

By the time Hermione returned to the room with Ron and a nurse by her side, I was reclining in the bed wishing for something to take the awful taste from my mouth.

"Oh good, you've taken your potions. Here is your meal. Make sure to eat all of it, now. You're still a little underweight from lack of…proper nourishment," said the unfamiliar witch. She obviously knew what the prisoners in Azkaban were fed and disapproved. I snorted after taking a peek at her thoughts, which earned me an odd look, but nothing more. She did indeed know some of the conditions inside the prison, and was somewhat offended about it. I couldn't tell why without diving deeper into her thoughts, and I didn't want to risk being found out; I'd found out at some point that some people could tell when I did more than skim.

Finally, when the bustling nurse was finished checking up on me, she left us to talk amongst ourselves with a reminder of when visiting hours ended. Ron began as soon as the witch left.

"Man, Harry! It's good to see you awake! So, er, how're you feeling?" he said, obviously relieved to be able to talk to me.

"I'm…better." It was vague enough to suffice, I supposed.

"I mean, it's been…um, a while. Yeah? So, uh. How was, er…" Ron trailed off to the glare from Hermione.

"Oh, really, Ron. You can't just ask – "

"If you're trying to ask how Azkaban was," I began, cutting off Hermione before she could get started, "well, it was cozy. Now, not what I would call a top service place, but I certainly got food delivered every day." I grinned at him.

Ron looked at me for a second, the awkward smile frozen on his face, before letting out a puff of air in a pathetic attempt at a laugh. My smile really must be terrifying or something. Hermione huffed out of annoyance of Ron's lack of tactfulness and my bad joke, but her eyes were stuck on my face, the concern nearly bursting from her.

"So," I began, wanting to clear the awkwardness that had fallen between us. "You mentioned that there were some things you wanted to talk about?"

"Oh yeah! Did Hermione tell you that I got into Auror Training? They didn't even care that I never took NEWT potions!" exclaimed Ron.

"That's great, Ron." I didn't really understand why he was so excited to work for the Ministry. They were a bunch of cowards who placed blame wherever they could.

"Yeah, well, it was mostly because of…stuff that was happening. They kinda lowered some requirements for the program. But still, Auror Training!" He certainly had wanted to become an Auror for quite a while. I was happy for him, yet still…it was the Ministry that had locked up an underage wizard. Not to mention Sirius, who had been completely innocent. My responding smile was half-hearted.

"That isn't what we needed to talk about, though," Hermione cut in. It didn't stop Ron from celebrating his success, but it did put a damper on his mood. "A lot of stuff has happened since you were sentenced, Harry. It got…pretty bad, actually."

"Yeah mate. A lot of people are scared. You-Know-Who attacked a lot more while you were…away. Dumbledore was hardly ever at school while we were there," Ron added.

"Professor Dumbledore, Ron. Anyway, it was because of this that you were let out," Hermione said, sparing Ron a disapproving glance for the lack of title on Dumbledore's name. "The Minister was still very much against letting you go-"

"Yeah, it's like he has it out for you, Harry," Ron interrupted.

"Ron! Let me finish!" Hermione exclaimed. She was obviously losing her patience. "I wasn't working for long enough to really help, so I wasn't as involved as I wanted to be in getting your release. From what I heard, it was pressure from the Wizengamot that finally got Minister Scrimgeour to let you free. Dumbledore had been fighting for the support for a while to finally get them to move; I don't know what you did, Harry, but you somehow made him an enemy. That could be dangerous, because he can really make things difficult for you."

I gave her a look for that last bit, and she understood quickly.

"I know. You already know how he can be. I'm just worried, Harry." I nodded to her, and she continued to explain what had happened while I was away. "Well, V-voldemort has –"

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, wincing from the use of the evil name.

"Oh, Ron. You're training to be an Auror now. You can't be afraid of the name anymore! Remember what Professor Dumbledore said! Anyway, He has gotten a lot more active. There were raids on quite a few different villages. There was nearly nothing left of them, afterwards. People were just too afraid to fight back, it seemed. Recruitment for the Aurors has shot way up, but they're mostly younger adults and they're all still in training." Here, the bushy-haired witch lowered her voice a bit. "Ron and I, now that we're old enough, we've joined the order. Some were against it, such as Mrs. Weasley –"

"Mum would never have let me join, if she had her way. She didn't even want Bill to join, and he had already moved out!" Ron interrupted, yet again. I could definitely imagine that from the Weasley Matriarch.

"Well," Hermione continued, "the Order is trying to use the people that they have to…help avoid more incidents." It took me a second before I remembered what she was talking about.

Snape. Awful as a person, but to still be alive, he must be rather successful as a spy. As long as he was actually on our side. Otherwise, I'd be taking him down personally and with joy. Fucking bastard. I couldn't help but scowl at thoughts of him. A cracking sound distracted me. Ron and Hermione also heard it, as they were looking around to see what had made the noise, but we couldn't find anything. Ron was the first to shrug and turn back to us, but Hermione and I eventually gave up as well.

"Anyone we know, well, gone?" Yeah, not the most tactful way of asking, but it was a question that was bothering me.

"Well, from our year, Hannah Abbot. Do you remember her? She was friends with Susan Bones. Susan took it really hard, especially after the loss of her aunt. Most of the others were younger years that we never really got to know. It's just so sad." Hermione responded, her eye tearing up a bit. The past two years seemed to have been pretty hard on her.

"Yeah, mate. A lot of owls would come every week with the black letters." Ron added.

"Black letters?" I asked. I hadn't heard of those before. Hermione was the one to answer.

"They are the condolence letters sent out once a death has been registered. I still don't think the first years should have received those. It was awful to see those letters with the morning post. Every day, everyone would just stare up at the owls praying that there were no black letters that day." Hermione shuddered simply remembering the nervousness she had experienced.

"Let's not think about it too much. I mean, you should just, you know, rest and stuff. The mediwitch mentioned earlier that you could be let out soon." Ron said, obviously trying to shake off his own recollections of the tense mornings he had suffered, waiting to see if he would receive a black envelope with an equally black letter inside.

"Ron's right," agreed Hermione. "Professor Dumbledore mentioned during the last…meeting…that you would be brought to the meeting place to finish your recovery. You'll be getting out of St. Mungos pretty soon."

Hermione was right, and only a day later I was hustled off to Grimmauld Place. It was still dark and sinister-looking, and I hated being there. But it was a safe place, and I would likely be more able to get around and do things away from St. Mungos. The Healers at St. Mungos argued with Dumbledore about having me attend some psychiatric meetings, but the Old wizard eventually wore them down.

It was wonderful to be around the people I knew, but Grimmauld Place had its own prison-like charm. There was nothing I hated more than being locked up, for my safety or for the safety of others, it didn't matter.

I still, at times, felt like a prisoner.

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So, a slightly longer chapter than usual. Mostly to make up for the bit of a wait you guys had for this chapter. I can't promise that the next chapter will be coming extremely soon. Work still needs to come first, although I will be working on it. Happy Christmas, everyone!