Disclaimer: there are a sum total of two swear words in the seven Harry Potter books. Go on, count how many are in this fic.

So. This was it. I was going to be…well, my soul was going to be sucked out of my body through my mouth. How fucking wonderful. I glanced over at the Ministry guard. Macnair. I remembered duelling him once after a Death Eater raid on an Order safe house, almost got him arrested too. Almost isn't quite good enough though, is it? And look where we were now. Me, the scum of the earth. Him, in a cushy Ministry job, cleared of all crimes.

Wow I sounded almost calm there, didn't I?

Really I felt like vomiting in fear. If I held out my hands in front of me they'd shake uncontrollably. So I kept my arms firmly crossed and attempted to regulate my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I tried desperately to remind myself of all the good that had happened. Remus believed I was innocent. Harry knew the truth. He no longer had a Death Eater sleeping in his dormitory. I was arrested again. Shit, no, you're supposed to forget that you idiot. Mm, yeah, no bother. Just as soon as I invent self-spelling fucking wands and find a way to bring back people from the dead.

'Black,' Macnair interrupted my inner monologue harshly. 'Stand up and face the wall.'

'Why?' I asked, unimpressed with his orders. I could remember him as a little cunt at Hogwarts, two years older than me but weak and sporting an odd haircut that made me dislike him immediately. Hey, what can I say? I was unbearably shallow back then. I was right though, he was still a cunt.

'Why?' the 'reformed' Death Eater repeated mockingly. 'Because I said so, you swine.'

He kicked me savagely in the gut, sending me sprawling across the floor of Flitwick's office. I stayed down, gasping for breath with my face pressed against the stone ground. He hauled me to my feet, cursing me imaginatively under his breath all the while. When he had me face to face with a rather odd portrait of a goblin, a wand-tip was pressed to the small of my back. I stiffened, the feeling of being at wand-point more foreign to me than it used to be.

'I'm gonna make you squeal like the dog you are,' he murmured into my ear. I tensed momentarily before remembering that he couldn't possibly know I was an Animagus. Macnair cackled at my supposed fear of his words. Truth be told, I was far more preoccupied with what the Dementors would do to me.

'Fuck you,' I whispered hoarsely. Go out kicking, right? Well, maybe not literally kicking. You know what I mean. I could practically hear Macnair's smirk. The wand was removed from my back and raised, I braced myself for the Cruciatus Curse at the very least, and-

'What is going on here?'

I slumped in relief at the familiar voice, once harbinger of reprimands and detentions. 'Minnie,' I breathed, too quietly for either of them to hear me. Slowly I turned around to face her, and saw Macnair slouched like a disobedient child in front of the forever intimidating Head of House. I also couldn't help but notice a start of surprise as she saw my face again. I grimaced slightly and attempted one of those strange little smiles that said, 'oh hello former teacher and Head of House, how nice to see you again. Pity I'm now a murderer and Death Eater and your hair's going grey, eh?'

'Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with Black,' she continued, a slightly perturbed expression on her face as she surveyed me. I shrugged. I didn't really care at this stage. Dumbledore hadn't listened to me twelve and a half years ago. After an apparent attempt at murdering five more people, he was hardly going to listen to me now. Probably wanted to pontificate at length about the abhorrence of my actions and ask me why exactly I did it. I didn't care. I was worse than dead now anyway.

'Very well,' Minerva nodded, shot me a strange look, and left the office. Five minutes of tense silence later, Albus Percival whatever whatever Dumbledore appeared at the door, ever the picture of infuriating serenity.

'Walden?' Dumbledore said, to catch the attention of Macnair. I sniggered quietly. Walden? Yeah, real intimidating…Dumbledore gave me a reproving look as if I was back in school.

'Shut it Black,' Macnair hissed and then looked back at Dumbledore. 'Yes?'

'I would like to speak to Mr Black alone, if you don't mind.'

'I'm not sure that's such a good idea Profes- er…Black's extremely dangerous.'

I snorted, prompting both of them to look over at me. 'He's the most powerful fucking wizard alive and I'm not armed. What could I possibly do?' I demanded of Macnair.

It was very clear of course, why he didn't want me to speak to Dumbledore alone. Macnair knew I was innocent, and if I got the chance to tell Dumbledore that then I might have a chance of going free. Can't have the blood traitor roaming the streets, now can we?

Dumbledore nodded. 'I think that's quite succinct Walden, I would like to speak with him alone.'

Macnair glared at me for a moment before eventually relenting, finding no other excuse to stay.

'Bloody Death Eater,' I muttered under my breath. I glanced over at Dumbledore, who was taking this opportunity to regard me in total silence with those blue sodding eyes, as if he was using Legilimency. Oh yeah, there's another reason to be pissed off at him, he could've proven my innocence with no more than a few minutes work. And he didn't. I circled Flitwick's desk slowly and sank into the leather chair there, it raised so high from the ground that my feet barely grazed the floor. It was comfort I hadn't felt the like of in years. I might fall asleep here if I wasn't careful. If I could forget about the fate awaiting me in about an hour.

'I would like you to tell me the events leading up to and following Halloween night 1981,' Dumbledore said finally.

Sorry, what? Bit late isn't it? Course I didn't actually say that. I doubted Dumbledore would appreciate my cynicism.

I hesitated before answering with a bland,' what d'you mean?'

'I mean, did you betray the Potters? Did you murder Peter Pettigrew and twelve other Muggles? And if you did, why?' He seemed to be picking his way through the words carefully, his eyes didn't twinkle the way they could.

'One, no but I may as well have. Two, no, I wish I did. And the third question is obviously redundant,' I said shortly.

Dumbledore held my gaze for a few moments. 'Could you explain these answers please? It's rather important you see.'

I frowned slightly. Why would it be important? 'Um right. Er…well, first off, James and Lily didn't make me their Secret Keeper. As a bluff, I suggested using someone else as I'd be the obvious choice. We picked Peter 'cause-…we should've picked Remus but anyway…Peter was the spy all along. He told Voldemort where James and Lily were. After they- they were killed, I went after Peter in revenge. I confronted him on a busy street. He shouted something and cut off his index finger behind his back. Then he blew up the street with the wand behind him and disappeared down the sewers. And I got arrested for it,' I finished, feeling very tired all of a sudden. I leant back further into Flitwick's chair, resisting the temptation to close my eyes for just a minute.

Dumbledore looked unsettled. 'How did he disappeared down the sewers?'

'He's an unregistered Animagus, he transforms into a rat.'

'And how and why did you escape from Azkaban?'

'I escaped 'cause Harry was in danger and I was the only one who knew. Peter was posing as Harry's friend's pet rat. He could've killed him. And I escaped from Azkaban-' I paused here, reluctant to give Dumbledore the only piece of information that had kept me alive so far with no evidence that he believed a word I was saying '-as a dog. I became an Animagus with Peter and James.'

'You all became Animagi?' Dumbledore asked, in a slightly surprised voice that made you suspect that Dumbledore was surprised that he was surprised.

'For Remus,' I said quietly. 'It made his transformations easier…'

'Ah yes,' Dumbledore nodded. 'Could you show me? Your Animagus?'

'I- yeah ok,' I replied reluctantly. Could I though? I felt weaker than I had in months. It would be a struggle to change back too. But I'd try still, of course I would. If it'd make Dumbledore believe my story I'd try anything. I rose from the office chair slowly, and walked round the desk until I was standing directly opposite Dumbledore. Then, trying to ignore the headache beginning and the way my hands trembled when they hung at my sides, I morphed into the dog. It was much harder than usual, my recent encounter with a hundred Dementors having done nothing good for my strength. But I managed it. Just about.

I quickly changed back, and my vision darkened for a moment. I felt myself sway in one spot and had to grasp at Flitwick's desk for support. I heard Dumbledore talking and, with great effort, managed to drag myself back to listen.

'This is very grave,' Dumbledore said. And his expression certainly seemed to support his words. It was rare to see him so weary looking. 'Very serious indeed…'

Well yes, I was about to have my soul sucked out through my mouth by rotting corpses who drained warmth and happiness from the very air. In fact, in the circumstances I'd have to say that I felt 'serious' was a bit of an understatement really.

Dumbledore nodded, as if coming to a conclusion. 'Sirius, I need you to stay close to the window. I will tell Minerva not to allow Macnair back into the room. Now, I must go.'

I frowned in confusion as the Head Master left the room. Stay close to the window? Why exactly was I supposed to do that? Some grand rescue by an unknown saviour? An owl with a fast acting poison? A band of teenagers riding a bloody hippogriff? I snorted at the thought, despite the 'seriousness' of my er…situation.

I pulled one of the smaller, wooden chairs close to the window and stared outside, wondering vaguely if I was thin enough to get out through it.

AN: I've had most of this knocking around on my computer for ages now and only recently got down to finishing it. Please let me know what you think of it!