Chapter 2: Yard Time in Azkaban
2022-07-14 Author: I'm Just a Pigeon
Azkaban was a prison. No matter what terrifying titles the outside world gave it, or what strange legends were woven about it, nothing could change the fact that it was a prison.
Even though his predecessor, the spineless one, had been literally scared to death upon hearing he was being sent to Azkaban after his trial, it didn't mean the prisoners here lived a life worse than death every day. If that were truly the case, this prison would have been shut down long ago.
This was the only prison in the British Wizarding World. Whether you were male or female, a minor offender or a felon, you would be locked up in Azkaban after being sentenced. If this place didn't differentiate between prisoners and just threw everyone in together, people would end up dead in all sorts of ways.
Minor offenders like William were held together in multi-person cells. The patrolling Dementors wouldn't linger here all day. They came by once daily under the pretext of an inspection to have their fill, but for the rest of the time, the Dementors rarely came over. This was, one, to reduce protests from prisoners upon their release, and two, to give these people time to brew new happiness.
And among these minor offenders, who could avoid contact with Dementors for long periods, a faint form of social interaction was still maintained.
Food, alcohol, books, and newspapers, smuggled in through various means, circulated and were consumed among these minor offenders, establishing a new system of transactions.
"Nine chocolates for seven pages of the Flourish and Blotts owner's new private stash!"
"Five! Cut the crap, last time you brought me a damn fairy tale!"
Transactions like this were quickly struck among the huddled prisoners, while the Enforcers temporarily assigned as guards turned a blind eye. For them, this wasn't taxing work, and they could even pocket a hefty sum of Galleons each time.
This was the once-a-month yard time, and also the most heated day for trade on the island.
The Dementors did not participate in this activity. Unless absolutely necessary, they were unwilling to suppress their ability to feed on the surrounding happiness, preferring to let the Ministry of Magic's Enforcers take over.
On this day, the prisoners were gathered together to have their hair cut, drink potions to resist common prison illnesses, and undergo a thorough magical cleansing—all things that obviously couldn't be done with Dementors present.
At this moment, William was being relentlessly pestered by his cellmate, Big Guy. Big Guy was a good six-foot-three, but his main hustle in prison was that of a middleman. When two parties couldn't agree on an exchange price during a barter, they would call him over to do a simple calculation, and the deal would be made. He himself would take a piece of candy or a cigarette as his commission.
This guy had been in a similar line of business before he was sent here. When the Enforcers were raiding the black market, he got singled out for his size and just couldn't get away. His prison term was two years, not too severe.
He was now chattering on, trying to persuade William to start something like a book club. Not to sell books, but to gather a group of prisoners for a secret half-hour storytelling session. They would sell tickets; William would be in charge of telling the story, and he'd be in charge of gathering people, collecting money, and keeping watch. They would split the earnings sixty-forty—William getting sixty, him forty.
With the large amount of supplies smuggled in during today's yard time, the two of them might just make a small fortune.
"Listen to me, little William, this is a legitimate business. If you tried something like this on the outside, you wouldn't even make a fraction of what you can in here. We've got the Enforcers helping to keep watch! Where else can you get treatment like this?"
*You don't have a clue what 'legitimate' means, do you?*
William couldn't be bothered with him. This wasn't the first time Big Guy had tried to persuade him. He'd already given his reasons countless times, but the man still wouldn't give up. So, he let him talk. William had no intention of cultivating a fan base in prison. He only told stories inside to get by and improve his treatment. His prison term wasn't long, anyway. Could he really rely on this to save up a pile of Galleons as extra income in his prison cell?
The prisoners here weren't willing to pay that much for a story. This was a mixed prison. If it were a purely male prison, he'd be too busy trying to make himself look ugly to avoid trouble; how could he possibly pop up to tell stories for better treatment?
He tolerated Big Guy's nagging mainly to conceal his identity. He had arrived right as he was being sent to Azkaban. Arrested along with him were his smuggling teammates. The original body's owner had received the lightest sentence, but he was the only one who had been literally scared to death. Several of his teammates were still locked up in Azkaban.
Those guys were also incredibly unlucky. They thought they had paid enough in bribes to be fine, but then came the election for a new Minister for Magic. The newly appointed Minister Fudge wanted to make good on his campaign promise to crack down on smuggling. When the Enforcers appeared, his teammates thought it was one criminal group trying to take out another. Aside from the original William, who was too timid to fight back, every single one of them was slapped with a pile of charges. The lightest sentence was ten years.
When they saw William, they couldn't even recognize him. The long-term watch of the Dementors had stripped them of most of their ability to care for themselves; they moved almost mechanically, following the lines of prisoners.
This brought William a sense of relief, but also an inevitable sadness. The fox mourns the death of the hare; he grieved for his own kind. If his predecessor hadn't been such a coward, his transmigrated self would likely be in no better state.
Big Guy put an arm around William's shoulder, turning him to walk in the other direction. "Alright, little William, stop looking. They wouldn't know you anyway. Felons can hardly stay sane. Those greedy Dark Guards want to chew our bones to pieces and swallow them. Just look after yourself for now."
Sighing, he added, "Actually, they're better off than us. Their sentences pass in a daze. We're the ones who are truly suffering. The Dark Guards coming by once a day is one thing, but tsk—they don't even pay."
At this, Big Guy gave an extremely exaggerated shrug, which made William burst out laughing.
"Alright, alright, I know you're popular, but I never thought those Dark Guards would like you so much. Next time, try standing with your back to the doorway. Maybe that bunch of Dark Guards really won't come in."
"Go on, get out of here. But fine, that could work, on one condition: you have to promise me we'll start a book club. The split is you get four, I get six."
"Hmph~"
William took two steps to the left, putting distance between himself and Big Guy.
...
On yard days, the clock seemed to be under a spell. Before William could even feel the time pass, the sun had sunk below the horizon. The Enforcers confirmed identities and took a headcount. The Dementors then made their entrance and began their meal with great impatience—they had been craving it all day.
The prisoners were led back to their respective cells. After their fine meal, the Dementors locked the heavy cell doors, leaving seven prisoners behind.
"Seven?"
"Where's The Swindler?"
Everyone began to panic. Disappearing in prison was not a good thing—it meant either a prison break or death.
The Dementor's Kiss was no legend. If someone showed concrete evidence of attempting a prison break, those things would actually kill.
And if the prison break were successful, it was a certainty that the sentences of those left behind would be extended, which was even more miserable.
"Wait, don't panic, check your things!"
After a quick search, the truth came to light.
All of their privately stashed Galleons had vanished, but things that were more valuable in prison, like chocolate, were left behind. If it were a prison break, this food, vital for replenishing energy, would definitely not have been left.
The answer was obvious—the kid had been released from prison, and he had taken a bit of starting funds with him.
(end of chapter)