the inventor ➝ fantastic beasts

THREE - THE PRAYER

That blonde girl from yesterday left whilst I was speaking with Graves. Lucky thing. She was probably playing jazz too loud, or got into a friendly, drunken half-duel in the street, or something that was too inconvenient to others as she was enjoying herself. She didn't deserve to be arrested. Honestly, the wrong people get locked up these days. 

Including me. 

I've come to accept it now, but on my first month, I was not a pretty sight. I put every ounce of my being into defying against my sentence. I hadn't like the fact that I was going to be put in a hospital back then, and I did everything I could to make them think twice. Constantly screaming at everyone who passed who I swore looked at me funny, throwing myself against the bars, trying to escape at every opportunity. 

Now, I've come to terms with everything. There's very little point in trying to escape, to rebel. I just have to wait. 

The hair appointment I made Graves schedule for me to get a few rows of braids redone two months ago was nice, and I have another just after I leave MACUSA. At least I have that to look forward to. 

But still, I have to find ways to entertain myself.

So, I keep my gaze fixed on the young man in the cell right next to mine, within reaching distance. Usually, MACUSA try and avoid this, but the man who put him in there was new. He probably hadn't been warned about me. A honest mistake - but one that turns out to benefit me.

He tries not to notice at first. But that such an activity grows harder as I get up and slowly stalk along the edge of the bars, my face blank of emotion. I keep all my attention fixed on him, and tilt my head as I come to a stop. I reach up and grip the bars, leaning my forehead against them. The man glances up nervously, then immediately looks away.

"What you in for?" I ask, my voice low. He sighs, clearly knowing it would be a bad decision to ignore me, and nervously looks up. He's messing with his hands.

"Just stole something. Is all."

"Stealing ain't good, pal," I drawl, and grip the bars higher with one hand. The man gulps uncomfortably, and looks away. I don't budge, waiting. 

"It's rude to ignore people. Ask me what I'm in for."

He stutters with nerves as he starts to speak.

"Ask me what I'm in for," I repeat, loud enough to scare him but not loud enough to alert one of the Aurors or other less important people.

"W - what are you in for?" He asks, and I smile widely.

"Thank you for asking. I blew up a building." 

The man scoffs. "And you said stealing's bad," he mutters under his breath as I start to walk away. 

Just as I hoped he would. These people practically land themselves in it. 

I hurl myself against the bars with a crash, banging my head in the process, and, ignoring the pain that erupts in my forehead, lash out for him. My fingers only just graze his collar before he shoots away, flying to the other end of the cell in a flash. I push myself closer to the bars, almost fitting my shoulder through as I grab for him.

"Say that again, you bastard!" I shriek, just for effect, and before I know it wardens are flocking to the cells. The other prisoners are craning to see what's going on now, and even some of the staff pause to watch. 

One of the wardens grabs the young man and drags him to safety as quickly as possible, and three others dash into my cell, shoving me to the ground and restraining me. I do the usual kicking and struggling, but it's nothing serious. 

"Crowley, for heaven's sake, why can't you keep your mouth shut?" One warden shouts as my head is shoved to the ground. My hands are pinned behind my back, and my knees are on the floor. I'm wondering why I bothered now. It just causes a scene.

But I still justify myself to the warden. "What else am I meant to do?" I bellow at him, straining to twist my head around further so I can see him, just before he hits me with a Silencio. 

Soundlessly, I shriek foul curses at them just before they carry out the usual routine - drag me off to a small room, cast an Immobulus, and leave me there for however long to allow me to mellow. In that time, I usually think about things like, did I freak them out enough?, or, why did they have to immobilise me in such an odd position?

Eventually, they reverse the spell, bring me back out, and dump me back in my cell. I catch sight of the young man lying stiffly on his bed in a cell far away from mine, and smirk, satisfied.

That was all for fun. Nothing more. Although it's been happening less and less, I still get a kick out of it. The numbers would probably go up if I was kept in the cells a few floors down, where there would be very little in the way of wardens - like my first few months here. They had decided by the second month to keep me in the temporary holding cells on the Auror's floor, where there would always be lots of people to keep an eye on me and keep me in check.

Besides, I'll be out of here tomorrow. There won't be a steady supply of people to freak out at St. Mungos. Gotta make the most of it while I can.

*

Later, when most of the staff have packed up and left, the only people left are the night owls and night wardens, and most importantly, the room is covered in darkness, I bring my hands under my chin and fold them together as I lie on my side in the hard, chilly bed.

And, silently, I say the same prayer as I do every night. 

"I'm sorry you had to leave so soon. I love you. And I promise, if I had the chance to go back, I wouldn't let you go this time. Because it will be ready soon. I swear."