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“Ok, I should read the paper more often,” Quinn answered in defeat. “Now, will you just tell me what is going on in the world.”
Saxon finally opened the door and walked into the room, Quinn following him and closing the door as he threw his jacket over the chair next to a small table and turned to her, his polite exterior finally gone completely and his expression livid.
Quinn looked around in terror as something moved. The door! The door was opening. Her first instinct was the Apparate out, but that had proved impossible. Her second instinct told her to hide; however, stuck to the ground caused a few problems in that area too. There was nothing she could do except stand in the vault looking like the biggest idiot that ever walked the face of the planet.
“Harry Potter questioning Quinntessa Landley on suspicion of attempted robbery of Gringotts bank,”
Finally, he stopped and opened a door to the right, five other men all standing, arms crossed, looking bored. They were all dressed in jeans and thick shirts, their button up Ministry robes undone and fluttering at their sides as they moved. They looked like muggle builders who’d found the sets of robes and thrown them on for fun.
The crumbling concrete courtyard was splattered with rain and shallow puddles, tall walls with large glassless windows stretching up into the depressing, cloud strewn grey sky. She wondered if it was ever sunny here. Maybe it’d be like sunshine at a funeral; it was just wrong.
Quinn watched with blurred eyes as the weak sunlight began filtering in through the small barred window of her cell and across the floor and walls. The sounds of the prison hadn’t died with the sun, but only quieted to a deafening silence a few hours before.
Three Days Down
Ninety day sentence. Three days down, eighty-seven to go. Ninety day sentence. Three days down, eighty-seven to go.
Quinn thought that if she weren’t here, she’d probably be avoiding contact with Mason Walker if she knew what he’d been accused of, but all she could think of now was that she didn’t care. Whatever they thought he’d done didn’t matter to her. He’d protected her. He was the only reason she wasn’t living her worst nightmare at this very moment.
Each time she woke, she was left to wonder if she had just woken from a nightmare, or fallen asleep into one.
Leaning against the side of the windowsill, she smiled a little at the sight of the man who always gave her a slight smile when she went to get some food. She watched as he walked across the courtyard, only stopping to let Mason past as he came running out into it.
“New boyfriend, huh, Quinn?” he asked with slight amusement. Holding his hands up as if in defeat; he kept his gaze on Mason, but still spoke to Quinn. “Mind calling your pit bull to heel, love? I do quite like my face the way it is!”
Quinn opened her mouth to tell Saxon that she did not stare at Mason, but she closed it again. She knew from experience that biting to Saxon’s bait would only lead to him trying to rile her up even more. However, this time, it seemed Saxon didn’t need her to bite.
Quinn quickly realised this was nothing like Quidditch. For one thing, there was obviously no flying, and second, there was no Snitch. There weren’t even any Bludgers. It was just a group of men throwing a ball around and trying to get it to one end of the pitch. It looked like some odd Muggle game… a very violent Muggle game from the way they were playing.
Stopping, Quinn looked up and down the corridor, twisting to see if someone was near to her. She was sure she could hear voices, and not those of the men down in the courtyard. In the slight lull in cheers, she had been positive that she’d heard two people talking near by.
She let out a small laugh and for the first time since she’d come into this place, she felt slightly like herself. It was the sort of joke she’d have made normally, but not in here.
Walking back from getting food, she’d left Saxon in the courtyard, hussling some inmates in a game of poker he’d managed to get into. How he’d managed to edge a way into the game, Quinn had no idea. She supposed it was just Saxon. There was something about his arrogant optimism that people responded to… it bugged her no end.
As wailing filled the prison, Quinn narrowed her eyes in confusion. It wasn’t delivery day, was it? She shrugged to herself. Maybe it was, she’d lost track. Either way, it didn’t matter, if anything, the wailing was nothing more than an annoyance… and knowledge that Griflin might get his arm fixed finally. However, as suddenly as the wailing came, it stopped, and a deep voice echoed through the prison.
As another indistinct yell came up from the courtyard, Quinn went cautiously to the nearest window and looked down just in time to see Mason and two men holding him crash backwards to the ground.
Saxon had been the one to go down to the courtyard to get food, bringing it back up to Quinn’s cell and sharing the bowl with her. Saxon said he wasn’t that hungry, but having heard the most unnatural noise coming from his stomach, Quinn knew he was just making sure nothing set the others off.
The news spread like wildfire through the prison, whispered excitedly from inmate to inmate, passed through cell bars and over bowls of food. It was never shouted, never cheered about. It was told like an exciting secret, like school boys caught looking at dirty magazines under the table. Rosier had declared it ‘fishing’ season.
Quinn stopped; pure shock and terror passing over her face. On the other side of the cell bars, a group of ten or fifteen inmates were stood, all waiting nervously, watching to see what would happen. They could watch this? They could stand there and gawk at her like she were sport.
Saxon Vaughan didn’t shout, he didn’t swear, he didn’t throw anything. He simply shoved his hand forward into her hand. He opened his fist, dropping into her grasp the Portkey that he’d been keeping safe for her. The Portkey that was now glowing bright blue.
“Miss Landley, I presume?” he asked, looking down at the clipboard with an indifferent smile.
“What the…” the familiar voice said as they rounded the sofa, presumably looking down at her. “Quinn?”
Sitting in the armchair, Quinn hummed softly, her eyes closed as she rocked gently from side to side. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting here but she really didn’t care. She had all the time in the world.
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