Azkaban - 17

There was one other cell set apart from the others and located further down the hallway.

"It's just a cell that's no longer used," Tonks replied, shifting her eyes.

"Why isn't it used?" Ron asked.

"What difference does it make?" Draco asked, his eyes drifting nervously back towards the other cells. "Let's just get out of here."

"You said this is the high security wing, right? This is where they hold the most dangerous prisoners," Harry said.

Tonks nodded. "Yes, which is why we should keep moving," she replied, taking Harry's arm and trying to steer him towards the stairwell.

Harry pulled his arm away and began walking down the hallway, using the wall for support. "And that's the cell where one prisoner escaped. That's why they don't use it anymore," he whispered.

"Harry, don't do this to yourself," Tonks said.

Ron's eyes opened wide, finally realizing whose cell it had once been. "Harry, we've got other things to do," he said quietly.

"I know," Harry replied, still moving toward the cell, "but I just need to see it. He spent twelve years here, and if I don't at least see it, no one will ever know."

He'd reached the cell but stopped just before the door. His legs no longer appeared willing to carry him further. He swallowed heavily, staring at that opening and slowly shuffling his feet forward. The cell was dismally small and very dark – barren. There was a single camp bed against the wall, and Harry could just make out the rough sketching of a dog, a wolf and a stag etched into the stone.

A painful lump grew in Harry's throat as he imagined how abandoned and utterly alone Sirius must have felt. He'd been kept prisoner in this small space – not much bigger than a broom cupboard, actually. The similarity didn't amuse him at all. Twelve years. Twelve wasted years…

Ron's hand on his shoulder brought Harry back to the present. He blinked his eyes to clear them and steeled his resolve. They followed Tonks back to the brightly lit stairwell, and Harry leaned heavily on Ron while they walked. He wanted nothing more than to get back on that cold little boat so he could shut his eyes and sleep for a while. He hoped Dung's things would be easy to find.

"Potter, if you can't move any faster at least get out of my way," Malfoy said as he pushed past Harry and Ron. "I want to get out of this foul building."

"Don't worry about him. He'd nearly wet himself by the time Moody and I got there," Ron said, scoffing. "Although, it is lucky he screams like a little girl or else we might've never known you were in trouble," he added loudly enough for Malfoy to hear.

The blond ignored him and hurried down the stairs after Tonks.

"Leave him alone," Harry muttered weakly. "He's just lashing out because his father was a right git."

Ron blinked. "Are you defending Malfoy?" he asked incredulously.

"No," Harry said quickly. "I still think he's a whiny little coward. He's just had a rough morning."

"Yeah, unlike you who finds this place a barrel of laughs, right?" Ron said, scowling.

"Don't be a prat," Harry mumbled. He wanted to smack that smug grin right off his mate's face, but feared he wouldn't make it to the holding unit without him.

When Tonks finally stopped walking, she stood in front of a thick steel door. She used her wand to unlock it, but then had to bodily push it open as it got stuck halfway open. Harry stared, agape. There was row after row of haphazard items – mostly clothing – all stuffed into boxes. There didn't appear to be any order to the room at all.