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PT: TWO
Third Person Perspective
Sebastian Sallow's head laid low. It hadn't even been two hours. Not even two hours and he was dreading it. His body weight was already hanging low against those rusty chains and he breathed shakily.
A bit of saliva droplets came out of Sebastian's glossy lips as he already began to lose his mind in the darkening setting, losing focus. It was hell. A living nightmare.
Clink.
The noise of the metals blocking his way screeched and Sebastian looked up at the sight of the Azkaban guards, again.
"Don't give up, yet," One chuckled, "At least keep a smile for your mugshot."
The guards dragged out Sebastian like a rag from that cell. He held in his whimper from the cold touch of the floor below the bare feet and kept his breaths low as they passed the other prisoners.
Sebastian kept his eyes closed, avoiding the dementors above, but even closed, he felt them. He saw them flashing in the back of his head. Not even darkness can cure anything at this point.
A certain pop was made and re-opening his eyes, Sebastian scanned his surroundings.
He couldn't even observe it before he was dragged again near a blank space room, a few Ministry workers huddling him.
"Sebastian Sallow. 1874. Adult," The lady scanned the papers, "Accused of the death of his uncle, and former Auror, Solomon Sallow, becoming an Animagus without registering after two months of form, and, etc."
Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek, distracting himself with the chains over the two hands, and listened to every crime committed. All that guilt and memories he's tried avoiding. It was all there right in his face.
Distracted, a guard shoved a piece of a heavy plate over Sebastian's torso. Sebastian groaned a little from the hard push of the item below him while he shakily took hold of it.
AZKABAN PRISON 174
Besides the numbers, he studied two symbols. Sebastian took Ancient Runes most of his years at Hogwarts, he was able to distinguish them beside his plate; Eywas and Algiz.
"Up!" A guard shouted at Sebastian, noticing the studying.
Sebastian hesitated but lifted his head, not smiling once as he held the plate in hand and a certain flash bothered him.
He was sick. Embarrassed. The thought of this showing on the covers of the Daily Prophet haunted him. He didn't want this. Let alone, what about his friends?
