Remorse

Why won’t they shut up?

Felix put his hands over his ears and rocked back and forth on the floor of his cell. They were getting to him, and the Dementors knew it. They knew they had him trapped, trapped in his own self loathing, a loathing so deep it made him sick multiple times a day. The shouting got louder, and he whimpered, his hands gripping his greasy hair. A beard forming on his once handsomely shaven face. It had been months in this cell, months that he had endured their shouting, their name calling, recalled the feeling of a fist hitting his chin, making him fly to the floor in real pain.

The dementors made you think of your worst fear. Your worst memories were brought to light, and they made you suffer through them, day and night. For Felix, this memory was old, and nearly forgotten, but one that was easily used against him. In the memory, Felix was sitting in the corner, no more then five or six... his parents were shouting at each other. Yelling about him, angry about him, about what he had done, about how they needed to fix him… His father had hit his mother… hit her so hard she hadn’t gotten back up again, and then he had gone for him.

His father was drunk, Felix didn’t blame him, it wasn’t his fault the alcohol made him angry. But still…

His fist hit hard, and Felix had stayed on the floor, hoping his father would just forget him, call him weak and let him go, so that he could get a beer and fall asleep in front of the couch like always. But not today… Today he had kicked Felix repeatedly, kicked him until Felix had felt something crack in his chest, and he had started to cough up blood. His foot wouldn’t just hit his chest though, he was kicked in the face, in the groin, over and over, face, stomach, groin. Until finally Felix had blacked out.

Felix lay whimpering hard on the floor clutching his head, tears falling down his face. Was this what everyone else saw when the Dementors were around? Did they see things this horrible. Felix may not be the toughest guy around, but no ‘man’ would have been able to stand up against these memories. No ‘man’ would be able to get through that without crying.
And then, once the dementors felt secure that he had learned his lesson from that memory, they moved onto more recent ones. Naomi in front of the werewolves, Khaat helping him, the look in her eyes when he had nearly attacked her, one last time. They didn’t deserve it.. they hadn’t done anything to him, in fact it was people like him, that made people like his father, so why had he done it? Why had he gone and been an evil bastard… killing people… kidnapping.. hurting.. worrying… it didn’t make sense.

When Felix was in moods like these, he wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep, he’d just rock back and forth and cry, cursing the world, himself, his father, until he had no curses left, until he was spent, exhausted, useless.

His beard grew longer.

One day Felix had gotten up, one day he had stood up, and went to his cell door and looked out. Some Dementors had come over, looking for some fresh new hope to chew on. But there was nothing, and they quickly stopped and went to other suffering souls. Felix was completely empty, a shell of what he had been. There was a guard sitting near the door, his patronus guarding him from the wrath of the dementors. “I wish to see Khaat Lupin..” Felix croaked out, and the guard didn’t look up. Felix cleared his throat and tried again.

“I wish to see Khaat Lupin!” He said louder this time, and finally the guard looked up at him. “Wat you wanna see ‘er for? She ain’t got no time for the likes o’ you…” The guard flicked his newspaper and kept on reading. Felix stared at him blankly for a moment, before he cleared his throat and tried again. “Please… may I set up an appointment to see her?” He asked softly. Other prisoners were starting to notice, and the guard had looked up from his paper, startled. “Ain’t no prisoner ever said please before…” he said chewing on his lip before sighing. “I’ll see wat I can do… don’t ‘spect nothing.. but I’ll see what I can do.” He said and went back to his newspaper.

Felix sat down on his cot again, and stared blankly at the wall. He had nothing left.. and he was hoping that just possibly.. just possibly, this woman could help him in building up what the dementors had just knocked down.

Khaat had gotten the message that Felix wanted to see her. It had somehow bypassed Rob. If Rob had known, the request would have been flatly denied, she felt. However, she cleared time out of her schedule to go. She had a white crocheted sweater dress and she had added a teal shawl to ward off the coolness of Azkaban, along with some unusual heels with a spring print to them.

She had Brian with her today since Rob hadn't known she was coming. She had talked him into remaining outside the visitation room while she saw Felix. She found the visitation room that she had created before still existed. It needed some freshening up, and had gotten dusty. She took some time to use her wand to clean it before he arrived.

As with the last time, she came bearing food for him. The newest Asian stirfry with fresh, seasonal vegetables, and a tangy sesame dressing, and grilled chicken. She had added Chinese almond cookies, fresh from the Sparks bakery, and a couple of bottles of green tea. She had not brought food for herself. She had only included a bottle of green tea for herself.

Brian insisted on checking the room itself to the smallest detail before he would consider allowing Khaat to have Felix brought. He simply disapparated anything that he believed could be much too much of a temptation to use as a weapon. When he was satisfied, he took a position immediately outside the door, pressed against the wall, his wand in his hand.

Khaat sent for Felix, took a seat in the wing chair in front of the fireplace, and waited.

It was actually happening, he wasn't cleaned up, he wasn't washed, or made to look pretty, oh no.. he was dragged out of his shell, dirty, skinny, weak, and chained. The chain was much heavier then he remembered it, probably because he was so weak, he could barely lift it. He dragged his feet, running his hand over his bearded chin. He stared straight ahead, eyes sunken in so that he looked more skeleton then man. Dark lines marked that he didn't sleep at all in this place. Dragged to outside of the room, Felix was made to wait for a moment, before he was dragged into the clean room like he was nothing more then a bag of dirt. Placed in a chair, where his legs were chained to it, but nothing else, and then left.

Felix had to sit for a long moment without being able to see. It was bright.. much to bright, he was used to the dark cell, the horrible prison, the smell... The only smell he smelt now, was himself.. and something far better.. it appeared to be food! Real... nourishing food! Something he hadn't expected to see again... Feilix ran his hand over his chin again, and his eyes slowly searched the room. Taking in the details of the once dirty room, it looked so clean, so upkept, but Felix know.. people rarely visited prisoners... so this room was rarely used.. probably a spell had cleaned it...

Finally his eyes landed on the woman he had wanted to see. The woman who could save him.. Khaat Lupin.. Felix attempted to clear his throat, but failed, and had to sit for a long moment, staring at his hands in his lap before he was able to try again. "Hello.." He whispered in his hoarse voice. Whoever the notorious Felix had been, he was gone, in fact he looked very much like that five year old child in the corner of the room, crying his heart out. He seemed older though, every bone in his body was visible through his, now too big, clothes. Felix slowly let his eyes wander to the food, staring greedily at it. There was so much there, so much more then he had had since the soup she had brought him... last meal he remembered eating was a hard chunk of slightly moldy bread.. better then he normally got... normally it was all moldy, and he had to pick the insides out in order to eat any at all..

Felix took a deep breath, and his eyes finally found Khaat's. "Dementors... useful creatures when they are dealing with people like me.." He said in his hoarse voice. A voice that hadn't been used in months, except for his request to the guard, that and when he had screamed at the beginning. After that he had just gone silent. "they break you down.. layer by layer.. like the layers of an onion peeled away bit by bit.. until there is nothing left.." He stopped and had to cough hard into his arm before he could speak again, and it sounded much more strained now. "I know.. you hate me.. but please... I need.. help." he said and looked her straight in the eyes, hoping for forgiveness, praying that he would get a new start.

She rose slowly from her chair and approached calmly, her wand still at rest on the table beside her chair. "May I?" she asked. She went over and touched his forehead, diagnosing. Underweight, underfed, exhausted in ever sense. Hungry--deeply, deeply hungry. Thirsty. She felt his emotions. That in itself confused her deeply. She wasn't reading his thoughts, but she felt the mix of emotions. She withdrew her hand.

"Would you like to be able to clean up a bit?" Khaat asked gently. "I can arrange that. But perhaps, first things first. Perhaps you'd like to eat first. Pace yourself. Its been a long time since you had a proper meal." She took the food from the large basket--the same one she'd brought before. She handed him the large icy cold bottle of green tea and popped open the aluminum top on the glass bottle for him. She returned to the basket and set out the container of the beautiful chicken and vegetable stir fry with the sesame glaze, with plain steamed white rice, and a small plate of some Chinese almond cookies. She laid out a fork and also a pair of chopsticks. She wasn't sure which he would prefer. "Help yourself," she told him quietly. "Enjoy. Food first. Talk later."

She knew he wanted to talk. They would get to that. Her own preference, though, was that the talk would either come as she was meeting his needs, or afterwards. He did need someone to attend to at least the mere basics of it, and Felix was looking far far less than the man who had been so self assured just a short time ago. She took four extraordinarily large fresh bright colored apples and put them in a wooden bowl on the table. She took one for herself and sat back in her wing chair. she took her teal shawl and used a corner of it to shine the apple before taking a bite of the apple and popping the top on her own green tea bottle. "You'll like the apples. They're juicy and crisp and as sweet as sugar," she told him.

Her warm hand was something so unexpected, something so gentle, he recoiled from it, half expecting her hand to come down hard on his face, a punch.. a slap.. anything other then the warm touch that caressed his clammy forehead. Felix was stiff as a board when she finally moved away, and he stared at her with something that looked like pain and remorse mixed on his features. Suddenly food was being put before him. He stared in awe as she pulled out food that wasn't covered in mold, or slime, or didn't look like it had been left out in the ocean for a few days before it was given to him. He stared at it, and heard his stomach rumble loudly, rumble, and rumble, as though it would never stop. It almost hurt how much it growled, but finally it settled, and Felix was left staring at the food.

If only she knew how much of an affect she had on him... how much this helped his mind and soul as she took a bite of the apple, and sat in front of him. The fact that she prepared food for him... that she would look him in the eye, when he wanted to cower before her. He wanted her to be upset, to hit him, to hate him.. but she came in here... carrying a basket of food, and a warm smile, it was almost to much for him. After all of the pain before.. nothing was as great at this one, the odd aching throb in his chest. He slowly picked up the chopsticks, and started to eat slowly at first, but appeared to be picking up speed. He drank like a shipwrecked person, who hadn't had real water in days, he ate like a person who was thrown in a dungeon for twenty years, before he was able to taste food again, and for a long moment, all he did was eat.

It was extraordinary, how food could make a person feel more alive. How such a simple act of charity could redeem a person's soul, how a smile could turn months of torture and pain, into a blight on his life that was soon to be forgotten. Khaat was a wonderful woman... and the remorse was killing him inside, from how much he hated himself for hurting her. After the food was gone, he set down the chopsticks, and drank some more of the green tea, before he sat back, and had to wait a long moment as his stomach readjusted to having some food in there. It had to turn itself from eating his own muscles to let him move around, to being able to eat the carbs in the food, that would give him energy, and make him more alert for the next few days.

After a long moment of silence, Felix realized one thing he missed more then anything else, more then food, water, sunlight.. he missed a cigarette. When in jail, you either had to quit or die from the longing, he had quit cold turkey, but the aching inside for a cigarette hurt almost as badly as the remorse. "Any chance you got a light?" He asked in his hoarse whisper, holding up his hand to mimic smoking, so that it was more clear of what he wanted. He had to put his hand down rather quickly though, because he didn't want her to see how badly he was shaking.

Now that he was fed, he knew he had to start talking.. he had to tell her why he had called her, well.. explain his little speech earlier. So, after clearing his throat again, Felix ran his hand over his chin, feeling the whiskers that grew there, and staring hard at his lap, thinking about what to say now. "I was never a very bad bad guy.." He said and gave a hoarse laugh, that sent him into another coughing fit. Wiping his mouth with his wrist before continuing. "I felt all of the things normal bad people feel.. anger... lust... all of that.. but one thing people like You-Know-Who never felt.. was remorse... and that.. that is what made me ask you here today." He said, his voice nearly a whisper.

"It hurts so much... here... in my chest." He put his hand over his heart, and clutched at the dirty rag his shirt was. "It hurts... knowing that someone like you... someone like your family, your loved ones.. they were hurt by me... and I know what it's like to be hurt... but I kept asking myself.. if my father hurt me like that.. why did I hurt others.. and to be honest... I don't know." He said and coughed again, turning his head away to hide the shaking his body was going through. "Your kindness... your strength.. it taught me a lesson I will never forget... I don't really know what I expected would come of talking to you.. but... I just had to let you know.."

"Let you know that I'm sorry..sorry I hurt you.. your family, your life... Sorry will never change what I did.. but... its a start isn't it?" he asked softly, and went quiet, staring at his hands, his eyes dead and worn inside, as he sat there, his stomach uncomfortably full, and his head pounding from him using his voice so much in such a short time.

"I did remember you smoked," Khaat replied softly. "I...I don't know why, but I tucked a pack into my purse." She had hastily bought a pack at a shop where her godfather regularly bought cigarettes. She didn't smoke, so knowing where he bought his pipe tobacco was the only way she knew where to buy cigarettes. But when she got into the shop, she got confused. The only packages she remembered were the ones Rob regularly smoked, which by all accounts were nothing but crap, or the brand Eli smoked, which by everything everyone said, were infinitely better. Khaat had, out of some nonsensical kneejerk reaction, selected the better brand, She lit one for him with the end of her wand and floated the cigarette over to him. It made her feel like a bit of a sucker that she had even thought of the bloody cigarettes, but since he had asked, there was no reason why she shouldn't give him one.

"I never believed people were just born bad," Khaat said. "Some muggles tend to buy that, but I haven't hardly ever met anybody who didn't have some tale to tell about how they got to making the choices they chose to make. And usually it is pretty ugly story. So, you say it was your father, then. Tell me. What exactly did he do?" She crossed one long toned leg over the other, her floral patterned stiletto dangling from the shapely ankle. Perhaps if he could answer just what exactly had happened when he was a child, he could provide healing for the both of them. And, if he ever spoke to her again, maybe Eli would find some healing in it as well.

A cigarette, in a place like this? It floated over to him, and he grabbed it greedily out of the air, taking in a large lungful of smoke, sitting there, he let the flavor waft over his tongue and into his lungs, before he blew it out again, and had to cough a few times because he wasn't used to it. The brand she had bought was a lot more expensive then the stuff he got, that was for sure. This was a good brand, hand rolled probably, house elf plucked leaves... it was a beautiful cigarette, and he took another long drag from it, before he slowly lowered the burning stick from his lips, and stared at Khaat for a long moment, wondering why she had remembered that he smoked... it was odd for someone to remember something like that.. when the person like him... well they definitely didn't remember details about her anyway...

When she spoke, he went quiet, his eyes gazing at her with an almost longing look in them. She was an astounding woman... and here she was... beautiful, fit, and kind... while here he was... dirty, weak, and evil. It didn't work like that.. people like those two should never speak.. let alone look at each other straight in the eyes. Felix stared at her as she asked him what his father had done to him. Felix took another pull from the cigarette, and watched as the smoke danced around his head in the still air of the room. He stared off into the distance for a long time, trying to gather his thoughts.

"You ever read those books... about Child Abuse... where the kid is sitting in the corner... crying because his parents are fighting.. then the dad.. he.. he hits his mom.. and the kid is only five..." Felix sounded hurt, tormented, he was actually speaking of what he had been forced to watch over and over for the past few months. "And the kid wants to run.. but he feels the need to protect his mother... and... and suddenly the mother doesn't get back up... she just lays there.. groaning, her hand over her stomach... hurt.. and then the dad... he.. he turns on the crying little boy... kicks him.. over, and over...beats him into a pulp... beats him until he blacks out..." Felix felt tears run down his cheeks, but he took another breath from the cigarette, and forced his voice to steady, though the tears still flowed.

"Then.. when the kid is older... he's thirteen now.. he comes home one summer from school... to discover that his mom took all her stuff... left a note on the front door, saying she had left with his little sister.. who was autistic because of the blow she had when she was still in the womb... and they had moved to the America's.. leaving behind nothing..." Felix stared straight ahead, and shook his head. "Yeah... ever read those kind of books? Sad books... they usually end up with that person in jail.. having killed people... tortured people.. and now.. he resents what he does.. he hates himself for what he did, and can't understand why he would do something like that in the first place... he wants away from the Dementors.. but knows that he deserves to rot in a place like this until he dies... and knows that nothing will change that.. but he just wants that girl to know.. wants that woman to know... that he is sorry... and if he could take it all back he would.." He finally stopped and inhaled more smoke, trying desperately to control his shaking hands now, his gaze now trained on the ceiling as though it could keep the tears off his face.

She had seen it coming, but there it was. Repentance. The desire to apologize, to turn back and make things right. That was the fullness of the definition of the word. She had to take a second to wrap her mind around the fact that he was asking. No, he needed her forgiveness in order to start to heal. That wasn't going to come easy for her. But she had been thinking a great deal about what had happened to them too. She still hurt emotionally, and she still had times when she would wake in the middle of the night, afraid, hear the even rate of Brians' breathing beside her, get up, check her daughters, and walk in the silence of the great house, just to see if everything was still safe, if the protection spells still held. It had taken her awhile to realize she was chasing ghosts of what had happened in that cellar.

Forgiveness, though, as she now understood it, didn't mean that she wasn't going to perhaps still have that. It certainly didn't mean she could erase out of her memory what had happened. What it did mean was that she was merely not going to seek revenge against him anymore. She needed to let go of the desire to see Felix behind bars until he rotted to dust. Well, there was a certain rotting going on now, the beginning fringes of it anyway. She saw that. But did it need to go further? No. Not really.

"I do understand," she said. Not first hand. She had been blessed with a good family, but she certainly knew and had worked with abused women and children at St. Mungos and in other ways. "There weren't some of the rescues then that we have now. And even so, as much as they try to be there for every child, sometimes if they don't know about a particular child, they cannot get to them. I apologize for some of those organizations. Had they known, this might not have turned out like this. Some of them I know and work with now, as you well know. I apologize on their behalf."

So where had they come then? He had apologized, and so had she--for the very organization he had struck so hard against--for not being there for him. They would have been, if they had only known. But wizards didn't know it all. They did their best, but still, when it was all said and done, magic was only a tool, like a muggle hammer or any other tool. Beneath the magic, they were still human. She sat back, sipped her tea, and decided it was not what she wanted. She flicked her wand at a teakettle near the fireplace. "Make tea!" she commanded it. She flicked her wand and the hearth to start a fire only big enough to brew a pot of tea. The tea tin began to make preparations with the teakettle to brew the pot of tea. Perhaps that would give them both a chance to wrap their brains around just exactly what had happened.

Felix waited, with batted breath, as she spoke, apologizing.. for the organization.. forgiving him in her own special way. The second it was out though.. he felt as though something had melted in his heart. Where it had been cold, frozen, it was as though spring had come, and it was warm, almost fuzzy.. an empty feeling in his chest, that he hadn't realized he had, was full. Well.. not all the way full.. there was a part missing.. and he knew who could fill it, but of course.. he couldn't ever see her again. He couldn't ever look at her.. he knew that if he were to get out of this prison, it would be a changed man. Naomi had seen to that.. the dementors had seen to that.. remorse.. it was a strong emotion, and when you COULD love.. and just chose not to.. it hit you harder then you could imagine.

Felix stared at her, and then slowly put his cigarette back to his lips, watching as the kettle brewed some hot tea. He was trying hard to wrap his mind around what had just happened.. he had apologized.. and she had accepted it... maybe not the words.. but she had.. and it was a start, a glorious start. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled more smoke, and then sat watching the small crackling flame. Ah.. fire.. something he missed greatly, it's warmth, it's beauty, the way it could hurt, but only if you didn't respect it... it was a marvelous thing. Felix smiled slightly, and then, in a soft, hoarse whisper he said: "thank you..." Then he bowed his head, and sat silently. He finally felt better, as though the demons that the Dementors brought were gone, and he could sit in peace for a moment. Peace that he hadn't had since he was born.

She heard the kettle start to boil, and she took two of her mothers handthrown, homemade stoneware mugs from a sideboard cabinet. They were large, with large comfortable pottery handles, and they were painted in bright colors. They had always been Khaat's favorite mugs to have tea in. She poured two mugs of hot tea and handed him one. She motioned to two containers on the sideboard. One that held sugar and another that held powdered creamer. Two spoons sprang up to attention and danced over along with the sugar and the creamer.

"I didn't think about bringing milk," she said. "So I suppose we shall have to make due." She put a bit of sugar in her mug and just a bit of the powdered creamer. She dropped a spoon into her cup and started the spoon to spin to stir the mix with just a flick of her finger. "Help yourself," she told him. She sat back in her chair, smelled the traditional aroma of the Earl Grey. It wasn't her favorite blend, but she would manage.

"So, then. Let us look at where we go from here. We do have a number of rehabilitative programs that we might consider involving you in to begin to see if you have made sufficient enough of a change to start to work towards a release. Have you given any thought to what you would like to do with your life if you were to be released? You do realize that you cannot go back to or associate with anyone that you associated before unless they too are willing to make a change."

The first people that came up in her mind that she knew he had associated with were Tom Gelding, who deserved to be fried at the business end of an auror's wand. And then there was Naomi. The last Khaat knew, Naomi was as crooked and inappropriate for a reformed Felix as it got. He would have to be willing to part company from them. Particularly Gelding. Naomi? Well, she was a pawn for her father, Fenrir. Always had been. Or at least that's the way Khaat had seen her. That was probably why Felix had been able to mold her so very easily. Khaat did have the power to place him in a release program so that he could work towards trying to get out of Azkaban, but she needed to know now if he was ready for it or not.