Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, it would be me that's rich and famous. As it is, JK Rowling is the ultimate HP Goddess and I bow down to her greatness. She is the clever one, while I just have delusions of grandeur. I am so not worthy.
I Won't Give Up
Greywolf25
"Betrayer!"
"Murderer!"
"I hope you get the kiss for this, Scum!"
Those words spin around in my head day in day out. There is no reprieve. The hairs stand up on the back of my neck and I can hear the death rattle of the Dementors breathing as they approach the cage that is my home. I shudder as the cold seeps into my bones. The voices get louder and the wails and screams of those incarcerated around me increase. I sense rather than see the Azkaban guard look through the portal in my cell door and waves of despair and misery wash over me. An eternity passes and the feeling fades, but never truly goes. All the joy and happiness that I had, has long since gone.
A scrape draws my attention to the door. A bowl of gruel is unceremoniously shoved through the gap. I look at it in disgust. I may have been locked up for twelve years and beggars can't be choosers, but even I have standards. The gruel has definitely got worse over the years. I get up slowly from my 'bed' and walk to the door. Not seeing anyone, I transform. The relief is instantaneous. The cold still seeps into my bones and I can still hear the voices. But my fur suppresses the cold and my dog brain makes little sense of the voices. Thus, the torment is tolerable. I can even tolerate the food my captors so generously provide.
I eat the gruel then stretch luxuriously. I trot over to the mat in the corner and after circling for a few seconds; I curl into a ball and try to sleep.
Xx Sirius's Dream xX
I face the betrayer in the street. He has a smug look on his face. I point my wand at him not caring about the muggles that have gathered around us. He rearranges his face so he looks distraught. The liar even squeezes a few tears out.
'James and Lily, Sirius. How could you?'
BOOOM!!
The whole street explodes and the true betrayer vanishes in a cloud of dust and debris. I can't help myself and start laughing hysterically as Aurors and Obliviators apparate to the scene.
I jerk awake. A howl begs to be released. It is the same dream I see, every night. The screams from those around me press in on me from all sides. Even as a dog I feel claustrophobic so I transform back into a human. Sitting with my back to the wall, I draw my knees in. Something tickles my cheek and reaching up, I am surprised to find tears. They are a long forgotten friend. I haven't cried in years.
I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath. I stand up and look through the bars that constitute my window. I can see the dementors gliding past and I shudder as the odd one comes a little too close. Through the fog sunlight is vague, but it is there. Oh, to feel the heat of the sun on my face. Just once more. My attention returns to my door again. Across the corridor I can hear my deranged cousin screaming and shouting for her Lord and Master. A snort escapes my throat. And people though I was mad? Bellatrix always was two spells short of a textbook.
I let a sigh escape. I really hate how things have turned out. Things started off so well too. I was the first Black to be sorted into Gryffindor, my friends and I were the prankster kings of Hogwarts, and my old hag of a mother all but disowned me. Living with the Potters was definitely one of the highlights in my life. But that's where the fun ended.
James and Lily, along with Frank and Alice Longbottom, had to go into hiding due to a prophecy. We were constantly looking over our shoulders, as we knew there was a traitor in our midst. Little did we know. That's when the bottom fell out of my life. James and Lily are dead. Harry is Merlin only knows where. At least he survived. Due to the fact I was James Potter's best mate, everyone thinks it was me that betrayed them to old Moldyshorts.
But I know the truth. Thinking back, (that's about all I can do in this hell hole,) it should have been glaringly obvious from the start. But, of course, you don't like to think that your friends will turn on you, do you?
XxxxxxX
I stand at the door, watching the insanity that is my life pass by. Twelve years I have sat here knowing the truth. Twelve long, torturous years unable to do a damn thing about it. You see, when you 'murder' thirteen people and you 'betray' your best friend and his family to the resident nutter of a dark lord, you lose all credibility. All rights are denied. Hell, I wasn't even given the right to a fair trial.
Anger courses through my veins. I want to scream at the injustice of it all. That's definitely one thing that had surprised me. Any normal person would have succumbed to madness. In the years I have been incarcerated in Azkaban, I have seen many people come and go. (Go insane, I mean.) Some people have even died behind these walls. Yet, for some reason, I have maintained my sanity.
Just thinking about that rat Pettigrew living it up, a free man, and well to say it pisses me off would be an understatement. Maybe that's why I am still sane. I know one thing though; I won't give up until my name has been cleared. I won't quit until justice has been dished out to that smug rat faced bastard.
I shiver, knowing full well that it's not just my anger making me shake. The cold North Sea winds howl through the prison, bringing with it the smell of despair and death. I sit back down and hug my knees. Time has no meaning here. One day melts into another without a discernable seam. There is nothing to do, except look at the four slime-covered walls. Meals are fed; guards torment us by making us relive our worst memories. Screams echo all around and there is no respite. Sometimes I feel like adding my own scream to the Azkaban opera, but I hold it in. I refuse to succumb to the madness that will surely follow.
'Betrayer!'
'Murderer!'
I shake my head violently, trying to dislodge the voices. The Dementors must be doing their rounds again. I can't bear it any longer so I transform. Life seems less harsh as a dog, and luckily, the guards can't tell. I curl up, trying to keep warm, as the cold has permeated into the stone. The odd snowflake drifts though the bars of my window. That can only mean one thing. The Dementors are getting excited.
A shudder ripples through my canine form. Someone is getting the kiss. A high-pitched scream cuts through the air, making my hackles rise. As quickly as it starts, the scream abruptly stops. I tuck my nose under my paws, trying to forget what I have just heard. Unfortunately, screams like that have been becoming more frequent. I just hope they don't come for me next.
XxxxxxX
I have no other choice. I have to get out of here. I can feel myself giving in to the madness. Even as Padfoot I can feel the insanity reaching out to me, trying to coax me into its embrace. I pace my small cell, slipping occasionally on the damp stone floor. I can't give up. I mustn't give up. I alternate forms trying to stay alert. Trust me when I say, 'It ain't easy.'
"You will all pay for this! My Lord knows I am his most faithful servant. I will be rewarded while you scum will be wiped from the face of the Earth! I…"
"Oh shut up you barmy, insane hag!"
I know I shouldn't react to my cousin's rantings, but she is really starting to get on my wick. More voices drift to me and I look up at my door as a face appears in the portal.
"Up against the wall."
I quickly obey, knowing full well the reward for failing to comply. The door creaks open and who should walk in but the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge himself. I have to really suppress the urge to throttle him as he has a good nosy at my living conditions. A spark of recognition flickers in his eyes. Oh yeah, he knows who I am. He clears his throat a few times. I look down at my feet to hide the smirk on my face.
"So, er... Mr Black…" Oh, I'm Mr Black am I? "How do you find your living quarters?"
He makes it sound like a holiday camp. The Auror behind the Minister points his wand at me, making it clear they expect an answer from me. So of course, I comply. I have no reason not to. Across the corridor, Bellatrix is continuing her rant and an Auror stalks to her cell and sends a stunner her way. I bark out a laugh and Fudge gives me a funny look. Remembering my manners like my mother taught me, I explain.
"I mean no disrespect, Minister. It's just she has been doing my head in all day. And in answer to your question, I find my living quarters to be a wee bit drafty."
The Aurors and Fudge look at me strangely. It only takes me a minute to realise why. I was supposed to be insane, yet here I was, conversing with the Minister of Magic, as sane as the next person. Ok, ok, I know that's a bad example to use considering my current situation, but you know what I mean. I start to tune the visitors out when I see the headline of the Daily Prophet. Throwing caution to the wind I ask:
"Excuse me sir, but have you finished with the paper? I miss doing the crossword."
He looked at me for a moment before handing me the paper. I thanked him and sat on my bed. To all intents and purposes, they ceased to exist in my mind. On the front page was a family that seemed familiar to me. They all waved at me from the page. I look hard and see him. There on one of the children's shoulders, was Wormtail. That sneaky bastard had found a home with a wizarding family. I quickly read the passage and find what I am looking for.
"He's at Hogwarts."
"Excuse me, did you say something?"
I look up, and realise that I have said it aloud. I mentally berate myself and try to look neutral.
"No, Minister, never said a word."
Both the Aurors and Fudge look at me hard before exiting the cell. I breathe a sigh of relief and turn back to the paper. The smarmy git was with the Weasley's. I remember them now. Well, I remember Mr and Mrs from the first war. Reading the article again, I quickly learn that five of the Weasley's attend Hogwarts, and I know full well that Harry will be in attendance.
"He's at Hogwarts." My voice sounds loud in my ears and I look to the door in time to see a shadow move across the portal.
'Stop being so damn vocal, Sirius!' I tell myself. A plan begins to form in my mind. I just need the opportunity to execute it. I transform again. The Dementors glide past my cell at regular intervals, but they seem unaware of the change. This will definitely work to my advantage. I have to stay alert; nothing will stop me if I can pull this off. I let myself drift to sleep, knowing that either way, my torment is coming to an end.
XxxxxxX
My ears prick up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Breathing deep I can smell the guard approach. There is an underlying smell of stale sweat and fear. I stalk to the door and wait. The hesitant footsteps approach with even my caution. Across the way, Bellatrix is ranting. I hear a muffled scrape and she shuts up. It's feeding time. My bowl is pushed under the door and the guard moves on. I quickly ate the food, knowing time is of the essence.
I shudder as a wave of cold air comes my way. The voices begin calling, so I shake my head and my long ears hit me across the face. The misery I feel is at an all time high. The Dementor is just out side my door and I have to suppress my doggy urges to growl and snarl. My heart quickens as the door begins to swing open. This is it. My only chance and I take it. Well, I ain't a fool.
Sneaking past the ghoulish creature is the easy part. Now I just have to find my way out of this hellhole. I lift my nose to the air and sniff deeply. Over the usual scent I could smell the saltiness of the sea. Making my way in that direction, I only have to hide twice as people come my way. The briny smell increases the further I go and my heart quickens with anticipation, and then… Freedom.
I nearly lost all sense of myself at that moment. I very nearly changed back into my human form. I mentally slapped myself. Well, I can't do it for real, remember, I've only got paws. I pick my way over the slimy, seaweed covered rocks to the shore. The sun chooses this moment to put in an appearance. I raise my furry head and feel the vague warmth on my face. I am definitely taking this as an omen. A good one.
The wind drops and so I take the plunge. Literally. The water is so cold my joints instantly ache. The magnitude of my task hits me as I realise how far I actually have to swim. The water is so bloody cold; the chill wraps around me and constricts my chest so I find it hard to breathe. I just hope I don't cramp up. Well there's nothing for it. I just have to go for it. Paws crossed, I'll make the crossing, if not, well, I'm sure I'll see my best friend once more.
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Suggestions, comments, complaints? Let me know. I can't change anything if you don't tell me about it.
Insults and useless criticism will be fed to Padfoot.
Thanks for reading.
