Hand You’re Dealt
July 15th, 2002 Holding Cell, Department of Mysteries OPEN [1]
“It’s a pack of cards, Daniels! How ‘harmful’ could that possibly be? Paper and ink—hell, get a muggle pack. Exactly the same, four suites, 52 cards, just less likely to explode on us!” The Auror gave her a doubtful look, and Lily had to wonder if she’d helped or hurt herself by invoking the idea of the muggle in this case. Regardless, the man remained unconvinced and soon walked away, past where Lily could try and make a persuasive argument through the wards at him, and she was forced to retreat, defeated for now.
Some three weeks and counting, and little had changed in their tiny prison besides the number of beds. Well, and the advent of coffee, but hopefully there wouldn't need to be another riot. One had been enough, even if the chcaffiene it had brought had been a welcome relief. At least until it was jittering in your veins and you realized it did nothing to make the four walls around you any different. Some where still in the stage of finding it restful to have nothing to do, but Lily, perhaps having a jump start on the whole ‘cooped up in a small place’ thing, was already at her wits end. Even with some of her dearest friends to catch up with, the boredom was starting to become unbearable. Yet it seemed even a simple deck of cards, which could occupy so many of them at a time, was unlikely to be producp ed.
“Perhaps they’re testing our ability to die again via boredom,” she grumbled, flopping on to her cot.