
Azkaban
Lucius sat on the bed. To say he was angry was putting it mildly. He did feel betrayed, even if a smart, rational part of his brain told him Severus had been right. The Dark Lord, in the end, just for his demise, was insane. Truth be told, when Abraxas joined him, the Dark Lord had several good ideas. For some reason, over time, those ideas were overshadowed by attacks on Muggles and Muggleborns.
Now Lucius was not a vicious man. He loved his wife and son deeply and could care about others, he just didn’t like Muggles. Unrefined, the lot of them. It wasn’t until he met his wife, that he learned a different way. For Narcissa, even if she was a Black, didn’t mind Muggles as much and even enjoyed shopping among them. Not that she bragged about that, for that was simply not done.
Narcissa joined him by sitting next to him on the bed and she grabbed his hand. ‘Talk to me,’ she asked him. He looked over at her. ‘What do you think?’ he countered. ‘Well, dear…it took courage to tell us all this. About what he did and about the girl. That she somehow is still out there somewhere is baffling, but I have a pretty good idea what might have happened.’
Lucius took her in his arms and they cuddled for a while. ‘Luc, have you ever heard of the Endless?’ He thought about it and no, he had not. So Narcissa explained to him that the Endless were beings, older than time and existed because humanity existed. She told him about Desire, Death, Delirium, Dream, Despair, Destruction and Destiny.
‘I think that maybe the Endless have interfered. From what Sev told us, the Codex the Goblins used, is Death’s Codex. She is one of the Endless.’
Contemplating his wife’s words, Lucius frowned. It was a lot to take in, but he trusted his wife blindly and was willing to go on a little faith here. ‘So what do we do?’
‘We do what we always do Luc. We look after ourselves and Draco.’
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Back at Hogwarts, in his chambers, Severus went over the evening with Minerva, who had waited for him to return. The night was not a complete failure, for he was alive and well, but Severus didn’t know if the powerful family would support him.
‘I think they will, after all, Narcissa is the ultimate Slytherin and will do what is best for the future of her child, Draco, right?’ Severus nodded. Draco would start Hogwarts next year. ‘Everything is ready. Amelia has the evidence she needs and tomorrow, Albus is in for quite a surprise.’
Both were lost in thoughts about the Headmaster, who was in his office, going over the proceedings for the trial. He, as Chief Warlock, would lead the trial. The Muggles would go to Azkaban. It should be an easy win and when the trial was over, he would be the benevolent leader, whom people could look up to. He expected minor backlash from his own involvement, he would simply state that he was under the assumption that the girl would be loved. And her placement there was for the greater good.
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Azkaban was built on a tiny island in the middle of the North Sea by a crazy and cruel wizard, who lured Muggle sailors to him, to torture them to death. This was long ago and the Ministry stumbled across the island by sheer accident. The Dementors already inhibited the island, so a treaty was formed and Azkaban prison was now a place for not only murderers and rapists, but also for wixen who simply performed small criminal acts. It was a ghastly place and no wixen lingered there for longer than strictly necessary.
No one knew for certain what the Dementors were and how they were created. In most books, their physical description was at a point, but how a Dementor came to be, was unknown. Wixen knew Dementors used happy memories as food and could perform the Kiss. They left feelings of despair and misery, not to mention they looked like the Grim Reaper. Because they already inhabited the island and their skills were useful to imprison wixen, they became the guards of Azkaban.
In the middle of the night, Dream materialized on the island and walked over to the gate. The winds were howling and rain poured from the skies. Just on the outside of the fortress was a little cabin, that functioned as an office. New prisoners came through here and the human guards that handled the paperwork lived there.
If on guard duty, the wizard or witch would remain on the island for a period of a week. They had a talisman, to protect their minds from the influences of the Dementors. At this particular night, the guard was sound asleep.
Dream went inside the fortress. His sister Despair would feel right at home. Gloomy and dark, smelly and filthy. The Dementors saw the King of Dreams walking through the hallways and left him alone. They had no business with him. Dream reached the lower levels, reserved for the most dangerous wixen, such as Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband. Another inhabitant of the lower levels was Sirius Black, the reason for Dreams’ visit this evening.
Prisoners were screaming and trashing in their sleep. Dream, as King of Nightmares, knew about this, but almost everyone in her had committed unspeakable acts of cruelty, so he felt no obligation to absolve them. The same could not be said about the reason for his visit. Death told him about this wizard. He came to alleviate the wizard’s sanity, by giving him protection against the Dementors.
Imagine Dream’s face, when he reached the cell he was looking for and found not a man, but a large black dog. The animal was skinny and filthy. Dream simply stepped through the bars and squatted down in front of the dog. The dog was sleeping but sensed someone was in his cell, so he opened his eyes. In front of him was a man, dressed in black. Messy hair, pale face, sharp features. The dog was alarmed and started growling. To this the man smiled and waved his hand, turning the dog into a man. ‘We must talk, Sirius Orion Black.’