Tenebrae and Torch
Author's Note- This theme is one used by many authors greater then myself. It's the guilty pleasure of Harry Potter writers that are a fan of Sirius Black. It's like time-travel fics for the Final Fantasy VII fandom, because you've seen it done before, seen Sirius escape from prison and have a happy home with Harry after the callous use of a potion that reveals the truth. Well, I don't aim to go through things that way, so I hope I'm not as predictable as many other stories, no matter how excellent those stories were. As usual, certain elements are required for everyone to stay in character, so there will be some elements you'll notice that are common (obviously the escape from Azkaban stuff has to happen). The title roughly means "Darkness and Light".
My author's notes aren't usually this tedious, but I will admit the prologue is meant to be short. Every other chapter besides this one will be at least 2000 words, with an average of about 4000, sometimes 5000. I expect the story to be at least 40,000 words, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, reviews, as always, are appreciated. I admit that the prologue might seem a bit slow, but things pick up shortly. Also, there will be violence. Sirius will do bad things. There will be Death Eaters. My final warning, and the one that should be most heeded? There will be Umbridge.
Against my better judgement I am posting this with only a few chapters complete. However, I have a very clear idea of where I am going. This is a "gen" fic, meaning only canon pairings at the time. So no Siri/Rem beyond friendship, sorry for youshippers.
As they say, "Do your thing, Dirty Harry." So without further ado, let's begin!
The Dementors are the foulest creatures to walk the earth. They feed on every happy memory, every emotion, until there's nothing left. ~Remus Lupin
Tenebrae and Torch
Prologue
"Flight and Freedom"
The island shuddered as the ever-present gales crashed outside. The entire island was shrouded in an air of angst and despair, threatening to shatter the morale of any sane creature on the island. The occupants weren't safe from the storm, each cell had bars that covered the window. The bars did little to protect them from the water that poured through the window, only prolonging the misery of the inmates as they waited for their eventual fate to come to hand- the lingering insanity that would end their life in a Kiss.
Over three-quarters of the Azkaban cells were filled, most of them from the war with Voldemort- or, as they called their master, the Dark Lord- but a few here and there were for other crimes, usually along the lines of dark artifacts, smuggling, murder, and other crimes that haunted every society. All but one was guilty of the crimes that they had been accused of, and often they were guilty of far more crimes that couldn't be proved. However, one man was accused of crimes that he had never dreamed of committing.
This one man had been in here since Voldemort's demise. He had gone for a week, being sought by authorities, as he chased down his former childhood friend. Blinded by rage, he had cornered his friend and confronted him with the betrayal of his friends. However, the entire thing was a set-up. When his friend- Peter Pettigrew, the name still made him wince when he thought about it, which wasn't very often these days- had framed him and escaped, the convict had laughed when all the pieces fell into place.
Throwing away his dark memories and dismal thoughts with difficulty, after all, the Dementors were there for a reason, Sirius Black stood, his muscles shaking as he managed to fight his way to his feet. The monsters that ghosted along his corridors retreated for the first time in hours, days even, maybe weeks, there was no time measurement here, and the prisoner of Azkaban made his move.
The lighting flashed across the darkness outside, blinding everyone who had been staring at the sky. The light vanished, leaving guards and every sane inmate blinking their eyes to clear it. There was total darkness, and in that brief window of time, the scarred prisoner was gone, no longer human, but a mangy black mutt.
When the Dementors passed an hour later, the skinny dog shuddered and took a step back, giving a small whine before they finished ghosting by.
The feeling of numb, icy terror faded slightly, and Padfoot took the opportunity to slip through the bars, his tag giving a slight wag as he ghosted through the halls and exited the prison.
Padfoot was free, free of the prison, of the Dementors, free of the ministry officials checking to make sure he hadn't escaped. The wizard had slipped the noose, and now he could hide. The dog padded silently towards the crashing waves and gave a small shiver. He noticed a small bundle of wood that must have been used at some point to keep the guards warm. However, it would float and keep him alive until he found himself on shore. Padfoot blinked at the bundle and grabbed the rope securing it in his teeth before he dragged it behind him. When Padfoot reached the edge of the rocky outcropping he pushed his small life-raft off the cliffs. For a moment he just stared at it, a small whimper escaping his throat. However, he knew that if he waited, it would float away and he would be trapped. Bravely, his hesitation over, he leapt off the rock, flinging himself into the waves.
The dark dog bravely fought the crashing current until he found himself too weak to carry on. He might be free, but he was still in danger. The waves were sweeping him under water now, and it would be easy to just slip below the current, to let the dark waters wash over his head, to let the dangerous waves pull him under until he couldn't survive any longer. However, Padfoot fought it, a snarl coming out of his throat as he found himself next to the bundle. He dragged his sodden body out of the current and onto the floating wood before he let himself collapse.
Too tired to keep fighting, the dog laid his head down, his dark eyes disappearing as he closed them. He shivered slightly, but was too tired to fight the cold. Instead, he drifted off into a worn out and deadened sleep.
Discidium
Padfoot gave a low whine as he awoke, still bobbing gently on the sea. The waves were calm now, and the only thing he could do was wait until he reached a shore. The man in the shape of a dog wasn't sure what to do- would he go after that useless swine, Peter Pettigrew, that had killed his friends? Or would he find his last remaining friend, Remus, and beg for his help? There was a third option, to find his godson, but that one made Padfoot hesitate. The boy, Harry, would only be eight or nine, at most, and he was probably living a happy life.
However, Padfoot- he reminded himself with difficulty his own name, Sirius- couldn't go see Remus. The wizard was likely to hex him if he appeared out of the blue to greet him. Padfoot gave a low whine. He knew that if he went after Wormtail, the traitor would get some Death Eater friends to hex him worse than Remus would.
Padfoot barked. The moon was up after he had slept the day away, and he realized there was a week and a half until the full moon. The Animagus gave a low whimper at the thought of Moony going through the transformation alone. He conveniently forgot that the werewolf had been doing that for at least seven years, give or take a few, and instead he worried.
Padfoot scrambled for a foothold- pawhold, whatever- as a wave nearly overturned him. The escaped convict growled and stood, seeing a shoreline begin to emerge with the sun.
That settled it. The dog turned a small circle on his craft, and let out a low whine. If he managed to make it to Moony's residence before the full moon, he'd give the werewolf his company for one night. After that, he wasn't sure what he'd do.
However, first he had to make a detour.
It was time that a very lovable stray went to the Ministry of Magic, and had a peek at some records.
End of Prologue
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