Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Escape From the White Prison Cell
Escape From the White Prison Cell
6 reviewsAzkaban is the worst prison in the whole of the wizarding world. Most who have the unpleasant misfortune to go there usually don't leave... at least not in one piece. Fortunately, for Harry, Azkaba...
2Funny
Chapter One: The Voices and a Flashback
Two bright, green eyes stared up at the pale ceiling of the prison cell, taking in each detail and blemish with a swift glance. These remarkably colored eyes belonged to a man named Harry Potter, who, at that particular moment, was starting to feel the effects that extreme boredom can cause. Nothing too much of course. Merely random bouts of insanity, the occasional desire to join his lifelong enemy (if only to be away from the infernal prison), and a strange urge to ask for candy from visitors. Not that he had many.
Sighing, Harry turned over onto his stomach and closed his eyes tightly. He wanted... no, needed, something to do. This constant state of nothingness that he was in was going to make a murderer out of him. He giggled softly.
"You're already a murderer you idiot. Why else would you be here?"
"Oh, I can think of many reasons," Another voice broke in. "Perhaps Luna was correct and the rotfangs really have taken over the wizarding populace. Or maybe a Lord Voldemort has put the Imperius curse on Minister Fudge and forced him to put us into this prison. Or maybe an ugly obese woman who wears nothing but pink has a slight grudge against you and also happens to be a manipulative little shit." Both Harry's (or at least the mental representations of him) paused for a moment at the last one before discarding it.
"We both know that Umbridge isn't manipulative, although she is ugly and obese, and she probably has a slight grudge against me for that little centaur incident."
"Too true, Harry. Too true." There was a slight pause for a moment before the second voice went on. "She may not be manipulative, but she certainly does like kittens."
"Err... What?"
"You know. Kittens. Those cute fluffy things that made us feel like kicking the shit out of the little poop stain's office."
"Yeah. I know what kittens are thank you very much. But what do they have to do with her being manipulative?" Harry's second voice gave a mental equivalant of a shrug.
"I don't know. I was just pointing it out."
"And I wonder if I'm insane. I've got the whole works." Mumbled Harry out loud. The guard standing outside of his cell looked at him oddly, but refrained from asking any questions.
Ignoring the guard, Harry stood up from the queen sized bed he had been laying on and ambled over to the far side of the room which contained a desk with some parchment and a quill lying on it. Unfortunately, no ink was given (that would just be a waste of government money), so prisoners had to make due with scratching indentations into the parchment.
Sitting down in a simple, mahogany colored chair, Harry lifted up the quill and began to use the method mentioned above to add 'Kick Umbridge's super fat arse' to the increasingly long list of things that he planned to do once he got out.
Another sigh escaped him as he finished scratching it in, and he placed his head gently on the desk. All of this thinking was making him tired.
Just as he was falling asleep, Harry heard something that sounded vaguely like cannon fire, but he dismissed it as his active imagination. After all. He was insane.
As Harry entered the large courtroom which he had been in only two times before (although this number was an incredible amount for somebody so young), he looked around and took in details as quickly as he could. In the back sat somewhere around four-hundred witches and wizards, all of which were watching his every move. Somewhere in the crowd, Harry could hear the occasional mutter of things such as "Worthless half-blood." and "Always knew he would turn." Seething inwardly but keeping the same blank facade on the outside, Harry turned and observed another row of people sitting on an upraised stand in the front. The jury. Out of the twelve of them, only two where recognizable. One was Cornelius Fudge, and the other was Delores Umbridge. Harry sneered in disgust as he saw the two, and nearly vomited when he noticed that they where holding hands.
"Those two digusting lards of fat deserve each other." He muttered to himself. The guard to his left tightened his grip on Harry's arm, but continued leading him over to the chair which was positioned in the center of the room facing the panel. The moment Harry sat down, shackles snaked across his arms and legs, binding him until the moment the verdict was decided. Sighing, Harry would have resigned himself to fate if he had believed in it, but fate was a childish notion and childish things would not be tolerated by him. Damn. He was starting to sound like an uppity pure-blood.
After a lengthy procedure that seemed to involve every member of the jury kissing Fudge's ass (a mental image that Harry really didn't need), the trial began.
"Harry James Potter, you are formally convicted of the torture and murder of three muggles and one witch by the names of, in order: Vernon, Dudley, and Petunia Dursley, and Ginevra Weasley." At the last name, a loud snort and a mutter of "bitch was asking for it" could be heard by anyone sitting within a thirty foot vicinity. Everybody looked around for the source of flippant remark, but whoever it was couldn't be located, so they turned back to watch the show with looks of anger, or in some cases, outrage.
"Each body was found in a state of..." Here Fudge paused slightly to let a look of no doubt contrived pity to show on his face. "severe dismemberment, mutilation, and contusion." Looks of horror and disgust could be seen on most, if not all, of the faces within the room, save a slightly air-headed looking blonde with onion earrings sitting next to the Weasleys. Harry winked at her which had the effect of causing her to blush slightly and smile brightly.
"Would the first witness please take place on the stand?" Ron Weasley stood (or more accurately jumped) up and promptly fell over on his face, causing several muffled laughs from the crowd and a hysterical laugh from Harry. Blushing in embarrassment, he stumbled clumsily over to the stairs. Once he was seated, the judge began his questioning.
"Please state your name and age."
"Ronald Weasley. Fifteen years of age." His ears were flaming slightly in embarrassment, but he had a determined look on his face.
"Ronald Weasley. Will you submit yourself to veritiserum in order to verify that all you are about to testify is in no way false? This is not required, but if you do your evidence will be contributed as fact." Ron began to nod and open his mouth, but was interrupted by the frantic shaking of heads by his family and the members of the order. Looking abashed, he responded.
"Erm, sorry, but no." The judge looked rather disappointed but nodded anyway and continued.
"On the twenty-sixth of December at approximately one AM in the morning, what where you doing and where were you?" Ron scrunched up his face in concentration (something which Harry openly sneered at), and answered hesitatingly.
"I was... in my bedroom looking at..." Here he paused and looked embarrased. "a Chudley Cannons magazine." Harry snickered at the obvious lie. "When I finished, I was thirsty so I walked downstairs to grab a glass of water."
"More like some lube to wank with." Said Harry, earning him a silencing spell from one of the aurors.
"After I had gotten it, I was walking back towards the stairs when I heard a thumping noise coming from the room across from the kitchen." Here, Harry could be seen talking about something, and only those who were able to lip read knew that he was talking about how Ron had hoped his parents were having sex so that he could watch secretly. "I decided to check it out and so I opened the door and saw..." He gulped and took a deep breath before continuing. "a lot of blood and body parts and... Ginny's head sitting on the couch." He took another shaky breath and looked sickly, but managed to pull himself together.
"And what did you do then?"
"I vomited," Here Harry could be seen laughing his head off, although no noise escaped the silencing charm that had been placed on him. "and then I screamed for help."
Fudge looked absolutely gleeful, although one could tell he was trying to cover it up.
"That will be all Mr. Weasley. You may return to your seat." Ron walked shakily back over to his family, where he received many pats on the back and teary smiles.
Two bright, green eyes stared up at the pale ceiling of the prison cell, taking in each detail and blemish with a swift glance. These remarkably colored eyes belonged to a man named Harry Potter, who, at that particular moment, was starting to feel the effects that extreme boredom can cause. Nothing too much of course. Merely random bouts of insanity, the occasional desire to join his lifelong enemy (if only to be away from the infernal prison), and a strange urge to ask for candy from visitors. Not that he had many.
Sighing, Harry turned over onto his stomach and closed his eyes tightly. He wanted... no, needed, something to do. This constant state of nothingness that he was in was going to make a murderer out of him. He giggled softly.
"You're already a murderer you idiot. Why else would you be here?"
"Oh, I can think of many reasons," Another voice broke in. "Perhaps Luna was correct and the rotfangs really have taken over the wizarding populace. Or maybe a Lord Voldemort has put the Imperius curse on Minister Fudge and forced him to put us into this prison. Or maybe an ugly obese woman who wears nothing but pink has a slight grudge against you and also happens to be a manipulative little shit." Both Harry's (or at least the mental representations of him) paused for a moment at the last one before discarding it.
"We both know that Umbridge isn't manipulative, although she is ugly and obese, and she probably has a slight grudge against me for that little centaur incident."
"Too true, Harry. Too true." There was a slight pause for a moment before the second voice went on. "She may not be manipulative, but she certainly does like kittens."
"Err... What?"
"You know. Kittens. Those cute fluffy things that made us feel like kicking the shit out of the little poop stain's office."
"Yeah. I know what kittens are thank you very much. But what do they have to do with her being manipulative?" Harry's second voice gave a mental equivalant of a shrug.
"I don't know. I was just pointing it out."
"And I wonder if I'm insane. I've got the whole works." Mumbled Harry out loud. The guard standing outside of his cell looked at him oddly, but refrained from asking any questions.
Ignoring the guard, Harry stood up from the queen sized bed he had been laying on and ambled over to the far side of the room which contained a desk with some parchment and a quill lying on it. Unfortunately, no ink was given (that would just be a waste of government money), so prisoners had to make due with scratching indentations into the parchment.
Sitting down in a simple, mahogany colored chair, Harry lifted up the quill and began to use the method mentioned above to add 'Kick Umbridge's super fat arse' to the increasingly long list of things that he planned to do once he got out.
Another sigh escaped him as he finished scratching it in, and he placed his head gently on the desk. All of this thinking was making him tired.
Just as he was falling asleep, Harry heard something that sounded vaguely like cannon fire, but he dismissed it as his active imagination. After all. He was insane.
As Harry entered the large courtroom which he had been in only two times before (although this number was an incredible amount for somebody so young), he looked around and took in details as quickly as he could. In the back sat somewhere around four-hundred witches and wizards, all of which were watching his every move. Somewhere in the crowd, Harry could hear the occasional mutter of things such as "Worthless half-blood." and "Always knew he would turn." Seething inwardly but keeping the same blank facade on the outside, Harry turned and observed another row of people sitting on an upraised stand in the front. The jury. Out of the twelve of them, only two where recognizable. One was Cornelius Fudge, and the other was Delores Umbridge. Harry sneered in disgust as he saw the two, and nearly vomited when he noticed that they where holding hands.
"Those two digusting lards of fat deserve each other." He muttered to himself. The guard to his left tightened his grip on Harry's arm, but continued leading him over to the chair which was positioned in the center of the room facing the panel. The moment Harry sat down, shackles snaked across his arms and legs, binding him until the moment the verdict was decided. Sighing, Harry would have resigned himself to fate if he had believed in it, but fate was a childish notion and childish things would not be tolerated by him. Damn. He was starting to sound like an uppity pure-blood.
After a lengthy procedure that seemed to involve every member of the jury kissing Fudge's ass (a mental image that Harry really didn't need), the trial began.
"Harry James Potter, you are formally convicted of the torture and murder of three muggles and one witch by the names of, in order: Vernon, Dudley, and Petunia Dursley, and Ginevra Weasley." At the last name, a loud snort and a mutter of "bitch was asking for it" could be heard by anyone sitting within a thirty foot vicinity. Everybody looked around for the source of flippant remark, but whoever it was couldn't be located, so they turned back to watch the show with looks of anger, or in some cases, outrage.
"Each body was found in a state of..." Here Fudge paused slightly to let a look of no doubt contrived pity to show on his face. "severe dismemberment, mutilation, and contusion." Looks of horror and disgust could be seen on most, if not all, of the faces within the room, save a slightly air-headed looking blonde with onion earrings sitting next to the Weasleys. Harry winked at her which had the effect of causing her to blush slightly and smile brightly.
"Would the first witness please take place on the stand?" Ron Weasley stood (or more accurately jumped) up and promptly fell over on his face, causing several muffled laughs from the crowd and a hysterical laugh from Harry. Blushing in embarrassment, he stumbled clumsily over to the stairs. Once he was seated, the judge began his questioning.
"Please state your name and age."
"Ronald Weasley. Fifteen years of age." His ears were flaming slightly in embarrassment, but he had a determined look on his face.
"Ronald Weasley. Will you submit yourself to veritiserum in order to verify that all you are about to testify is in no way false? This is not required, but if you do your evidence will be contributed as fact." Ron began to nod and open his mouth, but was interrupted by the frantic shaking of heads by his family and the members of the order. Looking abashed, he responded.
"Erm, sorry, but no." The judge looked rather disappointed but nodded anyway and continued.
"On the twenty-sixth of December at approximately one AM in the morning, what where you doing and where were you?" Ron scrunched up his face in concentration (something which Harry openly sneered at), and answered hesitatingly.
"I was... in my bedroom looking at..." Here he paused and looked embarrased. "a Chudley Cannons magazine." Harry snickered at the obvious lie. "When I finished, I was thirsty so I walked downstairs to grab a glass of water."
"More like some lube to wank with." Said Harry, earning him a silencing spell from one of the aurors.
"After I had gotten it, I was walking back towards the stairs when I heard a thumping noise coming from the room across from the kitchen." Here, Harry could be seen talking about something, and only those who were able to lip read knew that he was talking about how Ron had hoped his parents were having sex so that he could watch secretly. "I decided to check it out and so I opened the door and saw..." He gulped and took a deep breath before continuing. "a lot of blood and body parts and... Ginny's head sitting on the couch." He took another shaky breath and looked sickly, but managed to pull himself together.
"And what did you do then?"
"I vomited," Here Harry could be seen laughing his head off, although no noise escaped the silencing charm that had been placed on him. "and then I screamed for help."
Fudge looked absolutely gleeful, although one could tell he was trying to cover it up.
"That will be all Mr. Weasley. You may return to your seat." Ron walked shakily back over to his family, where he received many pats on the back and teary smiles.
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