Azkaban was a prison. No matter what terrifying titles the outside world gave it or what bizarre legends they spun, it remained a prison.
Even if the spineless soul William had possessed died of fright upon hearing his sentencing to Azkaban, that didn't an the inmates here were living worse than death every day. If that were truly the case, this place would have been shut down long ago.
This was the only prison in Britain's wizarding world. Regardless of gender, sentence length, or severity of the cri, every convicted wizard ended up in Azkaban. Without proper classification of prisoners, throwing everyone together would lead to chaos; and deaths, both literal and taphorical.
Inmates like William, who were serving lighter sentences, were placed in shared cells. The patrolling Dentors didn't linger all day but rely showed up once daily under the guise of inspections to feed. Outside those tis, they stayed away; partly to reduce complaints from released prisoners and partly to allow the inmates to generate new happy mories.
Among these lesser offenders, there was still a faint semblance of social interaction.
Food, alcohol, newspapers, and other contraband smuggled in by various ans circulated among them, forming a rudintary trading system.
"Nine pieces of chocolate for seven pages of a new stash from Flourish and Blotts' owner!"
"Five pieces! No nonsense this ti. Last batch was bloody fairy tales!"
Deals like these were swiftly made among the gathered prisoners, while the temporary guards turned a blind eye. For them, this wasn't hard work; in fact, they often pocketed a fair share of Galleons.
This was the monthly outdoor ti, the island's busiest day for trade.
The Dentors didn't participate. Unless absolutely necessary, they preferred not to restrain their ability to absorb happiness, leaving the task to Ministry-appointed guards.
On this day, inmates were gathered to have their hair trimd, drink potions to fend off common prison diseases, and undergo a thorough magical cleansing; none of which could be done in the presence of Dentors.
At that mont, William found himself being relentlessly persuaded by the giant inmate in his cell. The man, standing nearly 2 ters tall, had taken on a role similar to that of a middleman. Whenever bartering parties couldn't agree on prices, he was called in to diate and close the deal, taking a piece of candy or a cigarette as his cut.
Before landing in Azkaban, he had been in a similar line of work. During a raid on the black market, his towering figure made him an easy target, and he hadn't managed to escape. A 2-year sentence wasn't too harsh.
Now, he was babbling on, trying to convince William to start a book club. Not to sell books, but to gather a group of inmates for a half-hour storytelling session. He'd handle recruitnt, collect fees, and keep watch, splitting the profits 60-40; William would get 60 percent.
With today's influx of smuggled goods, they might even make a tidy profit.
"Listen, William boy, this is a legitimate business. Out there, pulling off sothing like this wouldn't even earn you pocket change, and here you've got guards keeping an eye out. Where else would you get a deal like that?"
Legitimate business? Do you even believe that yourself?
William ignored him.
It wasn't the first ti the big guy had tried to persuade him, and he'd heard all the argunts by now. The man just wouldn't give up. Fine, let him talk. William had no intention of cultivating a fan base in prison. Telling stories here was rely a way to gain so privileges. His sentence wasn't long. What was he going to do? Save up Galleons from prison storytelling as extra inco?
The inmates weren't going to shell out much for a story. This was a mixed prison. If it were an all-male prison, he'd barely have ti to sar mud on his face, let alone tell stories to earn favors.
He tolerated the big guy's rambling mainly to mask his identity. When William had arrived, he was being shipped to Azkaban along with his smuggling crew. The original owner had received the lightest sentence but had died of fright on the spot. Several of his teammates were still doing ti in Azkaban.
Those guys had terrible luck. They thought they'd paid off enough bribes, but the Ministry of Magic had just undergone a leadership change. The newly appointed Minister, Fudge, wanted to fulfill his campaign promise to crack down on smuggling. When the enforcers showed up, they thought it was a rival gang, and everyone except William, who was too cowardly to fight back, got hit with additional charges. The lightest sentence among them was still 10 years.
When they saw William, they couldn't even recognize him. Long-term exposure to Dentors had stripped them of most of their self-care abilities, leaving them to chanically follow the prisoner queue.
William felt a mix of relief and sadness. A shared fate of misfortune; if the original owner hadn't been such a coward, his situation wouldn't have been much better.
The big guy slung an arm around William's shoulder and guided him to the other side. "Alright, William, stop looking. They won't rember you. Heavy offenders rarely stay conscious. Those black-robed things would chew us down to the bone if they could. Just focus on surviving."
He sighed before adding, "Actually, they have it better. They drift through their sentences in a daze. We're the ones truly suffering. It's bad enough they visit every day; but they don't even pay for the privilege."
He exaggerated a shrug, making William chuckle despite himself.
"Alright, alright. We get it. You're popular. But I didn't expect even the Dentors to like you. Next ti, try facing away from the door. Maybe they won't even co in."
"Yeah, right. But if you agree to start that book club, I'll give you 40 percent, and I'll take 60."
"Ew, no--"
William took two steps to the left, widening the gap between them.
***
On outdoor days, ti seed enchanted.
Before William could fully register its passage, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. The enforcers double-checked identities and headcounts, and the Dentors arrived, eager for their al; they'd been craving it all day.
The prisoners were herded back to their cells. After a hearty feast, the Dentors secured the heavy cell doors, leaving behind seven inmates.
"Seven?"
"Where's the conman?"
Panic set in. A prisoner going missing was never good news—either an escape or death.
The Dentor's Kiss wasn't just a myth. If soone attempted escape, those creatures wouldn't hesitate to kill.
If it was a successful breakout, the remaining inmates would inevitably face extended sentences. That was even worse.
"Wait, calm down. Search the place!"
A quick search revealed the truth.
All their stashed Galleons were gone, but their chocolates and other valuable foods remained untouched. If it were an escape, those energy-boosting supplies wouldn't have been left behind.
The answer was clear; the guy had been released and took a small fortune with him.
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