~Albus~

Time is meaningless. Days and nights, weeks and months, it had all blurred together past the point of recognition. That infernal skylight in the roof of my cell was the only thing that gave us any sense of the passage of time, but even that was starting to lose any sense. Why was I the only one with a skylight, anyway?

Colette had stopped asking for the date, or any news, when Scorpius managed to get his hands on a copy of the Prophet. The news was never good, and usually needed more context to understand. I got the feeling that James had been mentioned more than once, and Scorpius simply hadn't told me.

I was beginning to think that the real thing that would break us all wasn't the torture at all,  but the sheer boredom of living the same thing every day. There were only so many times I could count the number of stones in the walls of my cell, after all. I suppose we could have talked about home, wondered about our friends at school or away from it, but neither Colette nor I brought any of that up. I saw them enough in my dreams, after all. When you're living in hell, even your good dreams end up being torturous, because you eventually have to wake up.

If Colette suffered from that problem, I didn't know. It was like we had some silent agreement to not bring up anything on the outside. Though she probably wouldn't have admitted it, I got the feeling that it would have wrecked Colette as much as it would have wrecked me.

Okay, I know that sounds a bit worrying, like we were bundling everything up and refusing to confide in one another. Terrible way to keep a friendship alive, obviously. But trust me, we were both being very open with each other. That was simply the one topic we avoided, and I thought it was more for sanity's sake than a refusal to be vulnerable. If I even let myself think about Poppy, I had a tendency to break down crying. Better to not even think.

I wouldn't have said Colette was close to breaking. Every time the guards came in, whether to drag her off to solitary or both of us off to torture, she seemed to be made of stone, incapable of anything other than her insistent disrespect. But when we were alone, especially after Scorpius had fallen asleep, I felt like I was starting to see cracks, chips in the veneer she'd had for so many years.

Yes, I'd seen her cry once before. I suppose you could argue that Astra leaving had been the first nail wedging itself underneath that mask I'd really believed was just how she was, before. But that was nothing like this. Nothing like watching her verbally spiral through her doubts about letting me be driven mad, or be killed, and whether this was worth it. Nothing like the pure exhaustion I could see on her face every time they brought her back from solitary, which she no longer bothered to hide. Nothing like seeing her clutching her knees to her chest, nearly breaking down into sobs as she apologized yet again for the fact that I was here.

At least she hadn't shown any of that around Welling or his lackeys. I could tell, after she'd recovered her stoic demeanor, that she was frustrated every time at letting out anything at all. But... I don't know. I recognize that I'm a far more outwardly emotional person than Colette will ever be, of course, but I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe it was a little healthier for her not to try to bottle all of that up. I felt a little honored that she could let it out with me. Grateful that she had someone here, even if that meant I was in hell with her.

It was one of those times, after Colette had been brought back from solitary in the middle of the night. I was a lighter sleeper than Scorpius, so I was always woken up by the banging of the door and the jeers of the guards. Today had been no exception, and now, long after they were gone, Colette and I sat up.

"Was it bad this time?" I asked softly, after several minutes of silence.

She'd been shivering, just staring at the far wall as if not completely aware of where she was. Though she didn't turn her head to look at me, I could see her eyes moving down, a sign that she was still here, at least. After a moment, she nodded choppily. "They have dementors."

My eyes widened. "How many?"

"I have no idea." She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. "It was horrible, though."

"What... what did you see?"

She shook her head, finally looked over at me. The pain in her eyes cut deeper than normal. A deep breath, then, "You."

My breath caught in spite of myself. That hadn't been what I'd expected. "I... what?"

"I mean, my parents were there, too, some. Welling. But mostly it was you, being hurt."

"Oh." I blinked. My eyes were wet, for some reason. "Oh, okay."

She chuckled, though it sounded pretty empty. "You're surprised? That all this is the worst thing I can remember?"

"I... I guess not," I spluttered. If I thought about it, I guess this experience would have most of my worst memories, too. And it would probably be the times I had to watch Colette being hurt more than times I'd been hurt myself. I suppose I was just surprised that Colette would admit that so easily, that... I don't know, that she cared about me. That sounds mad, I know. But even now, Colette didn't express that kind of stuff, at least not out loud.

She was frowning at me, and I made an effort to compose myself. Before I could think of anything to say, she tilted her head. "Are you surprised that it's you?"

I pursed my lips. "Maybe a little."

Colette sighed. "Trust me, Al, I'd rather be tortured for the rest of my life than watch you get hurt one more time."

"I'm glad it's me, and not you," I said, smiling faintly. "I don't think I could handle it like you."

She gave me a grim smile. "I'm really not as strong as you think I am."

"You haven't let me down yet."

"That's because I've got you here," she said softly, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. "I'm getting all that from you."

I'd been under the impression that it was the other way around, but Colette seemed exhausted. Maybe it was better to let it go for now. "I think we should get to sleep. I'm sure you're tired."

"A bit, yeah." She laughed a little before standing up and walking over to her cot. "Sleep well."

I didn't, of course, but that was pretty normal. I sat on my cot for a while, watching as Colette's breathing gradually grew steadier and she slipped off into what I hoped was a dreamless sleep. Then I laid back, staring up at the nearly full moon peeking through the skylight, willing my body to somehow create energy without the actual sleep part.

Poppy ran her hand through my hair, but her eyes were darting around my face in concern. "I'm sorry, Al. I wish I could make it better."

"It's all right," I said with a sigh. I couldn't remember what was wrong, but my mouth seemed to be working separately from my mind. "I guess he's making his own choices, isn't he? Can't do anything about that."

"It's still horrible." She sighed and let her hand drop, and I wished I could grab it, pull her close. "I just... I keep thinking about what Wren would think, if she knew."

I winced. "I'm trying not to think about that. Makes all this with James even worse."

Poppy nodded and leaned back against the bookshelf behind her, and I realized we were in the library at Hogwarts. James had just come to officially become my and Lily's guardian, hadn't he? And proved beyond a doubt that he'd really become a traitor. If only I'd known back then what more he could be capable of.

"So many things it hurts to think about," Poppy said musingly, snapping me back to this moment. She was so close, close enough that I could smell her perfume. I would have. Been able to reach out and touch her, if I could control my body at all.

"At least we're together," I said. "This would be so much worse if you weren't here."

That got a smile. "The feeling's mutual." She touched my arm lightly, and I felt sparks flying throughout my body. "I love you, Al."

"I love you, too," I whispered, leaning closer to her. My arm found its way around her waist, and Poppy's arms were around my neck. I glanced between her eyes and her lips, then she was leaning in, and my breath caught—

I woke with a start, the ghost of Poppy's lips dancing across mine. The cells were still as poorly lit as always, but a glance up revealed an early-morning sky. For a moment, I stayed still, listening for something that might have woken me, but the silence remained unbroken by anything except my rather ragged breathing. I sat back, trying to recall the dream that was already flitting away. It had felt so real, she'd seemed so close... why did it have to end?

I didn't realize I was about to cry until a sob caught in my breath. Poppy, I love you, I thought, hoping somehow she might know it. I miss you.

It's going to be all right. The words popped into my head, as clear as if she'd actually said them aloud right next to me. It had been weeks, maybe months since that mantra had played through my mind. I didn't know why it had suddenly come back. Maybe it was just my exhaustion and fear and longing for safety. But I clung to it, hoping somehow it was a sign from God that she was thinking about me, missing me too.

A few hours later (to the best of my judgment), Colette and Scorpius were both awake. They'd brought us what passed for a meal (gray sludge and nearly moldy bread) and we'd settled in for another day (or days) of boredom until the guards came to break it up with something worse. Scorpius had just suggested rereading the week-old copy of the Prophet he still had when the door banged open at the end of the hall.

Scorpius scrambled away from the bars and busied himself with his newspapers, not sparing a glance back at me. I pursed my lips and met Colette's eyes. What would it be now? I saw my concern mirrored in her face for just an instant, but it flickered away as soon as the guards stepped into view.

Only it wasn't just the guards. I tried not to look shocked as Welling appeared. He stopped to glance between both of us, a smug smile on his face. "Well, St. Pierre, are you feeling more cooperative today?"

"If by cooperative you mean I'd like to murder you, maybe," she snapped. The glare on her face was harsh enough that I almost withered just looking at it, even though it wasn't directed at me.

Welling tutted, making a show at being disappointing. "How unfortunate. In that case, I'd like to introduce you to a good friend of mine." He stepped to the side, and a woman came into view. She was short and stocky, with scars across her face and arms and a scowl to match Colette's. Welling gestured to her with a cordial smile. "This is Justina Bosko."

"Oh, scary," Colette said, rolling her eyes. "A new torturer. I'm practically shaking."

Welling chuckled. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable by his unflappable good mood. Normally, Colette had pissed him off by now. He had to have something really nasty up his sleeve if she wasn't getting on his nerves at all.

"I'm afraid Ms. Bosko's skills are a little more specialized," Welling said. He glanced between us with a sneer. "She comes to us from Poland. I'm not sure if either of you are aware, but Poland has a much greater population of one certain wizarding minority. Can you guess who that would be?"

"Cut to the chase, Ferdinand," Colette snapped. Her tone dripped with contempt.

Welling frowned at her, finally seeming a little annoyed. "Ms. Bosko is a werewolf," he said. "And she has graciously agreed to extend her services to us if you refuse to cooperate."

I could feel the blood draining from my face. What did he mean, extend her services? Colette seemed a little stunned, too. When I looked over at her, she was blinking, clearly trying to get the shock off her face. "What the hell does that mean?" she asked after a minute.

Welling sighed, the same sigh a parent might give when their small child had asked a ridiculously obvious question. "I didn't think I would have to spell it out of you. Unless you agree to do what we want, Ms. Bosko will be turning your friend here into one of her kind at the next full moon."

As much as I knew it would make Colette upset later, I had to sit down at that. They were going to infect me with lycanthropy? That... that was illegal. Ridiculous. Surely they couldn't mean that...

Colette's glare had grown harder, which meant she was struggling to hold it at all. "You're bluffing," she said softly.

"I can assure you, I'm not," Welling said. "However, you're free to test that assumption, if you'd like. You have two days to decide."

"Her decision is no." I started, not even realizing I was speaking until it was done. Everyone turned to look at me, seeming surprised that I'd said anything. I was surprised, too, honestly, but felt the need to press on now.  "Turn me into a werewolf. I don't care. But Colette's not giving in."

Colette was staring at me, seeming pained, but Welling at least took me seriously. He narrowed his eyes at me. "You'll likely regret that, Potter."

I shook my head. "Screw off."

At that, Justina Bosko grabbed the bars of my cell as if she wanted to come bite me right then. She let out a low, wolfish growl, staring me down with a hungry glare, and I shuddered involuntarily. Welling raised an eyebrow, seeming satisfied, then glanced back at Colette. "Like I said, you have two days to think it over."

Before either of us could say anything, the procession was halfway down the hall. Colette had slumped down on her cot by the time the door slammed closed. I bit my lip, sure my face was ashen as I met her eyes. "Oh, Albus..." she said softly.

"You can't give in. I don't care if they're bluffing or not."

"I..." She closed her eyes, wincing as if she was fighting off a migraine. "This a really serious thing, Albus."

"I'd rather be turned into a werewolf than know that you broke to save me from it." I shook my head with more conviction than I really felt. "Who's to say they wouldn't do it anyway, after you'd done whatever it is they want. Besides, I'm sure they were bluffing."

"I don't know how they'd get a werewolf to agree to do stuff like that," Scorpius piped up, shooting me a look that was more scared and less comforting than I think he realized. "I've never heard of them using werewolves, either, so surely there's nothing to worry about."

"Exactly. It's a ridiculous threat."

Colette shook her head. "You guys don't get it. You don't have a lot of werewolves here, all right? It's different in France, and Poland, and other countries. I know not all werewolves are terrible people, but there are many who are, who attack and turn people for fun, who make sure all werewolves have a bad name. I don't think it's so far-fetched that Welling found one of them." She glanced at me, and I thought for a moment that her eyes were filling with tears. "Of course I don't think werewolves are monsters by definition,  Al, but that's a horrible life. I can't just write this off."

"You can," I said, shooting a glance at Scorpius, who just looked worried now. "I'm telling you I don't mind."

"Is that actually true?"

Absolutely not. In fact, everything inside me was screaming at me to tell her to give in, to avoid this at all costs. Just because I thought werewolves deserved rights didn't mean I wanted to be one, after all. I closed my eyes, realizing she could already see that on my face. "No. I suppose I do mind. But... I can't let you give in, Colette. I can't do that. I'm not worth it."

When I opened my eyes again, Colette had buried her head in her hands. She was shaking her head slowly. "Yes, you are."

"I'm not. Don't you dare give in, or I'll never speak to you again."

She met my eyes, and suddenly I felt like crying, too. "I won't," she said softly. "But you'd be worth it, if I did."

I opened my mouth, but had to close it again, because no words would come out. She looked away again, taking shaky breaths as she did, and I felt my lip trembling. It was one thing for her to say things that alluding to that, but... "You know you're my best friend, right?"

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"I love you. You're my best friend. I just... I want you to know."

For a moment, she just stared at me, a stunned expression gracing her face, very similar to what I imagine mine had looked like a few moments ago. It seemed to take her a moment to gather her thoughts. "I... I love you too, Al," she said quietly. "And as childish as best friends sounds... I suppose you're mine, as well."

I smiled a little. "So... as best friends, you won't give in on my account because I'm asking you not to, right?"

She nodded, a weak smile on her face. "No. I won't."

"You can just help me brew the wolfsbane potion when we get out of here, right?"

"Of course." Colette laughed, though it might have been half sob. "Anytime."

"I feel like I'm third wheeling," Scorpius cut in. My eyebrows furrowed in concern, but when I looked over at him, he just looked amused on top of the worry from earlier. "It's kind of cute, I guess."

"If we ever get out of here, and you tell anyone—" Colette started.

"What, that you're really a big softy?" Scorpius laughed. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Besides, that's only if we ever get out of here, which I'm not convinced will happen."

I groaned. "The last thing we need is pessimism, Scorp."

"I'm being a realist!"

Colette shrugged. "He's got a point."

"From the queen of the pessimists, that's not very helpful."

That got a laugh out of them both, and we managed to steer the conversation away from the looming threat of lycanthropy. I can't say it never really left my mind, though. And every time I met Colette's eyes, serious and somewhat sorrowful even if we were laughing, I got the feeling that it never really left hers, either.

~~~~

inked_depths, this one's for you.

Merry Christmas, to my followers who celebrate! Hope your holiday season is full of joy and rest.

Question of the Day: What's your favorite niche Harry Potter lore?

Answer: This might not be a shock, but the mechanics of occlumency and legilimency fascinate me. I didn't make up the thing about occlumens being able to resist veritaserum! That's just so cool, and intriguing, and I love that I get to explore it in a more in depth way than canon ever did. On that note, obliviation is a close second for similar reasons; I'm really enjoying fleshing my ideas out in this book.

Vote and comment!

~Elli

Word count: 3227