66 Azkaban 2
It was probably the gloomiest place in the world. It was silent all around, for no living thing wanted to break the cold dead silence. Only an occasional maniacal laughter or heart wrenching scream would shatter the silence, leaving the mind feeling like broken mirror.
Even the land it was located on was dead. The only sight to see were dark grey jagged rocks that radiated unfriendliness and hostility. The sea beside it would crash into the rocks with a mighty force, sometimes dragging down a piece of the cliff with it. Even when still, the water was painted in a blend of colors that made one recall a petrified sea.
The only other thing that might have caught the eye was the gigantic building that was located near the cliffs.
The building was tall, immensely so, for the eye could not reach the peak as it was covered by the dark grey clouds. It was shaped in a triangular prism that was placed vertically. It's shadow casted out into the sea for hundreds of feet, causing one to feel an innate suppression, a rejection of will.
It's walls had a red brown rusty color to it, as if the blood of the dead prisoners haunted its walls. The occasional windows would only serve to let out darkness instead of light. The glint of light reflecting off of a bloodshot eyeball was the only indication of a living presence. That and the hooded figures.
If there was one thing that was more terrifying than the atmosphere, it was the masses of black hooded creatures floating around the building. The hooded creatures looked vaguely humanoid, they had the same shape. Head, arm, and hands. However, where their faces should've been there was shadows.
And the there was the cold. The frost biting, bone chilling cold. Not the cold that you experience when it snows or rains, but the cold you feel as you slowly freeze to death, or the cold you feel as your body slowly loses your heat.
The cold you feel when you know you are going to die.
The hooded creatures stood upright, floated around or entered into the prison occasionally to do something.
Every time they did, another scream would prince the silence.
Suddenly, the hooded figures started to twitch, as many of the idle hooded ones got up from their spots and ever so slowly inches towards the thing they sensed.
In the far distance, a group of small boats made their way towards the island all the while battling the waves. On them were about ten people. A rather big man with a bushy beard, a man with a green top hat, and a young boy with black hair and pale skin.
The rest aren't that important so no need to describe them.
On the boat, the boy was leaning out of the boat so far out that it looked as though he was going to fall out.
"Hagrid! Look at the waves! It looks exactly as though it is from a horror film!"
"Arth... me think it's.... best... for yer to... stay- BLURK-"
Hagrid threw up into the murky waters looking a bit green. The vomit was quickly swallowed up by the water and disappeared immediately.
"Oh Hagrid, it's not that bad. I heard from Harry that you already rode a boat before."
"That's... not the... problem..."
"Oh is it like PTSD?"
"Post traumatic stress disorder. A disorder in which a person has difficulty recovering after experiencing or witnessing a terrifying event."
Arth sent a glance at Hagrid.
"Considering that you were sent here as a child I reckon it's PTSD. But its alright Hagrid. It'll be better this time. All we have to do is stay put on the island and not piss off the dementors."
Arth squinted his eyes.
"Speaking of dementors, I think I see a couple floating around their... they are exactly like what the books described them as."
The dementors slowly started to gather around the boat all the while staying away at a distance.
The only thing separating them from the Dementors was a thin wisp of silver that hovered like a mist.
Arth glanced at the one casting the spell.
"Can you cast a corporeal Patronus or is a non corporeal Patronus the best you can do?"
The man gave a wry smile.
"Unfortunately, a non corporeal Patronus is the best I can do..."
"Oh... what a shame."
The man wearing a green bowler hat gave a light cough.
"Enough now boy, we have arrived." The boats let out a soft thud as it hit the dock.
"Welcome to Azkaban."