I'm not sure how long I was out, but when I finally came to I was laying on a white bed in a small white room, and I was wearing a baggy white gown. I squinted against the bright lights, sitting up. I had no idea where I was, but it sure as hell was not home. I wandered around the room- bed, toilet, shower… I was in a cell of some kind, with a door that nearly blended into the wall if not for the small window at the very top. I tried jumping up to see outside, but it was just out of reach. Did I die? Had I entered some kind of purgatory? My heart raced and I began pacing, trying to dismiss the thoughts. I reached for my wand, finding nothing in the deep pockets. I was completely hopeless.

That's when I started freaking out. I began pounding on the door, screaming like I was being murdered. I heard a faint muttering from behind the door, and I instantly locked up in a full body-bind curse. I fell to the floor with a painful crash, eyes wide open as a young woman in Healer's robes rushed in frantically. "Well, you're awake, finally," she said, more to herself than to me, as she looked me up and down. "How much do you remember?"

She stared at me for a couple seconds, waiting for me to respond. "Oh! You can't talk, can you?" She shook her head, and her wand, and I could move my head and neck again.

"What's going on?" I asked quickly, eyes locked on hers. My heart was beating so fast that I was positive it was going to burst out of my chest, and I was starting to hyperventilate.

"How much do you remember?" She asked again, a clipboard and quill appearing in her hands.

I closed my eyes. Attacking Marcus… That was about it. "Um, getting into it with Marcus Fudge," I said slowly, opening my eyes. The bright light was giving me a headache.

"And then?" She marked something down.

I could faintly remember someone grabbing me around the middle, but everything was black after that. "And then waking up here?"

She narrowed her eyes as she wrote furiously. "You don't remember attacking the Minister for Magic? Throwing dangerous curses at important Ministry officials?"

"What?" I blinked. "No- I wouldn't-"

"I see," she said shortly, and with that she left the room. The second the door clicked shut, I was free to move again. I curled into a ball on the floor, thinking about that strange interaction. There was no way that that happened. There was no fucking way.

I sat there for I don't know how long, chanting "there's no way" in my head over and over again. I felt tired, but I didn't want to sleep. I was hungry, but not in the mood to eat the food that had appeared in my room a while ago. The only thing that I was in the mood for was trying to figure out what happened. The more I focused, the less clear things seemed to be. Could I have attacked the Minister? No, unless something I shot at Marcus rebounded and hit him on accident. Or if he was the one who grabbed me… But the odds of hitting him were slim to none, and what about the mention of all the Ministry officials?

Eventually I fell asleep, and I was awakened by the sound of the door opening. I jolted, sitting up and staring up at the person who just entered the room. He was tall, dark, and excruciatingly strong looking, and he was holding a small bundle of clothes.

"Put these on," he stated deeply in a deep voice.

"Why?" I narrowed my eyes at him, disliking the way he was staring at me.

"Do you want to go to your trial dressed like that?" He motioned at my gown.

I spluttered. "T-trial?"

He set the clothes down next to me. "You have five minutes to get dressed," he backed out of the room, closing the door loudly as he left.

Five minutes. Five minutes. I yanked the clothes on. I recognized the gross skirt and blouse as my mother's clothing, and I buried my head in my arm, inhaling her scent. I would give anything to see her right now, if only for a moment… Five minutes. Five minutes, and then what?

I was pulling my shoes on just as the man returned, not bothering to knock on the door. If I wasn't so deathly afraid of him, I would have told him off for his rudeness.

"I am going to have you walk in front of me. I will have my wand against your back, in case you decide to act out," he recited, sounding bored, like this was a statement he made multiple times a day.

I nodded, standing up moving towards the door. "I won't act out." He pushed his wand into the small of my back and I jumped, wincing at the feeling.

"Good," he said simply, prodding me in the back again. I took a shaky step into the hallway. It had a sickening smell of death and cleanliness, and portraits of Healers were hung up randomly down the long white hallway. We were in St. Mungo's, in a private ward meant for long term patients, most likely. Would they be locking me up here forever? Maybe…. Though they normally sent you to Azkaban if they deemed you criminally insane, which is how they seemed to be treating me. The man would occasionally mutter which way I needed to turn, and eventually he led me into a large grey room with lots of arm chairs set around little coffee tables. The only people in the room were fretting nervously in the center of it. My parents, solemn and exhausted.

"Thank you, Titus. If you could leave us alone for a moment, please," my father said coolly to the large room. I heard a short grunt behind me, and then the sound of the door closing.

I stood still, uncomfortable. Mother was crying, something that I honestly don't think I had ever seen before. She rushed towards me, stumbling a little and pulling me into a hug so tight that I couldn't breathe. Father ambled over to us slowly, as though he were in a sleep-walking.

Mother finally let go of me, holding me out at arm's length and staring at me with teary grey eyes. "Why Nathascha? What did we-" She let out a small sob, letting go of me. "-What did we do wrong as parents?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Nothing, stop it… I don't' even know what's going on. Some healer told me that I tried to kill the Minister or something." I looked from one parent to the other, trying to gauge their reactions.

Father raised his blonde eyebrows. "That's the gist of it. Are you faking stupid so that they will feel sorry for you? That's a shitty way to act innocent," he spat, though he didn't look angry.

"Who will feel sorry for me?" I asked quietly, afraid of his answer.

"The Wizengamot! You think you're just going home after this- this stunt?!" Father waved his arms angrily, exploding. "Nathascha, we have attempted assassination on our hands! You have a trial! You can be sentenced to Azkaban if we're not careful!"

Mother pulled me into another tight hug, sobbing loudly, and I buried my head in her shoulder, trying not to do the same. "W-whe-when is my trial?" I spluttered out, starting to hyperventilate. If it weren't for my mother's arms wrapped around me, I would have probably fallen to the ground in a panicked shock.

She let out another wailing sob, saying something that I couldn't understand. I opened my mouth to speak, but Father answered me.

"In an hour," he said flatly, looking exhausted.

"WHAT?!" I jumped out of Mother's arms, feeling suddenly light-headed.

Titus opened the door, his wand raised. "I heard yelling."

Father waved his hand dismissively. "We're fine, thank you."

The man didn't move. "I should take her now."

Another sob from my mother, and my father sighed. They both gave me quick hugs and waved as I was dragged out of the door. "I'll be there for the trial!" My mother shouted as the door closed magically behind me.

"You will be side-along Apparating with me," he held out his arm and I grasped it tightly, using it to support myself. I had always much preferred Floo travelling to Apparating… We twisted and I almost let go of him as we travelled through time and space, feeling as though my entire body was being crushed into a matchbox…

We appeared in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, and I collapsed on the floor, coughing and dry heaving. Titus stood there patiently until I shakily stood up, gasping for air. He grabbed me by the shoulder of my blouse, half dragging and half carrying me. I had never been in the Ministry before, and I never wanted to be there again. I didn't bother looking around- I simply didn't care. He dragged me into a crowded elevator, and I did my best to crush myself into a corner and hoped no one noticed me. It was probably in the Prophet that the Malfoy daughter had done something horrible, and now my family was going to be disgraced… Luckily, most people were too preoccupied with other things to take notice of me, though a couple people did greet Titus.

The lift floor doors opened for the thousandth time and he once again led me down a corridor of endless doors and turns. This area was much more deserted- only a couple silent witches and wizards were bustling around in and out of courtrooms and offices. Finally, he pushed me into a dark room with nothing but a chair resting against the wall. "Sit," he ordered, gesturing to the thing.

I admired it a moment before sitting down- a tall, dark wooden chair. It reminded me of a throne, I mused as I sat down... Until chains began binding me to the chair, making it so I could really only move my head and fingers. He extended his arm and tapped the wall behind me with his wand. "Good luck," he said politely as the chair began to spin, the wall opening to reveal a much bigger, lighter room. The Wizengamot courtroom… It was relatively empty; this would be a more private case.

I don't remember much about who said what and who said what happened, but all I know is this- every damn one of them were lying. They tried saying I was crazy, too mentally unstable at the age of thirteen to continue going to a Wizarding school. Marcus even appeared and said we'd dated for a brief period of time, breaking up with me when he discovered I was lying about my age, and that must have been why I cursed him. At least ten people from the party said they saw me attack either Marcus or Cornelius, and a couple saw both. A man stood in for Cornelius, stating that the Minister was 'too disturbed to look into the eyes of his attacker'.

I wasn't allowed to say much at all. When I was permitted to, most people either didn't listen, or looked at me with eyes that yelled 'liar'.

The leader of the Wizengamot sat in silence for a little while, everyone staring intensely at him. He was reading through the opinions and verdict choices of every other member, waiting to decide my fate. He casually flipped the pages. Did he not realize he was choosing the fate of a sixteen year old girl? No… All everyone saw was a crazy person, a lunatic who 'tried to kill the Minister with a deadly curse'. They were the crazy ones. I had been raised around and taught the secrets of Dark Magic, but I was never one to use it. But part of me wondered if they were right, if in a fit of rage I had attacked the Minister, and I just couldn't remember.

Finally, the leader cleared his throat. "In the case of Nathascha Narcissa Rainier Malfoy… We sentence you to forty years in Azkaban for the attempt to curse the Minister for Magic with a rare and dangerous spell, and an additional ten years for the attack on two other wizards."

He banged his gavel, and eyes widened, tearing starting to run down my face. If anyone was saying anything, I couldn't hear them over the sound of my own screams. The chair rotated back into that dark little room and the chains released me. I was shaking so badly that I could barely move, and Titus once again half carried me out of the room and down the hallway. He pulled me into what looked like an office, where my parents and Draco were standing. He silently left, dropping me in a crumpled heap on the floor with my family watching.

I stopped screaming, tears and snot still flowing freely. Draco started crying, and Father whispered something in his ear. Mother was crying too, loud wrenching sobs.

"While there was no amount of money that we could… donate… to allow your innocence, we did manage to give you the upper hand there," Father said, his voice cracking, and he looked down at his hands.

I rolled over so I was laying on my back, looking up at him. Draco stepped forward carefully, sitting next to me, wiping his pale face. "Managed what?" I had stopped crying, my voice tick. There was nothing I could do or say- I was done for. Azkaban for fifty years… By the time I got out, most of my life would be over. I'd be crazier than Auntie Bellatrix. If you're in Azkaban and end up going loony (which happened often), most of the time you get left in there forever. Would that happen to me?

"We didn't tell you earlier because it hadn't been confirmed yet, but I got an owl while you were in the courtroom," Father started, looking triumphant and yet still very defeated. "We visited Azkaban yesterday, and brought a translator to talk to the dementors. In the end we found the most… sane prisoner there."

"The prisoner less likely to eat her, more likely," Draco said, and my parents both gave him sharp looks. "That's what you two said…"

Father frowned. "Yes, well- that prisoner is going to be your cell-mate." It seemed that with every work he spoke, he lost just a little bit more energy.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "But how is that supposed to help me?" If 'less likely to eat me' was the best way to describe this person, I probably didn't want to be locked in a small cell with them; that just sounds like a problem waiting to happen.

Mother spoke up finally, her voice shaky. "Having a cellmate means you'll get hit just a little less by the dementors. Having the… effect being split between the two of you should help. It won't be much but it'll hopefully be enough."

They were going to great lengths for their crazy daughter. "Thanks so much… I-I really appreciate it. I love you all," I choked up on the last sentence, and I started crying a little bit again. We weren't exactly a mushy bunch. And the fact that they had done all this for me, their insane child who was definitely putting a tarnish on their reputation, was amazing. I regretted every time I ever thought that they loved me much less than Draco.

My little brother bent over and patted me on the head awkwardly. "Think of it as our last gift to you," he paused, looking around the room. "Well, for a while anyway." He was so thoughtful and comforting… I tried to smile at him, but it wasn't possible. It felt like I was already in the hands of the dementors. I mouthed the words 'thank you'.

My parents sat on the floor next to Draco and me, and sat up. We wrapped our arms around each other in a group hug, all of our foreheads touching. My father's shoulders shook. The door opened and I ignored it. "Time to go…" Titus said, sounding extremely uncomfortable.

"Go where?" I asked, my voice muffled in the group hug. I had a good guess at where he was going to say, and I wanted to hear it.

"Azkaban," he cleared his throat, and my family began standing up. "This was your good-byes." His voice fell flat, and everyone was openly crying now. I pulled Draco into a tight hug as I stood up. I pulled away from him, and gave my parents the same quick hugs. I didn't want Titus to get impatient and try to drag me out of their arms.

"We'll try to visit!" Father said as the door closed behind me. I turned and stared at the wooden, windowless door. I reached out my hand, fingertips grazing the door as I wished to be back in the room.

Titus cleared his throat again. "Ready to go? We'll be Apparating there."

"No," I whispered. He nodded and extended his arm, which I grabbed once more, preparing myself for the journey. He twisted and we tumbled through blackness, landing on uneven rocks. The air smelled salty, the wind cold and moist.

"Good luck in there, kid." Titus let go of me and pushed me forward just as dementors rushed in from all sides.

I woke up on a lumpy mattress with no sheet, and a thin blanket covering my body. Apparently the dementors had changed my clothes for me, as I was now wearing an already worn out grey striped uniform.

I sat up, head pounding, and screamed. Crouched at the foot of my bed was what looked like a corpse. It was gaunt, almost skeletal with long greasy black hair and sunken grey eyes. "What're you doing here?" He whispered quickly, eyeing me up and down.

"I-I-I" it was hard to talk. I could feel the dementors floating, hovering everywhere, and I felt like shit. "I think I'm your cellmate," I managed to slur.

"Lies! You're some kind of spy, aren't you? Trying to get me to finally confess? I'm not confessing. I'm innocent. I didn't do it." The man crawled across the bed so that he was on top of me. "I'm innocent," he repeated, leaning in close so that his foul breath was in my ear.

I scooted out from under him, falling backwards off the mattress and hitting the stone floor. "Stop! We have that in common! I'm innocent too. I'm not a spy, I promise! I promise!" My voice raised into a squeal as he started towards me again, and I started crying.

He froze, looking at me with his eyes narrowed. "What're you doing here, then?" He tilted his head.

I shakily stuttered out my story. How I had no idea why everyone thought I did what they said I did, about how everyone was lying about my sanity to get me locked up.

When I finished, he crawled towards me again, and I backed up against the bars of the cell. "Use it or lose it. Use it!"

"What?" It was impossible to believe that he was the sanest guy in here.

He lunged forward, grabbing my face with his dirty and smelly hands. He looked at me fiercely, his grey eyes locked on mine. "Use your innocence to your advantage. Use it to keep the dementors away. Focus on it. Focus on nothing but your innocence. Use it or lose your sanity. Like him," he pointed to the cell across from me. I didn't move, frozen in fear and shock. He grabbed my face again, turning my head to force me to look. I immediately turned back to him, not wanting to see anymore. The person was curled up in the fetal position, his eyes big and blank. "Or like them," he gestured up, and sat in silence. Above the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, there was a constant chorus of screaming.

I pushed him away from me. He had no sense of personal space, and he scaring me. "Then why are you here?"

His features darkened and he looked like he was remembering the worse moment of his life. "I thought he was my friend. He framed me… He killed my friends and then blew himself and a whole street full of muggles up while I watched… The Ministry found me, and here I am."

I didn't replay. I remembered his story faintly. I was almost eight when the Dark Lord was defeated, though I was well shielded from him. I didn't remember a whole lot, but his story sounded familiar. "Sirius Black?" I finally whispered, recalling his name from the nasty things my mother would say about him.

He blinked. "I haven't heard that name in a long time…"

"I'm Nathascha Malfoy," I responded stupidly, unsure of what to say to that.

"Malfoy?" His eyebrows rose, and I inched farther away from him. He shrugged after a moment. "Nathascha Malfoy."

"Sirius Black…" I said quietly. "We have innocence in common." I looked at him, nodding.

"Then we'll get along famously."

My lips twitched up into the first smile I'd managed in a couple of days. He returned the expression.