Jail is much easier on people who have nothing. Bernard Goetz
"Where is he?" Harry asked, looking everywhere for the cat. He promised he would take care of the cat if Hermione "got sent to the big house," as she put it.
"He'll show once he notices people here," Ginny said.
As if on cue, the cat trotted in through the cat door and went straight for Harry. He picked him up and scratched behind his ears.
"Wanna come stay with me? Your mum won't be back for a while," Harry said.
Ginny tossed cat food and toys in a bag. "I still can't believe they sent her to jail! Our Hermione in jail! It's insane!"
The warden at Chelmsford prepared for the facility's newest inmate. He couldn't remember that last time someone of Hermione's status came to the jail and was admittedly a bit surprised at the verdict. So much for friends in high places! He prided himself on running a well-ordered facility, because a well-ordered facility made for less incidents with the inmates and increased funding. Two guards waited at the gate for the arrivals. At three p.m. a Hit Wizard and Hermione Apparated, she stumbling a bit due to the fact that she didn't have her hands available to steady herself. The Hit Wizard steadied her and they went to the front gate. The other witches milling about the small, manicured grounds stopped what they were doing and watched as a witch in a classy pant suit and expensive shoes was given to the custody of the Chelmsford House of Correction for Witches.
"Good luck, Hermione," the Hit Wizard said.
"Thanks, Bryce," she said and faced the guards. "Good afternoon, gentlemen."
"To you as well, miss. This way."
In the inmate processing room, a inmate and a guard came in and left three gray and white striped robes, basic black loafers, a gray dressing robe, a toothbrush, tooth powder, bar of soap, comb, and a towel on a table. The inmate left and the guard stayed to speak.
"You will wear these robes during the length of your stay in the facility. Place your wand, your clothes, and belongings you arrived with inside of the box located in the changing room behind you, with the exception of your under things and any feminine items you require. The items will be returned to you upon completion of your sentence. This is a facility for non-violent offenders, so I trust that I can remove the shackles?"
She nodded and held up her hands. He removed the shackles and nodded at a one-way mirror. "You may now change into the inmate robes, the warden will be in to speak with you in ten minutes time."
Minutes later, she stood in a striped wool robe and stiff black loafers. She sighed at the sight of her Bill Blass pant suit and Jimmy Choos in the box. The warden came in, shook her hand, and waited for the previous guard to come in with two chairs. They sat and he flipped through her file.
"I must say that I'm surprised to see a witch of your caliber in this facility," he said.
"No more than I am, sir," she replied.
"As you can see, this is not Azkaban, nor do we strive to emulate that horrid place. This correctional facility houses those who have committed minor offenses such as petty thievery, public disturbances, fraud, and lesser degrees of assault," he said, nodding at her. "Once you have been shown to your bed in the barracks, you may write to a family member or spouse to let them know that you have arrived in good health to start your sentence."
He gave her a slim piece of parchment. "This is the information regarding outside visitors, I recommend that you include it in the letter. Do you have any questions?"
She shook her head.
"Understandable. Things are a bit of a shock to you right now. Chelmsford rules are posted in the common room and in the barracks. To help keep the inmates occupied, a list of assigned tasks are placed in the common room every morning. Failure to abide by the rules and refusing to perform your assigned tasks will result in placement in one of the solitary wards and revocation of privileges."
He nodded at the one-way mirror and they stood. "Guard Mooresby will show you to your barracks. Good day, Miss Granger."
Good day, he says.
In the barracks, which held 20 beds,Guard Mooresby stopped at her bunk.
"Remember, you are bunk 18. The common room is that way, the bathrooms are that way. You are permitted to socialize with the inmates of the other two barracks during free time if you wish. Mealtimes are at seven a.m., noon, and five p.m. Health concerns can be brought to any guard at any time and you will be brought to the jail medi-witch. Are you currently taking any medications?"
"Does birth control count?"
"Yes," he said and noted it on his clipboard. "Anything else?"
"I have occasional nightmares that require a mild calming elixir. That's it."
He noted that on the clipboard.
"Good luck, Miss Granger."
She placed the meager jail amenities in the small trunk below the bed and took the supplied parchment, quill and Visitor Policy Letter to the common room. A few witches gave the newest inmate a quick once-over and continued with whatever they were doing. She sat and read the letter.
Chelmsford House of Correction for Witches
Policies for Inmate Visits
Inmates are not discouraged from having visits, as it has been shown to be beneficial to the mental state of the inmates. However, for the safety and well-being of the inmates, the following policies are strictly enforced:
- Visiting times are permitted every day at the following times:
9:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m.
1:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m.
Times can be adjusted for family emergencies and pre-arranged times from Advocates regarding important legal matters.
- Visitors may bring hygiene/personal items for the inmates. Visitors may also bring food and beverages for the inmates, as some inmates may have special dietary needs.
- Visitors may bring entertainment items such as reading materials, playing cards, parchment, quills.
- Physical contact between visitors and inmates is limited and no sexual intercourse will be permitted between visitors and inmates.
Well, there goes my plan to seduce Harry after breakfast, she thought with a snort, and although she could see the reasoning behind that rule, conjugal visits would make for happier inmates, right? She set the quill to parchment to start her letter to Harry.
Harry,
I'm here in the common area of the barracks. Tell my parents that I'm in good health and in a fairly good state of mind. Please take note of the visitor's rules. I don't have much time to write, the line for supper is forming. I hope to see you tomorrow. Tell Crooks hi for me. I miss you so very much already.
Love, Hermione
She put the letters in the outgoing post box and joined the line for supper, which consisted of a rather bland potato soup, a slice of bread, a choice of apple or orange, and a pot of tea in the middle of each table. Hermione counted the number of people in the room at 62.
"Can I sit here?" a quiet voice asked at her elbow.
"Of course, there's plenty of room," she said, indicating the five other empty chairs.
Hermione waited until the girl was settled and asked if she wanted tea.
"I'm Hermione, and you are...?"
"Cor, miss, everyone here knows who you are! It's the big news today, a witch like you in here!" the girl said. "I'm Belinda, by the way."
"Nice to meet you, Belinda."
The younger witch started babbling about anything and everything. Hermione did her best to respond, considering the surreal situation of being faced with a Chatty Kathy doll her first night in jail.
"I got three months, can you imagine!"
"Um...no."
"I get put on laundry detail more than anyone else!"
"That's...unfortunate."
"You see that guard over there by the brown window? He's good-looking, you know?"
"I guess so."
"So, what do you think?"
"About what?"
"All of this?"
"I've only been here a little over an hour, so I don't really know yet."
"Oh, this is my third time, so I can tell you it's an alright place."
The "good-looking" guard rang a bell after a half hour. The occupants in the dining room filed quickly from the room.
"What's the hurry?" Hermione asked her chatty supper companion.
"The post."
She watched half the number receive mail. Some were visibly upset at receiving nothing, while some just shrugged off the disappointment.
"What now?" Hermione asked.
"Come on," Belinda said, pulling on Hermione's robes to bring her to a timetable on the wall beside the entrance to the common room and pointed at it.
"This is important. The guards don't like it if you don't follow it."
"I'll keep that in mind," she said and read the timetable, making a face at how regimented it was.
"You'll get used to it," Belinda said. "Although six is kind of early to be getting up, I think."
Hermione shrugged. "I get up at that time anyway. No big deal."
She gathered her shower things and waited in line, which was already at least twenty witches deep. When it was her turn under a shower nozzle, she looked at the soap she was holding and wondered if it was all right to use on her hair.
I'm in jail, does it really matter?
She noticed other witches doing the same, so she lathered up enough for her hair. When she also noted a couple of witches looking at her body much like Harry would, she washed faster and made a quick exit. She had nothing to do during free time, and although Belinda would have probably enjoyed a conversation, she just didn't feel like it. She went to the common room and stared out of the window, envious of the birds flying free, coming and going as they pleased. From across the room, Belinda and another witch chatted quietly about her.
"So, how is she?"
"She's nice. She didn't tell me to go away or shut up."
"She hasn't cried or flipped out yet. She's just quiet."
"A lot are like that their first night."
When the lights went out, some were softly crying into the quietness of the barracks. Some talked with each other, not ready to end their conversations. Most just lay there and stared at the walls or ceiling, while the snores of a few were already heard. Hermione stared blankly at the wall, contemplating the most miserable, humiliating day of her life.
She was startled by the wake-up bell and frowned at the guard ten feet away holding the bell. Wanker! The uniformed wizard's lips twitched and he left the barracks. She changed out of the gray dressing robe and into the striped inmate robe. Not much of an improvement. She felt her head and bemoaned the state of her hair. After using only bar soap and a comb the night before, she could only imagine what her hair looked like.
Again, I'm in jail, does it matter?
She waited in line for the toilet and a turn at a mirror. At the thought of being one of twenty witches queuing up for five toilets, four showers, and two mirrors, she would never take it for granted again. And I only have to put up with it for seven days! What about those in here for months and years!
Breakfast was just as dismal as last night's supper. Lumpy porridge, a slice of bread, and the wondrous selection of tea or juice rounded out the feast. After breakfast, she looked at the Daily Task chart.
Granger: Report to the Administrative Station
Everyone scampered away to start their tasks, leaving her suddenly looking around empty barracks room. Guard Wanker-Bell-Ringer came into the barracks.
"Granger, administrative duties are in the main building. Follow me."
The condescending prat of a guard attempted to make conversation, but she would have none of it. She wouldn't tolerate that, not even in this place. Additionally, last night's soup and the morning's porridge were wreaking havoc on her stomach. In the main building, the warden's assistant took one look at her and shook her head.
"Oh dear, not a good morning for you, is it?" she asked.
Hermione shook her head and suddenly retched on the guard's feet. After seeing the Medi-witch, Hermione was given the task of organizing the Chelmsford records room. It was enough of a mess to keep her busy, which was a blessing in disguise. Time passed quickly and before she knew it, visitor's time was announced. Guard Vomit-On-His-Shoes put his head in the door.
"Granger, visiting time."
The guard couldn't help but be impressed that none other than Harry Potter was there for her, with a large bag of things for the newest inmate. She practically ran to the Visitor's Building, saw Harry waiting outside, and threw herself into his arms.
"How are you, love?" he asked.
"This place isn't a house of horrors I've been imagining, but it's quite dreary nonetheless. I think I'm kind of depressed and my stomach is a wreck from the food."
The two hours went by too fast for her taste. She felt like crying when she saw the five minutes left on the clock. For a crazy second, she thought of asking Harry to take her away from this place. He took her hand and whispered furiously.
"It's insane that you're in here! Just say the word and I'll get you out of here. I can blast you out of here, it would be easy! We can go away, somewhere far away where we will never be bothered again!"
"And be criminals for the rest of our lives," she finished.
He nodded. "Yeah, just a crazy thought. You just look so sad and angry, and the thought of you in here...it's hard to take; but if you can take it, so can I. Someone will be here to visit you every day, I promise. I love you."
The second day passed much like the first. Harry came in the morning, her parents in the afternoon. The visits lifted her spirits, as did the treats they brought. The biscuits, crisps, muffins, granola bars, fudge galleons, and mixed nuts was like manna from heaven.
"Got a steak and baked potato in that bag?" she asked.
"We'll hit a steakhouse when you get out," he said.
By the fourth day of her confinement, she was accustomed to the schedule and found herself doling out free legal advice on her free time. She didn't mind; it was better than the work in the records room. She learned that most of the witches in Chelmsford were repeat offenders, and that doing time in the jail was part and parcel for some of them.
"At least I get a bed, a roof over my head, and three meals a day while I'm here; can't say that on the outside," many of them said.
Harry kept his promise and visited every day, either in the morning or afternoon. Her supply of treats was overflowing her small trunk, so she ended up sharing the growing stash with the barracks, as well as the dozen different magazines that made their way around after showers. The nights were the worst. Her arms ached to hold Harry, and occasionally her sad and lonely thoughts caught up with her and she sobbed into her pillow. Becoming accustomed to a routine was one thing, the place itself was another thing entirely.
On the seventh and final evening, she gifted her stash of treats, magazines, parchment, magazines, shampoo, and soap to Belinda.
"Use it well, enjoy it, share it," Hermione said. "Just try and promise me one thing."
"The best I can do is try," Belinda replied.
"Come and see me at the Ministry when your time here is finished. You're too young and too smart for all of this. Please try not to think of this place as a second home, okay? There are options for you," Hermione said.
Belinda nodded sheepishly. "Okay, I can try. Three months is a long time to think, especially in this place."
"Is it ever."
December 21, 2009
At 8 a.m. Hermione dropped her jail robe and loafers in a box in the inmate's processing room and changed back into the pant suit and shoes she arrived in. Her hair was a lamentable mess, but that would be sorted out when she got home. A guard came into the processing room, signed her other belongings back to her, and opened the door for her to leave. The warden was waiting for her.
"You have completed your seven day confinement, as sentenced by the Wizengamot. You are free to go, good luck, Miss Granger."
She nodded and marched to the door. She didn't begrudge the man, he was just doing his job, but she really had nothing to say to him. She just wanted to walk out and never give the place another thought, but she knew that this experience was something she would never forget. When she walked into the cold sunshine, she stopped, closed her eyes, and breathed deep. She heard someone clearing their throat, and as if an answer to a prayer, Harry was there. She ran into his open arms and held him tightly, as if he were life and she was clinging to it.
