Fall from Grace
By Aviendha
Authors Note: OK now, being the person responsible for this I feel you poor readers deserve an explanation. Yes, I know it's about a 9.0 on the corny cheese-o-meter, but please try and send no flames. It's my first time writing a finfic (that's right, start running). So pleeaassse try and be nice. I wanted to write something about Sirius Black, my favorite character, and I finally worked up the courage to post it, so here it is.
"In a moment we lost out minds here
And dreamt the world was round
A million mile fall from grace
Thank God we missed the ground"
-Live, run to the Water
A storm was coming. Despite the lack of windows or even a hairline crack in the wall to connect him to the outside world, Sirius Black could sense it coming. He was sprawled on his back over the filthy pallet he used for sleeping. Feeling the unearthly wave of depression as a dementor glided past his door, he fought off the urge to transform into a dog. There had been an unusual amount of activity around him this morning and he preferred that no one discover his little secret.
This much liveliness in Azkaban could mean only one thing. The Minster of Magic's yearly inspection. Had it been a year already?
He had stopped keeping track of the time when he had given up hope that he would ever get out. In the first few weeks of his imprisonment, he had hopped against hope that the mistake would be realized and that they would understand they had gotten the wrong man. It had never happened. Slowly, over the months, he had lost hope. Then he had started to try to kill himself. He tried everything he could think of. Unfortunately, there weren't many options open to him. He tried starving himself by not eating, but found it impossible when food was placed before him, no matter how revolting. In a fit of despair he tried banging his head against the wall. He even tried to strangle himself, but all that happened was he lost conciseness and wasted all that energy for nothing. No, there was no escaping Azkaban. Not for anyone.
It was a horrible place beyond description, Azkaban. It was a huge fortress cut into the rock on a island just off the mainland. From that land, it looked like the top of some huge mountain that had been nipped of and placed on an island. It was guarded by the most vile creatures on the planet: dementors. Soul-suckers themselves, they caused the halls and corridors to reek with a threat worse then death.
But the dementors were not the worst part of living in Azkaban, Sirius thought. It was the company he kept, the people he was exposed to. He was in the middle of the maximum-security hall, surrounded by the world's worst criminals, most of them having past been close assistants of Voldemort's. It was terrible, having insane, evil people his only connection to the human race. What was worse, some of them (the ones who were once more deeply involved with Voldemort), knew. Knew that he was innocent. They had known all along, the whole story behind Peter and the Fidelous Charm, but couldn't and wouldn't help him. People knew that he was innocent but it did nothing for him. That, above all, almost caused Sirius to go insane.
Today, though, was different. Today, for some few minutes, the hall would clear of the dementor guards as the minister came by. That's what was happening now; they were all leaving. Sirius got to his feet and went to the small, bared window at the front of his cell. He waited. Then he heard the door open. He watched as Cornileius Fudge and the Azkaban supervisor, Valon Sandar made their way down the hall, stopping occasionally to peer into a cell.
As they walked closer to him, Sirius's eyes were drawn to a copy of The Daily Prophet tucked under Fudge's arm. How long had he been in here? He wondered what had happened while he was stuck in this damn prison? As they drew closer, he spoke up.
"Minster Fudge?" It came out more of a croak, so he tried it again.
"Minster Fudge?" It worked better this time. Fudge drew closer, trying to recognize the man behind the bars.
"Sirius Black", Sirius said helpfully.
"Ah, Black", Fudge said, drawing back slightly.
"Minster, I was wondering… if you are done with it… could I have your paper?" Sirius asked hopefully.
Sandar frowned, but Fudge stepped forward again. "I don't see what harm it could possibly do. Open the door, Valon."
Sandar grudgingly took out his wand and performed the spell to open the door a crack. Fudge slipped the paper through. Almost before it had left his hand, Sirius was walking back to his bed, unfolding the paper, pausing only to mutter a low "thank you" over his shoulder. Once he returned to his bed, he began devouring the paper. He noticed the date and did the math. Almost twelve years!! It felt like twenty.
With his newfound voice, he flipped through, muttering to himself and taking it all in. "Let's see, muggle discovered enchanted wizard's hat… new and used wands for sale.. lost Glyph, answers to the name of 'Lleu', if found, please return to…Ministry of Magic Employee Scoops Grand Prize… Sirius read the caption on the last one and glanced down at the picture. A large, red headed family waved back at him from in front of a pyramid.
Ministry of Magic Employee
Scoops Grand Prize
Author Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.
A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where out eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank."
The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.
As his eyes moved from face to face, they came to rest on one of the younger boys.
No, not on the boy. On what was on his shoulder.
Sirius froze. Clinging to the boys shoulder was a small gray rat. On its front paw it was missing a toe. This wasn't just any rat. He thought back to all the times he had seen that rat. To the last time he had seen it.
Peter. Peter Pettigrew.
He tried to control his rage. Rage at being trapped, helpless, rage at the great injustices that had been done to him, rage at the man he had thought was his friend, but at the first offer of personal gain had destroyed everything Sirius held dear. He took a deep breath and forced himself back to Earth. Think, he told himself. The caption had said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts. Hogwarts… Peter's plan suddenly clicked in Sirius's head. Harry. Harry, his best friend's son, must be in Hogwarts now. Peter was waiting for Voldemort to regain power again. When he did, Peter was perfectly positioned to take action and deliver Harry to the dark lord at the first hint of his returning force.
Sirius surpassed a scream. Peter, out there, free and unknown, ready to help should the Dark Lord return to power and take revenge. Sirius, stuck in a living hell, with now way out. Silently, he fought back his rage and rising panic. He just needed to get out. Get out, escape, and then he could warn everyone, save Harry. He almost laughed at that. Escape? Out of the worst feared prisons in the world? Past the dementors? Past the bars? Past the ocean?
Yup, thought Sirius grimly. Past it all.
* * * * *
It was late in the night. Or at least Sirius thought it was, he couldn't be sure. After cooling down from the previous outburst over the paper, Sirius had been able to think more clearly. Enough to devise a plan, anyway. If you could call it that, he had thought, dejectedly. After mulling over his situation he had watched Fudge and Sandar come back through the hall. He had thought, as they walked by, should he try and tell Fudge? Warn him something was up? But he knew the answer before finishing the question. He didn't believe him before, why would he believe him now?
So he just stood, watching, as they walked to the door at the end of the hall.
"Hurry, Minister, you must leave before the storm breaks", Sandar said, fumbling for his wand to open the door at the end of the hall. Sirius listened carefully; this was important.
"Exitus sic!!"
The door swung open and Sandar and Fudge disappeared through it. He heard it close and the muffled closing spell. Now he had nothing to do but wait.
That had been hours ago. He had crouched in the corner by the door since then, still waiting. He felt the dementors take their places again and the temperature dropping as night fell. He could feel the storm getting closer.
Then, just when he thought this might be one of those nights when the prisoners wouldn't be feed, he heard the door open and the food cart being wheeled in. He listened as a dementor walked to each cell individually, handing out small portions of water and some indeterminable substance in a bowl. Twelve years in Azkaban and he still didn't know what that brown stuff he choked down every morning and night was.
His muscles tensed as he heard the soft shuffling footsteps of the dementor carrying his dinner approach. No, not tonight. It wouldn't be his dinner tonight. If everything went smoothly he would never have to eat that stuff again. If everything went badly he would never get to eat that stuff again either.
Now, now was the time, the bar across his door was being raised. Sirius inched closer to the door and got ready to end it all, one way or another.
* * * * *
Authors note: Sorry about the little cliffhanger. I'll continue this and make it into a series if the reviews are good, so please make use of the little box at the bottom of the screen and tell me what ya think. Constructive criticism only please, no flames. Thanks for taking the time to read! Double thanks if you take the time to review!!
Disclaimer: I'm not making any money off of this (that would be neat though…). All these characters belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling of course. I have merely borrowed them to entertain my own sick mind. Oh, except for Valon Sandar, he's mine, but I don't really want him.
The song Run to the Water belong to Live, and Lleu the glyph belongs to Ebony Edison, if you happen to find him.