The Greywitch Trials | Harry Potter AU

Entombed

Eloise had no recollection of waking and doubted she ever would regain the memory. The blankness of her mind was familiar, magical. What she didn't understand was why she'd revived, but neither of her cellmates had. 

The cell was a dark, grimy brick room with no doors and nothing in the way of windows aside from thin slits in the wall that ran nearly floor to ceiling and let in a painfully cold and wet draft. She'd long since pulled Dennis' frail body into her arms, both for warmth and to ease the protective beast within her that longed to feel in control and safe in the grim situation. Across the cell, a boy around her age had been carelessly dumped on the ground. He had blood all over his face from a gash on his forehead, but she was almost certain it was Justin Finch-Fletchley. She'd recognize the long face of her housemate anywhere. They'd shared far too many games of Exploding Snap throughout the years for her to believe otherwise. 

When Justin's form twitched, she stilled her hand, which had absently been brushing up and down Dennis' spine. Slowly, painfully Justin moved. His body was clearly stiff and bruised if his jerky movements were anything to go by. It took him a long moment to get himself into a sitting position, and only then did he notice her presence. He froze, as she had, but his muscles loosened as recognition flashed over his face. 

"Thompson," He murmured with a smile that half winced, "Fancy seeing you here. Come here often?"

"Only on Fridays with the lads," She shifted her arm slightly, and Justin's gaze dipped to Dennis, his eyes hardening. 

"Fuck. What is he? Fifteen?"

"Don't know. We've been gauging the date by season for quite some time."

Justin nodded, "I don't remember the last time I held a Prophet."

"You've been running too, then? I suppose that means you'd know as much as I do about what's going on. Shite."

"Actually, I'm quite familiar with our particular situation. I wasn't on the run; I was in hiding. Padma and Pavarti had me stashed in their flat for weeks. I was going quite well until someone tipped someone off and ... well, here I am."

"Where is here? Azkaban, I suppose. But what exactly are we doing here?"

"It's like the muggles," Justin rubbed his hands together for warmth, before giving up and tucking them under his armpits, "they save us up for when he wants to make a demonstration. Whenever he feels that people are getting too brave, he holds a Trial."

"Trial?" The word felt acidic on her tongue. 

"Yeah. It's this whole ordeal where a few of us muggle-borns or blood-traitors are dragged into the Ministry in chains and are sentenced to death for treason." 

Eloise felt like being sick over the stone bricks, "How long have you been here?"

"A few weeks, maybe more. It's only a matter of time before my name comes up at the top of the list. When I was with Padma and Pavarti, the Trials were nearly every week, but they were slowing down. I think they only happen once a month or so now that everyone's spirit has been well and truly crushed."

"Charming. Can't wait."

The two both released similar huffing wheezes that were more exhalation than laugh.

Eloise had had many moments over the months in which she'd pondered her mortality, but it had never felt so sure and inevitable. Magical Folk weren't like the muggles; they didn't believe there was a special place in wait after death. It was a release, peace. Unless, of course, one came back as a ghost. Those choice few generally had either a form of unfinished business, or were simply too restless to resign themselves to eternal sleep.