Lone Wolf | SIRIUS BLACK

Chapter Thirty

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January, 1977

HELL WAS how I imagined Azkaban prison. Full of Dark wizards and witches, it was a place that warped and destroyed its inhabitants. Dementors fed on everything happy in prisoner's memories, so they could have the strength to guard the prison. Losing all happiness and only feeling bitter cold and emptiness was a sure cause for prisoners' insanity.

After all, it was a messed up place, devoid of law, humanity and compassion. Anything would lose its mind in a place where humanity was miles upon miles away.  Part of me couldn't believe I was going there. Going there for murder. I was as bad as anyone else in there, and the Dementors would make certain I suffered. It was the last wish of Constance's parents before I was whisked away.

Rot.

Die.

In that specific order, because suffering wasn't suffering if it wasn't prolonged. I had to hurt first. I had to feel what they felt when they were informed their daughter, an innocent guilty of nothing but curious concern, was dead.

"How long do you think it'll last?"

"Couple hours is my guess."

The guards talked amongst themselves about me, right outside of my cell in the Ministry as I curled in on myself and pretended this wasn't happening.  But I could only pretend until the last hour was upon me.  Then I would have to face my reality.

"That won't make the dead girl's parents happy."

"Not like we can make it survive. It's beyond broken."

"Look at it rocking back and forth on the floor like that. Insane even before the Dementors."

I stopped rocking.

"That's enough. If we're making guesses, we may as well put some money where our mouths are. Boys?"

I heard money being exchanged. Coins clinking against each other as they went from owner to owner.

"You're going to lose. It won't last a second in there."

"It killed someone. Maybe that means it's tougher than you think."

It.

I didn't even garner a proper name now. I wasn't worth that much to them. To anyone. I was something horrific, who inspired money deals for how long it would take before I was destroyed.

"Please.  It killed once, a child no less. The things in that place...  they'll tear it apart.  Death will be a welcoming gift."

I was afraid that they were right.

~

I shut down when we arrived, apparating to the prison.  My eyes were instantly drawn to the outside world, which I wouldn't get to experience ever again.  Looking out a sliver of a window, I saw that Azkaban was plagued by storming, a downpour of eternal rain it seemed, and thunderclaps that made the whole black sky shudder.  The strokes of lighting, so decisive and bright, was the only light source I could see outside of the prison.