The guards were leading Sean Moffett somewhere, but did it matter anymore?

'No, not really.' He thought to himself. Truth be told, nothing much mattered to Sean after a few years of being in Azkaban. Life sentences tended to do that to a person. Sean sometimes wondered if he could be called a person anymore, let alone a wizard. One of the Azkaban guards leading him through the long hallways of the prison said something, but Sean couldn't catch it.

Finally, the long walk had come to an end. Sean's wrists were starting to hurt, he breathed the smallest sigh of relief as he was lead into a brighter room. The walls were bare as were most rooms in Azkaban. There was a small, plain table along with two chair set on opposite sides from the table

'Not much need for decor in a prison I suppose.' Sean thought as  his cuffs were removed and he was sat down in one of the chairs. The guards left the room and Sean began to wait. Who was coming? What was going to happen?

'Does it really matter though?' He asked himself. 'I suppose not.'

As Sean sat in his seat, alone, he would begin to hear someone coming down the hallway from the opposite door. Accompanying the sound of normal footsteps would be the unmistakable sound of an ebony cane making impacts upon the stone floor. When they finally stopped at the opposite door, it swung open to reveal a face belonging to a man who knew that Sean would not be happy to see. And it didn't matter if Sean Moffett never wanted to see Roland Dylanis the Ninth until the end of his days, because Roland definitely wanted to see Sean Moffett.

Clad in a crisp, tailored business suit with a wide-brimmed dress hat on his head and clutching an ebony cane, Roland Dylanis IX looked every bit as mighty and authoritative as he did when the two men had met, while Sean bore the unmistakable signs of stress from prison upon his visage. Roland strode into the room, removing his hat as he did so.

"Sean Moffett," he began as he strode up to the table and placed his hat upon the surface, "You've definitely seen better days." Roland slid into the seat opposite Sean and leaned his cane against the corner where he'd placed his hat. "Have you been enjoying your time in Azkaban?"

Sean had expected himself to be filled with rage at seeing the man whose offer had cost him his freedom. But it took a full minute before Sean could even register what had just happened. Roland Dylanis had just come into the room.

"You..." He started to say, "What are you doing here? Powerful men like you don't come to-" He stopped to think, his mind becoming clouded over. It took a few seconds for him to focus again. "You don't come to places like this unless you want something. Are you here to kill me?"

'He has to be here for that. He wants to tie up...loose ends, that's it. He knows I could tell people who told me to send snatchers to that home. Sean thought, his mind clearing up little by little with the stimulation from having a visitor come to him in Azkaban for the first time since, well, ever.

"Now, that wasn't really polite," Roland said, a small, smug smile beginning to play at one corner of his mouth as his eyes bore deep into Sean's, "I simply wanted to come and say hi to an old friend. If I wanted to kill you, Sean, then I would have done so back in '97. With the daily disappearances and murders by the Death Eaters, your name would have been one of many mentioned on Potterwatch. You really should have known better than to assist the Death Eater regime. And yet you did, and here you are." Roland leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he did so.

"As for the possibility of you telling others about what really landed you here in Azkaban," Roland said in a bored tone, sighing as he did so, "I know you won't tell a soul. Not only because doing so would guarantee your extradition to the United States for trial and execution, but because ruining my life and my career would be the absolute worst possible thing your could ever do." Roland's voice had steadily turned more menacing and deep, his grandfatherly appearance slowly morphing into one of pure anger as a demonstration.

"You see, Sean, if you were to ever spill the beans about what happened, your death would be guaranteed whether you were shipped off to the States or not," he continued, "because I would certainly get to you first in either case." Roland allowed the unspoken consequences hang in the air for a moment before relaxing his posture and tone of voice and continuing to speak. "And besides, I highly doubt you'd want to squander your new freedom, Sean. The Ministry of Magic has only wanted to keep the entire incident that landed you here for life quiet. The last thing they'd want is for you to go to the Prophet with your story, which would inevitably get heard by the American Magical Government." Again, Roland stopped speaking, but the implications of everything he said were clear as day. Roland instead elected to draw his wand from his cane and began tracing on the metal table in between them.

When Roland finished, two miniature figures of people emerged, made from the very metal they were drawn upon. They weren't moving, but the power of Roland's magic made the two figures appear lifelike with their details. Roland didn't know if Sean would immediately recognize them, as he had no idea Sean's contact with his family since being imprisoned, but to Roland, they were unmistakable: The smaller figure was a perfect recreation of Aoife Moffett, Sean's daughter, while the other was none other than Karen Moffett, his estranged wife. Both of them seemed to have been rendered by a great sculptor, their details were so perfect, as every crease and fold of their robes and skin was on display in their miniature form.

"Do you know who those two are?" Roland asked as he slid his wand back into his cane. They were facing toward Sean so that he could see them completely.

"I could say the same for you." Sean replied, his mind beginning to emerge from the fog that had plagued it for the past 12 years. "Don't act like you're better than me because you got away with your crimes." The fog had begun to return, causing Sean to hold his head with one hand as he tried to sort his thoughts out and tell this man exactly what he thought.

As much as he hated to admit it, Roland Dylanis was right. Sean had no where to go. If he went to the Prophet with his story, even if they did take the word of a former Death Eater and supporter over the word of a highly respected former head of the American Magical Law Enforcement like Dylanis, the American Magical Government would no doubt want him dead if they ever found out the circumstances behind the Dylanis' deaths.

Sean managed to refocus as two miniature figures appeared. While watching the taller one become more and more recognizable, Sean saw his estranged wife, Karen in miniature metal form.

'She's older...He must have seen her recently. But who-' It all came crashing to Sean. The pregnancy, Karen's elation, going to St. Mungo's together, the speculation as to whether it was a boy or a girl.

Sean remained silent for a good few minutes. He then said, "A girl...Karen wanted a girl. That's good." He nodded to himself.

It was clear that Sean had little to no contact with his family since being imprisoned, and probably even earlier than that. This accomplished one of Roland's goals with today's little visit, at least. It was probable that the man didn't even know his daughters name! His smile was a bit more broad, now, and appeared a good deal more sinister as he leaned forward now and appeared more intense than before, though his polite, grandfatherly tone of voice remained.

"Indeed. You should hear some of the things little Aoife gets up to at school, Sean," Roland said, remembering some of the letters Rou had written him from Hogwarts, "She's quite the free spirit." He reached out and picked up the miniature of Aoife, his gaze now fixed to it as he turned it in his hands so Sean could get a full look at how she took after her father. "I wonder what it must have been like for her, having to grow up without her father there to love her and care for her like her mother has. Tell me, Sean, when you sent out those Snatchers, what exactly was going through your head at the time? Did you never stop to ponder how convenient the information you received was?"

'Aoife. That's her name.' Sean thought, still staring at the figure of her. 'Did Karen really name her? What was the last name she had talked about...Elizabeth?' He refocused once Roland began to speak again. As he spoke, Sean's face took on an expression of growing horror. It was truly amazing how Sean had become protective of his daughter in such a short amount of time. At least, protective enough to be afraid of how Roland knew what Aoife was doing at school.

Then came the rushing feelings of guilt. The feelings that have plagued Sean from the day he was incarcerated. The man who abandoned his wife to a war torn country. The man who knew his wife was pregnant, but left anyway. The man who valued work over everything, even when it cost him the people he loved and eventually, his freedom.

"It...It would have been hard for them. I was making all of the money. Karen was a foreigner and had just immigrated to be with me. I promised her I would take time off of work once the baby was born so she could find a job." Sean said, a part of him wondering why he was opening up to this man. But the truth was, Sean had no one to turn to.

'No one to talk to, except him. Well I'll talk. If I don't, I'll probably go insane from keeping this in.' He thought before speaking.

"I thought what I always thought when I sent snatchers out, nothing. They weren't my family. I just didn't think. I didn't think that I was sentencing muggleborns to death by sending out the snatchers. I just didn't think." Sean said, sounding disgusted with himself.

"Indeed. If you had thought a bit more about your family, for once, then you wouldn't have gotten such a strong sentence, no?" Roland said, his smirk's sinister nature now become more taunting, as he knew that doing so would just agonize this man who'd suffered so much, "Think about it: If you hadn't sided with the Ministry and aided the Death Eaters like you did, you would have been there for your daughter. You wouldn't have been there for me to contact, and thus it would have been some other, probably more deserving, soul in this prison and not you. Either that, or maybe I wouldn't have been able to contact anyone at the Ministry that night, and thus the family whose blood is on your hands would never have died. They would still be alive and you would have been there to see your daughter grow up instead of rotting in prison with a wife who hates you."

Roland set the figure of Aoife back down and looked back into Sean's eyes.

"Your crimes led to the deaths of many Muggleborn men, women, and children during the Voldemort Crisis. I may be a lot of things, Sean," Roland said, acknowledging what he knew Sean was thinking, "but Blood Purity is a subject of mockery in the United States. Across the pond, we see that entire practice as ridiculous Old World nonsense. And you got yourself caught up in the thick of it; You were an overeager and ambitious young man who thought that he could shoot up the ranks and get personal favor from Voldemort himself if you brought him two major Persons of Interest. If only you'd understood the potential consequences..." Roland let the statement hang so as to further mock Sean for his foolishness.

"Nonetheless, Sean, your crimes did me a great favor that night," Roland said, grabbing the head of his cane and leaning on it in his chair, "And for that, I thank you. And as repayment for the favor you've done for me, Sean, I was able to arrange for you to be paroled. As of today, Sean Moffett, you're going to be a free man, something that I'm sure someone like Dolores Umbridge would love to have right now. You can try and be a father for your daughter, now, and see her grow into a young woman. It's something my grandson will never be able to have, thanks to you." Again, Roland was smug with his taunting, and he awaited Sean's response.

Sean wanted to yell, to scream at Roland that it wasn't true. He wanted to yell that he did love his family, but he was right. When he had left, the marriage between Karen and Sean was quickly souring. It was true that Sean gave little to no thought of how Karen would manage in a Death Eater run ministry, let alone a Death Eater run country.

'Maybe if I had just stayed one more day...We could have worked something out.' Sean thought. 'No, don't think about that now. You need to deal with this man now.'

Sean did nothing but glare at the man. He wanted nothing but to leap across the table and beat him, wand or no wand. But that most likely wouldn't go over well with the guards. Sean was broken out of his fantasy of beating Roland by the announcement that would change his life once again.

He sat there, his brain trying to catch up with what Roland had just told him. Free. The word rang through Sean's ears like the large bell he had heard when he was working in London.

"I'm free..." Sean said before his eyes became cold. "Of course with you, things always have a price. What would I be giving in exchange for my freedom?"

Sean's anger at Roland's lecture brought another smirk to the old wizard's face. It was clear that the man wanted to attack him, but Sean knew that Roland would dispose of him in no time, being in far better shape and a far more powerful wizard. Nonetheless, Sean still caught on that there might be a price for his newfound freedom. Roland's smirk disappeared as he leaned forward in his chair, his tone and expression changing to a far more horrifying and unkind demeanor, so that Sean could know that the old wizard was being serious and shedding his more publicly-known appearance.

"Every bit of freedom has a price, Sean Moffett," Roland said, his voice now dark and almost threatening in tone, "For now, consider your freedom my repayment to you for your help in that unfortunate matter. However, you are right: You will owe me for this. But for now, enjoy your newfound freedom, Sean, and when it is time for your repayment to begin, I will contact you." Roland smiled now, as his grandfatherly demeanor returned. When Roland finished speaking, two guards entered the room from the door behind the old wizard and walked over to either side of Sean. When Sean rose from his seat, his wrists were fixed with cuffs and he was led out of the visitor's room for processing.

"One more thing, Sean," Roland said right before Sean and the guards left the room, his voice retaining its earlier sinister tone despite his appearance. He picked up the figurine of Aoife that he'd set down on the table and held it out to his side so Sean could see it, "I would highly suggest against any sort of public statement to the Prophet on anything that has transpired, whether it be between you and me or me and the Ministry. If you do, the consequences of such an action," as Roland spoke, he turned his head and looked directly at the figurine, which began to disintegrate before their very eyes, "will be most dire and unfortunate..." Roland didn't finish the sentence, allowing his implication to do it for him. Without warning, Roland's hand was suddenly clutched into a fist, with the figurine of Aoife bursting into a full cloud of metal fragments and dust. Once the figurine was destroyed, Roland opened his hand to allow the pile of dust in it to fall onto the floor. Then, he drew his wand from his cane and tapped the figurine of Karen, and it melted back into the metal table that Roland had formed it from.