When You're Strange. {Harry Potter}

Epilogue.

"What've we got here?"

"Fresh meat!"

"She's a pretty one, too!"

"Don't be scared, girlie, we don't bite,"

"Speak for yourself!"

I keep my chin up high as Arthur Weasley puts me in my temporary holding cell. I repeat: temporary. There's no way I'm staying here.

He leads me into a damp, dark cell, identical to every other cell. I shiver and flinch when icy, cold water drips down from the ceiling onto me.

"Alice, We'll try our hardest to sort this all out. But, until then, try and stay out of trouble." He says quietly to me, pulling the jacket off of his own back to give to me. The sleeves hang off of my arms, and the bottom of the jacket reaches my knees, but I don't care. It's better than sitting here in a shredded tank-top.

He pats my arm in comfort before shutting my cell door shut. The lock clangs loudly, echoing in my head. This is real. I'm in Azkaban. I'm only 16, and I'm in Azkaban. I never imagined my life turning out like this.

I look around, squinting to be able to see in the dimly-lit cell. I take a seat on the hard, metal bed that is bolted to the wall. I hug my knees tightly, feeling scared and cold. I sit with my eyes closed, listening to the far-off screams from the other prisoners, or the constant moans and whimpers from the insane prisoners, that have probably been here longer than I've been alive. Will I turn out like that? Am I going to be stuck in here, for the rest of my life, just moaning, and lying here?

I wipe a few tears from my eyes. I'm sick of crying over things I cannot change. I didn't do anything wrong, so how will they find me guilty? There is no evidence pointing to me, other than I'm the only Death Eater that got caught.

I bang my head against the rough, stony wall behind me. Poor Ron. I brought him into this mess, and right when we're in the middle of all it, I leave. Of course, not by choice. If I had a choice, I would be sitting back at Hogwarts, perhaps holding Ron's hand, while we share a butterbeer at the Hog's Head. I can't help but to laugh. Wouldn't that be nice.

I hop to my feet, feeling antsy. But, when I get to my feet, I hear something fall to the ground. I stop for a moment, scared that someone else's in the cell with me, but I don't hear anything else. I get on my hands and knees, feeling around. It sounded as if something fell from the bed.

Not being able to see anything, I feel around on the damp ground. My fingers run over something dry, feeling like parchment. I pick it up and examine it. A letter.

I quickly make my way over to the cell door, where the moon shines in. In clearly written caligraphy, it reads:

ALICE RHOWEN

Where did this letter come from? Did if fall from Mr. Weasley's jacket? Or, could it have been in my pocket?

I tear open the sealed letter, and hold it up to the light, straining to be able to see.

Dear Alice,

      By the time you are reading this, it's too late. You're already sitting in Azkaban, awaiting your trial, I'm sure. So, this probably has no worth to you.

    I'm sorry. As your only other blood relative still alive, other than your brother, it's my duty to keep you safe. As hard as I tried, I have failed. I thought that if you were under the protection of the Death Eaters, you'd be safe. But, I forgot that you have your mother's ambition. She never stopped until she fulfilled what she wanted.

    Your parents were not bad people. Alice. They loved you and your brother. They had high hopes for you. They knew you were bound to acheive greatness. But, they unfortunately had more love for the Dark Lord than they did for their children.