Fill the Void of Silence

The days were starting to muddle together now. She’d gotten into the habit of only waking up for food. Between whatever scrapings she received through the bars she was in this half-slumber that left her more fatigued than before. It was beginning to irk Jenifer Dent. She was up to her eyebrows in shit that had been building up for years. She was past even thinking she could handle it. Now, she was just angry. She wanted someone to blame. She needed someone to blame for how shitty her life had turned out. She could hardly blame herself because, in her mind, it seemed irrational. She wouldn’t ruin her own life for goodness sake so it had to be someone’s fault. Naturally it was Rob; he’d been a thorn in her side from day one.

Exhaling slowly, Jen pulled herself out of bed and stood up, tripping over a piece of the ratty prison trousers. She slapped down against the stone floor and she rested her cheek against it. What on earth had happened to her? Rob, again. Jen contemplated whether she should just lay there and die. Of course, that couldn’t happen. The dear old Minister wouldn’t allow that because the Dementors needed to have their fun first. Jen closed her eyes and exhaled shakily before pulling herself up, using the bars of the cell as supports. Jen fell against the bars and looked out. She glanced down the hall where the musicians were – sent in for mass murder. They still had their instruments which meant they were constantly playing music befitting of a prison in a film.

Further down there were Siamese twins who stared at a wall which had been drenched in blood for goodness knows how long. Jen didn’t care; Dementorless or not the place was still a joint where they locked up loonies. She was the exception although when Rob arrived he’d fit in well enough. Jen tapped the bars with her fingers before pulling away. She’d not been eating as much as she should have, although really there wasn’t much on offer and as a result the uniform hung off of her frame as if she were a coat hanger. It was sickening but the woman didn’t appear to care. She’d go crazy in that cell – just like Bellatrix Lestrange.

Jen scowled and collapsed back onto the threadbare mattress in the corner. Time to sleep. Jen pulled the ratty old blanket over her head and tried to sleep but was unsuccessful. The Dementors drifted into the cell and Jen sighed. “Piss off you f*cking bed sheets!” she half yelled, half muttered from underneath the blanket. She wasn’t in the mood for them to day. What did they want to harass her for anyway? It wasn’t as if she had any happy thoughts to dwell on. Jen sighed, something that seemed to fill the void of silence, and dropped her head onto her forearms, determined to get some real rest. But with the Dementors hanging around, they would just bring nightmares.

Robert had listened to Khaat's relentless hounding about going to see Rob and Jen for days now. He had tried, endlessly, to dissuade her, but she got her stubbornness honestly enough from the Lupin genes. He was going to have to give in and take her.

He had discussed it repeatedly with Brian, now her chief bodyguard, and Brian would not be left behind. Robert left the rest of the safehouse heavily guarded because of Abbey's being there, and agreed to take Khaat. Little did she know, though, he had plans. She could visit Jen. Jen probably needed it more than the bastard Khaat married. Robert understood why Jen had shot Rob. Hell, right now, he'd like to have finished the job for Jen. He was becoming like Khaat, at least when it came to Jen. His heart had softened, and he wanted to help. Khaat did too. But Rob, Robert was in no mood for him to get the same saving grace. Probably not until he was too insane to be held at Azkaban and would have to be transferred to St. Mungos. That, unfortunately, still remained Khaat's perview as Chief Warlock. But for today, he did not have to allow her to recognize the man she married. He placed a dose of a tasteless, odorless fogging potion in her morning French Roast and just waited for it to do its work.

Khaat had had a hard time even finding clothes that fit. Skeeter had been right. She was a freaking skeleton. She hated how she looked in the mirror. She finally chose a very elegant looking red slik dress, hoping it would add some color to her face, and ended up asking Brian to magically alter it for her. Her magic had still not returned from Ne'Os. She had had Emmy fix her hair and use just a touch of a glamour spell on her to take the look of impending death away from her face. She knew better than to overdo a glamour spell. It would only make her look ridiculous. She had wanted to wear her favorite stilettos, but her father had made her choose a lower heel because of how quickly she weakened yet on her feet. He had told her he did not relish the idea of either him or Brian most likely having to carry her out when she exhausted herself.

She desperately wanted to see both Jen and Rob. Her heart had softened regarding both of them. And she had used her clout as Chief Warlock to gain access and permission to bring them photos of Abbey and a decent take out box from Sparks with decent food instead of swill. She was careful to make Rob's vegetarian--a really good vegetarian stir fry with all sorts of fresh, vibrantly colored vegetables--all his favorites. And she had had Lizzie make Jen's favorite. Khaat wasnt' sure what that was, but Lizzie seemed to know immediately what Jen always ordered, so it was no effort for Lizzie to fix it. Khaat knew well that the food in Azkaban was intentionally despicable, and she did not want it to further their depression, which was always present when one was stuck in that hellhole. It had been a lot of asking of special favors, using her position. It wasn't usually granted, but she had more or less twisted the arm of the warden. The man always had a soft spot for pretty blondes, and that worked in her favor as well.

She arrived at Azkaban on that dark stormy morning, with her long full black cloak totally covering her, its hood pulled up, carrying her usual oversized black leather bag, which the warden inspected himself. Robert and Brian were on either side of her, wearing their black cloaks as well, and the warden took it upon himself to "escort" them to Jen's cell. Khaat knew it was because the man simply had nothing better to do. She was ignoring any attraction the man might have had towards her. It didn't suit her to reciprocate his attraction but merely to be nice to him so she could ask for more favors later.

When she got to Jen's cell, though, she dismissed the warden, but not before asking him to unlock her cell door to let Khaat in. He let her in, stationed a guard within earshot, and he left, albeit a bit reluctantly. She lowered the hood on her cloak and called softly, "Jen?"

“You will be here for a long while, Mistress Dent. There is no use being difficult. Black was the same way but he escaped these walls. You, however, will not.” Jen heard the voice of one of the ancient Wizards that had been in the cells since the eighties. It was almost like that Muggle movie with the ship. You didn’t die; you just became part of the prison – there for eternity to harass the new additions to the tower. There was a rumour that Anne Boleyn was also in the tower but Jen had yet to come across the woman who had been beheaded so long ago. Decapitation sounded much more fitting to Jen than just rotting away in a cell and becoming part of it like everyone else there. At least the Boleyn’s presence would be pleasing to a degree; the man in her cell had been driving her nuts. Although, the last thing she needed was a bitter Muggleborn that had been accused of witchcraft by God-fearing idiots in the 1500’s. It was probably all fabricated though and the woman was probably a Squib or something equally degrading if being a Mudblood wasn’t degrading enough.

Jen lifted her head and looked pointedly at the translucent ghost hovering in the corner of the cell. “Thank you for that stunning observation, Percy.” She snapped at the ghost who didn’t seem moved by the irritable woman before him. Jen didn’t know why she even bothered. The ghost who had been dead since 1537 was constantly baiting her. Had he been alive and had she not been slowly rotting away in an Azkaban cell then she would have definitely been up for the witty exchanges but she probably wouldn’t have even noticed his words if not for the way they were put. He was definitely a man of poetic talent but perhaps it was wasted during his lifetime. Jen did not know but she hoped he wasn’t bitter about life like she had always been.

Jen felt the mattress groan a little and looked to see the ghost sat beside her. “I am sorry, pet.” He murmured, patting her leg. She did not feel the weight nor the warmth, just a ghostly chill. Jen closed her eyes and sighed. She opened them again and found that Henry Percy had once again disappeared like he always did when he wanted his words to sink in. Jen sighed once more and pulled her blanket over her head. She needed to sleep. Sixteenth century ghosts that were trying to teach her lessons were the last of her worries. She was waiting on Rob’s arrival. The prat would hopefully get a ghost that had been left in Azkaban to rot by her husband or something equally horrible. Maybe then he’d understand what he’d done was wrong.

The cell door creaked open and Jen did all she could to ignore it. She didn’t want anything, no food – no nothing. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? “Jen?” That voice, she remembered. Pulling the blanket back, Jen sat up and saw someone who she hadn’t expected to visit. Of course, that twat of a father Khaat had was outside like a hawk. Jen idly wondered when Khaat was going to actually stop relying on her parents but she wasn’t going to try to piss of her only visitor. No one in their right mind would come and visit her unless it was a shrink. That was probably why she’d come – to check the loonies out. Jen really was starting to wish that she’d gotten the Kiss. The Minister of course, didn’t have the stomach for that one. Jen narrowed her dark eyes at Khaat before exhaling. The carbon dioxide rose into the air and thinned before disappearing all together. Jen settled her gaze on Khaat before pulling her legs up to her chest. “What?” she asked, not really caring what the answer was.

Jen was becoming a shadow of what she had been--and in more than one sense of the word. She seemed to be losing part of her edge, part of her fighting spirit. And Khaat hated to see that. If Jen had shot Rob any place else but in a public place, no one would have ever known, and she wouldn't be here now. Rob might be dead--maybe--if someone hadn't found him in time--and, honestly, Khaat, as much as she loved Rob, was angry and hurt. She didn't want to see him in Azkaban, but she wasn't sure where she watned to see him right now. She noticed, though, for some reason, she couldn't picture him here. Actually, the more she thought about it, she couldn't picture him at all. What the heck had he even looked like, anyway? And why couldn't she remember? It didn't seem right that she could not remember him. That did puzzle her, and it frustrated her quite a lot. She did, after all, come here to see both Jen and Rob. She shifted out of her frustration and redirected herself to Jen. Her first stop.

"I am so sorry things ended up like this. I can't blame you for shooting Rob. Actually, I can't say it hasn't entered my own mind. If I'd have had my way, we'd have ignored it. But that control wasn't given to me. There are a hell of a lot of things that happen in this world that people choose to turn a blind eye to, and I'm sorry they just couldn't do that in this case," Khaat said. "When I can help you I will. I promise."

"I brought you something," she said quietly. She drew out her pictures of Abbey. She handed them to her. "I thought you might like to have pictures of your goddaughter--if you'll be her godmother. You did what you did because you had the guts to do what we all were thinking and wanted to do but couldnt. That means something to me. I'd like you to, please consider it."

"Oh, and there is something else." She drew the takeout container and handed it to her. "For you. The very least I can do is make sure you get a decent meal." She handed her a bottle of Jen's favorite soft drink along with it, and silverware.

Jen picked at the threadbare blanket, not sure what she was supposed to say to the woman who had been part of her undoing. Perhaps that was a bit too harsh but Khaat hadn’t been entirely innocent either. She’d just been a naive child that had fallen for Rob’s charms like so many other females had in the past. Although granted this was the only one Rob had gotten pregnant. Jen had tried to reassure herself that he was finally settling down but this....this proved she’d been so wrong. This was her mistake, the last mistake she’d ever make. She’d die in the cell she was sitting in now without ever knowing the pleasures of another human being again.

Gathering her legs up, Jen hugged them to her chest and fought to keep herself together. She didn’t need the emotional blackmail nor the venomous glares from Khaat’s bodyguards outside. If they didn’t want to be there then they could piss off, end of story. The Dementors were still hanging around, as was Henry. No doubt he was arguing with them for giving her a hard time or something. As you do when you’re dead; argue with things that suck souls out for food. But he’d say with that child-like, dimpled grin that he had nothing left to lose and then disappear through a wall or a floor which gave Jen the impression she was on the high-security level.

She rested her head on her knees and only looked up when Khaat began to ramble on about herself and how she ‘thought about shooting her own husband’. Jen snorted quietly. She doubted that the woman was being truthful. Khaat would gladly lap up all of the bullshit he fed her if she got the chance. Obviously daddy wasn’t going to let her do that anymore. Jen knew she was just being bitter but it wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows in Azkaban. She was however, teasing the magic restraints they’d put on her before she’d been admitted. She was more muggle than a Mudblood and she hated it. No doubt Rob felt the same way but he was probably chatting up some mass-murderer or something else that was equally likely.

Jen blinked rapidly at Khaat. She quickly snapped her eyes shut. Her eyes physically ached. The sun they let into the cells was unwelcomed when it appeared. She was far too used to the darkness and she hadn’t even been in there long. Perhaps it was because it related to her life – maybe it was because she was just used to being bathed in the abyss. Clearly it was nothing new and even if she did get out – light wouldn’t be something she wanted to contend with for a while. But then, the guards would probably chuck her outside when the sun was blazing just to see her in pain. The freaking sadists.

“Are you off your nut?” Jen managed to choke out. She looked down at the pictures at the baby which wasn’t anything particularly special – just a baby who looked awfully like Rob. It was quite unnerving and Jen turned them over, putting them down on the floor, picking a slab that wasn’t soaking wet with the drainage system that seemed to run through the west side of her cell near the bed. “Me? He’s got you doped up on potions and stupid effing charms he thinks helps hasn’t he?” Jen asked, looking pointedly at Robert who was stood outside the cell. She muttered “Tosser,” under her breath and picked at a scab on her wrist which curved around the joint there.

Jen took the slightly weighty box in her hand and put it on her lap. The bones beneath the trousers that swamped her frame complained a little and Jen hastily moved it to the mattress to alleviate some of the pressure. She opened the box up and stared at the Sweet and Sour inside with spring rolls and other things no doubt beneath it as she could see a bit of sesame seed toasts poking through the sauce. A pair of chopsticks sat innocently atop a piece of meat and Jen glanced up at Khaat. She closed the box and pushed it away.

Her stomach didn’t really like the thought of her rejecting the food but she knew, Chinese or not, that it would regret taking it later when she brought it all back after the Dementors had their fun. That was why she’d stopped eating. It screwed with her and the Dementors loved making things worse when she’d eating something. With an empty stomach, she could take their onslaught. The memories made her feel sick and as a result she was. She idly turned the small bottle of Lipton Iced Tea over in her hands and she bit her lip. She laid the bottle down next to the food and swallowed. “Thank you Khaat.” She said awkwardly. “Perhaps you should take it back though. ‘t would only be wasted.”

Potions? She hadn't been taking any potions. But yet, that remark had stuck with her. For some reason, she really, honestly could not remember what Rob looked like. And if anybody could recognize someone doped up on a potion was Jen or Rob. They could see it miles away.

"I dont really think I'm on any sort of potion, Jen," Khaat said, not sure of her own words. "But the offer is genuine. I've had it with Rob. He didn't even have any sort of decency to be honest with me, and he broke every damned promise he ever made me, and believe me he made an enormous list. Never filled one of them. I'm not sure why you think it would be so hard for me to be angry with him now. I have wanted to finish the job you started, but I wasn't given that option. Now--well, we're legally separated. We're still married, but I'm not sure why. Nevertheless, I do want you to be Abbey's godmother. And I will work to get you out of here. I will do my best.

"As for the food,...." she began and became annoyed with a dementor who was floating in the room to apparently have a go at Jen again. "Daddy, get that cloud out of here!' She was angry at its presence. Any other time, she could have used her own patronus, but she didn't have it at the moment. Emof had all her magic. She was as powerless as any muggle. Robert raised his wand and easily shot out an enormous patronus that chased the dementors away in the whole cell block, it seemed. "Thank you," she said.

"Forgot my..wand," she lied to Jen. Jen didn't need to be bothered with her difficulties w/ Emof. "Anyway, as for the food, take it. You need it. I'll make sure you get more. Every day if I can. I'll try to arrange it. And I'll try to get the warden to reduce those stinking dementors. They're just a pain in the ass. But do think about my offer."

Obviously Khaat was naive and delirious because any idiot would know not to tell a potions expert that they’re not on a potion when it was clear that they were. There was always a specific way that they held themselves and Jen could tell part of Khaat wasn’t all there. It wasn’t Jen’s problem though although she’d have loved to be there when whatever it is that twat had her on, wore off. Jen was really starting to remember why she hated Robert so much. Khaat was his little puppet that he liked to play around with and she trusted him so she ignored it. It was completely foreign to Jen. She didn’t know how they could put so much blind trust in each other like that. If you wanted to stay alive you trusted no one -- that was the bottom line.

She snorted. “Yah, and I’m not sitting in a cell in Azkaban rotting away from the toes up. Forgive me, Khaat but you’re talking to someone who knows their potions. If you want a real diagnosis then go see that twat you married. I’m sure he’ll be able to tell you when, where, how and what you ingested.” She said bitterly. She was sick of hearing about everyone else’s plight and how Khaat supposedly empathised with Jen’s position. It frustrated the woman to no end and it felt almost demeaning to be in the position she was in. “Look, I don’t care if you’re legally separated from him or whatever because frankly, I don’t want anything to do with him and I don’t want to hear about your problems because in case you haven’t noticed – I’m in Azkaban. You’ll get over Rob. Dear old Dad and his team of twats will see to that and you’ll be married off to one of his friends or whatever he wants you to do. I’m never leaving this cell for two reasons – 1. I don’t want to leave and 2. Matt wouldn’t let me leave even if I wanted to!”

It hurt to think about how she’d let him down. Matt was probably the only one whose opinion mattered. Jen had now successfully landed herself in Azkaban and there was nothing she could do about it. Sure she’d try and get out but she wouldn’t get further than the water before they dragged her back in or the Dementors got her. It wasn’t even worth trying. She would be fine with Henry and the Dementors as her source of comfort. It wasn’t as if they had much left to feed on now anyway. She couldn’t even find a reason to smile anymore. But that still didn’t change the fact that she’d acted and nearly killed her brother in cold blood. Obviously Rob was a more valuable member of society than she was but she had heard he’d been caught as well. He wouldn’t have been much of a loss if he’d have died anyway.

Jen watched as the Patronus scared the Dementor away and she pouted a little. Even if they did give her grief their presence wasn’t entirely unwelcomed. She raised an eyebrow when Khaat clearly lied and Jen shrugged. “So did I.” She said blandly before pulling a face. “I’ll survive. I don’t need it and the Dementors have nowhere else to go. My companion keeps them away... I’ll be fine.”

"Have it your way, then," Khaat sighed. She had the guard let her out of Jen's cell. "When you get done feeling sorry for yourself, let the warden know. He'll contact me, and I'll help you. But as long as you're enjoying it, who the hell am I to interfere?" The cell door clanged shut now with Khaat on the outside.

She now looked at her father who had a, typically, stone faced look. She looked at Brian, who had deliberately not lowered his cloak hood. He looked at her and seemed to have a slight frown on his face. Jen was right. Khaat was furious. Her father had used a potion of some sort on her for some reason without her permission. She reached out one of her skeletally thin arms and clutched him by the collar of his cloak "What the hell did you do?" she demanded, shaking him. She'd never been angry enough to shake him before, or to try to be physical against him, and he had not expected it obviously.

"Contain yourself," he ordered quietly but firmly, releasing her hand, bending it so hard, she heard cracking noises that were painful. She wasn't sure he had not broken her fingers or her hand bones, one or the other. She would refuse to ask him to heal that. He did it on purpose. She turned to Brian, "What did he do? Tell me?" She looked at Brian who was now angry with Robert, not only for slipping her a potion of some sort, but now for deliberately hurting her as well.

"Reverse it this instant!" she demanded her father.

"Do it yourself," he said simply.

"Bastard!" she said. "You bastard. You knew why I came here. Why did you do this? And why won't you reverse it?"

"I choose not to," he said effortlessly.

"I ought to kill you."

"I'd like to see you try," he said, completely unmoved. "With what, pray tell?"

"My bare hands. And don't think I can't"

"Go ahead. See what it gets you," he offered completely unmoved.

“Alright hot-stuff, you can go down to your cell now.”
The Physical Examiner smiled slyly and pulled her latex gloves off, the same ones that had been teasing parts of his body for the last hour and a half. She had been thorough, definitely, and Rob was eager to know when he’d see the woman again. She definitely liked her job; anyone would if they had him on their table waiting for the exam to take place. One really couldn’t complain. Plus, it was good fun for Rob too. It had been far too wrong and no part of his body could complain if a woman as attractive as she was inspecting his overall health. Some far more intimate parts of his body had gone far, far too long without a woman’s touch and the feelings of ecstasy were still rolling over Rob.

He pulled the thin cotton Azkaban shirt over his head and shook his hair out. The Physical Examiner tucked her gloves into the pocket of her lab coat and Rob smirked to himself. “When do I see you again then, love?” He asked, ignoring the glares that the guards were sending him. She pursed her crimson lips and walked over to him, her heels clicking against the stone floor. She ran a hand across his chest and reached up to murmur in his ear, “Soon, babe. You can wait a year can’t you?” she purred. “I’ll make sure it’s all worth it...” Rob nodded hastily and she smiled before murmuring “Good.” Rob winked at her, his blue eyes sparkling and he was dragged out by the guard who had probably had, had enough of the display.

Shackles were clasped around his wrists and Rob raised his eyebrows at the guards. They shrugged and he began to walk along the corridor with them either side of him. “So... did Matt give me a nice cell?” he asked pleasantly, looking up at the men who were quite a bit taller than him. They looked down at Rob and sneered before the one on Rob’s right picked up the ball on the end of the chain and threw it along the hallway. Rob was dragged along with it but he managed to keep his footing and stopped himself any real harm. He doubted they wanted that either as he’d go back to that healer. One display of that including him in the fold was probably enough to last them a lifetime. “It’s Minister Lestrange to you, scum.” The burlier guard said irately. Rob merely shrugged in response.

Rob was only guessing but he figured they were leading him up to the high security part of the tower. He could easily get out so they were taking precautions; Diane seemed to like his Animagus form though. Rob would definitely be counting down the days until his next phys-exam. He heard raised voices as they neared. Rob raised an eyebrow at the guards and they pulled him along the corridor. They turned a corner and Rob saw Jen sitting in her cell with his soon to, hopefully, be his ex-wife and ex-father-in-law; both of whom were arguing. Rob knew about the money in his vaults or lack thereof and he was pissed with Robert. He wanted his money back, even if he wouldn’t be using it. The asshole had no right to steal from him. In the back of his mind, Rob knew that the almighty Robert Lupin had already made Abbey a Lupin which stamped Rob out from her life. He wasn’t one to give his money away, let alone to a random child that may or may not have shared his DNA...

“Why, hello thieves.” He said pleasantly, his voice laced with an undercurrent of malice. “Come to return my money to me have you, Robert? That would be much preferred because you do know that stealing is a crime in both Muggle and Wizarding cultures don’t you? I’m not dead and I don’t actually remember writing a will that says that I give all of my money to a random child that doesn’t even hold my surname.” He spat viciously. “I don’t think they need it do you? I’m sure you’ll keep your little ‘angel’ alive without my money.”

His tone was mocking and he was being crueller than he’d ever remembered himself being but he was frustrated and angry and he wanted someone to blame. Robert seemed convenient because not only was Khaat stupidly reliant on him but it was just the way the man held himself that irked Rob. He spoke and looked at people as if they were dirt on his shoes. Either that or it was just him and Robert hated him as much as he did him. Rob didn’t want anyone having his money without his say so and that was the end of it. He’d tried to tie it up, he’d tried to at least give it to Amika but by then the bastard had already sunk his claws in. Rob leaned lazily against the guard who looked disgusted and raised an eyebrow at Robert. “I want it back.” He said firmly. “Now.”