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The Prisoner by weasley-malfoy-aficionado

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Chapter Notes: Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own any of this stuff. It's all JKR's. I am just blending her creativity with mine.

Thanks to my betas, potter-maniac and chudley canons for their constant support and encouragement. Love you guys.


Clang. Clang. Clang…

The Azkaban bells thundered proclaiming the crack of dawn. The guards started their everyday ritual of waking up all the prisoners so that they could be lined up for breakfast.

Since the downfall of You-Know-Who, Azkaban had become a livable place, thanks to Kingsley Shacklebolt, the present Minister of Magic. The first thing he had done after he was sworn-in was to abolish the nameless horrors of the wizarding prison, more commonly referred to as the Dementors. He had supervised the formation of a new Wizards’ Crime Branch and had personally assisted them to formulate new laws regarding the prison system.

In spite of all this, a prison always remains a prison.

A dreary place where you are locked away from the outer world. A place where you lose your identity and are reduced to a mere number. A place where every day felt like hell, every minute like a lifetime, every step a mile and every meal merely a mode of sustenance.

Those were the exact thoughts that invaded his mind every morning the guards came to wake him up: banging on his prison rails with heavy iron sticks and hurling insults of every kind.

Today was no exception.

He had been lying awake since midnight as usual waiting for the guard to come and supposedly wake him up. He was now accustomed to this morning ritual. He loved the way in which he tricked them. It was a small game which entertained him daily.

–They think that I am asleep and they are the ones to wake me up,” he murmured and that very thought made him sneer. He felt that he was superior to them in this regard. They had no idea that they were being fooled everyday. The thought instilled in him a sense of accomplishment and made him marvel at this remarkable feat.

These petty occasions were the only ones which amused him nowadays. Otherwise his life was lonely. His life was void. His life was empty…

–Wake up!”

He was jolted out of his reverie by the yelling guard. With smug satisfaction, he pulled himself up from his bunk and left his cell (if you could call that cubbyhole so) to join his prison mates for breakfast.

Breakfast.

The mere audacity of the prison officials to call the rubbish they served so made him sick to the stomach. He wouldn’t have offered that kind of food to even his house elves during his old days.

The good old days…

The memory of those days filled him with a great longing. How he wished he could live his old lifestyle again. How he missed his comfortable bed, his luxurious bath, his lavish house, his scented gardens, his mother, her…

Her…

It had been months since he had last seen her. Since he had held her for the last time.

She had been looking radiant in a simple white shirt and navy blue jeans. He still remembered the most minute details of the day. How her soft brown hair had been billowing in the wind. How she had held his hand and promised to stay by his side always. How she hadn’t let a single tear escape her eyes even though he had wept openly. How she had breathed her last in his very arms just because he had been powerless to save her and foolish enough to believe the Dark Lord.

–I will always be around you,” she had managed in a voice so feeble that he had to lean towards her to make out what she was saying, –I want you to remember that you are the truest friend I ever had.”

–No,” he had wanted to scream aloud until he was hoarse but instead he could only stare at her beautiful face and shed unstoppable tears.

Only he knew how much he wanted to tell her that she was more than just a friend for him but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

–Come on, you prat. Leave the girl. Surely you can find another. But there is only one Dark Lord,” his father had snuck up behind him and roughly shove him off her.

He had screamed, threatened, cursed and even begged his father to let him go and meet her for one last time: gather her in his arms and inhale the scent of her sweet smelling hair but his cruel father hadn’t yielded to his pleas.


That was the day he had sworn revenge.

Revenge on all the people who had taken her away from him.

His father, his aunt, his master…

–Hey you, 33006,” a guard poked him in the ribs, –Get going. Just don’t stand there. Others want to eat too.”

Another guard pushed him forward and he fell on his knees scraping them badly on the cold stone floor.

–He is bleeding, you dolt,” an official scolded the guard who had pushed him; –The Minister will kill us if he comes to know that a prisoner was physically tortured.”

–I didn’t do it purposefully,” the convict replied, his face ashen, –Besides; he isn’t being physically tortured.”

Ignoring him, the official rushed towards the fallen man and helped him to a nearby chair.

–Are you hurt?” he asked, concern etched upon his face.

–Concern? Fear more likely,” the prisoner thought and chuckled slightly.

–Are you hurt?” the official repeated raising his voice.

He shook his head in the negative partially because he wanted to get rid of the man but partially because he had experienced worse.

He ate his porridge with disgust, mentally conjuring up images of sumptuous meals he had enjoyed with her and smiled inwardly at the memory.

He finished up as soon as humanly possible and returned to the sanctuary of his cell. It was one place devoid of any human company. It had become a cocoon for him to hide from his miseries and safeguard his memories.

Memories were all he had now and he didn’t want to let them dissipate. Already he had started to forget his first meeting with her and that was frightening him and driving him insane both at the same time.

Suddenly there were footsteps outside his cell and a seemingly bored guard appeared and announced that he had a visitor.

He hadn’t had a visitor since he was thrown into this cubbyhole by Potter and his kind. It had been made sure that he was one of the top priority prisoners which meant no visitors and no letters.

The guard called out again and cursed under his breath which echoed in the drab atmosphere.

Puzzled and afraid, Draco got up and followed him. He was led to a small room where there was a small wooden table in the center with two chairs on either side of it.

–Just go through the door at the far end and you will find her waiting,” the guard recited in a monotone and left before Draco could even open his mouth.

–Her?” he wondered aloud.

Overcome by curiosity he let his inhibitions down and proceeded towards the prescribed door.
He was surprised to find his hands shaking and sweat beads rolling off his forehead in spite of the chilly atmosphere. Gathering his courage and telling himself not to be so stupid, he pushed open the heavy oak door.

The first sight that met his eyes was of a white cotton summer dress fluttering due to the wind and chocolate brown curls dancing in the air.

She was standing with her back to him gazing out of the large window at the lush green meadows beyond.

He coughed lightly to make his presence known.

–Hello, Brooder,” she said in a voice as sweet as honey but which was also frighteningly familiar, –Long time no see.”

He was horrorstruck. It couldn’t be... She couldn’t be…

–You…how…?” he stuttered.

–Sit down, Brooder. I have a lot to tell you,” she said in a placid voice and finally turned to look him in the eye.

He suddenly felt weak in the knees and wanted to sit down. Grabbing the chestnut chair waiting by the door, he sank into it.

He looked at her. Those were the same eyes that he had seen the light leave. The same face whose outlines he had wanted to trace but couldn’t because of his father. That was the same girl that had taught him how to live and lighted up his life. The girl who showed him how to laugh. The girl who helped him love…

He couldn’t believe his eyes but how couldn’t he? Wasn’t that the moment he had been wishing to come true? Wasn’t that what he dreamt every night since that fateful day?

How much he wanted to talk to her. To tell her how much he loved her, what she meant to him, how ecstatic he was to see her…

He opened his mouth but was horrified when a single word escaped his parched lips, –Granger?”


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