Summary: Sirius Black had a little help with maintaining his sanity in Azkaban, especially around the holidays.
Disclaimer: Buffy-verse belongs to Joss Whedon, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing some of their characters for some holiday cheer.
Notes: This was originally written for the 2004 Twisting the Hellmouth Fic For All challenge, #13 Drusilla/Sirius Black pseudo-friendship. Takes place Christmas of CoS and pre-BtVS (1992).
Calm of the Night
He was expecting her. She was a measurement of time for him, coming every Christmas Day since his imprisonment eleven long years ago. The first time she appeared – dancing, taunting him – he feared Azkaban had managed to crack his sanity. But she returned every year, murmuring phrases about the whispers from behind the veil or her dolly's naughty behavior.
The Dementors never bothered her. They didn't even seem to recognize her existence as she flitted from cell to cell, calling out to the withered prisoners within. The third time she came, her male companion answered his un-verbalized question. The dark haired beauty was a vampiress seer with a physical disability, and cavorting in the misery of the wizarding prison was a present she gave herself every year. Her lack of a soul acted as a deterrence to the Dementors, and the few hours she spent outside his cell granted the withering man the clarity to think without forcing his gloomy memories on him.
Tonight she was alone, twirling gleefully in the dim moonlight. For a few hours, Sirius Black could reflect on happier times thanks to the antics of a sickly soulless creature. As her golden eyes reflected the glow of the night, Sirius could only feel compassion and thanks for her presence in his life. Softly, he whispered into the still air.
"Merry Christmas Drusilla."
And turning to him, she smiled.
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