Little Memories

Charlotte woke up from her dream, shaking, sweating, and screaming. Her voice echoed harshly for sometime after she stopped screaming, probably carrying throughout the cursed place. She sat up, her back protesting with the sudden movement, having lain flat on the damp, stone floor for the entire night. She stared, wide-eyed, at the wall that stood opposite of her, a barred square letting her see into the grey, stormy morning. Her lungs heaved air in and out and she could feel her pulse pounding in her neck and temples. Despite the frigid air that surrounded her, sweat dripped down her spine and her forehead. She swallowed hard, her throat dry and sore, and let out a tiny whimper as the events of the dream hit her full force.

“You can only fight off sleep here for so long, Charlotte,” a smooth, yet weathered voice came from the cell opposite of Charlotte’s. She had been there for three days already and fought off sleep until then. She had been dreaming soundly until the dream took a turn for the worse. It had seemed so lifelike, so realistically brutal. And, as if the world were taunting her, they had put her in the cell across from Lucius Malfoy. They had quite a few conversations in their time as “neighbors”, yet it only made Charlotte realize how much she missed his son.
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Charlotte managed to slide back and prop herself up against the wall, having limited movements from sore muscles and joints. There was no bed in her cell and she hadn’t had adequate food for days now. They fed them, three times a day, which would have seemed enough. However, when they pushed the plates through the bars of the door, she grimaced at the meager slice of bread and cup of murky looking water. She ate and drank despite this, figuring she needed to at least put something in her body. Charlotte was far from the comforts of her home and Hogwarts and she’d have to get used to it.

“A dementor passed by while your were sleeping,” Lucius said softly and Charlotte’s eyes darted over to the dark cell across from hers. That would explain the horrid dream she had, but she couldn’t help but to think that there was some truth of the future in it, since her dreams normally always did these days. She ran a clammy, soot-covered hand through her matted and lack-luster curls and let out a shaky breath of air. Her head slowly rested back against the wall behind her and she looking up to the ceiling, willing herself to not cry.

“What did I do to deserve this?” She breathed to no one in particular, feeling hot tears creeping from the corners of her eyes despite her constant, mental repeating that she wouldn’t cry. Before she came to Azkaban, she swore that she wouldn’t cry, no matter how bad things got. Here she was, not even four days in, and crying after a nightmare, like a scared child. Everyone else saw her as a child, yet she knew that she felt much, much older than her meager 16.

She sniffled loudly and curled her stiff legs up to her chest, wincing slightly at the sharp pain that radiated from her knees, up her thighs, and down her shins. Resting her forehead against her knees, she let out another shaky breath of air, slowly feeling herself calm down. This place felt like Hell on Earth to her, despite that fact that she hadn’t been here as long as Lucius by any means. Her spine pressed uncomfortably against the stony wall behind her and her legs were going slightly numb from the cold.

“It won’t get an easier to be here, I’m afraid,” Lucius’ voice broke the silence between the two of them and Charlotte figured he was just talking to her because he probably didn’t know anyone else in the God-forsaken place. She could sympathize with him, knowing she probably would have gone mad without a familiar face.

“He says we won’t be here for much longer,” Charlotte finally spoke in a raspy whisper, glancing over to Lucius through the bars of her cell. “Hopefully he’ll keep his promise to me and my family this time.”

“We shouldn’t speak ill of him, not yet at least,” Lucius’ voice was a mere wind and Charlotte knew that he still had his allegiances to the corrupt man, despite the fact that he was carted away for loyalty to him. Charlotte had no choice but to follow him, while Lucius had made all of his decisions on his own. She didn’t know who she wanted to follow anymore, or whether she was still going to play both sides like she had chosen to before the end of the school year or, at least, the end of her school year. She imagined that the students were still weeping over the death of their beloved headmaster and were being sent home for the summer. They all knew about Draco and her being Death Eaters and were probably either extremely surprised, or relishing in the fact that their suspicions were right all along.

“Draco did well, Lucius,” Charlotte spoke, staring blankly ahead. Out of her four days in Azkaban, they did not talk about their families, nor give any other word about plans that were to be made. Charlotte was forbidden to utter so much as a syllable about future actions of the Death Eaters. They had skirted around the idea of talking about their families, probably because they did not want to increase the pain of missing them even more than they already did. “He wasn’t the murderer, but now I suppose every one knows what he is.” The cell across from Charlotte’s went quiet and she could see the weathered, yet charming face of Lucius Malfoy harden slightly as he stared ahead. His eyes were glistening slightly in the dim light. “Narcissa also told me that she loves you and can’t wait until you come back to her.” Charlotte, by now, was weeping quietly, tears steadily streaking her dirty face. She sniffled and looked ahead, hoping to give Lucius some alone time.

“Thank you,” Lucius’ broken voice echoed pitifully off the walls surrounding them. Charlotte merely sighed heavily and ran her fingertips through her hair, not making any inclination to reply. She bit her bottom lip as more tears fell down her cheeks. She couldn’t imagine what he had been going through. He had been here for about a year and yet he still retained most of his sanity. Charlotte was beginning to feel the little sanity she had left slipping away, like grains of sand being carried away by the tide. She couldn’t imagine how she’d be in a few days, or how distant she would becoming within the few weeks she’d be contained in the walls of Azkaban.

She realized just how much she relied on Draco to keep her grounded and to keep her humanity from slipping away. Charlotte knew that he was the only human part of her left and that without him, the faces of those she had brutally tortured and murdered would haunt her and whisper nasty things in her ears. They would become unbearable and she would become plagued with guilt and fear. Without Draco, she realized just how much of a monster she had been molded into. She knew, beyond a doubt, that she deserved Azkaban, and that she deserved to stay her for the rest of her life, however long it may have been in these desperate times.