He laughed bitterly up towards the sky, daring it to laugh back at him. The insanity of it, all of this…. The only thing he could do was laugh. He looked at the tiny line of blood, the finger……surrounded by the mangled remains of a dozen muggles.
That little rat
He only laughed harder at the thought of Peter Pettigrew running off to live with his fellows in the sewer. All that he was merit of. The sewer. The dark dingy sewers.
But He's gone free……
Its all your fault he thought to himself, and fell to his knees as a sob he had repressed shook his body.
All your, and Pettigrew's fault, and you know it. You know it, don't you?
Yes he thought back I know it. I know it very well.
Good. He really was going insane. Might as well put on one good final show before he was dragged off to his own personal hell….
Shit the thought had sunk in. I'm going to Azkaban for life, aren't I?
Yes you are.
He laughed harder. The rat framed me. Little pudgy Peter Pettigrew, framed me.
He felt an arm grab him tight. But he struggled against it.
No, I'm not leaving. I'm staying here. I want to see if my slippery little friend will resurface, so I can kill him myself.
He kept laughing. He heard voices all around him, but one, a familiar one, stuck out. It was so full of loathing it was hard to ignore. It spoke right into his ear in a low growl.
"Sirius Orion Black, you are under arrest for the murder of Peter Pettigrew and witnesses of his murder, alliance with the Dark Lord, and betrayal of Lily and James Potter, and the entire Order of the Phoenix." It was Moody. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will be used against you in court of law and Wizagamot."
He guffawed as they pulled him to his feet. Of course he had betrayed them. Trusting Peter was the betrayal of a lifetime.
"How many are dead?" he heard a man ask behind him.
"Twelve muggles, plus one wizard; Peter Pettigrew."
Twelve innocent lives. James… Lily. Fourteen people are dead because of you…..
At least I wasn't the one who killed them. Though had I been given the chance, I would have been Peter's murderer.
Too bad, Going to Azkaban innocent….
He felt the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a tube. Someone must be apparating… him, along with them. He took a deep breath, and heard a dull cluck. Moody was still holding him. His laughter began to die slightly as a cold swept through his body. Dementors already?
Yes dementors already, you idiot. What, you expected to have a clear mind when they put you on trial?
He began to take note of his surroundings. He couldn't see much. He was flanked on all sides by the top Aurors of the Ministry. They were walking on…… marble tile. So they were in the ministry? He heard someone mutter a spell, and felt Moody direct him into a sharp left.
Ah, a holding cell.
They threw him down into a chair, chains magically binding him. He was still laughing quietly. Moody stared at him with both of his eyes.
"Pity…" he said in a growl "And I thought you were good, sonny. But you've gone bad like the rest or your family."
He stopped laughing. He was never like his family. He looked behind Moody, and saw the source of the coldness. Peter's cried echoed in his mind.
"Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?"
How could I? How could you, Peter?
How could I let him just stand there? I knew what he was…
Because he was your friend once, you twit. You can't kill you're friend.
He's not my friend, My friend is dead….
"Dead." he whispered to himself. His voice hurt from screaming "Dead."
He let out a snort.
"He's dead!" he said louder, laughing harder. He laughed into Moody's mutilated face. "Dead, dead, dead, dead, DEAD!"
He laughed so hard his voice cracked, his chest hurt. He took the deepest breath he could.
"I killed them all! I Killed them!"
"Yeah, you killed them alright." Moody mumbled under his breath.
"Alastor." he said, trying to catch his breath again. He looked the man straight in his normal eye. "I killed them."
Maniacal. That's how you sound. If you're found innocent, you might as well be guaranteed a private ward in St. Mungo's for the mentally insane……
"I did it." He said "I killed them."
You sound like you're claiming the dead. Stop it. You didn't do it.
"You did it sonny, and you have a nice cozy cell in Azkaban to show for it."
"I'm going to Azkaban!" he shouted as if he had just won a sweepstakes "I'm going to Azkaban!"
"So he really is insane?" asked one Auror off to his right.
"Seems like, criminally insane. He's gone for life. He just admitted to his crime."
The reality hit him harder that his own thoughts.
You just admitted your crime to about 50 aurors.
Throw hope out the window, and let a Hungarian Horntail tear it to shreds.
I'll never see anyone again. No. I'll never even see daylight again.
A tear escaped is fierce grey eyes.
"They're dead." he whispered. He let his shoulders drop. "My fault…."
Stop saying that!
It's my fault though. I'm innocent, sure, but I deserve this.
"My fault…."
Shut up!
"My fault…."
Mad-eye kept starring at him. Not how he used to, with a fellowship. No. This was his job now. Sirius was a convict. Moody's prey.
"Alastor………..They're dead. Lily and James……."
You could have saved them. You could have made it so they were alive, and not just their orphaned son.
"Where's Harry?"
He didn't answer.
"Dammit Alastor!" he yelled "Where is my godson!"
"Out of you're reach, I assure you." this voice was unfamiliar for the day.
"Barty Crouch ." said Sirius
"Sirius Black……. Well, you've made a fine mess." he said bitterly.
Sirius hung his head.
"Killed, how many people?"
"Fourteen." Sirius chocked
"Look at me when I'm talking." he said fiercely.
Sirius snapped his head up, eyes blaring.
"Alastor, what do you think?"
Mad-eye looked from him back to Barty.
"Guilty." he seemed to resent saying it.
"Wonderful. Straight to Azkaban with you."
"What?"
"With all the other filth."
Sirius let out a chuckle.
"Get him out of here."
And he laughed again. Laughed high and hard. He felt the chains fall from his arms, and two dementors glided over. The cold became more intense. He laughed into their dead, unseeing faces.
Stop being hysterical.
The guards chained him once more, and pushed him to move forward.
Why though? There's no hope. There's no fixing this… I can't bring back the dead..
Sick in the head
Laughter is the best medicine… not that I want to be cured.
He was lost in his own thoughts until they threw him into his cell. He felt a wave of intense cold that he had managed to ignore until now.
Welcome home…. home with all the other murderers.
I'm not a murderer. I'm innocent. He thought back bitterly. I'm innocent.
It was then that his ears picked up what was all around him.
Shrieks, of the haunted slowly loosing their mind.
Yells, of those lost in dreams, or else shouting their long ignored plea for innocence.
Laughter……
Mad laughter.
Laughter that sent shivers down a sane man's spine.
Laughter for those who had lost it all.
He couldn't help but join in.
--The End--
Read and review!