Eugene had been woken up the usual time in prison. Stupidly early!. He had gotten up washed, made his bed and eaten his breakfast. He'd done his laps around the yard like every single inmate that was before and after him in that prison.

He sat on the edge of his bed. The wounds from his previous beating at the hands of the screws were more tender than ever. This wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last before the end of his final year and he would be realised back to the depths of whitby.

He stood up holding his ribs when his door clicked and the small hatch opened "longbottom, hands through the door" he placed his hands through the door and was cuffed before stepping back to allow the screw to open the door. He was then led to the medical room before being told to sit and wait.