~Albus~

It's easy to lose track of the days when your only markers of time are a skylight you only get to see when you're not being tortured, and a boy who gave up on the date months ago. It had been a week, or maybe two, I thought. Or maybe only a few days. Or maybe a month. How many hours or days had they put us in solitary confinement? How long had I been out the last time they'd used the cruciatus curse until I lost consciousness? For that matter, how long had that lasted? It had felt like hours, but maybe it hadn't been.

The only indication of the passage of time, other than the moon slowly going through its phases through the skylight, was the copy of the Prophet that one of the guards sometimes let Scorpius look at. The first one he got after we arrived gave the date as December 29th. Colette seemed unaffected by that, but I was startled. It had been weeks that we'd been here, and still no idea what they even wanted. Russey had said something about Colette being a spellmaker, of course, but no one had ever elaborated.

"What's the news?" Colette asked, her tone as casual as if we were all back at Hogwarts, reading the paper over breakfast.

"Um... Russey's being praised for being merciful to some DA members who got caught," Scorpius said, frowning as he read. "Doesn't say who they are, but apparently Parliament was arguing for Azkaban, and he ultimately decided on a detention center, instead."

Colette scoffed. "Oh, yeah, so merciful, isn't he?"

"He gave a really long statement about it," Scorpius continued. "I don't think... hang on."

"What?" I asked, though I couldn't quite bring myself to care about any of this. It was sad, and scary, sure, but it kind of paled in comparison to what was going on right here, at least for me.

"This says that the motion for detention centers over Azkaban was brought forward first by James Potter."

My head snapped up. "James Potter? Like my brother, James Potter?"

"I don't know of any other James Potters," Scorpius said, brow furrowed as he scanned the page. "Apparently, he's the head of public information services, or something."

"Isn't that what our mad friend over there did before she got thrown in here?" Colette asked. Emilia Warburton hadn't stirred since we'd gotten here, but when she was awake, we often heard her moaning and babbling incomprehensible things. The thought that she'd been booted out to here in order to make room for my brother made me sick.

Scorpius was still reading. "James has been very outspoken about his support for the Minister recently, it says. What on earth..."

In all the fear of the past few weeks, I'd nearly forgotten how angry at James I was. This, though? This was so much worse than just abandoning us and jetting off to France. He was actively siding with the enemy? I couldn't believe it. How could he?

Colette swore softly. "Does it say anything else about him?"

"Not really." Scorpius slid the paper through the bars so Colette could take it from around the wall. "It's mainly about Russey."

"I can't believe him!" I exclaimed. "How could he do this? He knows Russey works for Stillens!"

Scorpius gave me a very sorrowful glance. "Maybe, when he gave up on the DA, he stopped believing the things they said? He might think they were wrong about it, maybe?"

He definitely didn't think that. I knew, because Wren was the one who discovered that Russey wasn't under the Imperius curse, and we'd all found out from her before the Quibbler had published it. He knew who Russey worked for, and apparently he didn't care. James had fully become a traitor.

I turned my gaze on Colette, who had a hard, upset look on her face that told me she was thinking the same things I was. She glanced up from the paper after a few moments and met my eyes. "Well. This is great."

"Think he'll use all that new power to get us out of here?" I asked dully.

Colette laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. "Sure thing. Right after he pardons the entire DA, I'm sure."

Scorpius pursed his lips. "Surely... surely it's not as bad as it seems?"

"Oh, it certainly is." Colette shook her head, glaring at the far wall. "James is a bigger idiot than I ever thought. He's a traitor."

"Imagine what Wren would say." I closed my eyes, trying to picture it, but that got too painful very quickly. I couldn't think about her. "And... how could he... after Dad..."

"He's not worth thinking about," Colette announced firmly. She raised an eyebrow at me. "We can't do anything about him from here."

"I can disown him from here." My voice was closer to a growl than I'd expected it to be, but that seemed right. I'd thought I was angry at him before, thought I'd hated him before, but maybe I hadn't really understood what that meant because this, this overwhelming rage inside of me, this was what hatred really looked like. I truly hated him.

She nodded, conceding the point. "I suppose you can do that, yeah."

"If he's acting like this, I don't have a brother anymore."

Scorpius seemed horrified when my gaze passed over him, even if he tried to hide it. But Colette just nodded, the anger in her eyes mirroring what I felt. Rage. Seething rage. And a renewed drive to make it out of here, just so one day I could stand in front of James and tell him all of this myself.

Days kept passing, though who knows how many. One day we woke up to find that the cell next to mine was empty. Emilia Warburton was gone. After several days had passed with no sign of her, Scorpius ruled her as gone for good. Though he said there was no use speculating about what might have happened, Colette and I did anyway. I hoped that they'd released her, maybe, since they clearly couldn't get anything out of her anymore.

Colette suspected that they'd killed her, because she was useless to them.

They'd figured out very quickly that hurting Colette didn't get much of anywhere with her. That didn't ever stop them, really—I thought that Welling had intentionally sought out people who got off on other people's pain, just like him. It did make them spend more time hurting me, though.

There was a noble part of my mind that thought this was for the best. I'd rather take it than let my friends be hurt, right? But the rest of me simply wanted to die most of the time, and selfishly would've let anyone else be hurt if it meant they'd leave me alone. Luckily, none of the guards seemed to be asking my opinion or preference on any of that, so I never had to admit how cowardly and selfish I really was.

One thing I was convinced of at all times, though, coward or not, was that Colette could not give in. I told her this as often as I could: begging her in the middle of being tortured, reassuring her after being dumped back in our cells, sometimes yelling at her in the hallway on our way to unimaginable pain. She hadn't wavered yet that I'd seen, but I wanted to keep up the constant reminders so that she never would.

Whatever the majority of me was saying about wanting the pain to end, I knew deep down that it couldn't. I had to keep enduring, because if I didn't, I could be breaking Colette, too. I was not going to be responsible for that.

It's funny how quickly you get used to being scared all the time, honestly. Not "used to" as in it didn't bother me anymore, of course, but "used to" as in it was normal. The mantra of it's going to be okay had almost stopped playing in my head, because I was starting to accept that it wouldn't be.

~~~~

I gasped for breath as the spell that had been choking me was lifted. Honestly, I'd thought they'd crushed my windpipe, so it was a relief to find myself still able to breathe. I couldn't sag to the floor, because the guard behind me had grabbed my arms to keep me upright. Instead, I glanced across the room, trying to catch Colette's eye through the shimmery barrier.

She was staring at me, that unreadably intense expression on her face that I'd almost figured out, after knowing her for six years. Upset, and trying to hide it. Or trying not to be.

And there was Welling, standing at her shoulder. He narrowed his eyes at me, then glanced at Colette. "Shall we go again?"

Her expression might have twitched, or it might have been the shimmering of the barrier. I hardly had the strength to manage a nod, but I still tried to. To let her know I was all right, even though I wasn't, and I could take it, even though I couldn't.

"I'd rather you went to Hell," Colette responded after a moment, her voice as cold and unaffected as ever.

Welling tutted disapprovingly. "So impolite. I suppose we'll just go again, then." A nod at the guard, and suddenly I couldn't breathe again. Black spots danced across my vision as the room seemed to get farther and farther away until it was gone.

~~~~

When I came to, I found myself on the floor in the middle of my cell. I'd been dumped here unceremoniously enough times that that wasn't unusual. I pushed myself up with my hands, groaning as the world spun around me. I ended up just rolling over to stare at the ceiling, where I could see a sliver of the moon high above me through the skylight.

"Are you all right?"

I turned my head to see Colette watching me from across the way. She was sitting against the wall, knees pulled up to her chest. It was probably just the dim light, but it looked like she'd been crying.

"Totally fine," I said, before coughing so much that I had to sit up in spite of the spinning. The words were irritating my throat, it felt like. When I realized Colette was watching me with alarm, I managed to stop and smile at her.

She just pursed her lips. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I... I don't know." A shrug. "I wish you weren't here."

I mean, I wished I wasn't here, either, of course, but that couldn't be helped. "If I wasn't here, though, and I was back at Hogwarts, do you know how frantic with worry I'd be about you? At least this way I know you're not alone, right?"

Colette laughed seemingly in spite of herself. "You're an idiot, Albus," she said, in a somehow affectionate way.

"You're the one who's friends with an idiot, then, so what does that make you?"

That didn't quite get a laugh, but she did smile tiredly at me. It faded pretty quickly. After a few moments of silence, she shook her head. "How long can we reasonably keep this up?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't let them torture you into insanity."

"Sure, you can."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "I can't. But I could see them doing that."

I won't lie and say the thought hadn't crossed my mind. But we couldn't worry about it. If I went mad, I went mad. The more important thing was that Colette couldn't do what they wanted. "I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. That's kind of the whole point."

"What can we do about it, exactly? You're not giving in."

"I know."

I sighed, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. "Listen, Colette, I really don't think they'll do that. They could lose their leverage if they make me go mad, right? For all they know, you wouldn't care anymore."

She didn't point out that she would care, likely because it went without saying (even if I would've appreciated it being resaid). She did nod thoughtfully, as if that hadn't occurred to her. "I suppose that's a good point."

"I mean, I feel like they might look at it the same way as killing me," I said, somehow sounding much more confident in this prediction than I felt. "They wouldn't have anything to hold over your head anymore if the worst happened, and I was just rocking in the corner and singing to myself and basically dead to the world like Emilia was, right?"

"Going mad wouldn't make you dead to the world—"

"Okay, yes, obviously, but I think they might think of it that way." I raised an eyebrow. "And I don't think they'll risk it if there's even a chance that you might think that way."

"For all they know, that'll be the thing that breaks my spirit completely," Colette said darkly.

"I don't believe your spirit can be broken." She glanced up at me quickly, and I just lifted my head a little higher, daring her to contradict me.

She did, which I suppose I should have seen coming. "Anyone can be broken, Al. I'm not special."

As much as I wanted to argue that, I had a feeling it wouldn't help. I just sighed and nodded. "Fine. But you're still less breakable than the average person."

Instead of arguing, she just rolled her eyes. But when she glanced back at me, she shot me a smile. "Thank you."

So... life was horrible. And Colette was struggling, probably a lot more than she was letting on. But we were together, and I hadn't been lying when I said I was glad about that. If I had the choice to be safe and away, with Colette still stuck here alone, I wasn't sure I'd choose to go.

~~~~

Question of the Day: Did you ever lie about your favorite color because you wanted it to match your Hogwarts House?

Answer: Possibly... my favorite color has been yellow for a very long but I didn't want people to think I was a Hufflepuff in high school so I would lie and tell people it was blue.

Vote and comment!

~Elli

Word count: 2338