A/N: Hi! New story! This is just a oneshot series that I'll update whenever I'm sick of MWPJ and Namesake, so don't expect this to be regular. But please R&R!

Disclaimer:

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.

More info below. Onwards!

Chapter 1: Crossword Puzzles

Overall, Cornelius Fudge loved his job. Absolutely — being Minister for Magic was all of his dream fulfilled! He was at the top of the ladder, the ruler of wizarding Britain. And he hardly had any responsibility. He knew he was a pawn of Lucius Malfoy, but he was happy to push the decisions of to someone else if it meant that he could stay the figurehead without even appearing to be nothing but a figure head. Yes, Cornelius loved his job. Almost every aspect of it was perfect; amazing.

Almost.

But this part? He hated it.

It was time for the Minister's annual obligatory visit to Azkaban to ensure everything was in order. And Cornelius Fudge hated Azkaban. The dementors terrified him no matter how many Patronuses surrounded his entourage, and then there were the prisoners themselves.

"Good day, Minister Fudge," the Azkaban head jailor greeted cordially, shaking Cornelius's hand.

"Yes, yes, good day to you too, Shafiq," he replied, intentionally not using the title 'lord' to flaunt his own status.

Shafiq noticed, and his left eyebrow twitched, but other than that he gave no indication of his irritation. "Right, this way sir, this way." He ushered the Ministry group through the gates and into the prison.


It was on the way back that it happened.

Cornelius was striding along towards the exit, definitely not looking anywhere but ahead, when a hoarse voice croaked from his side, "Minister… Minister, please… wait…"

A shiver ran down Cornelius's spine as he forced himself to turn and look at the prisoner who had spoken — for it had been a prisoner — and found himself looking into the haunted eyes of Sirius Black. He swallowed nervously, then spoke.

"What is it, Black?"

The haggard man licked his lips. "Do you… the Daily Prophet… do you have a copy?"

"Why would you want the paper?" he questioned harshly.

"Crosswords… crossword puzzles. I… miss them…"

Crossword puzzles? But what was the harm in it? Cornelius dug into his robe, then drew out the recentest edition of the Prophet, then threw it through the bars, careful not to go too close.

Black fumbled, then caught it, the pages slightly crumpled. He flipped through them and located the correct one, then looked up again.

"Quill?"

At this one of the bodyguards spoke up. "No sharp objects allowed, Minister."

Cornelius nodded readily. "Right. No quills, Black."

Black shrugged, as though he'd been expecting this answer, then lifted an overgrown fingernail and scraped it along the flaky walls of his cell. Cornelius's bodyguards made to leave, but the Minister held up a hand.

"Wait. I want to see this."

Black's gaze flickered up briefly, and astonishingly, his lips tugged up in a tiny smile. Then he turned back to the paper and started scanning the clues, mouthing them as he read. Within thirty seconds, he had the first word figured out, and used the black soot-like substance (Cornelius didn't want to think of what it could really be) to painstakingly inscribe letters onto the sheet. He let out an awful, sardonic laugh that shook Cornelius to the bones. Of course, the word had been A-Z-K-A-B-A-N.

"We're going."

The lead jailor nodded, and went to reach for the paper to take it from Black's hands, but Cornelius stopped him. "Let him keep," he said.

Grudgingly, Shafiq withdrew his hand and lead the Minister and his entourage out of the prison. Back in his cell, Black hadn't even lifted his head from the paper.

Ten minutes after the Minister had left, Sirius Black placed down the paper. The puzzle was completely filled in, and he moved onto the stories around it. He scanned them, then two words caught his attention: Harry Potter.

Gut clenching, the weary man read the text around it. Then he lifted his eyes to the image above, and studied the happy looking family on it. His eyes zeroed in on the boy who had been named as 'Harry Potter's best friend'.

And then to his shoulder.

And the rat on it.

And he let out a god-awful scream as he realised what he was seeing.

Wormtail, he thought. And then, don't worry, Harry. I'm coming.

A/N: There you have it! The first in a series of standalones about Azkaban. Not in any order. The next one will be the mass escape during fifth year, then Umbridge's trial, then Sirius's escape, then... well, we'll see. I have absolutely no idea when I will next update. Sorry. But I will update MWPJ in a week or so, and Namesake in a couple of weeks. And I will be posting some random oneshots soon also.

Anyway, gotta go move this from the plot bunny area of my profile to the actual stories area of it.

Review!

Bye!