He couldn't get warm. No matter how many warming charms were sent at him, no matter how many blankets were piled on, no matter how close to the fire he sat. It was like the North Sea had seeped into his very bones.
Fourteen years in isolation with only the Dementors and sounds of screaming for company had him feeling so numb and empty. Like Azkaban had taken everything that made him who he was and left a shell.
The Lord LeStrange no more, just a husk, held together with the fraying cords of his magic and the infection of his so called Lords Mark.
He didn't think he had lost his mind. He knew who and where he was. But that reptilian monstrosity that was supposedly The Dark Lord...surely he wasn't the only one who thought this must be some kind of joke?
That..that thing was the most powerful wizard of all time? He was barely human, let alone a wizard at all. How was He any better than the half breeds and beasts. Even Fenrir with all his savagery looked mostly human some of the time.
He looked around the long table in the grand dining room of Malfoy manner at his equally bedraggled and frail looking comrades. This? This was the Dark Lords grand army? Maybe once, but the tell tale signs of madness among them was in abundance. Where there were once learned men, there sat now nothing but cruelty and insanity in varying degrees.
Bellas shrieking laugh, like nails down a blackboard shook him from his thoughts. She was once a great beauty, not that he had ever truly loved her but he thought he may have been able to grow to.
It was not to be, even before Azkaban stole the last of her mind, she was cold, wicked and not remotely interested in being his wife in anything other than name.
A small cough drew his attention from her mad bloodlust clouded ramblings. He looked down the table to the source. His grey eyes met indigo. He took in the man infront of him. A knotted matte of chocolate curls, a scruffy beard hiding what were always sharp cheekbones, worn down to a razors edge by emaciation. But the eyes, still bright, still intelligent. Perhaps Azkaban had not stolen his friend? A quirked eyebrow towards Bella and he rolled his deep blue eyes, the shadow of a smirk on his lips. The small smile returned. Perhaps he wasn't so alone among the crazies.
Sat next to Antonin, his heart broke to see his little brother. Sad eyes stared at the grain of the table, unseeing. His sandy brown hair that once shone like burnished bronze, now filthy in twisted rats tails. Dirty fingers with black nails twisted and tugged at the ends of his loose ponytail, as if the repetitive motion was soothing him. His lips moving to some whispered prayer that was for no ones ears but his alone.
Further up the table, those who had escaped Azkabans clutches or were new recruits, he wasn't sure. Easy to spot the marked difference. They were clean and healthy. He took in the massive frame of a young man that could only be Thorfinn Rowle. He looked healthy and hale but apparently eager to leave.
Next to him Corban, he was glad to see him looking well, the years had been far kinder to the Scot. He was still as handsome as he remembered, though his once blonde hair was more grey.
Rodolphus risked a glance to the top of the table. Lucius the pompous prat, sat at the Lords right hand. Still handsome, still refined. Shame about the perpetual sneer. Narcissa sat next to him. Her beautiful face completely blank, looking down demurely. The picture of the perfect Pureblood Spouse. The polar opposite to her sister, his wife.
The Dark Lord was speaking again, but his ears felt full as if he were beneath water. Something about taking over the Wizarding World, blah blah. He just wanted to go home, get clean and sleep.
Food was served. His fellow escapees tore into the meal with gusto, but the too rich smells of meat curdled his stomach. Gingerly, he plated some of the vegetable and bread. Taking small bites. It's should have been vibrant and delicious but all he tasted was ash.
Not soon enough they were dismissed. A warm hand on his shoulder. He looked up into Corbans face and rose to greet him. Ashamed of his state of dress. That he must stink. He started to apologise but Corban simply pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Come on lad time to go home."
He nodded in acceptance, noting Rabastan standing a little back, still twisting his hair, still muttering.
Corban apparated the LeStrange brothers back to their Estate. The ancient blood wards accepting them immediately. Like the Manor was waking up from a long slumber, the doors opened and the sconces lit as the trio entered.
"Your wands lads."
With shaking hands Rodolphus reached for his. Rabastan hadn't acknowledged he'd been spoken to, so Rodolphus took his brothers as well.
Corban gazed at the younger LeStrange with sadness.
"He just needs time and he'll be right as rain."
The elder simply nodded. Though they both knew it was a lie. Some afflictions would need more time than they had.
Corban left shortly after to see to the others. Roddy led his brother by the hand to his rooms, speaking gently to him. Explaining they were home now. Safe.
He bathed his baby brother. Just as he had done when they were children. Only now there were no bubbles and giggles, just incessant muttering and vacant stares.
He'd had to change the water four times before it ran clear. Their fingers pruned by the time the last of the prisons filth was rinsed away. He dressed his brother in warm flannel pajamas and put him in the Master bed, tucking him in before having his own shower.
Once he was clean he dressed in matching pajamas. Avoiding looking into the mirror, afraid of what he would see. He climbed into the otherside of the bed, lowering the sconces but leaving them lit.
His jobs done, only then did the tears fall. Tears for being clean at last, for being free of prison but still enslaved. Tears for his brother. Tears for those who had once been his friends amd tears for the tasks that would be asked of him.
A rasping whisper in the near darkness.
"No Roddy, big boys don't cry. No tears."
Rabastan rolled over to face him, and gently wiped the streaks of tears from his cheeks.
"Big boys be brave now"
He whispered and cuddled into his brothers chest. The two men held each other as exhaustion overtook them and swept them to sleep.