Azkaban

He shudders at the eyeless gaze of the Dementors. An Auror's training always includes a visit to Azkaban. He looks around and mentally changes "Azkaban" to "Hell."

The prisoners stare, almost hungrily, at the Aurors as they pass through the narrow halls. There are sounds of screams from somewhere far off, but all else is silent. Their souls are too far gone to allow them to scream.

The memories are hard to fight back, but he pushes them out of his mind as much as possible. He doesn't need that distraction - and his childhood isn't something he wants to think about. Ever.

Moody turns and glares at him and he hurries to catch up. He can hear the older man saying something about not allowing anything to distract oneself from one's goal, and he nudges his friend, just ahead of him.

"Just like Moody, that."

"Think he ever thinks about anything else?" The question is accompanied by a grin, weak and forced in this hell, but it's enough to make the Dementors near them start forward. Moody glares again and they shrink back.

Again he pushes away the memories. It's getting harder. Will he be forced to remember that other hell before he leaves this one?

"It isn't pleasant here." Moody's voice carries over the group. "It's not supposed to be pleasant. This is a punishment, and even though we're showing you how unpleasant it is here, I don't want any of you feeling sorry for the Death Eaters you're going to put here. They deserve it. They are all guilty of killing or torturing innocent people, and this is where they end up. If you can catch them. I'm beginning to doubt you will, from the way some of you have been performing.

"Now, as we're here, we might as well see if any of you can cast a Patronus Charm when you really need it. Wands out!"

Most of them have their wands out already. The few who hadn't pull them out quickly. Moody grins.

"Now, what are you standing around for?"

Moody knows as well as they do that if anyone did anything too early, before he had told them to, they were warned about Aurors having to follow instructions, etc., but he enjoys pretending he doesn't.

"Go ahead." Moody leans against the wall as they start.

It is harder here, of course. Most of the Aurors, even the ones who did it perfectly at the Ministry, are having trouble summoning happy memories in this place. He and his friend beside him do it perfectly, with very little difficulty. But they'd been able to do this since sixth year at school.

"Don't show off," Moody admonishes them. "All of you tried? How many managed to do it?" About half of them raise their hands. "How many of you got more than a bit of silver haze?" About half of the hands go down. "You might have a chance."

"Will we ever actually need to know this?" someone asks.

Moody glares at him. "You'll be facing Dementors," he says. "They aren't all loyal to us. Voldemort" - most of them flinch - "can give them much more scope for their talents than we can. Let's go."

They pass back through the halls. He finds it harder to hold back the stream of memories from his past, and eventually he is nearly lost in some of them. But soon they are at the entrance.

Sirius Black walks out of the darkness of Azkaban and into the light.