Ebb and Flow

London, November 1984

***

"You're leaving me?" Madame White repeated, resting her hands on her hips.

"Yeah," Althea grunted happily, lifting a suitcase under her arm, "going to Borneo."

Remus did not know it yet, but Althea would accompany him on his return journey to Borneo. He had given her the room number to his accommodations at The Leaky Cauldron, and she would arrive--her suitcases packed--ready to start their journey. He'll be so surprised, she thought excitedly, lifting the other rather heavy and cumbersome suitcase off the floor. There's no way I could let him return to Borneo alone. As if the Ministry would care what we do on the other side of the world in a bloody jungle.... He'll see it my way eventually and might thank me one day for joining him.

Madame White smiled at Althea's enthusiasm. "Borneo?" she laughed and shook her head. "No, I wasn't made for the jungle," she sighed, and looked up at Althea and raised an eyebrow. "What brought about this?"

"I thought I needed a change of country," she explained and her suitcase slipped from underneath her arm. She went to catch her suitcase, but the other suitcase slipped as well. "Maybe I shouldn't take so many things, right?" she remarked with a smirk.

"Maybe you shouldn't leave the country for a man," Madame White remarked, helping Althea with her fallen suitcases.

"Thank you," she replied, taking hold of the handle. "What makes you think I'm leaving for a man?"

"Why else?" she asked, folding her arms. "Women tend to do stupid things for a man--like they're bloody worth it," she added, frowning.

"It's not stupid," she replied defensively, her arms aching from the weight of her suitcases. "I'm leaving for Borneo to assist my friend with his research."

Madame White sighed as she rolled her eyes. "Of course, it isn't," she replied with the utmost condescension. "Keep repeating to yourself that it isn't stupid, and when you have the noose around your neck after you've lost everything, maybe you'll understand."

Althea frowned at the harshness of Madame White's words. "You're a bitter one, aren't you?" she remarked, tightening her grip on the suitcase handles.

"No, just tired of our sex wasting themselves on men," she replied as she opened the door for Althea. "You're worth so much more than they could ever be."

Madame White's words struck Althea, causing her to catch her breath. Eszter had spoken those words to her once before, and she had shrugged them off as some naïve suggestion. Now, a middle-aged, world-weary witch spoke those same words to her. Maybe those words did hold some meaning, but Althea shrugged them off once more as a bitter suggestion.

"Well," she began, maneuvering herself through the doorway, "I'm off. Aren't you going to wish me some luck?"

"I wish you wouldn't go," she replied from the other side of the doorway, "but no matter what happens, you'll always have a place here. I always need a Healer."

"Right," she grunted, shifting her suitcase underneath her other arm so she could wave. "Bye, then."

Althea took the suitcase back into her other hand, its heaviness jarring her shoulder. I'll prove her wrong, she thought as she smiled and winked at the waving Madame White. I won't be wasting my life traveling to Borneo with Remus; I'd waste it by staying here...Why did I make these so heavy, she thought as she readjusted her suitcases. Granted, she could charm them lighter, but then Muggles would suspect, as she would carry her large suitcases with ease through the busy Muggle street. No, it's better if I struggle on, she thought as her eyes glimpsed the sign of The Leaky Cauldron.

The atmosphere of The Leaky Cauldron was loud and busy with breakfast; the patrons had not noticed Althea's entrance as the majority sat at tables reading the Daily Prophet while they drank their morning coffees. Dropping her suitcases to the floor, she took out her wand and charmed them lighter--her body thanking her as she picked up the lighter suitcases. Careful not injure anyone with her large and awkward suitcases, she walked through the filled tables and chairs and up the staircase to the accommodations. Right, it was twelve, wasn't it, she thought as she passed the first set of doors. Here we are...number twelve...won't he be surprised! Althea dropped her suitcases to the ground, knocked on his door, and waited to hear his footsteps as his feet shuffled along the floor to open the door. However, no footsteps came. He must be sleeping, she thought and she knocked louder.

"Remus? Remus, it's Althea," she said as she continued to knock. "Remus?"

Sighing from disappointment, Althea frowned as she studied the door. He's probably in Diagon Alley, she thought, as she rested her hand on the doorknob and noticed that the doorknob turned. That's strange, it's unlocked.... I reckon I'll wait for him inside...better than standing out here, she thought as she opened the door.

"What the--damn it!" she said and hit her fist against the doorframe--the side of her hand stinging from the impact.

As she rubbed her sore hand, Althea's eyes scanned the empty room--no papers scattered the floor, no opened suitcase atop the chair in the corner, and no unmade bed. The bed appeared to have not been slept in and atop the pillow was a letter. Althea walked forward and read that the letter, in Remus's writing, was addressed to her. Unfolding the parchment, her fingers tightly clutched the coarse paper as she began to read:

Althea,

I thought you would come here, but as you can see, I am gone. I am very sorry, but I had a change of plans. As you are reading this, I am on my way to Germany. It seems the German Ministry read my paper on Erkling control, and it has offered me a position to continue my research on Erklings. Thankfully, I had no trouble changing my destination itinerary at the Registry. I will send you a letter once I arrive in Baden-Baden and settle into my new home.

Now where should I send you my letters? I believe I will send them to your cottage, or your new home, one more suitable than the Red Rose. Althea, please leave the Red Rose. You don't belong there. I apologize for the abruptness, but my excitement and the knowledge I will be late must keep this letter short. I am so sorry I could not see you before I left. I wish I could have to explain to you further my leaving. I'm not leaving you, I swear. I'll start preparing for your visit at Christmas. I would very much enjoy a visit with you then.

All my love,

Remus

"'All my love, Remus,'" she muttered, throwing herself back onto the mattress. "Oh, this is brilliant, brilliant!" she remarked and roughly rubbed her forehead. "Stop making bloody excuses, Remus, and just tell me you didn't want me to go. Just tell me you don't want to be with me."

What am I supposed to do now, she thought, staring at the letter in her right hand. Where am I supposed to go? Althea felt embarrassed and angry, and she was not sure if she was angrier with Remus or herself. I can't go back to the Red Rose now, she thought, crumpling the letter in her hand. She'll offer me feigned sympathy and smile as she knew this would happen all along.... Then she'll want me to join her girls.

"Damn it!" she shouted, stomping her foot against the floor. "Where am I to go!" she continued and threw the letter across the room. "I can't--I just can't go back to the cottage," she murmured, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.

Her eyes stung from the mascara that seeped into her eyes, and Althea wiped them with the sides of her hands. She coughed as mucus drained into the back of her throat. What made her think that Remus would want her to travel with him? She was a burden and would be a constant reminder of the past. Who would want to relive the past? No, he needed to move on and she...she needed to move on as well.

Althea sat up and took her wand from her robe pocket. "Incendio," she muttered as she pointed her wand at her suitcases.

***

The stale, musty air wafted into her nostrils as Althea looked around the unkempt cottage. Thick cobwebs covered the furniture, and Althea looked down at her shoes--covered with dust--as her feet created plumes of dust with each step she took. Refusing to touch the nursery doorknob with her hands, she pointed her wand toward the door--the door almost blasting off its hinges. What am I even doing here, she thought as she entered the nursery.

"I suppose I'm here to say goodbye," she muttered to herself and walked toward the empty cot.

The cot was also covered in a layer of dust; a spider had constructed a web in the far right corner--its meals still wrapped in the intricate web. Her eyes wandered toward the netting at the head of the cot. The netting once tied back with large pink satin ribbons was now limp and moth-eaten--the large pink satin bows undone and the ends of the ribbon frayed. You'd be three now, she thought as she wiped the dust from her hands. I wonder if you still use your cot.... No, you would have a bed now. You would have had a bed here, too--a marvelous one with a canopy--any color canopy you would want, she thought, and mournfully sighed as she as she looked up on the faded mural. I'd paint your walls for you again--any scene you would want...this time your daddy would ask for permission to charm them.

"Of course, it wouldn't matter to him," she muttered bitterly, her hand tightening around her wand. "He'd do it anyway."

Althea wiped her eyes as she watched a rabbit hop across the faded green grass.

"My paint fades, but your charms stay," she continued, narrowing her eyes at the mural. "I hated that you charmed the mural. I hated that you didn't ask me--you never asked me about anything! This cot! Those toys! You never asked me once! Why did you have to charm it?" she shouted and growled, stomping her foot against the floor--a plume of dust rising from underneath her feet, causing her to choke. "Why couldn't you let me have this? Why do you have to take everything from me?" she shouted and pointed her wand toward the mural. "Reducto!" she yelled--the jet of light blasting from the tip of her wand.

The jet of light exploded upon impact with the mural, causing Althea to fly backward into the opposite wall. Her back hit the wall with violent impact--the wall providing little comfort as the charm on that wall protected it from cracking. Catching her breath--her back sore--she looked at the untouched wall before her.

"You can't even let me destroy it," she breathed and groaned as she brought her knees to her chin. "That's it...I'm done."

Taking one last hateful look at the charmed mural, Althea stood and limped out of the nursery. Her head bent, she continued out the door and into the garden. At one time, she took great pride in her garden, spending her mornings cultivating flowers, vegetables, and herbs. Now the garden was overgrown with weeds, overrun with gnomes, and the plants she cherished the most were dead. What's one more stick to this place, she thought, looking at her wand. After what I'll do tonight, I won't be needing it anymore. Shrugging her shoulders, she tossed her wand over the garden fence. It was five-thirty in the evening, and at six, she would meet Jack.

With the arrival of Remus, she had become sidetracked in her work and had not owled him as she said she would. However, after she had left The Leaky Cauldron, she had spotted him looking at some expensive cauldrons in Diagon Alley. After tapping her hair with her wand to change the color back to red, she approached him and he agreed to meet with her that evening in Phaedra's Pub, the private pub of their initial meeting. This time she would not fail and would drink herself to death after she killed him.

***

"So, what do you think?" Jack asked eagerly.

Althea examined the bouquet of large orange, red, and yellow tropical flowers Jack had given her. "They're lovely," she replied, smelling them, "thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied and winked. "There are only two places in the world you can find these flowers--Tahiti and the hothouse at my estate," he explained, stroking her back.

"Really," she breathed, touching one of the delicate petals.

These are truly gorgeous flowers.... Pity I'll have to kill him.... Damn, he's so handsome, too, she thought as her fingertip stroked the soft, moist flower petal. Althea took a gulp of air as Jack's breath caressed her neck--her delicate skin tingling to the fluctuations of the hot and cold of his breath. I can wait another night, she thought, and shut her eyes--embarrassed at her arousal. Oh, what am I thinking? A handsome face and a dark past, and my knickers are down about my ankles.... I really need to set my priorities.

"Mhmm," he murmured, leisurely gliding his hand across her abdomen.

Althea instinctively caught her breath and felt her torso flush with warmth.

"I would love to take you there sometime. Maybe this weekend perhaps?" he whispered, his warm lips gently brushing the nape of her neck.

Althea released her breath in short, shaky pauses. "Perhaps," she smiled and nudged him away with her shoulder, eliciting a frown from Jack. "Not here, right?" she whispered, stroking the side of his face. "I don't like how that wizard there is looking at us."

Jack laughed quietly and took her hand from the side of his face. "Right," he replied and kissed her fingers. "To my flat, then?" he asked and forcefully kissed the back of her hand.

Althea forced a weak smile. "Of course," she replied and Jack smiled. "You know, it's such a beautiful night, let's walk," she added as she stood. "It can't be that far from here."

"No, it's not that far," he replied, offering her his arm. "I wouldn't mind a walk."

***

Althea smiled as she entered the doorway, slipping her hand into her robe pocket and feeling the knife handle.

"I thought you wouldn't have owled me," he said, tapping his wand against the lock.

Althea's excitement heightened. Her hand tightened around the knife handle as Jack opened the door.

"Sorry about that," she replied, her heart pounding against her chest. "I had business to attend to."

Jack allowed Althea to enter first--her eyes attempting to adjust to the darkness of the hall. The small beams of light from the street dissipated as Jack shut the door, and she waited for Jack to light the gas lamps. However, instead of hearing the distinct click of the gas lamps as they were turned on, Althea heard Jack's footsteps stop directly behind her.

"Well," he began, sliding his arms around her back, "you shouldn't work so much."

"I know," she replied, frowning as she felt his arms tighten around her.

Jack was holding her in an awkward position to stab him--she would have to release the knife to face him. If she would stab him from her present position, there was that chance she would not make a clean stab and a struggle would ensue. A struggle was something she did not want--she wanted the kill as clean as possible.

"However, I'll be working less soon--might even quit," she continued, letting go of the knife in her pocket.

"Really?" he murmured, loosening his grip on her so she could turn to face him.

"Yeah," she smiled, sliding her hand up to his shoulder and slipping her other hand back into her pocket.

"Well, I'll mend that," he replied, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Now!" he shouted and pushed Althea backward.

Bewildered, Althea stumbled back and fell to the ground.

"Incarcerous!" she heard another voice shout, and shackles magically bound her wrists and ankles.

Suddenly, the gas lamps flickered on and glowed, allowing Althea to see her situation. Jack stood at her feet and another man--the man from the pub--stood at her side. I was set up, she thought, anger surging through her veins.

"NO!" she shouted, pulling at the shackles that bound her wrists. "No! No! No!" she continued to shout as she kicked and struggled with the shackles.

Jack laughed, which caused Althea to temporarily stop struggling and glare at him. He leaned himself against the pale green wall and smiled smugly at Althea. Full of rage at her capture, Althea attempted to stand and lunge forward; however, the shackles prevented her from doing so, and she fell to the ground--the long metal chain that connected the shackles from her ankles to her wrists dug into the side of her knee.

"You're in no position to argue, Miss Derry," he answered, twirling his wand between his fingers.

Althea righted herself and rubbed her sore knee. "Go ahead and get on with it," she replied angrily.

Jack stopped twirling his wand between his fingers. "Get on with it?" he laughed, shaking his head. "I'm not going to kill you--far from it," he explained, sliding his wand in his robe pocket. Pushing off from the wall, he walked forward and stopped in front of her. "Believe me, you're worth more alive than dead," he continued, smiling slightly, "I'm handing you over to the Ministry and I'll collect the thousand Galleons."

Althea gasped, her eyes widening. "You're a bounty hunter? But--but your arm!" she shouted, panicked, pointing with her hands to his arm.

Jack laughed once more as he lifted his robe sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark underneath. He licked his thumb and smiled as he pressed and dragged it across the Dark Mark. Althea gasped as the Dark Mark smeared--it was only ink! How could she have been fooled?

"You," she growled slowly, narrowing her eyes at him.

Jack knelt next to her--his grin transforming to a smirk. "Maybe if you used your tongue to lick other places, you could have discovered earlier," he remarked and tugged a red curl. "However, lucky for me, you didn't. Now I get the thousand Galleons."

"So, you were in it for the money, then," she muttered, frowning as she tugged on the shackles that bound her wrists.

How could I have been so stupid, she thought, and kicked her legs out of frustration, as she could not break free. Why would I think any man's intentions would be truthful against me? I should have known. I should have killed him outright last time.

Jack laughed, shaking his head. "You were in it to kill me," he replied and leaned forward. In a low voice, he continued, "I have to admit, though, you were the most fun catch. It is a pity I have to turn you over--"

"I'll give you five," she interrupted. "Five thousand Galleons and you let me go and we forget we ever met."

Jack whistled at the amount. "Now where would you get that sort of money?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm good for it," she replied, tugging once more on the shackles. "Undo the spell and I'll get the money."

Jack laughed as he took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Why would I trust someone that wants to kill me?" he remarked, taking two cigarettes from the pack. "No, even though your offer is enticing, I'll stick with the Ministry. I know they're good for it," he added and placed a cigarette between Althea's lips.

"Bastard," she muttered between her teeth as Jack lit her cigarette.

***

Althea laughed, but quickly yelped as the chains tightened around her. "Do you mind loosening these bloody things?" she asked--her breathing shallower. "It's not like I can leave this fabulous courtroom of yours," she continued, looking around the crowded courtroom.

The large crowd continued to murmur, and Althea turned her head to face them. The crowd was mostly composed spectators and media, but a few, in the front rows of the public seating, were family members of those she killed. At least I was kind enough to leave a family, she thought as a few wept into their handkerchiefs--others coldly stared at her. They didn't show those witches and wizards the same courtesy.

Suddenly, directly to Althea's side in the public seating, an older witch stood--thrusting her clenched fist toward Althea. "You murdered my son! You murdered my son!" she shouted--her face grotesquely contorting as she attempted to hold back her tears. "Taking your soul isn't good enough!"

Althea sighed and threw her head back. "He killed a Wizard, his Muggle wife, and their three children. What sort of threat does a five month old pose?" she remarked and turned her head to the side to observe the witch's reaction.

The older witch covered her mouth and slumped back into her chair.

From the second row a young witch stood, angrily pointing her finger at Althea. "You horrible bitch!" she yelled as she attempted to jump over the railing. "You murdered my fiancé!"

Althea rolled her eyes at the young witch's outburst. "Your fiancé tortured Muggle schoolchildren," she replied, and laughed as two wizards restrained the woman.

"That is enough," Dumbledore intervened and Althea lifted her head. "It would be in your best interest to keep quiet as we announce your fate."

Althea laughed again. "So you could tell me you're sending me to Azkaban for the rest of my life?" she began and shook her head. "Or that I'm having my soul sucked from me? Now that would be a laugh. I bloody do the work for you and you suck my soul, but you allow Death Eaters to keep their souls and spend their lives in Azkaban," she continued, sitting higher in the chair; however, the chains cut deeper into her chest--her shallow breaths, painful. "Bloody hell! Loosen these damn things!"

An older witch with a hooked nose leaned close to Dumbledore. "If I were her, I wouldn't worry about those chains," she commented in a weak whisper. "I'd worry about keeping my soul."

Althea smirked. "I don't have a soul," she laughed and the courtroom erupted with a mixture of hissing and weeping.

"Quiet, quiet," Dumbledore warned and the crowd slowly returned to quiet.

The black haired wizard sitting two persons from Dumbledore shook his head. "Get on with it, Dumbledore! This whole trial is a waste," he spoke, folding his arms.

Uproar of applause from the crowd and a few nods from Wizengamot members caused Althea's muscles to tighten. The verdict would be read soon and she would discover her fate. Where did the souls go once Dementors sucked them from their bodies? Do they realize they are no longer in their bodies? Does the soul die and the body remain? No, no, others have done crimes that are more heinous and their souls remain intact, she thought, her fingers numb from the restraints. No, I didn't kill that many people...what, about three? No, four--right, four. Ten years in Azkaban then? Bloody hell, I won't be able to survive ten years--Azkaban will kill me.... No, I want to die on my terms.

Dumbledore leaned forward as he accepted the roll of parchment. "'Stone walls do not a prison make,' Miss Derry," he spoke, looking into her eyes.

Althea shifted uncomfortably as she felt her mind being pried open--the chains of the chair cut into her skin as she shifted. With great effort, she took her gaze from Dumbledore and focused it on her bleeding arms. Dumbledore sighed and sat back, the large wooden chair creaking as he did so.

"No, 'nor iron bars a cage,'" he continued, frowning slightly as he unrolled the parchment. "It is the verdict of this court that you, Kelly Derry, will spend the rest of your natural life in Azkaban Fortress," he read and placed the parchment in front of him.

"LIFE?" she shrieked over the cheering of the crowd, and attempted sit forward, but the chains painfully and firmly held her in place. "NO! NO!" she shouted, trembling. "NO!"

"Send her away," the black haired wizard said over the crowd frenzy and Althea's protests.

The chains of the chair loosened and Althea saw the two dementors advance on her--her body becoming cold and heavy as they glided closer. "NO! I'll die before you let me go there!" she shouted, attempting one last chance to get away.

The dementor placed its cold, thin, grey hand on her shoulder, which caused Althea to shudder and to whimper.

***

The icy waters lapped against the boat as it sailed toward Azkaban. Althea refused to look up, but huddled in the bottom of the boat, attempting to keep warm. The cold mist of the North Sea seeped through her clothes and into her bones. Unable to see her shoes through the intense fog, Althea closed her eyes and listened to the splashing water and the rattling breath of the two dementors that glided along side the boat. She shivered as sea spray splashed against her face.

The ache in her bones slowly traveled to her stomach; however, she was not ill--it was an ache of grief and of unbearable loneliness. Suddenly, a small child's voice spoke, followed by an older woman's voice, and Althea buried her face against her knees. Oh God, it's starting, she thought, rocking back and forth. The voices began to multiply, and soon sad and terrified voices flooded Althea's mind as the boat drifted closer to Azkaban. Stop, she thought to herself, tightly closing her eyes. Stop. Please, stop. STOP!

"She'll become cold, wrap--wrap the blanket tighter around her.... You're not doing it properly! Here--here let me do it."

"Althea--"

"Stop, Remus. Now give me Prudence, Mrs. Parker...please."

"Really, she's all bundled and warm."

"No, just please. She's not--she's shivering!"

"Althea, Prudence is very warm."

"Can't you see, Remus? Honestly, she can't even bundle Prudence properly. I can't give my baby to her. Prudence will die of cold."

"I think it's best if we go. She's warm--and look--asleep."

"No--no, she's not. Let me have her back, please, please."

"No, it's best if we go--"

"No! You can't take her! I won't let you!"

"Althea--"

"NO! She's my baby! I can't lose her! Let me go!"

"I can't!"

"Let me go! I can't lose her! Let me go!"

"Stop!" she shouted, pounding her fist against the bottom of the boat.

Suddenly, Althea jolted forward as the boat landed against the shore. She whimpered once more as the dementors grasped her arms and lifted her out of the boat. The fog was not as thick on the island and she raised her head to see the imposing fortress. The fortress was three stories high, and every few large stone bricks a small barred window. Hanging out of those barred windows were hands, hands that had faces looking out at the new arrival, or at the dementors burying a coffin on the shore. That's my only way out...in a coffin, she thought as they reached the large bolted iron doors. The iron doors loudly creaked open and inside torches glowed against the damp walls of stone, giving off little light.

"Well, what do we have here," she heard a man say to her left, "a pretty thing...won't last long."

"Help me! You have to get me out of here, please!" another man pleaded. "You, bitch, help me!"

"You put the potato in the shoe. No, no! Potatoes are put in cauldrons! Spiders are put in shoes!"

Althea refused to look at them and followed the dementors as they led her deeper into the prison. The screaming, the wailing, and the mumbling of prisoners was constant and at times deafening as she followed the dementors to her future home. Ten feet before her, the dementors stopped and pointed to her cell. Before she took another step, she heard distinct humming to her right. 'Mull of Kintyre'...why would anyone hum that awful song, she thought, making a face. It's only good for torture like that time I--Sirius!

Althea quickly turned to face Sirius in his cell. He sat on his bed with his knees to his chest, continuing to hum. He was thin and dirty, his matted black hair covered his face. He is the reason I'm here. He is the reason I don't have my baby and can't have anymore. He is the reason Lily and James are dead, she thought, and with each reason, her anger increased exponentially.

"I HATE YOU!" she shrieked, lunging forward at his cell. "I hate you! I'll kill you myself!" she shouted, pulling at the bars.

Sirius did not look up at her and continued to hum.

"Look at me! Look at me, murderer!" she shouted, thrusting her arms through the bars.

Sirius raised his head.

For a brief moment, Althea caught her breath as she looked into his dimmed grey eyes. It's me, you bastard, your Althea--the one you tried to kill, she thought, her hands tightening around the cell bars. The one you promised you would not let anything horrible happen to...the one who readily believed all your lies. Recognize me--don't you know it's me? Or don't you care.

Something electric passed through Althea--that ache of enormous loneliness had disappeared and was replaced by absolute hatred for Sirius.

"Coward! I'll kill you!" she shouted, attempting to reach him through the bars.

Sirius continued to stare at her, just out of reach of her hands.

"Move closer, coward!"

"If you don't stop, they'll come after you," he replied and nodded with his head for her to look behind.

How dare he think of talking to her?

Althea did not listen and continued in a low voice, "On my grave, I will kill you. I will take enormous pleasure in slicing open your throat."

Suddenly, Althea felt the icy grip of the dementor and the horrible memories flooded her mind once more. Leave me alone, she thought, growing dizzy as she heard her mother scream. Leave me alone....

***

Althea awoke, shivering on the moldy mattress of her cell, unaware of how much time had passed since she fainted. The despair had once more filled her chest, but she knew how to alleviate it--Sirius. Immediately, the rage consumed her. She told him she would kill him and called him a coward...a coward! If anything Sirius hated more in the world, it was to be called a coward. She had called him a coward twice, and he did not respond with anger or any other emotion.

"Damn it!" she exclaimed, hitting the palm of her hand against the wall. "How could he be so calm?" Frustrated, she slammed her palm into the wall once more.

"Oi! I'm trying to sleep!" Sirius shouted and Althea's eyes widened with maniacal glee--he shared a wall with her.

"Sleep then!" she shouted back and began to pound her fists against the wall. Her arms tiring, she started to kick the wall with her feet--the noise echoing throughout her cell.

"Would you stop!"

Althea kicked the wall with greater fury.

"No!"

Finally, her legs tired and her feet tingling, Althea stopped and covered herself with her blankets. When she was fully rested, she would continue with her assault on the common wall. However, how could anyone rest in Azkaban--especially with a dementor outside the prison cell door? Would you stop the screaming, Althea thought, covering her ears with her hands as a woman a couple of cells over continued to scream about her lost puppy. Throwing the musty pillow over her head, Althea attempted to sleep, but as soon as she closed her eyes, horrible thoughts and images filled her mind.

"This is Herberta Browne--a Muggle--one of the giants had sheared off the side of her face with a fence post. She's very combative...we haven't been able to Obliviate her yet."

"Get that stick away from me!"

"Don't worry, I'm putting it away--see. Whoa, whoa, I'm here to help you. Now, I want to check how your face is healing.... Just relax a bit, and let me unwrap these dressings.... Good.... Good.... You're doing wonderfully--"

"Kill me."

"I can't do that.... I can only heal you.... There, last layer of dressings--"

"Kill me. I've nothing to live for."

"I won't.... Now, it's healing beautifully.... You weren't able to talk four days ago."

"I made a living by my face--you freaks took that from me."

"You are a model then?"

"Yes."

"In magazines and such?"

"Yes."

"Right, well, I know of an excellent Reconstructive Healer at St. Pantaleon's. I'll contact him and he'll come probably tom--"

"No need. Just let me die."

"I won't, Ms. Browne. I can tell you honestly, you're healing faster than expected. Healer Adson will be here tomorrow and you'll--"

"How will I know they won't come back?"

"The giants? The giants that did this were taken care of by the Ministry. Now, I'm still going to request you receive poppy juice, but I'm also going to request for you a Cheering Charm."

"What the bloody hell?"

"It'll help in the healing process--both will make you feel better. I'll give you more poppy juice and the Cheering Charm. Then I'll let Florence apply the new dressings and you can rest."

"Right."

"There you go.... If you need anything let Florence know, right? She'll know how to contact me if you need anything else. I'll be back tomorrow morning, then. Take care...."

"Healer Harrington, I have her on three drops of poppy juice every three hours for pain--"

"Right, good."

"I've also requested a major Cheering Charm every four hours."

"Oh, I don't think it's necessary."

"For her I think so. It'll help with the recovery process. The recent research shows a combination therapy of poppy juice and Cheering Charms increases rate of healing and creates a sense of better well being for the patient, making her outlook at her recovery more positive."

"Althea, you have a lot to learn still. We don't order things because it's the latest fashion. She's a Muggle."

"It's not the latest fashion. It's used at St. Pantaleon's, St. Foillan's, and Nonnatus. I know she's a Muggle, but it shouldn't change the therapy regiment."

"It's not customary."

"I don't care if it's not customary, I've ordered it. She has definite anxiety, depression, and thoughts of suicide. It's customary for any of our patients."

"Right, have one of the Healers-in-Training do it, Althea."

"I will. Good day, Healer Harrington...."

"What do you mean she's dead? She was healing perfectly."

"She killed herself."

"What?"

"Sometime during the night. They found her this morning."

"Wasn't she under observation? She was given a regiment of poppy juice and Cheering Charms! Caretakers are in and out of the rooms constantly!"

"Normally they are, but I was off last night and so was the Head Caretaker."

"Florence, this doesn't make any sense."

"I know, but I do have an idea."

"What? Tell me. What is it?"

"They took her chart--"

"Wait, I need that chart. Where did they take it?"

"I'm not sure, but I was able to glimpse it. The Cheering Charm was administered once...when you administered it."

"Bloody hell! I don't believe this! They killed her, Florence! They killed my patient! Damn it!"

"Is there a problem ladies?"

"Yes, Healer Harrington. My patient is dead. She did not receive her Cheering Charms as ordered."

"Althea, I didn't think it necessary. Risky, you know, she is--well was--a Muggle."

"Obviously it was a risk that should have been taken!"

"We'll make a note of it for next time."

"Likely."

"Are you questioning my Healing abilities?"

"I'm questioning your Healing abilities when Muggles are involved. So, are you enjoying your new equipment donated by the Black family?"

"Oh ho! Isn't that rich, coming from you. Who took you home yesterday? Sirius Black, was it? I think you have a conflict of interest."

"A conflict of interest? I don't deny treatment to Muggles."

Althea lifted the pillow from her face. The St. Mungo's Murderer, she thought, placing the pillow underneath her head. What I told Dumbledore, Moody was able to capture him.... I would have loved to have witnessed that capture.... I wonder where he's located here....

"Maybe he's dead already," she muttered, rubbing her forehead, but immediately stopped as she felt a large bruise on the right side of her forehead.

Snap...snap...

Althea sat up and looked around her cell.

Snap...

"What is that?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

Snap...snap...snap...

"What--where is that coming from?" she asked, the bed creaking as she stood.

She walked to the other side of the cell and the sounds lessened. It's coming from his bloody cell, she thought as she returned to her bed. What is that bastard doing?

"He's throwing rocks at the wall," she muttered--her eyes narrowing. "Stop!" she shouted, slamming the palm of her hand against the wall.

Snap...snap...

"I said stop!" she shouted, repeatedly slamming her palms against the wall.

"You kept kicking the wall," he replied and threw another rock against the wall. "It's only fair."

Althea stood from her bed in between the bed and wooden chair. "I said stop it!" she shouted, hurling her arms against the wall. As her arms made contact with the wall, a mixture of dull and sharp pains radiated through her forearms and up into her shoulders.

"No."

Snap...snap...

He continued to throw rocks against the wall, larger rocks and at a faster pace.

Furious, Althea stomped her foot against the ground. "I hate you!"

"You're not the first!" he shouted back and threw more rocks against the wall.

Snap...snap...snap...snap...

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" Althea screamed, jumping up and down, slamming her fists into the cool, damp wall. "I hate you!"

"You are mental and stupid," he said loudly and the sound of his voice enraged Althea.

"How--dare--you--speak--to--me--you--you--" she shouted between flailing her arms into the wall.

"I'm a what? What am I?"

"A heartless bastard!" she yelled, panting--her throat aching from her outburst.

If only this wall would fall, then I'd strangle him, she thought, resting her head against the cool, damp wall--her arms tingling and stinging. Althea lifted herself from the wall and kicked the chair next to her.

"I thought you'd be more fun, you know," he spoke and Althea heard another large rock hit the wall, "shagging supposed Death Eaters, and all. I thought I was entitled to something--there aren't many young murderesses here."

Althea grabbed the wooden chair she had just kicked. "I wouldn't touch you!" she shouted, throwing her chair against the wall.

The chair splintered in two and Sirius laughed evilly. "That's your only chair. They won't give you another one."

Althea still held part of the splintered chair in her hands. "I'll stab you in the heart with this broken chair leg!" she shouted, her hand tightening on the remaining chair leg.

"I don't have a heart!" he shouted and Althea threw the rest of the chair at the wall. "You confirmed that previously.... Anyway, isn't that how they caught you--shagging your bounty hunter? Who would do something as stupid as that?"

"Shut it!" she shouted, placing her hands over her ears.

"It amazes me how stupid some women can be."

Rage erupted in Althea as Sirius continued to laugh evilly. He's talking about me! About how stupid I was to believe him, she thought, her fists tightening as she imagined them strangling Sirius.

Althea took a deep breath and waited a moment, before she remarked, "Like your Althea?"

Sirius went silent and Althea laughed cruelly.

"Yeah, she believed every word you told her. Prophet said it was gruesome. Ministry found her body--found the baby's body, I mean--but never found her body. Bits and pieces...an ear here...a toe there--"

"Bitch!" Sirius growled and Althea thought she heard him sniff.

"What? You wanted her to die--everyone knows that! I bet before she died, she still thought you loved her and would save her."

"STOP IT!" he shouted and threw something large against the wall as it caused small pebbles to fall from the ceiling.

"Oh Sirius, where are you? Where are you? Sirius, help me! Our baby--please have mercy! Sirius, where are you?" she shouted, tears forming in her eyes.

Make him know what I was feeling...make him suffer as much as me, she thought, as she heard Sirius growling and throwing things about in his cell.

"STOP IT! STOP IT!" he sobbed.

"Why are you doing this to me? Have mercy! My baby! My baby!"

"STOP!"

"Please don't kill me! Sirius, where are you?"

"STOP!"

Althea was about to shout once more, but another's voice shouted louder than her voice. "No! No! Get away from me!" the man shouted, and the anger Althea had felt was quickly replaced by fear.

"What is going on?" she managed to ask as the cell became increasingly cold.

"Don't think anything," Sirius said hoarsely. "Don't think of anything."

Why should I believe him, she thought, but soon felt woozy as the voices returned. Althea groaned and fell to the floor, her face smacking against the stone floor. She lay motionless as the screams of the man grew louder and louder, to almost as if the screams were outside of his body and in her very cell. The man's screams filled her head and she wished she could bring her hands to her ears, but not even a finger could twitch. Suddenly, the screaming and pleading stopped--her cell regaining some of its meager warmth. Carefully, she lifted herself from the floor and staggered over to her bed, flinging herself upon it.

"What--what happened?" she asked aloud, resting the side of her face against the pillow.

"They took his soul," Sirius replied, breathing heavily. "If you don't think when they're hungry, they won't come after you."

"Right," she muttered, curling her body into a tight ball.

"Pray that God takes you before the dementors," he added and Althea heard him turn over in his bed. "Goodnight, Derry."

"Why are you still here then?" she asked, shivering.

"I can't die.... Now, goodnight."

Althea did not respond, but lay in her bed facing the wall that separated them.