Chapter 2... Here we go! Anything you recognize from JK's books belongs to JK.
The Lost
by: Neri Esle
Chapter 2
November 3, 1981
"Grimes! You been at the Firewhisky again?"
Grimes rolled his eyes and looked up from his quill and parchment. Normally he'd love an excuse to stop writing... a task he found tedious and monotonous on most days. But to stop to be scolded by Captain Urlig again... well, maybe he'd rather be writing right now.
Twice before, Urlig had caught him with a bottle of firewhisky when he should have been patrolling the halls. Only twice he'd been caught. He'd lost count of the number of other times he'd snuck a flask in his robes. Sometimes, his skunk patronus was not enough to keep the chill and gloom of the dementors out of his bones, and a little something else was needed. Urlig never had this problem. He seemed unaffected by the dismal atmosphere, or maybe he'd been working here too long.
"No, sir," Grimes grunted back, dipping his quill in ink again and continuing to write.
"Well then you must have hit your head pretty hard, eh?"
Grimes felt his stomach twist and tried to keep the guilty expression off his face as he looked up. Urlig was as ugly as his name. He stood leaning against the doorframe to one of the small offices on one of the wings of the prison, as far from the dementors as one could get on the island. Even so, it was cold here, and the wizarding guards had to bundle up constantly against the chill. Urlig's cloak and layers made him look even stockier than he already was. His face was pasty and covered in stubble... a fashion trend among the wizarding populace there.
Urlig's thick eyebrows contracted as Grimes went on writing, as if too busy to listen to his boss. "Weren't you suppose to cast a silencing charm around that damned cell yesterday?"
Damn, Grimes thought. "Oh... yes..."
"Either something shiny distracted you, or you've been drinking on the job again!"
"No, sir!" Three strikes, and he'd be out. "No sir, I wasn't drinking sir." He set down his quill and groaned inwardly. "There was an... accident..."
Urlig raised his eyebrows skeptically. "An accident?"
"Yes sir. I went to silence the bastard and he grabbed me! Strong son of a bitch he was, too! Startled me, and I accidently..." his heart sank as he realized how inept and careless he sounded "... blasted him off me a bit harder than I meant to. He hit his head pretty bad. So I'm just filling out a report, just so..." he trailed off, gesturing to the parchment and quill in front of him.
Urlig actually laughed. "Guess you didn't hurt him as much as you think. He's back to screaming again today. Even after the dementors were at him for nearly half an hour. Quieted for a bit, then roused enough to keep shouting. He won't shut up!"
Grimes felt sick as Urlig laughed again and imitated the shrill, panicked shriek, "Helen! Helen!"
"Did you silence him, sir?" Grimes asked just to shut Urlig up.
"Of course I did," the captain said. "Driving everyone bloody mad!" And he started laughing again.
Grimes sighed. Captain Urlig had definitely been here too long.
"Well, finish up that report. And when you're done, read this." Urlig tossed a damp copy of the Daily Prophet in front of Grimes, spilling ink all over the table. "We'll be expecting a new shipment by the end of the week." Grimes bit back a curse, and by the time he'd mopped up his ink and refilled his jar, Urlig was gone.
Rubbing his face wearily, direly wishing he had more firewhisky on him, Grimes glanced down at the Daily Prophet headline.
Sirius Black Charged With 13 Counts of Murder
September 1, 1966
"You're as pale as a ghost!"
Helen flushed, and the boy sitting across from her snickered, "Not anymore."
"Quiet Benjy, stop pestering the first years." The witch sitting next to Helen smiled at her and patted her shoulder. "No need to look so petrified. The hard part's over!"
Helen nodded, and glanced up at the witch sitting next to her. She had stringy dark hair and black-rimmed glasses. She smiled at Helen happily. "I'm Selma Moore. Third year."
"Helen Roper," Helen mumbled.
"I couldn't help but notice that you seemed to be... intimidated... by Bellatrix Black over there," Selma gestured her head to the Slytherin table. Helen didn't even want to glance over there, afraid that Bellatrix was looking at her. Why did the Ravenclaw table have to be situated right beside the Slytherins? And why had Bellatrix and her followers chosen to sit themselves right at the end, next to the empty spaces left for the first years? Helen had purposely seated herself with her back to Bellatrix, but since the food had magically appeared on the table in front of them, she half-expected to feel bits of potatoes pelting off her back.
Selma was watching Helen closely. "I take it you met her already?"
Helen nodded, her face still hot. "On the train," she mumbled. "She came into my compartment and started making fun of Gilderoy." She glanced beyond Selma, farther down the table, where Gilderoy was jabbering away to some bored-looking older boys. "I told her to stop and she started on me."
"Hmm," Selma pursed her lips.
"Well, take that as your first lesson at Hogwarts," the boy named Benjy announced as he cut into his roast chicken. "Stay clear of Bellatrix. She'll hex you and not blink an eye."
"Just ignore her," Selma said confidently, sipping her goblet. "She'll find a new first year to torment by tomorrow morning."
Helen nodded, still too anxious to eat. She studied the students around her carefully. Benjy's attention was completely focused on his plate. He was scrawny and pale and unkempt, but his face was completely serious. Selma had turned to talk to a girl on her right. To Helen's left was another first year who had been silent the whole evening so far. Ivy Rochester. Helen remembered her name being called right before Helen's. Ivy had chin-length blonde hair and looked just as scared as Helen felt. She noticed Helen watching her, glanced over, and smiled shyly. Helen smiled back. They both relaxed and began to eat.
Helen's appetite surprised her, and by the time the food began disappearing, she felt pleasantly full.
"First year!" Benjy suddenly leapt from his seat and began waving his hand. "First year, follow me!"
"Oh wonderful, Benjy's been made a prefect." Selma rolled her eyes, and her girlfriend next to her laughed. "I guess we can't sneak out for hot cocoa at night anymore." And they waltzed away, disappearing into the crowd of dispersing students.
Helen and Ivy were left sitting in their seats alone. They glanced at each other and got up together. A small cluster of nervous first-years had formed around Benjy, and Helen and Ivy joined them. He led them out of the Great Hall and through the castle to the Ravenclaw Tower... Helen's new home.
November 4, 1981
"Helen! Helen!"
Grimes ground his teeth in annoyance as he walked back past prisoner number 900487's cell. He couldn't understand it. The dementors had been all through this area, following Grimes, Urlig, and the rest of the wizard guards as they brought newly convicted Sirius Black to his cell. Now there was a madman if Grimes had ever seen one! As soon as the gates closed to his cell, Black had started laughing uncontrollably and shrieking nonsense words. The wizards had backed away and let the dementors do their job, Black's shouts of "Wormtail! Prongs!" echoing after them down the dark, stony halls of Azkaban Prison.
The dementors' pass through the main corridor of the prison had shut up most of the other prisoners, but, unsurprisingly, the screams for "Helen!" still ruptured the otherwise controlled calm.
Grimes glanced at the prisoner as they passed, Urlig talking loudly to the other guards. The ragged, thin man had pressed himself against the rock wall of his cell, fists clenched, face screwed up in apparent agony, his voice hoarse as he continued his screams for "Helen! Helen!"
That was it. Grimes couldn't take it anymore. Prisoner 900487 had to be shut up.
I'll post another chapter very soon. Probably today. But any feedback would be lovely!