On the Precipice

Harry had a hard time falling asleep that night. He alternated between hoping that Dumbledore would suddenly appear to release him, and dreading that the suddenly talkative dementor would come back. Neither happened and Harry eventually succumbed to sleep.

He was awoken by a banging noise, followed by a loud voice. “Get up Jugson or I’ll take it to mean you don’t want your brekkie.”

More banging noises rang out as the prisoners slowly sat to await for breakfast. Harry recognized the sound of a food tray being pushed across the floor from his time with the Dursleys. Sure enough, eventually two guards entered Harry’s field of vision and slid a food tray into Albert’s cell.

“Rise and shine, Nott. Rise. And. Shine,” one of the guards mocked. Harry’s eyes widened as he realized that Albert was Albert Nott. Harry assumed he was Theodore Nott’s father or perhaps an uncle.

The two guards turned towards Harry next. Their mocking smiles stilled and Harry thought they looked a little uncertain. Harry didn’t recognize either of them from when he arrived.

“Here, Potter,” one of them said before sliding a food tray into Harry’s cell. Harry got up and made his way towards it. He nodded vaguely at them in thanks. They moved to give Malfoy his food, but each of them kept shooting glances back towards Harry. Self-consciously, he moved back to his cot and started picking at the food.

Harry easily recognized bread and the hardboiled egg, but there was a slab of something Harry assumed was some sort of meat but he couldn’t tell which kind. Harry was just experimentally poking at a few sketchy items mixed in the portion of beans, when the guards started making noise again.

“Get up, Lestrange, or I’ll take it to mean you’re not hungry,” said one of the guards. Harry’s eyes widened as he realized the guard was speaking to the man in the other cell next to Harry. He didn’t know which brother was there, but either one was bad. Shit, Harry thought, I really am surrounded.

It only got worse the more the guards travelled down the hall. They didn’t name every prisoner, but Harry definitely recognized a few Death Eater names. He wouldn’t be surprised if the entire department of mysteries arrestees were all in the same block.

“I wouldn’t look too closely,” advised Malfoy as he gestured to Harry’s food tray.

“What is it?” Harry asked, once again poking at the mystery meat and trying to ignore the fact that he’d likely be murdered if any of his fellow prisoners got out of their cells.

“No idea,” answered Malfoy. “Fortunately it tastes as bland as it smells.”

“I wouldn’t call that fortunate,” muttered Crabbe.

“Better some mystery bland thing than a mysterious pungent meal” responded Malfoy. Harry watched Malfoy scoop up some of the beans and eat it. Harry cautiously did the same. He figured if the aristocratic Malfoy could eat it, it was something Harry could manage.

Harry agreed with Malfoy’s assessment of the food being bland. The texture of the mystery meat bothered Harry just as much as its look did. However, Harry once again compared it to staying with the Dursleys. He was at least getting a full meal and he didn’t have to do the cooking.

“Meals seem to be about the only creature comfort they consistently provide,” Malfoy stated. He placed his now empty food tray in the slot where it had entered and then tapped the bar directly above it. It vanished.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. He brought his own empty tray to the slot in his cell. Glancing at Malfoy for confirmation, Harry then tapped the bar and watched his tray disappear.

“You’ll get three meals a day-” Lucius started to explain.

“Only because they’re shit and it’s just another way to torture us,” Crabbe interjected. Despite his complaints, Harry could hear him scrapping this plate for every last bit of the meal.

“I think they hope we won’t eat and end up starving to death,” Nott added. He was poking at the last bits of his food and seemed to be contemplating doing just that.

“Regardless of their motivation, they will provide food. But all other creature comforts are hit and miss,” Lucius stated.

“Except toilet paper,” added a nearby voice. “They won’t fight you on that. No one wants to be cleaning that shit up.”

The voice started laughing at his own joke but it sent an uneasy feeling twisting in Harry’s abdomen. He was already postponing the piss he had to take due to feeling a little awkward. But that would be manageable. His back would be to Malfoy and Nott and it probably won’t be any different to using a public urinal. But what was he supposed to do when he had to shit? There was no way to avoid doing so in full view of two men. Harry considered that perhaps he should start skipping meals and cut down on how often that embarrassment had to happen…

“We’re not allowed to shower often,” Lucius stated, trying to get back to the point he was making.

“How often is ‘not often’?” Harry wondered.

“About every two to three days if we’re lucky,” grumbled Malfoy.

“Three days?!” Harry exclaimed. Even the Dursleys hadn’t made him wait that long.

“Sometimes four if they’re feeling particularly vindictive,” added Nott.

“Up to a week if you’ve really pissed them off,” explained Malfoy. Harry made a disgusted face but Malfoy seemed pleased that Harry shared his outrage.

“You’ll find that many of the guards like to play mind games. They eagerly exercise whatever small amount of power they have,” Malfoy explained.

“That can’t be legal,” Harry stated slowly. He was beginning to wonder if the death eaters were just trying to mess with him in any way that they could.

“There aren’t many guards to tattle. Plus, they’re careful not to push too far. We’re cleaned up before our judicial-wizards or any high-up ministry workers see us. So, it isn’t obvious to anyone not in the building. Though I doubt the public outcry would be too loud in defense of prisoners anyway,” Lucius said.

“Don’t worry; we’re bound for a shower soon,” Nott added after a moment. He had probably meant it to be encouraging but Harry suddenly realized it would bring a whole new set of problems. It was embarrassing contemplating taking care of his bowel movements in front of two death eaters. He didn’t know how he would deal with being naked surrounded by a dozen of them. He could picture Dudley snidely telling him not to drop the soap.

“Who are you talking to?” a voice suddenly asked. It was coming from the cell next to him. Lestrange.

“Potter,” Malfoy answered.

“As in Harry Potter?” asked another voice down the hall. Murmuring broke out in various cells as word spread down the hallway. Harry figured when he arrived last night, many of them must have been asleep and were only noticing now that they had a new prisoner amongst them.

“Yes, that Potter,” drawled Malfoy. Harry thought he was enjoying himself. Someone a few cells down let out a loud laugh. The murmuring got louder and Harry’s defenses, which had been shaky since his arrest, were suddenly up and he was annoyed.

“What did you do?” asked the Lestrange brother in the cell next to him.

“Your wife,” Harry snapped. It was a juvenile response but it did make Harry feel better.

“I thought you said it was an unforgivable curse,” Malfoy drawled, still amused. Harry was thrown by how much Lucius reminded him of Draco in that moment.

“Yeah, well…” Harry stalled. He still thought it was best not to come out and admit to anything.

“Wait… are you saying- did you use an unforgiveable on my wife?” the man asked letting Harry know that the Lestrange next to him was in fact the one married to Bellatrix. As far as Harry knew, the other Lestrange brother wasn’t married. Harry didn’t answer him and refused to look at either Malfoy or Nott in case his guilt was plainly written on his face. His silence was probably just as damning.

“Which one?” pressed Lestrange but Harry still held his tongue.

“Aww, is wittle baby Potter gowing up?” mocked Lestrange. His baby-talk sounded a lot like Bellatrix had that night. “Thowing curses like a big bah-oy…”

“Shut up!” snapped Harry.

“Rodolphus…”Lucius said and his voice held a hint of warning but the man ignored him.

“Potter twinks he can fwight de big scawry death eaters? Twinks he can-”

“Shut the fuck up! You don’t know anything! Your bitch of a wife deserved worse!” Harry panted.

“So, you actually did it?” Lestrange voice lost its baby-talk teasing but still sounded deadly. “Which one was it?” he waited but only Harry’s angry panting answered him so he continued “Thought that you could curse a death eater and no one would care? Thought your status would save you, hmmm? Well, they know you’re not the shiny boy-hero now, don’t they? No, you go around cursing innocent-“

“Innocent?” Harry hissed incredulously. “She killed Sirius!”

“What?” Lestrange asked. His tirade lost its steam at Harry’s angry admission.

“Your bat-shit crazy wife killed my godfather,” Harry answered.

“Are you sure?” the man asked.

“Of course I’m sure!” Harry hissed and wondered what the man was trying to accomplish. “She did it in front of me! Weren’t you there?”

Harry looked towards Malfoy and Nott. It was insane to count on them for support but Harry didn’t know what Lestrange was trying to accomplish.

“Perhaps you better explain what happened exactly,” Malfoy answered calmly. Harry looked between him and Nott but both were wearing serious expressions and seemed to want an explanation.

“You were all there…” Harry started.

“We were… preoccupied,” answered Nott.

“Fine!” Harry hissed angrily, believing that they were trying to trick him though he couldn’t figure out how or the purpose. “Sirius and Bellatrix were dueling. I don’t know what curse she used, but Sirius- he… he froze and just fell through the veil…”

Harry trailed off. He knew if he said too much, he might start crying. He thought he had put Sirius’ death behind him, at least enough that he wouldn’t cry over it, but there was something about being in Azkaban that was tearing down his defenses.

“So, she didn’t mean to kill him,” proposed Lestrange.

“She wasn’t exactly sorry either!” Harry retorted, glad that his anger was pushing down his despair. “She ran out of the ministry bloody singing about how happy she was that she killed him!”

“Oh, well… She… That is…” Harry was surprised that Lestrange actually seemed at a loss. Neither Malfoy nor Nott seemed to be gloating either.

“Well,” Lestrange dragged out the word as he groped for a way to justify his wife’s actions. “Black was a blood traitor-”

“Blood traitor?” Harry hissed. “Bellatrix is the one killing off her family members. If anyone is a blood traitor, it is her.”

There was silence at Harry’s bold accusation. For a few minutes, he could only hear his own angry panting but it allowed him to calm down when no one immediately jumped to defend her.

“Well, good on you, Potter,” an unknown voice announced. It sounded like it was coming from the cell next to Malfoy.

“What?” Harry asked surprised.

“Good on you for avenging your godfather,” as the voice continued. “Pretty ballsy of you to kill her on ministry grounds, but-”

“I didn’t kill her,” Harry interrupted.

“Oh, well that’s disappointing,” continued the voice. Ignoring the ‘shut up’ that was hissed from Lestrange’s cell, the voice continued. “Crucio then?”

Harry was silent and only Malfoy and Nott were able to see him shift in a guilty manner.

“Come now,” the voice prodded. “We certainly won’t judge you harshly. It’s admirable that you went to defend your godfather’s honour. It’s actually impressive that one so young managed the cruciatus curse. You don-”

“Allegedly,” Harry interrupted though his voice came out weak. Was this their plan? To push at him until he admitted that he had cast the curse? Merlin, he was an idiot. He had walked straight into that one.

“Pardon?”

“I allegedly cast the cruciatus curse on Lestrange,” Harry repeated. His voice a bit stronger that time.

Malfoy and Nott laughed at that.

“Potter, if you cast an unforgivable on ministry grounds then it’s safe to assume they have irrefutable proof,” Malfoy explained.

“Oh,” Harry answered. If they could prove it, then Harry wasn’t sure how he was ever getting out of the prison.

“Right, well we all understand why you would allegedly cast the curse,” the voice continued. He also sounded amused.

“Mulciber is right-” Nott started to add before he was cut off.

“We don’t all understand it,” Lestrange cut in. “You can’t just go throwing unforgivables at people’s wives.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Harry retorted.

“He’s got you there,” Malfoy said with some amusement.

“Well, it’s not like he can condone Potter torturing his wife,” a new voice cut in. Harry was pretty sure it was the other Lestrange brother. “Considering she’s your sister-in-law, you probably shouldn’t be encouraging the boy either.”

Harry wondered why Malfoy didn’t seem upset at the news.

“Perhaps not condone it but I can understand it,” Malfoy answered. “Don’t pretend that you would have done differently. Either of you.”

“You didn’t hurt her too much, did you?” Lestrange asked. Harry wanted to retort that she deserved so much more than what she got but realized that Lestrange was concerned about his wife. It was odd to realize even death eaters had feelings and cared about their families. Harry was fighting against feeling any pity for the man. Neither he nor his wife were innocent victims.

“It didn’t really work,” Harry admitted. He knew it was something he should be proud of but he honestly felt disappointed that he hadn’t been able to hold it on her longer.

“Wait – did you or did you not cast the cruciatus curse?” asked the voice Harry now knew to be Mulciber.

“I cast it but it only worked for a second,” Harry admitted and hoped that this conversation wasn’t their plan to get him to admit it out loud.

“Why did you select that curse if you had not yet mastered it?” asked Nott. He seemed surprised by Harry’s blank look. “Was that the first time you ever tried that curse?” he asked disbelievingly.

“Yes,” Harry answered.

“And it worked?”

“Only for a second,” Harry repeated. Glancing between Nott and Malfoy, Harry could tell that they both seemed surprised.

“Bloody hell. He’s a natural,” Mulciber laughed breaking the sudden silence. “You know, under different circumstances, Rodolphus, you might have just had a new apprentice on your hands.”

“I’m not a natural,” Harry protested, disturbed by the thought.

“Actually, if you’re being honest about it-” started Nott.

“I am!” defended Harry.

“Then it actually is pretty remarkable. Very few people can get a reaction - no matter how short-lived - on their first try.”

“I was angry at the time. Maybe that’s why it worked?” Harry proposed. He didn’t want to think about being a natural at such a dark curse.

“It probably hindered you more than helped,” suggested Malfoy. “Anger can provide the desire for the curse to work, but likely made you lose focus.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “That makes more sense than what Bellatrix said… she said I’d have to mean it.”

“You do,” confirmed Lestrange.

“But I did mean it at the time. I really wanted to hurt her for killing Sirius,” Harry admitted. “It was actually frustrating that it didn’t work.”

“You’d probably be more successful if you were to try it again,” Nott proposed. Harry snorted in reply.

“Right, because that worked out so well for me this time,” Harry said and gestured around him.

“So long as you don’t keep doing so in public places – ministry property, no less, you should be able to practice with relative ease,” stated Nott. Harry gave him an incredulous look.

“Just don’t practice on my wife,” said Lestrange as if Harry was going to take Nott’s advice.

“I can’t think of anyone who would deserve it more,” Harry answered.

“Deserved or not, she would fight back,” warned Lestrange. Harry realized that the man was genuinely trying to warn Harry off. Harry wasn’t sure if he should feel flattered or horrified that that the man thought he was going to go out and start using dark curses.

“This is crazy! I’m not going to go around practicing unforgivables,” Harry said. “If I have to mean it for the curse to work, then I would need to want to hurt the person I’m casting it on. Aside from Bellatrix, I don’t really want to hurt anyone like that.”

“No one?” asked Malfoy. He pointedly raised his eyebrows. Harry immediately thought of Umbridge. When he pushed the thought of her away, it was thoughts of getting revenge on Snape that took its place. Almost immediately afterwards thoughts of cursing Voldemort, Wormtail and the Dursleys all popped into his head. Perhaps there were a few people he might want to hurt…

“Maybe… doesn’t mean I’m going to risk coming back here… if I ever get out that is,” Harry answered.

“There are other curses you could use. Doesn’t have to be an unforgivable,” suggested Lestrange. A moment later he seemed to realize what he has suggested so he hastily added, “though my wife would know the counter curses, so it would be unwise to use them against her.”

Mulciber started laughing. “Well damn, Rodolphus! Are you actually thinking of taking him on as an apprentice?”

It was surreal for Harry that shortly after the men in the cells closest to him started suggesting various hexes and curses that one could use against enemies. They seemed amused and tried to one up each other with their suggestions.

“There’s the toenail curling hex,” suggested Malfoy.

“What does that do?” asked Harry.

“It slowly peels up the toenails and then rolls them up. Before the nails can detach, they uncurl and reset properly in the foot. After a minute the process starts again,” explained Malfoy. Harry had unconsciously shifted and protectively placed his feet under his bum.

“Remind me again what the incantation for that is?” asked Nott. Both Nott and Malfoy had been watching Harry closely. Every time Harry showed a particular interest in (or revulsion to) the suggested curse or hex, one man would prompt the other for the incantation. The other man would provide it and follow up with demonstration of the correct wand movement.

“And I believe that this is the wand movement,” Malfoy stated, just as Harry predicted. He watched Malfoy twist his wrist about in an exaggerated flourish. “A little twirl motion at the end there,” Malfoy stated. When he saw Harry following his wrist movement, he repeated the demonstration.

Harry slowly copied the motions. He told himself he was just humouring them and we wouldn’t actually use something like the toenail curling hex on anyone. But he repeated the motions until both Malfoy and Nott hummed in approval.

“I believe you can manage throwing a toenail curling hex at someone,” announced Nott.

“Allegedly,” added Malfoy. He had been teasing Harry with that all morning. The teasing coming from him especially, was so reminiscent of Draco that Harry felt at once comforted and homesick.

A few more curses and hexes were suggested. Usually the men around him would laugh at each suggestion though occasionally someone would groan and admit to having been a victim of a particular spell and would complain. Despite being one of the most unbelievable conversations he had ever been privy too, Harry was enjoying himself. Harry was pretty sure Azkaban wasn’t normally filled with this much good-natured laughing, but he assumed that was exactly why the competition to think of the most outrageous hex kept going for a couple of hours. Harry was pretty sure every man in the hallway was desperately trying to think of another suggestion if only to keep the harsher thoughts at bay.

“Oh! I got one,” interrupted Crabbe. “What about the belly burning curse? It-”

“Making friends, I see,” interrupted a new voice. Burke, the guard that had escorted Harry into the cell strode into view. Harry hadn’t heard him opening the door at the end of the hallway and was surprised to see him.

“What is everyone so excited about?” Burke asked but all of the men around him had gone quite. “Come now, the boys were just telling me that they haven’t ever heard you lot quite so rowdy. I just had to come see for myself what got you all excited.”

“We were just making suggestions of spells Potter could have used instead of an unforgivable,” answered Nott in a hard voice.

“It seems Potter is woefully unaware of some of the nastier spells in existence,” added Malfoy.

The tone of voice the two of them used made it seem as if they had been threatening Harry with the curses for the past hour instead of teaching him a few. If Harry hadn’t already been warry of Burke, the smirk he gave at Malfoy’s answer would have done the trick.

“Is that so? Well, it’s a pity he won’t get the chance to ever learn them,” said Burke nastily. “Potter won’t be leaving any time soon.”

“Dumbledore will get me out,” Harry said with a confidence he didn’t feel.

“You think so, don’t you?” laughed Burke. “He won’t be able to get you out any time soon. No, you’re all ours for the time being.”

Burke paused but Harry kept quiet. He didn’t know how to respond and he hoped that if he ignored Burke, the man would move on. Unfortunately Burke was not willing to let it go.

“What, no brave comeback?” prompted Burke. When Harry didn’t respond, he tried a different tactic. “Did you sleep well?”

Again, Harry was quiet. He could see Burke getting frustrated and hoped that the man would grow tired and just leave.

“Well, if you don’t like my company Potter, I could just leave you with your new friends,” Burke tried. Harry didn’t respond though he desperately wanted to yell at the man to leave. “Of course, it must be frustrating to have to project your voice so everyone could hear you, hmmm? Perhaps you’d like some more personal visiting time? If you’re nice, I could let one of your new friends join you in your cell for an hour or two. Hmmm?”

Harry glanced in Malfoy’s direction. So far he had not seemed malicious towards Harry. None of the men had though Harry wasn’t confident that would remain the case if they had access to him and a guard’s approval to do what they liked.

“I’m sure everyone’s more comfortable in their own space,” Harry responded and sneered at Burke’s triumphant smirk.

“And how are you liking your own space? I hope you’re finding the accommodations to your liking,” Burke asked.

“It’s a bit cold,” Harry said drily. He wondered how long he would have to put with Burke.

“That can’t be helped I’m afraid. Have the dementors passed by yet? I’ll be sure to tell them to say a special hello to you,” Burke continued. Harry didn’t think the man actually knew the special attention the dementors had already paid him.

“Be sure to give them a kiss for me while you’re at it, won’t you?” Harry responded. Malfoy made a choking sound he attempted to cover with a cough. Nott was smirking and did nothing to hide it.

“You want a kiss, hmm?” Burke angrily asked. Harry was sure he was annoyed that Harry didn’t appear as rattled as he wanted. It probably didn’t help that Harry’s enemies were laughing with Harry at Burke’s expense rather than vice versa. “I could arrange to leave the door open, so you can greet the dementors properly yourself.”

When Harry didn’t respond, Burke smirked in triumph.

“Wouldn’t that be a shame? I can see it now. The headlines reporting the tragic tale of Potter getting kissed in an escape attempt. And just when Dumbledore was about to rescue him too. Such a shame it would be,” Burke mocked and leaned against Harry’s bars. Harry wanted to call Burke’s bluff but the truth was he didn’t know if the man was bluffing or not. So far, Harry hadn’t seen anything in Burke’s character that would suggested he wouldn’t let a dementor kiss one of the prisoners.

“What would your friends say about such a tragedy? Or perhaps they’ve already written you off. I wouldn’t want to associate with criminal elements,” taunted Burke.

“Then you’ve picked the wrong career, haven’t you?” pointed out Harry. Malfoy made another choking/snorting noise and Burke narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, that’s right, they are delinquents just like you. They’ll probably be joining you here soon enough. I know the aurors were questioning them,” stated Burke. Harry tried not to let his worry show. Harry could overlook Burke’s taunts about being labelled a delinquent. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened. But Harry didn’t know what happened to his friends and he was worried about them just as much as he was worried about what was happening to him. It sounded like they were still safe at Hogwarts for now.

“It’s not an unforgivable curse, but the ministry will want to make an example of them. They take break-ins very seriously,” continued Burke.

“Then they shouldn’t leave the door wide open, hmmm?” Harry asked, mimicking Burke’s own speech pattern. “We didn’t break in so much as walk in. If the ministry is so concerned about us being there they probably shouldn’t have let a bunch of teenagers mosey on in.”

“You’re not as clever as you think, Potter,” Burke responded angrily. “Doesn’t matter which way you twist it, we’ve got you here. You better get comfortable because you won’t be leaving. So, I really do hope you like the cell, the cold, and the company. You’ll grow to like these bars soon, Potter,” Burke announced as if nothing would please him more. “After all, it’ll keep you nice and safe from the dementors and the other riffraff around here.”

“Then why hasn’t it stopped you from blathering on at me?” Harry asked. He knew he shouldn’t push the man that was threatening to set him up to be kissed by the dementors, but the man just pushed all the wrong buttons. And Harry never was any good at keeping his mouth shut.

“Listen here you little-“ Burke started to angrily respond but cut himself off and glanced nervously towards the end of the hall. A moment later Harry noticed that it was getting colder which likely signaled that a dementor was on its way.

“This isn’t over,” hissed Burke. He turned in the opposite direction and left abruptly.

“Well, you’ve got some set of balls on you, that’s for sure,” commented Malfoy.

“Yeah,” Harry responded though he sounded resigned. “I just know that’s going to come back to bite me somehow.”

Considering Burke left without unlocking Harry’s cell for the dementor, Harry was pretty sure that the threat to have him kissed was just a scare tactic. However, Harry had seen enough of Burke’s personality to believe that the man would probably try to assert his dominance again somehow.

It looked like Malfoy wanted to say something more but instead he shivered and glanced in the direction the dementor was coming from. Without comment he turned into his peacock form and backed up in his cell. A glance in Nott’s direction revealed that he was in his animagus form as well.

Harry tried to brace himself but he wasn’t sure if he should expect his worse memories to play out or if he would have another disturbing conversation with a dementor.