A/N: This is a little angsty one-shot I wrote while my muse wasn't co-operating with me for CW. I have barely read through this, to tell the truth, but enjoy anyway.
Disclaimer: Here we go again... Harry Potter characters you recognise belong to Jo Rowling, Dangerverse characters you recognise belong to Anne Walsh (::snicker:: one of them in more ways than one ::snicker::), nothing belongs to me except this idea, which is debatable, considering all the other Sirius!Azkaban fics hanging around...
Nightmares and Visions
Screams.
Howling.
Cold.
Memories, always there but always tantalisingly out of reach.
Shivers.
Screams.
Cold.
Different, unwanted memories bombarding at unwanted moments.
Darkness.
Cries.
Howling.
How long had it been? How long since he had been curled up, in this corner?
Shivers.
Darkness.
Cries.
How long since he had been left here? Left here to rot?
Screams.
Cold.
Memories.
A shadow passing by his cell door.
A tight wrenching of his gut.
His mind, tenuous, shivering, falling into the dark, writhing pit of unhappiness.
No, no, not James, not Lily, no, please, no…
He kicked his motorbike, trying to get more speed, as he flew above the fields close to Godric's Hollow, praying for the green haze he could see to clear away.
His prayers went unanswered.
"No…" he moaned aloud, the wind buffeting his face as tears leaked unabashedly out of his eyes and flew into the wind. "No…"
The Dark Mark came into sight, hovering above the place where his best friends' house should be.
Instead, it was hovering above a pile of razed timber.
"No… Merlin, please, no…"
Sirius urged his motorbike to go faster.
Was that Hagrid's large bulk he could see, moving among the rubble?
He dived, barely braking at the last second and landing with a crash at the end of the street.
The air was dusty, and he could scent the powerful magics even in his human form. He stumbled down the road, towards the green haze.
Soon, too soon, he arrived.
"No, no…" Falling to his knees, he stared at the destruction.
No…this is my fault…James…Lily…Harry…
"Sirius? What're yeh doin' here?"
"Hagrid…" Blinking back tears, Sirius looked up at the half-giant. "Dumbledore sent me…"
What was that that Hagrid was holding? A bundle of blankets…
Harry's body. His heart clenched painfully.
He was jolted back into reality as the shadow passed by his cell door.
"No…no…" He curled up into a tighter ball, whimpering an echo from his memory.
No…that's wrong…Harry's ALIVE…
Screams.
Hunger.
Cries…
Crying…yes, Harry started crying in Hagrid's arms…he's alive…
He could recall that relief had swept through him at the sound.
Relief?
A sensation in the chest…
Cold.
Hunger.
Shivering.
I'm sorry…James…Lily…Harry…Remus…Letha…
Letha.
Harry.
James.
Remus.
Lily.
Cries.
Harry.
Remus.
Howling.
Shivering.
Letha.
Hungry.
Harry.
Cries.
Shivering.
Darkness.
"You," snarled James, portions of his face already rotting. "You sold us out, Sirius." He aimed a kick at Sirius' stomach, and he fell to the floor, wheezing.
"'Switch Secret-Keepers', you said," continued Lily. She was missing one eye from her similarly rotting face, and the cutting sneer quotes were obvious. "'It's another level of security—he'll never get to you'." She stroked one, soft rotting finger down his cheek before slapping him, hard, leaving trails of he-didn't-want-to-know down his face. "Traitor," she hissed, "you and Peter, the two of you collaborating from the start."
"You probably planned all this out," said James, "everything mapped out at your cozy little Death Eater meetings. Then, for backup, you recruited Peter as well, just to flesh out your plan and include someone else…"
"No…" Sirius moaned, averting his eyes away from his best friends' accusing, decaying face. "I didn't… no…"
'I didn't do it, it wasn't me'," mocked James. "You're losing your touch, Sirius. You could make up much better stories back in school, or don't you remember? Maybe you had been making it all up, another day in the act…"
"No…" Sirius could only slump on the ground, unable to look up at James and Lily's vindictive faces.
"What's the matter? Lost your tongue?" A third, scathing voice pierced through his mind, and he had no trouble placing it.
Oh Merlin…Letha…no…
He felt her hand slap the side of his head. "Sit up," she hissed. "I want to see you properly."
"No…" he moaned, "please… no…"
Her strong, Beaters' hands hit him again around his body. "Sit up!" she screamed in his ear.
Painfully, he raised his head, and immediately flinched back.
No…that's not Letha…
Her face was twisted in an expression of such hatred and anger. He'd never seen it like that before.
"You traitor," she spat in his face. She hauled him up by the collar and threw him back down again. "I thought you loved me. I really thought you did…at least something can be said about your acting skills."
"I do," Sirius croaked out suddenly. "I do love you…"
Aletha slapped him again. "Liar!" she shouted.
The word seemed to reverberate around his mind.
Liar…
Liar…
Lily's cold tones, speaking from her face already ravaged by time, spoke over the echoing tones.
"You must have enjoyed this enormously," she said to him. "Acting like the brave, rebellious pureblood, befriending Mudbloods and muggle-lovers…then betraying them at the last minute. Traitor," she spat out finally.
Traitor…
Liar…
"How long had you been working for him?" James asked now, pushing his hideous face into Sirius' line of vision. "How long had you been plotting everything out? It can't have been easy, perfecting everything to all this detail. I commend you, the hard-working double-crosser…"
Double-crosser.
Liar.
Traitor.
Liar.
Double-crosser.
Traitor.
Liar…
"NOO!" Sirius screamed, trying to drown out the words, mingling and meshing in his mind, each spoken by the cold, angry, hating tones of the people he had considered to be his closest friends…
Warmth.
Light.
He sat up, confused. The sun was shining overhead, and all around was a sea of green grass.
Last thing I remember…a nightmare. Lily, James and Letha…
He picked a blade of grass, frowning at it.
I should be in Azkaban. No, wait, I am in Azkaban.
So I'm dreaming.
Why am I dreaming of sunshine and daisies?
"Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humour yet," said someone from behind him, "but then again, you've only been in for a day."
Sirius whirled around to look at the speaker. "Who're you?"
The man raised both his arms as if he were going to be searched. "Take a look, and take a guess."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, then scrutinized the man he could see in front of him. He was wearing green robes, which blended in quite nicely with the surrounding grass, and he had black hair and green eyes.
"Unless you're my godson from the future, I give up," he said finally.
The other man laughed. "No, I'm not Harry Potter from twenty or so years on, and even though you're not going to remember this dream, I can't tell you who I am if you don't figure it out yourself. I can promise you, though, that this isn't a nightmare and I'm not going to do you any harm."
"That's always good to know," Sirius said, finding himself relaxing in this man's company.
Although it might be the first friendly talk I've heard in twenty-four hours.
It feels like so much longer, though.
"So, if I'm not going to remember this, what is the point of this dream, wonderful as it may be?" he said aloud.
"I've just been sent to give you a pep talk," replied the mysterious man, stretching out.
"Do elaborate."
"Okay. Main thing is, don't give up. There's stuff happening out there, and sooner or later the world is going to look a good deal brighter than it does now. Or should I say, than it will when you wake up."
"Thanks for reminding me," Sirius said dryly.
"And the other thing," the man went on, ignoring Sirius' comment, "is use a coping mechanism. You've got a good strong mind, and together with at least two other factors, I'm pretty sure you'll come out of this relatively unharmed."
"Come out of this? I've been sentenced for life."
"That's what you think. Anyway, last thing. Good memories don't work, as I'm sure you've gathered. Just think of something stimulating, but nothing that can be taken from you."
"Such as?"
"Your innocence. Start with that."
Sirius sighed. "I won't even ask how you know I'm innocent."
"I know everything."
"'Course you do."
"'Course I do. Anyway, I've reached the time limit, so you've got to go…"
"Can't I stay?" Sirius' tone was wistful.
"I'm sorry." The man was genuinely apologising. "Oh, hang on, you'll need to remember this…" He scooted forwards, putting a hand atop Sirius' head. "Think things over with your other self; you'll sort through things better."
"My other self?" repeated Sirius, bemused. "What other self?"
"You'll understand," the man said vaguely. "And now you've really got to go. You won't remember this, except from what you need to. I'm sorry."
"I really would like to stay here," Sirius sighed, looking around. His gaze finally fell on the other man again. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
The scene around them faded away.
Darkness.
Cold.
Shivering.
Sirius Black opened one eye in the corner of his cell in Azkaban before the memories from his nightmare hit him.
Liar…
Double-crosser…
Traitor…
"No…" he moaned again, unable to draw his knees up higher into his chest.
Can't I remember anything better? Letha's face…
Only the snarling, vicious mask came to the forefront of his mind. Even as he tried to single out the parts that were decidedly Letha, they faded away, leaving him with only the emotions.
No…
I can't do this, he thought to himself, I'm going mad in here, I can't cope…
He was despairing. Giving up. He had always gone on in the past, because there was always something to fight for. But now… there was nothing.
Nothing at all.
There was nothing good for him to remember, at all. There was nobody to see, nobody to talk to…
The phrase triggered an unknowing reaction in his mind. He let it come at it's own pace.
There's nothing else to do, after all.
Soon, the sentence emerged.
"Talk to your other self…"
He snorted.
Real helpful. What other self? No one but me here. Sirius Black, born 1959, also known as Padfoot…
His train of thought halted.
Padfoot…my animagus form…my other form…my other self.
Can I still do the transformation?
Well, he had nothing but time. He could try.
Thinking hard about what it felt like to be a dog, he imagined the changes taking over his body as it used to do so naturally. Being in prison seemed to drain him somewhat, but when he opened his eyes he could see with the welcome clarity of his animagus form.
He sneezed.
It smells like death and decay here…and madness and misery…
Well, it sums up Azkaban pretty well.
He flopped down on the pile of straw in the corner, staring desolately at the bars.
Cage?
asked his dog side.Yes, I guess so,
he said back.Trapped?
Sirius snorted. Caught in a trap of my own doing.
The dog was sympathetic. Walked into trap of the Pack?
Walked right into the trap of the traitor.
Dog instinct didn't understand betrayal, Sirius realised, so he had to explain, in roundabout terms, the rough definition of the term.
Traitor one do wrong?
it asked.Yes, traitor one did a lot of wrong,
Sirius answered. Traitor one faithful to other Pack now.Sirius answered.The dog was confused. No Pack-member should go over to another Pack willingly. It was unheard of.
Traitor one joined hunting Pack, Sirius went on to say.
The dog sorted through the predicament, and came to its own conclusion. Traitor one's fault. Not yours. Traitor one did wrong, you got caught in trap.
Well, that's nice and simple, isn't it, I'm innocent. Very nice to hear.
It was just then that he noticed something. He hadn't been affected by the Dementors as much since he'd transformed.
Heh. I guess animals aren't affected so much.
I may survive this after all.
A/N: Enjoyed? Hated? Review!