Azkaban
The days bled into one another, each indistinguishable from the last. Azkaban had always been timeless in its cruelty. The same weather, the same torch lighting day and night.
His body was a ruin.
Torn muscle from his convulsions. Skin that flaked away in patches from grinding against the rough stone floor.
And still, he clung to that one fragile miracle.
Her.
In the quiet spaces of his mind, where the world could no longer reach them, Sophia still lived.
She hummed sometimes, softly, while she skipped from one flower to the other. The same old melody she'd grown up with.
He watched her now, sitting on the porch swing of the little home he had crafted from her memory.
The wind played gently through her hair.
She tilted her head at him and smiled, the way she always had. But the smile didn't quite reach her eyes this time.
Lucas sat next to her, his mind fractured with fatigue, trembling with every second he had to keep her here. "Did you sleep well?"
"Oh yes," she said cheerily. "I dreamt of… of Yuki. She came by yesterday, didn't she?"
Lucas flinched. She'd already said that. Yesterday. And the day before.
He nodded, gently. "She did, mum. She sat on the swing with you, remember?"
"Of course," Sophia said, smiling again. "Of course she did."
She turned her face toward the sky, still smiling, but her eyes were vacant for a moment, searching a place she could no longer quite reach.
A tremor ran through Lucas's real body, as agony lanced down his spine, caused by the curses, meant for her.
He screamed into the stone, muffled by bloodied lips. No one in Azkaban paid the sound any mind. Screaming was simply part of the chorus here.
But within, his grip never faltered.
He would not let go of her.
Not now. Not ever.
Even as her sentences grew a little more fragmented.
Even as she forgot the names of the birds she once knew.
Even as she began to ask who "the boy" was, the boy who sat beside her each day and brought her tea and guarded her sleep.
"I... I'm sorry," she whispered once, confusion clouding her voice. "I can't remember the name of the mountain. The one… by the hotspring. The one Yuki used to draw…"
"It's okay," Lucas whispered. "It's alright. You don't have to remember."
She smiled again. "You're so kind. Just like my son."
Lucas's throat clenched.
He smiled back.
"I'm sure he loves you very much."
She reached for his hand.
He took it.
Outside, in the wet dark of Azkaban, Lucas writhed, twitching violently on the stone once more.
Inside he kept a garden blooming, and a mountain rising in the distance.
----
The sun filtered through the trees in rays of golden light, giving the picturesque scene the perfect finisher. A warm breeze stirred the tall wildflowers as birds sang lazily above, coupled with the quiet murmur of the small creek would calm even the weariest of travellers.
Lucas knelt in the underbrush, fingers and lips stained red with berry juice, a half-filled wicker basket resting at his side.
"They are just right this time of the year," he said, without looking up.
Behind him, Sophia laughed. That gentle, bell-like sound he remembered from his childhood, when her voice had been the center of his world. "Of course they are. After all I know the best places."
He turned, smiling faintly.
She stood there in her simple cotton dress, a sunhat perched on her head, and her own little basket tucked in the crook of her elbow. Her sleeves were rolled up, her forearms scratched slightly from the brambles. A smudge of berry juice touched her cheek as well.
She reached out and wiped Lucas' messy face with a handkerchief.
She blinked at him and smiled. "You always were a messy eater."
"You're one to talk," he replied, looking at the mess on her own face and she playfully stuck her tongue out.
They walked together between the bushes, letting time slip past unnoticed, lost in the rhythm of plucking strawberries, blueberries and whatever else Lucas had created out of her memories.
Every few minutes, she would hum a melody under her breath, and Lucas would close his eyes briefly, carving the moment into his mind.
"Mum," he said after a while, "do you remember that small blueberry bush near the hotspring? How Yuki kept sneaking berries into your apron pockets, because she didn't want anyone else eating them."
Sophia laughed again, softer now. "I had purple stains in my apron for weeks. Your father was furious."
Lucas froze, just for a moment.
Sophia didn't notice.
They moved on to the next bush, and she reached forward with both hands, carefully inspecting each berry.
But then...
She paused.
Her fingers hovered in the air, uncertain.
She looked around slowly, as if the scenery had changed behind her back.
Lucas's heart sank.
"...Mum?" he said gently.
She turned to him, a puzzled look in her eyes. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."
Lucas stared at her, the air suddenly too heavy to breathe.
She offered him a kind, apologetic smile. "I just... I must have gotten turned around. You seem familiar, dear, but I'm afraid my memory isn't what it used to be."
A silence settled between them. Birds still chirped. The breeze still stirred the leaves. Nothing had changed and yet everything had.
Lucas forced a smile.
He stepped closer and gently took her basket. "That's alright. You don't have to remember right now."
"Oh. That's kind of you," she said, a little embarrassed. "You remind me of my son. He is off to study magic right now. He also always looked after me."
He nodded.
"I know," he said, voice nearly breaking. "He still does."
She looked at him for a long moment. Her brows furrowed, faint lines of concern appearing, then fading, like clouds across the sun.
"I miss him sometimes, but he is all grown up already. I just wish I could tell him more often how proud I'm of him," she said softly.
Lucas couldn't speak. His hands trembled as he tucked her arm gently through his own and led her back out of the berry field, back to the house.
"I'm sure he is just as proud to have you as his mother," he fought back tears.
----
Lucas and Sophia sat beneath the shade of a wide, flowering cherry tree one late afternoon. The wind carried its soft petals with every breeze showering them in pink.
Lucas was tinkering again.
A little contraption sat in his lap, transfigurated from wood and stone. He had built it for her. Again. As he used to, all those years ago. But this time the ministry wouldn't take it away.
Sophia leaned close, watching with childlike wonder as the device clicked to life. A gentle *whirr*, then a small puff of shimmering dust and a gorgeous butterfly of light blue rose into the air. It fluttered once, twice, then perched on her knee, flickering.
She laughed.
"Oh Lucas," she said, reaching to cup the tiny creature, "you haven't made one of these in ages."
He glanced up at her, eyes soft. "You remember?"
"Of course I do," she said, smiling as the butterfly danced up into the air. "How could I forget them."
It landed on her nose and she smiled in that warm way that made everything worth it. He didn't mind the exhaustion, the torture, the signs that his own mind had started to suffer as well.
As the butterfly flew away it dissolved in a soft shimmer, trailing sparkles like a comet as it vanished into the air.
Sophia clapped her hands once, delighted. "Beautiful."
Lucas smiled faintly. "You used to say they were better than flowers. Because they never wilted."
She tilted her head, thoughtful. "Did I? That sounds like something I'd say."
She turned to him, brushing her fingers along the bark of the tree. The wind stirred the petals again, and a few settled in her hair. Lucas gently brushed them away.
Sophia reached down to the other still lifeless butterflies in his lap, lifting one gingerly with both hands, like it would break if she wasn't careful. "And you made these… just for me?"
Lucas stilled.
A beat passed.
Her voice was warm, kind, curious, but without recognition. She had slipped again.
He nodded slowly. "Yes. You'd always light up when they worked right."
Sophia blinked, frowning faintly. "Oh. That's… very sweet of you, dear. You remind me of someone. He used to build little things like this, too. My son."
She smiled down at the butterfly contraption.
"He was brilliant. Strange and quiet and always thinking too much, but undoubtedly brilliant. He is away right now you know, studying at Hogwarts. My heart aches every time he leaves, but that's alright."
"You want to know a secret?"
Lucas watched her for a long moment. His throat ached.
"He acts all serious and grown up, but deep down I know he will always be my little sweety. And I couldn't love him more."
"I bet he loves you too."
----
The sky above Lucas's mindspace had turned the soft gray of early dusk, painted with streaks of orange and red.
Sophia sat on a wooden bench near a garden path, surrounded by rows of glowing lilies and hovering firefly-lanterns. The lights pulsed gently with her breaths. Lucas knelt nearby, weaving a small crown of moonflowers.
"Look," he said softly, holding it up. "For you."
She turned slowly. Her eyes were cloudy since a while ago today.
"Oh, thank you," she said politely, but did not reach for the crown.
He smiled anyway and stood to place it gently on her graying hair.
Another sign that he couldn't keep this up indefinitely.
She didn't react. Just turned back to the flowers.
He sat beside her in silence for a while. The firefly-lanterns floated up and down above the path lazily.
Then, she asked it again.
"Excuse me, dear… do you live nearby?"
Lucas didn't flinch. Not anymore.
"Yes," he said. "I live right here."
She smiled, polite and warm. "That's lovely. I always feel safe when you're around."
Lucas looked down at his hands. They were trembling again. He clenched them into fists.
"I'm glad," he whispered.
There was a long pause. She hummed softly, the same lullaby he couldn't get enough of even after the millionth time. But now the tune wandered, breaking apart and falling out of order, then restarting again without her seeming to notice.
Suddenly, she blinked and looked around, alert amd confused.
"…Where's my son?" she asked.
Lucas looked up.
Sophia stood now, turning slowly in place, peering down the garden path. "Lucas? He was just here. I need to find him. He gets scared when I'm not there."
He swallowed hard.
"I'm here, Mum," he said, voice cracking. "I'm right here."
She didn't hear him.
"Lucas?" she called louder, spinning now, panic growing. "Lucas!"
She turned to him with tears in her eyes, and for a heartbeat he saw her, the real her, beneath the haze. The broken woman he barely kept alive. "Please… I can't lose him too."
Lucas stood, gently took her shaking hands.
"I'm here," he said again. "I never left."
Sophia looked at him for a long, long moment. Her breathing calmed. Her trembling stilled.
And then the recognition left her eyes again.
She smiled at him faintly. "You're such a kind boy," she said. "You remind me of someone."
He couldn't speak anymore. Couldn't breathe.
The fireflies dimmed.
The moonflowers closed.
And still he held her hand, as her world and his quietly began to slip away.
The mindspace had begun to blur at the edges. A soft fog where once there was clarity. Lucas watched it break down bit by bit, flowers wilting too fast, colors dulling, even the sky occasionally flickering like a damaged memory.
He had kept her here for what to them felt like years, alone with his own consciousness to sustain her. He had carried her pain, her trauma, her mind. But now, even that wasn't enough.
His own mind was starting to erode.
He couldn't lose her. Not her too.
So he made a choice.
----
The walls of Azkaban groaned with the ocean's rage. A cold draft seeped through the stone like death's breath, dragging in the constant whispers of madness. Somewhere in the lower levels, a prisoner screamed.
Lucas's real body sat limp against the wall, eyes hollow, frame weak from months of deprivation and torment.
His magic curled low and dark around him like smoke, twitching against the restraints. But within, in his mind, he moved with purpose.
He reached out with his domain following his instincts. He let it slip through the cracks in the walls, through the howls, past the broken minds and shattered thoughts of the kissed.
Until he found one.
Not too damaged.
Lucas entered it without further thought. There was a struggle at first, he hadn't been gentle or subtle. The man convulsed in his cell, scratching his own eyes as foreign thoughts invaded. But Lucas didn't care. He wrenched the mind open, carved out the man's ego and took it all.
A mind strong enough to sustain his purpose.
He ripped it out of its place and brought it through the darkness to his own mind.
And the moment he did… he felt it.
Relief.
His mindspace cleared like fog lifting. The colors returned. The world shimmered.
And when he stepped back into the garden.
She was there, sitting beneath the cherry tree again, whole. The grey hair gone.
"Lucas!" she said, beaming. "There you are. I was wondering where you'd gone."
He almost fell to his knees.
"Mum…"
She blinked at the emotion in his voice. "What's the matter sweety."
He smiled with tears in his eyes, too choked to speak. And sat beside her.
In the corner of his mind, the distant prisoner slowly shimmered out of existance. He had remained for a while, because of Lucas' sloppy work, but before he was fully gone he watched with horror. The horror of being awake yet trapped.
Lucas ignored it.
He had his mother back.
He would do anything to keep her.
----
The garden bloomed once more.
Like it always had done. Birds sang in pairs, the breeze hummed through tall grass, and the cherry tree never lost its blossoms. Sophia thrived in this peace, her eyes sharp, her voice bright. She even began to hum full melodies again.
For a time, it was perfect.
But perfection never lasted long.
Lucas had been forced to move onto another mind again. The first prisoner burned out under the strain far faster than he had thought. The second had lasted only a week as well.
He went through one after the other, yet no one could hold out for long. It got to the point Lucas had switched to the prison guards, but even those didn't last. Longer, but not enough.
Worse was Sophia had begun to look at him… differently. She had begun to notice and Lucas couldn't bring himself to tinker with her memory.
And one day, as Lucas laid beside her under the branches, she turned to him with tears in her eyes.
"Lucas," she whispered, brushing a curl from his forehead, "I died didn't I?"
He froze.
She saw it all in his silence. The grief. The desperation. The burden. "How long have you been keeping this memory of me here?"
"..."
"How long, Lucas?"
"…I... I lost count," he whispered. "You were fading. I... I couldn't let you go."
"Oh, my sweet boy…" Her voice cracked. She reached for his hands and held them tightly. "I love you more than anything in this world. But this… this isn't life."
"You're safe here," he insisted, eyes burning. "You're whole. Happy."
"I'm not supposed to be here, Lucas," she said gently. "Not forever. This isn't real, is it? I'm… I'm only in your mind, right."
"I can find another," he said, frantic. "Someone stronger. Someone who can hold you longer..."
"No." She cupped his face and smiled. "It's time, Lucas."
He shook his head.
"You don't understand," he whispered. "You're all I have left. If I let you go."
"You won't lose me," she said. "You'll carry me, in here." She pointed at his heart. "You always have. But you need to live, my sweety. Truly live. And I… I need to go."
Her voice grew softer. "Your father's waiting for me. And I would like to meet him again."
Lucas broke.
A sound escaped him like something torn loose. He collapsed forward, holding her as though his arms could freeze time itself.
"I'm not ready," he sobbed.
"I know," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Neither am I. But I want to see him, Lucas. And I want you to stop carrying this burden."
The cherry blossoms fell around them.
He held her until the wind grew still.
Then, without another word, he let go.
The garden faded. The branches, the sky, the warmth, all of it dimmed and dissolved like a wilted flower crumbles.
And when he opened his eyes again, he was alone in Azkaban.
Truly alone.
For the first time… ever.
----
AN: Since I pretty much only got bad reviews and apparently this story turned to shit, I will officially end this here with Lucas dying in Azkaban. I won't upload anything else I had planned/wrote for the story any more.
So in short Lucas died in Azkaban, the two blood vials remained unused, Lucas never learns to break wands or to outsource his own mind, the old shopkeeper never came up again, Holly never learned how to truly use Ancient Magic, Harry doesn't learn his families fighting style, the prophecies are unfulfilled, Susan returns to a background character, Fleur also never uses her Vela magic, the greengrasses never come back up again, Nott and Lucius return to their incompetent selves, etc.... Basically just think of the film plot from here.
Also I would be grateful to those who wrote in their review that this story is littered with plotholes, where they are. Might help me in the future if I ever write something again.
I will answer any questions you might have to what I would have written here if you are interested (maybe to write a better story on your own). You are free to use any of my ideas in your own story.
Also is there anything good to read nowadays?