On the Precipice

They didn't jump into teaching Harry spells like they had planned. Instead, Nott gave Harry an overview of what to expect during his first meeting with his judicial-wizard and what to say to the guards if they stalled and tried to deny him access to representation.

Given the minister's visit, Lucius was keen to go over the finer points of politics. While Harry was onboard to complain about Fudge and Scrimgeour's failings, he found the historical perspective Lucius provided to be dry. He tried to focus. He knew that it was useful information given the oppositional stance he had with the ministry now. Unfortunately, the subject couldn't hold his interest for long. Fortunately he wasn't the only one.

"Oi! That's enough of that for one day," said Mulciber. "I got a couple of charms Potter might want to know."

Lucius looked annoyed but allowed the subject to be changed.

Mulciber first taught him the spell to temporarily improve one’s sense of smell. It was a good thing that he couldn’t cast the charm at the moment. Being prevented from showering for a few days made Harry self-conscious of his smell. He didn’t need to improve his senses anymore than they already were. However, it was a simple enough spell that he might remember it once he had his wand.

Mulciber also taught Harry what he called the finger trap jinx. It forced an opponent to clap their hands and interlock their fingers.  Nothing prevented the person from immediately separating their hands, but it might give Harry the time needed to fire off a more complex spell. Plus, his opponent might drop their wand in the process. Harry wondered why none of the Death Eaters had used that spell on him previously, but as he caught Nott surreptitiously copying Harry’s movements, he realized he wasn’t the only one learning new spells.

During his turn to teach Harry something, Crabbe decided to combine herbology and potions. Crabbe told him about a flower that on its own is benign, but if fertilized by unicorn dung, it glowed and could be used in potions. After describing the flower, Crabbe transitioned into potion lesson. Rather than describe a particular potion, he talked about the effects that flower’s stem and petals might have on potions. This led to Macnair jumping in to talk about unicorns and their properties.  While Harry had covered unicorns already, this review helped him make the links between classes.

When the unicorn conversation naturally died down, Rodolphus insisted his lesson be next. Harry was reluctant to learn more dark arts spells. Initially the dark arts tutoring had come off as a joke. When the men had first started suggesting spells, Harry had seen it as fun and a way for them to good-naturedly tease him. It seemed different when they tried to interweave it with his regular sixth year spells.

“I won’t review any defense spells if you are so closed minded about the dark arts themselves,” snipped Rodolphus.

Sensing that Harry was more than willing to forgo defense review if it came tied with dark arts, Lucius decided to cut in.

“What if, for every dark art spell the Lestrange brothers teach you, they show you two defense spells? Preferably one of those defense spells would be to counter or heal the effects of that dark spell,” Lucius proposed.

“Fine,” Harry reluctantly agreed. He knew it would help him to know various counters to dark spells. Furthermore, of all his professors, Snape was the least likely to cut Harry some slack for having missed classes due to imprisonment. Harry would benefit from the defense review.  

Rodolphus Lestrange taught him a spell that mimicked birthing contractions in its victim. Harry was glad that the man couldn’t demonstrate the effects of the spell as Harry wasn’t sure he’d be safe if the man was able to properly teach him.

“Just don’t use it on anyone who is pregnant as it might induce labour,” warned Rabastan Lestrange after Lucius confirmed that Harry had the proper stance and wand movement. “Unless that’s the outcome you’re hoping for.”

“I don’t plan to use it on anyone,” Harry asserted. These men might be keen on corrupting Harry, but that didn’t mean he had to use his new knowledge against anyone… except maybe Voldemort. Harry thought it would be some great cosmic joke if he managed to defeat the dark lord using a curse one of his servants taught him.

“You know, this was Belly’s favourite curse before she mastered the cruciatus curse,” Rodolphus reminisced, sounding fond. It took Harry a moment to realize that ‘Belly’ was Bellatrix. He would have laughed at the nickname if he didn’t have such a vivid mental image of the woman cursing a bunch of men to feel the pain of labour and then cackling at their misery.

As promised, Rodolphus did teach Harry two defense spells. Since the curse did not have a counter, Lestrange taught Harry a spell that would help alleviate pain. Harry found it useful as it could be used against headaches, though it lacked the potency a potion would have. For the second spell, Lestrange taught him a manticore repelling charm. Harry did not think it would come in that handy, but he still made an effort to learn it.

Inspired by Lestrange choosing one of his wife’s favourite spell, Lucius decided to review a spell that had amused Draco as a child, long before he had attended Hogwarts.

“I’m sure you must have at least seen the draconifor spell,” Lucius stated. Harry vaguely remembered it from his third year. “Normally the dragons are small, but you could increase their size for a more… spectacular effect.”

Lucius was more precise in his directions and stressed the importance of the wand movements. Harry thought the man was a tad frustrated that he couldn’t directly correct Harry’s stance. It would have been easier if the man could manhandle Harry into the correct position. Eventually Lucius was satisfied that Harry would be able to perform the magic once he had his wand.

“If you also change the colours of the dragons, you can keep kids entertained for hours,” Lucius suggested. Harry didn’t know when he would be expected to entertain young children for hours but didn’t say so.  It was clear to Harry that Lucius was recalling happier days. Harry could almost picture Lucius transfiguring random objects in his son’s room into dragons that pranced about. Just before Draco got bored, Lucius would make them increasingly bigger.

“Did Draco also have dragon footy pajamas?” wondered Harry. He was mentally picturing a young Draco dressed as a dragon and chasing his father’s transfigured dragons around the room.

Before Lucius could answer him, the door at the end of the hallway opened. The guards came through passing out the prisoners’ dinner. Harry was depressed to see it was the same bland meal they always got but elected not to skip it.

The door at the end of the hall opened a second time, but Harry was busy poking at the mystery meat, so he didn’t register the significance until Burke leaned against the bars of his cell and spoke.

“How’s your meal?” smirked Burke, knowing Harry found it to be subpar.

“Not as salty as you,” snarked Harry, before he consciously thought about it. His stomach turned as he looked up at Burke and was reminded of what the man had done to him. Harry stopped eating in fear he’d throw up just at the sight of the man.

Burke no longer looked amused. Harry felt his hands start to tremble as he watched Burke, so he clenched them on the meal tray hoping Burke wouldn’t notice the impact his presence had. Harry could still hear the other guards passing out the meals further down the hall, but that didn’t mean they would stop Burke if he wanted to hurt him. After all, Wiblin helped Burke give Harry the prison tattoo.

“You’ll want to watch it, Potter,” warned Burke. “You might think you’re the big man just because you’re friends with the minister, but while you’re in here, you’re mine.”

There were so many things wrong with that statement that Harry struggled to pick something to address first.

“What?” he said, blinking owlishly.

“You think I don’t know that you went crying to the minister about your well-deserved tattoo?” Burke sneered. “Did you think you would get me fired? Well boy, I have news for you. It doesn’t matter who you know, or how much money you have, it means nothing in Azkaban.”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Harry. Then, just to spite Burke, he added, “the minister and I had more important things to discuss than you.”

Burke gave Harry a look so foul that not even the Dursleys could hope to match it. Harry knew it wasn’t smart to antagonize the man. Burke had already shown he was willing to hurt Harry. He wouldn’t be satisfied until Harry was broken and miserable. But there was a part of Harry that couldn’t back down even if it was the healthiest, safest option. He hadn’t done so for uncle Vernon, aunt Petunia, or Dudley. Snape had tried with limited success. Hell, even Voldemort would be able to tell Burke it took a lot more to keep Harry down. So, while Harry stared at Burke’s blotchy face, he determined that this pathetic man would not be the one to break him.

“Don’t think you’re so special, Potter. The minister doesn’t care about you. He is only worried about his own image,” sneered Burke.

“I’m well aware,” Harry said, trying to sound disinterested.

“You’re not special,” Burke pressed as if repeating it would somehow hurt Harry more.

“I’m aware,” Harry parroted back. Usually when his uncle said much the same to him, Vernon was satisfied to hear Harry agree. When Harry was younger, he had tried sticking up for himself, but that only lead to more chores or being sent to his cupboard. Eventually Harry discovered that if he agreed with Vernon then the man would decide he’d filled his daily quota of making Harry miserable. Harry wondered if the same strategy might work with Burke. In a lot of ways Burke reminded him of Vernon; they both had the same misplaced sense of superiority. Unlike Vernon, Burke wasn’t satisfied with Harry’s insincere agreement. Instead it seemed to pull all the air out of Burke’s sails, which pissed him off more.

“And the wizarding world is catching on,” Burke continued. “They know their supposed golden boy is tarnished. Why, you’re practically as dark as you-know-who.”

Perhaps Burke wasn’t too far off the mark, because a dark part of Harry very much wished that one of the surrounding Death Eaters would find a way to relay that comment back to Voldemort. Someone who went by the moniker “dark lord” would likely take offense to such a bold claim, and consequently try to prove who the darker wizard was by using Burke as target practice.

“I imagine your parents would be so disappointed,” Burke continued.

“Watch it,” Harry warned. He could not pretend to be unaffected if the man tried to sully the name of his parents. Unfortunately, Burke caught on to this.

“Yes, they would be so disappointed. They must have had such high hopes for you if they were willing to die protecting you. So misguided in retrospect,” taunted Burke. “I wonder if they’d think it was all worth it. If they could see you now, they’d know their lives were squandered. Why I think your mum would even-”

“And I think you should stop talking about my mum,” Harry warned.

“Oh! Mummy issues? I would have guessed you had daddy issues. Perhaps it’s both?” taunted Burke.

“Speaking from experience?” countered Harry.

“No,” Burke muttered, annoyed with Harry’s constant talkback. “Tell me how it works. Which motherly type is attractive? Someone to coddle you? Or, do you like it when they nag you? Is that why you cursed Lestrange? Did she remind you of mummy? Hoped she’d spank her naughty boy for using spells he shouldn’t know? I bet you would have loved-”

“Shut your mouth before something happens to it,” threatened Harry. His mum and Bellatrix were nothing alike, and he found it vile to even compare the two.

“Oh, what are you going to do to me, Potter?” laughed Burke. “You’re trapped in a cell. I still have my wand. Please give me an excuse to use it.”

Burke might think he was safe, but Harry was starting to feel the same way he had right before he blew up aunt Marge. The magic felt particularly potent given that Burke’s insults played upon in his negative feelings towards Bellatrix. Unfortunately, when Harry tried to actively reach for it, his magic seemed to slip out of his grasp.

The tension between the two of them was broken by one of the guards calling out to Burke from the end of the hall. They had finished handing out the meals on this floor and were ready to move on. Burke frowned in their direction, clearly unwilling to leave.

“You’d best get back to your job. At least while you still have one. You know, since my friend, the minister, is unhappy with you,” it was an empty threat, but Harry was satisfied that Burke actually looked worried for a moment.

“Oh, I’ll leave. Since I can do that. I can leave whenever I want. I’m a free man, unlike you who isn’t getting out of here. Ever,” Burke remarked as he left his spot near Harry’s cell and joined his coworkers. Harry stewed in his anger as he listened to Burke’s footsteps move down the hall. Harry stared blankly at where Burke had stood, imagining what could have happened if he’d been able to do wandless magic. It was only when the hallway door closed behind the guards that Harry snapped out of it.

“Ugh! That man is such a... a...,” Harry struggled to find a word that was insulting enough for an idiot like Burke. He couldn’t find one that properly articulated his feelings about the man, so he settled for something Dudley and his cronies used, “fart-knocker!”

“A what?” yelled Mulciber before he burst into laughter.

Harry blushed. “Just something my cousin says,” he mumbled.

“Fart-knocker,” howled Mulciber, while the Lestrange brothers giggled. “I have to use that some time.”

“Er, I think it’s a muggle thing,” warned Harry.

“Doesn’t matter,” responded Mulciber. “That’s gold.”

“It’s hardly witty,” muttered Lucius as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, don’t be such a sad sack,” was the response. “Don’t pay him any mind, Potter. Lucius is too classy to use any of the good insults.”

“Or, you’re not intelligent enough to grasp the brilliance of any verbal abuse I send your way,” came the haughty response from Lucius. Despite the words, Harry thought the two men were good naturedly teasing each other... mostly.

“Alright then,” Mulciber issued a challenge. “You dazzle us with your witty repertoire. What’s your best insult?”

Lucius sprouted off some Shakespearean-sounding insults, to which Crabbe moaned “I don’t even know what that means.” It set off the other men to suggest their favourite slurs to help improve Lucius’ name-calling skills. Privately, Harry rather liked Lucius’ suggestions and made a mental note to call someone a ‘bawdy growth’, a ‘clump of foul larvae’, or an ‘ill-bred merrow’ at some point in the future.

“If you want to keep it high-brow, just call them peasants,” suggested Nott.

“I say stick to classics like ‘wanker’ and ‘git’,” suggested Avery.

“It doesn’t have the same kick though, does it? Potter, what else you got for us?” asked Mulciber. Harry ran through uncle Vernon’s more creative insults as well as the ones he picked up from the Weasley brothers over the years. All in all, the men spent close to forty minutes calling out any insult that came to mind. Harry used Burke as inspiration to come up with increasingly vulgar names.

The rest of the evening was spent talking about inane topics. Some of the Death Eaters spoke about the jobs they had prior to their arrest. They had asked him what profession he planned to pursue, but Harry he hadn’t thought of a backup plan since realizing that being an auror was no longer feasible. Lucius observed that Harry had enough money that he probably didn’t need to work if he didn’t want to. Both Lucius and Nott were independently wealthy, so they had spent their time schmoozing people in power in order to influence them. They found it to be quite satisfactory.

Harry thought it was sweet that Crabbe mostly told stories about his son, though it was clear that the man thought his son to be far more intelligent than he was. Harry didn’t burst his bubble. Since a lot of Crabbe’s stories inevitably included his son’s closest friends, Lucius jumped in to talk about Draco as well. While Lucius likewise spoke highly of his son, he seemed more aware of Draco’s flaws, so Harry didn’t question the validity of each tale like he had with Crabbe.

Harry found out that Draco’s mother had bought him dragon footy pajamas afterall. Being the spoiled brat that he is, Draco had pulled a tantrum because he wanted puffskein pajamas instead. Narcissa had searched five stores the next day until she found a puffskein version. Draco had ended up wearing both sets until he outgrew them. Harry told himself that his appreciation for the story was because he could now tease Draco about his love for puffskeins. It had nothing to do with how endearing he assumed a young Draco looked in footy pajamas.

Both Lucius and Crabbe shared stories about the summer hijinks their sons got up to. As Harry tried to fall asleep that night, he kept wondering if he would have been part of the story had he accepted Draco’s friendship in their first year at Hogwarts. Harry didn’t regret sticking up for Ron, but he still spent the night playing the “what if” game. It kept him up longer than it should have.

In the morning, the other prisoners remarked that they had a good night’s sleep. After some speculation, Nott realized it was because the dementors hadn’t done their nightly patrol. While the other prisoners celebrated the reprieve, Harry couldn’t help but worry about it. After their initial interest in him, it probably wouldn’t bode well if they had decided to start avoiding him.

Harry’s other problem was that his general body order really was becoming quite rank. Azkaban apparently didn’t believe in deodorant. Probably because it was too cold to work up a proper sweat.

“Uh! This is how Snape must feel every day,” Harry complained as he ran his hand through his greasy hair. Even though the Lestrange brothers and Mulciber couldn’t see him, they must have gotten a sense of what he was referring to as they laughed at his comment. Lucius tried to explain that Snape’s potions work messed with his hair, but Harry didn’t buy it. If that were the case, Slughorn would also be a greasy mess.

Harry used the bar of soap in his cell to at least wash his face. He didn’t have a mirror, but he could feel some pimples popping up due to lack of hygiene and the stress of being sent to Azkaban. He was rather glad that his breakfast that morning came with a new bar of soap, even if it was about the same size as the bars provided in muggle hotel rooms.

Perhaps inspired by his comment about Snape, the men decided Harry should start today’s lessons with potions. Since Crabbe had shown he was quite knowledgeable in the subject, Harry decided to ask him some fundamental questions. He was slightly embarrassed when the others seemed surprised that Harry didn’t already know the more essential aspects of potion making. Harry addressed this embarrassment by venting about Snape’s (lack of) teaching style. His tirade was eventually interrupted by Lestrange commenting that Harry sounded like Bellatrix when she bitches about Snape. Harry pouted and decided not to comment further.

“Attention! Attention!” yelled one of the guards, interrupting the potions review. The man followed up with a series of banging noises. It sounded as if someone was passing a metal bar across the cell’s bars. The noise grew louder as the guard came closer to Harry’s cell. He didn’t pause as he continued down the hallway, but he was walking slow enough that Harry realized the noise came from the man’s wand rather than a physical tool. Harry was grateful that the guards didn’t carry metal batons, like the muggle police had, despite knowing their wands were capable of just as much damage.

Harry shouldn’t have been surprised that Burke was back. He was beginning to think the man must live in Azkaban since he was always there.

“Rubba dub dub,” Burke smirked, “too many convicts in a tub.”

Harry felt his stomach drop as his cell door suddenly opened. He was grimy enough that a shower was long overdue. However, all the other prisoners’ cells were also open. It made him nervous.

“Join the line, Potter,” Burke ordered. Harry weighed the pros and cons of refusing. As nice as the Death Eaters had been, Harry wasn’t sure if that would last once they could reach him. Harry was especially nervous as he could now see the Lestrange brothers. In fact, most of the men he could see were looking at him curiously now that they could finally observe him. It was a nerve-wracking experience. With a deep breath, Harry moved out of his cell.

It was clear that he was expected to line up with the other men in the hallway, so he filed in between Lucius and Nott. Nott gave Harry’s shoulders a squeeze, and it reminded him of Sirius’ preferred form of affection. It calmed Harry as he was beginning to believe that they wouldn’t harm him even though they could reach him now. Burke narrowed his eyes as he observed them. He too came to the same conclusion as Harry, though he was less happy about it.

“Move,” ordered the guard at the end of the hallway. The prisoners started shuffling forward in a single file. They headed in the opposite direction from where Harry entered this wing of the prison.

Harry counted four guards. They were all watching the prisoners carefully, wands at the ready. As Harry neared the end of the hallway, he noticed a couple of dementors near by. They were prevented from reaching the prisoners due to Wiblin’s Patronus. Harry deducted that the presence of the dementors was what prevented the prisoners from attempting to overpower the guards with their higher numbers.

The hallway lead to a changing room. It looked like the quidditch locker rooms, though there were no actual lockers. Instead the prisoners were expected to place their shoes along the wall, while their dirty clothes were dumped into one communal hamper.

The other prisoners didn’t even hesitate to remove their clothes. Public showers had become common practice for them. Both Lucius and Nott moved leisurely as they matched Harry’s slow pace. He was reluctant to remove his clothes as he noticed many of the prisoners were still giving him curious looks. Harry tried not to peek at anyone, but the room quickly filled with naked men. He couldn’t avoid having his eyes land on someone’s naked arse. Or their Azkaban tattoo. The latter pained him as it reminded him of his own. Harry was surprised that not all prisoners had their tattoo on their neck. The ones that didn’t seems to already have some other tattoo in the place where their Azkaban number would have gone. Instead, this tag was placed on their chest or arms.

As Lucius and Nott were the only prisoners he’d seen during the last few days, Harry felt the most comfortable around them – even naked. He couldn’t help but observe that both men still looked relatively healthy. Lucius wasn’t sporting a six-pack, but his chest was surprisingly toned. Harry tried not to dwell on it as it felt icky to notice that about Draco’s father. Though Harry couldn’t help but wonder if Draco was similarly built.

“Don’t be shy, Potter,” Burke called out from his spot at the door. When Harry looked back at the man, he noticed Burke’s wand and eyes were squarely on Harry. “If you dally here, there won’t be any hot water left.”

With reluctance, Harry removed his shirt and placed it in the hamper. As he did, a very naked Mulciber tossed in his pants and winked at Harry. Harry tried not to notice exactly how much hair was on the man (it was a lot). It helped when he removed his glasses and placed them on a nearby bench. He hoped Burke didn’t break them.

The temperature in the changing room was cold and Harry shivered once fully undressed. The temperature marginally rose once Harry moved into the shower area. He was also pleased to note that there were waist-high stalls set up around the room. There were no curtains, so Harry had to try extra hard not to notice anyone’s dangly bits no matter how much they were all just wagging freely in the room. Harry strategically placed his hands over his dick to keep his modesty and hoped the half-walls of the stall would prevent most from taking a peak. Harry briskly walked over to a stall. Lucius and Nott chose the stalls on either side of him. There were no assigned shower stalls, so Harry knew they purposely picked them to remain close to him.

The water was only a notch above what Harry would call warm, but there was no way for him to adjust the temperature. He took a minute to just enjoy the feeling of water pouring over his body, before he reached for the only soap dispenser attached to the stall. Harry felt weird using the same soap on his hair and body, but it was better than nothing.

Harry was rinsing the surprisingly odorless suds from him hair, when he heard a “Potter” spoken behind him.

“Move along Jugson,” said Lucius in a tone that was classic Malfoy superiority. The man didn’t even bother turning around to address Jugson when he spoke.

“I would if you’d bothered to show Potter his place,” responded Jugson. “What would the dark lord say if he knew you were passing up an opportunity to-”

“Bold of you to assume you know what the dark lord wants,” Lucius interrupted.

Jugson paused but didn’t move away. “Look, Burke will give me some perks if I mess the kid up. It’s not like we should be mollycoddling him considering everything,” Jugson said as he tried a new tactic.

“You’re Burke’s lapdog now?” Nott butted in as he scrubbed at his armpit. It was hardly a threatening stance, but it gave Jugson reason to pause. He looked between the two men on either side of Harry as it became clear that anyone who wanted to mess with Harry would have to go through them first.

“I’d be doing it for me,” insisted Jugson who wasn’t ready to give up just yet. “Any perks Burke might give me would just be an added benefit.”

Nott snorted and said “Burke’s idea of a perk is just an extra serving of that crap they call a meal around here. It’s hardly worth the trouble you’ll face.”

“There won’t be trouble. That’s the point. The guards won’t stop me from beating the wanker like he deserves,” insisted Jugson. He was losing his patience.

“How smallminded of you,” Lucius sneered in true Malfoy fashion. “You’re overlooking the fact that others far more important than you or Burke have already staked their claim on the boy.”

“You think I fear Dumbledore?” asked Jugson. “What can he do to me while I’m in here?”

“Not Dumbledore, your blithering idiot,” said Lucius. “The dark lord has staked his claim on the boy.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I softened him up for him,” replied Jugson, though he looked worried. “He’d reward me.”

“He’d want to decide for himself what happens to the boy,” Lucius disagreed. “He’d see your actions as disrespectful and presumptuous.”

“Plus, if you got the pleasure of torturing Potter while the dark lord is denied...” Nott trailed off as he let Jugson picture whatever he wanted as the negative consequence.

“Fine!” Jugson snapped. “But if the dark lord questions why the boy left here with nary a scratch, I’ll be the first to point to you.” Neither Lucius nor Nott seemed particularly worried.

All three of them watched Jugson walk away. Harry would have been relieved if it didn’t mean he got a good look at the man’s hairy arse. Even without his glasses, Harry could tell it was an unpleasant sight.

“You’d best finish washing up,” Lucius advised. “The hot water won’t last much longer.”

Harry scrubbed as fast as he could without it being too obvious that he was rushing. He was scared that another man would soon come up to him with new threats. He didn’t know if Lucius and Nott’s threat of Voldemort’s displeasure would work on everyone. Harry was pretty sure it was just a ploy on the men’s part to keep him physically safe. “Thanks,” he said quietly to both men.

“If it was my underage son in this shithole, I would hope someone would do the same,” Nott responded.

Lucius didn’t respond as he was too busy hissing and jumping back from shower. Harry felt the water temperature in his stall suddenly drop a second later. Harry tried to quickly rinse off the remaining soap on his body as the water was quickly becoming ice cold.

“Fucking Jugson distracting us during the only time we get any warmth,” Lucius grumbled. Harry figured the man must be upset if he was resorting to crude swear words instead of the more Shakespearean ones he claimed signified his cleverness. Despite Lucius pointing the finger at Jugson, Harry knew his own reluctance to undress was what really delayed them.

Just like when they entered the showers, Lucius and Nott stuck close to Harry as they left. He once again tried to keep his focus at eye-level and hoped the other prisoners were giving him the same courtesy. The room’s temperature quickly dropped with the lack of warm water flowing. Consequently, goosebumps covered Harry’s body. Harry already didn’t want the other men to see him naked, but he especially didn’t want it to happen when he was experiencing shrinkage due to the cold. Harry once again strategically placed his hands in front of him as he walked, and desperately looked for a towel.

Harry realized no towel would be provided as he walked pass the entryway leading back to the changing room. Instead a blast of too-hot air surrounded him. Almost instantly the water on his person evaporated. It felt similar to one of those muggle hand dryers, but much more efficient. When Harry reluctantly moved one hand from his groin to touch his hair, he noticed it was dry too.

New clean uniforms were laid out on the benches. Given the magical resizing of the clothes, Harry assumed he could grab any pair and gratefully walked towards the set closest to where he left his glasses. Harry realized one downside of interchangeable clothes was that his old pair of pants weren’t returned to him freshly laundered. Instead he had a thin pair of tighty-whities. A quick glance at Lucius revealed the man had put on a matching pair. As he slipped his on, Harry tried not to think about how many prisoners wore that specific pair of pants previously. He would have skipped them but in Azkaban, every thin layer counted.

Harry was quick to slip on the trousers next. It might have been his imagination, but he felt like too many eyes were watching him. It became apparent that at least one set of unwanted eyes were focused on him when a voice spoke from directly behind him.

“Enjoy your shower, Potter?”

Harry whipped around to see Burke. The man frowned as his eyes swept over Harry’s uncovered and unblemished chest. It wasn’t hard to guess that the man was looking for any damage Jugson might have caused.

“It was fine,” Harry replied as his hands clenched his shirt. He wanted to put it on, especially as Burke’s eyes focused on Harry’s tattoo. Unfortunately, Harry didn’t trust Burke enough to have his vision obscured even for a few seconds.

“You seem to come out of it unmolested. I feared that a bunch of criminals who haven’t gotten off in ages would not be able to resist a tasty morsel like you,” Burke stated crudely. Despite his words, Harry could tell the man was more disappointed than worried.

“We’re not so desperate that we can’t keep our hands off a child,” answered Nott.

“This doesn’t concern you, Nott,” Burke warned.

“It rather does when you insinuate things about my character,” Nott countered.

“Watch it, Nott. It’d be a shame to inform your judicial-wizard that you could not make your date because you were in solitary confinement,” threaten Burke. Nott’s sneer became more pronounced, but he didn’t reply. Harry was glad that the man remained close to them.

Burke glanced back towards the showers. There weren’t that many prisoners left given that the water was rather cold by now. Jugson still seemed to be in the shower area.

“Are you sure you’re clean enough, Potter? You might want to savour this opportunity” Burke said. Given that Burke hadn’t seen Jugson’s confrontation with Lucius and Nott, he had no way to know if Harry remained unharmed because of the amount of witnesses previously in the shower area.

“I’m good,” Harry stated. At Burke’s narrowed eyes, he added “it’s a bit too cold now anyway.”

“Seems Jugson agrees with the boy,” stated Lucius. As one, they turned to watch Jugson leave the shower area. Unlike Harry, he didn’t seem bothered by his nakedness and walked casually around the room until he found one of the remaining uniforms.

“Well,” Burke frowned. “Perhaps if you’re good, I can arrange to let you into the showers early. You know, as an incentive.”

Harry figured the man was probably planning how he could still enact his Jugson plan. Harry assumed that regardless of his own behaviour, Burke would find a way to get Harry into the showers early. Jugson would probably be the only other prisoner that was rewarded for so-called good behaviour.

“Wanker,” muttered Nott as he came to the same conclusion as Harry. Burke heard him.

“You know, I think you’re angling for a stay in solitary after all, Nott,” said Burke.

“What for?” asked Harry. He knew it was because Nott was sticking up for him. Harry didn’t think Nott deserve Burke’s pettiness. He tried to bring Burke’s focus back on him even if it made Harry’s stomach queasy to do so.

“Disorderly conduct,” Burke shrugged. It was a laughable excuse given that Burke encouraged Jugson to act disorderly just a few minutes ago.

“That’s bullshit!” exclaimed Harry.

“Perhaps you also want to stay in solitary,” said Burke. He tilted his head as he surveyed Harry, and all three men could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Burke was clearly hatching a new plan to get to Harry away from prying eyes.

“Do you really want the added criticism right now? You know my judicial-wizard will push back hard against any attempts to deny his visitations,” Nott cautioned. “And I doubt the minister will be too happy if Potter is unavailable the next time he visits due to made-up offenses.”

“You can’t threaten me,” seethed Burke.

“Just a cautionary suggestion,” responded Nott with forced levity. “Given the criticism the ministry is under, you don’t want to be the person to add fuel to the fire.”

Burke seemed to stew for a moment. Harry was sure the man was going to do something drastic, but to his surprise, Burke just hissed “get in line! Your shower time is over!”

As Burke stomped angrily away, Harry quickly finished getting dressed. He followed Lucius and Nott to collect their shoes before joining the other prisoners in line. While there were still some stragglers, most prisoners where in line chatting quietly to each other. Harry once again stood between Lucius and Nott. He watched Lucius run his fingers through his hair as he tried to get out the tangles. Apparently, Azkaban didn’t believe in hair brushes. Harry knew his hair was bound to be a mess.

“Do you think Burke will send us to solitary?” Harry whispered to Nott.

“Unlikely... at least not today. I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a warning over your tattoo. He’ll have to be careful about his actions for awhile,” answered Nott.

Before Harry could respond, he heard a surprised “Neville?”. Harry’s heart stuttered. He feared that the ministry had decided to arrest Neville after all. He looked around the room in panic, but instead of seeing his fellow Gryffindor, Harry spotted Stan Shunpike. The man had paused in the middle of getting dressed to stare at Harry in shock.

“Oh, hi Stan,” Harry said as he breathed a sigh of relief that Neville wasn’t in here with him. Harry couldn’t imagine how Neville would fare if faced with Burke’s tender mercies.

“What are you doing here?” Stan asked. Since he wasn’t yet fully dressed, Harry got a good look at his forearm. There was no dark mark.

“What are you doing here?” Harry gestured toward Stan’s forearm.

“Don’t tell me they arrested you for Death Eater activity,” Stan sounded incredulous at the thought. The man knew who Harry was even if he insisted on calling Harry ‘Neville’.

“Er, no,” Harry said embarrassed because he was technically guilty of the crime he was arrested for. “I just meant that the ministry is filled with morons.”

“Stop dallying and get in line,” Burke called from his place at the front of the line. He was still watching Harry and didn’t look pleased that yet another prisoner was acting friendly towards him. Stan quickly put on his shirt. He looked like he wanted to say more to Harry, but ultimately shrugged and scurried away to collect his shoes before joining the line.

When Harry turned back around, Lucius was watching him with a raised eyebrow. The man clearly wanted to ask what that whole scene was about, but the guards started moving them back towards the cells.

The prisoners filed out of the changing room and back into their cells in an orderly fashion. Harry was once again surprised at how docile the most dangerous of Azkaban’s prisoners were being. It made sense given there were dementors nearby, ready to swoop in as soon as the guards dropped their spell. Still, Harry found it unsettling. Perhaps because he too walked back into his cell and watched the door close without even thinking of making a break for it.

No one spoke while the guards were still in the hallway. Burke made the “I’m watching you” hand gesture as he passed Harry’s cell. In return, Harry exaggerated his eyeroll and smirked when Burke frowned. He was glad the man was too busy watching Harry’s expression to notice that his hands were trembling.

“So, Neville. What was that about?” asked Lucius once the guards had moved on.

Harry snorted. “Well, the summer before my third year, I accidentally blew up my uncle’s sister,” Harry stated and was amused by the intrigued expressions on Lucius’ and Nott’s faces. Nott even looked impressed until Harry clarified he meant blowing her up like a balloon and not into little pieces. Still, he complimented Harry’s fast thinking in using an alias when he went on the run.

“You might want to use a fake name next time,” he advised.

“Nah, use Burke’s name,” suggested Mulciber from his cell. “That way, he’ll get the blame for all the bad things you do.”

The other prisoners were interested in what other hijinks Harry had gotten into over the years. He didn’t want to mention anything that might still get him or his friends in trouble. He also thought it best to steer clear of anything that directly involved Voldemort. He settled on telling them about the time in first year when Draco had caught him out after curfew. Only when he went to tattle on them, McGonagall ended up giving him detention as well.

“I recall that. Draco moaned about it in his letters home. He was quite upset with you in particular,” Lucius reminisced with a fond smile.

“Did he write about me often?” wondered Harry. Harry felt his cheeks heat up immediately and hoped that Azkaban’s poor lighting hid it. Lucius still have him a knowing look.

“You do have a way of catching my son’s attention like no other,” Lucius said, smirking slightly. Harry’s blush deepened and he averted his eyes. Draco had a similar effect on Harry. Draco mostly inspired negative emotions, but Harry couldn’t deny that he paid more attention to him than any other student he had confrontations with. Zacharias Smith and Cormac McLaggen were prats, but Harry didn’t dwell on his encounters with them. Harry did recount his interactions with Draco over and over in his head. And Draco just kept taking up more and more space as Harry tried to figure out what he was up to this year. Worry slowly overtook anger as the primary emotion attached to his rival. As of late, Draco had looked more and more tired and stressed. He even stopped putting effort into his looks, which was a warning bell to anyone that knew him. Of course, coming to that realization had made Harry confront the fact that he’d always thought of Draco as attractive. He still was, even with bags under his eyes. Draco looked like he could use a good night’s sleep, but that particular line of thinking was probably best to follow when Harry wasn’t sitting in front of Draco’s father.

“Why were you out after curfew?” Nott asked as he took pity on Harry’s flustered appearance.

“Er, there was a dragon egg...” Harry wondered how he could explain without mentioning Hagrid. He wasn’t sure if Hagrid could still get in trouble after all these years, but he didn’t want to chance it. Luckily, he didn’t have to elaborate since the hall door swung open and a guard called out “Nott, your judicial-wizard is here.”

Harry paced nervously as soon as Nott disappeared. Lucius tried to distract him by reviewing spells, but Harry wasn’t able to focus. He kept wondering if Nott’s judicial-wizard would agree to take him on as a client. By the time Nott was returned to his cell, Harry was a nervous wreck.

“Hale will be happy to represent you,” he informed Harry. “He wanted me to inform you that he was heading straight to the ministry to start the process.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “How long – I mean, when would I meet with him?”

“Depends on how much the ministry tries to stall him,” Nott said honestly. “But don’t worry. He won’t back down from the minister himself.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. It was a huge relief. He felt like things were finally moving forward.

“He also agreed to send a certain guard a little present...” Nott smirked. “I might have mentioned that Burke deserved a nice bouquet of Shy Tortoise Hyacinth. It should arrive with his morning post.”

Harry could picture Burke opening the package and getting dosed by the smelly plant. “Albert Nott,” he smiled. “You are a wonderful, wonderful man.”