God Save My Soul

By Vinkunwildflowerqueen

DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter universe and characters all belong to JK Rowling, and are not my property or creation. The song "God Save My Soul" is the creation of Idina Menzel.

AN. I heard this song when I first saw Idina Menzel in concert back in June of this year, and it just struck me. I knew from the first moment it would be perfect as a fanfic, I just didn't know how. At first I thought it was going to be a Wicked fic, because my muse has taken up permanent resident in Oz in the past few years; but the more I listened to it, the more it reminded me of Harry Potter. And then I just saw it, and there was Sirius.

Who I adore, so I'm happy with that. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Azkaban prison was the most miserable place to ever exist. The lucky ones who got to leave the island fortress and return to civilisation described it as hell on earth, but Sirius was sure that compared to this place, hell was like the south of France in summer.

But he wouldn't complain. About the cell, the food, the Dementors. Because as far as Sirius was concerned, he deserved every second of the hell he was enduring.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye he had lost everything. James and Lily were dead. Harry, Hagrid had told him, was being sent to live with Lily's awful sister and brother-in-law on Dumbledore's orders. Apparently that was what was best for him. Sirius hoped Dumbledore knew something he didn't, because the last time he checked, Vernon and Petunia Dursley were about on the same level of humanity as his mother.

Peter of all people was working for Voldemort... or had been. And no one but Sirius, James and Lily knew that the filthy little rat had been made Secret Keeper at the last minute. Which meant Remus, Dumbledore and the rest of the Order now believed that he had betrayed his best friends to his death.

It had been hard enough the last few months before that fateful Halloween night, watching them all suffer as they were forced into hiding, unable to help the war effort against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. James in particularly was restless. Lily's priority was trying to give Harry a happy childhood.

"He's not going to remember any of this, Lil," James had reassured his wife the last time Sirius had seen them.

"I know," Lily admitted. "But I feel so awful that he has to grow up in a world like this. Sometimes... sometimes I wonder if we were selfish, having a baby right now."

Although Harry hadn't exactly been planned.

"The war won't last forever," Sirius said confidently. "And besides, Harry is the best thing that's happened in years. I wouldn't trade my favourite godson for anything, no matter how many wars are going on."

They were all agreed in that.

But Sirius had still felt guilty, watching James, Lily and even Harry wilt as they were forced to remain indoors, often cut off from the Order and any news until one of them could find the time to stop by Godric's Hollow. It was almost like the Dementors were around, like the sunlight had been taken out of the sky. And all Sirius could do was watch as life passed them by. Harry was easiest to make happy, and Lily and James were happy to see their son happy. But it wasn't enough.

Sirius was full of guilt. He had promised James and Lily that if anything was to happen, he would be there. But when the time had come, when he had felt that something was seriously wrong and had gone to Wormtail's hideout and realised the truth... he had been too late. He had arrived to find a hole blasted in the cottage where Harry's nursery had been; and James and Lily...

And there was Harry, only fifteen months old, with no real clue how his world had just been utterly and completely destroyed. Sirius had begged Hagrid to give Harry to him, but Hagrid had insisted that Harry was to go to the Dursleys; and eventually, Sirius had wearily agreed.

Now, Sirius could only just remember the last moment he had gotten to hold his godson, it was already faint under the grim influence of the Dementors. He had taken him from Hagrid's enormous arms and held him close. Harry had nestled close, seeking comfort from his godfather.

"He'll be safe, won't he?" he had asked Hagrid.

The large man had nodded sadly, looking as miserable as Sirius felt. They had all loved James and Lily. And they all loved Harry.

"Dumbledore ain't gonna let nothin' happen to him. He knows what he's doin'."

Sirius had nodded grimly, held Harry tightly and kissed the top of his head softly.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," he murmured to him. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

He held him a moment longer before reluctantly handing him over to Hagrid. He was already forming a plan. He knew what he had to do. He had to find Wormtail and rip him from limb to limb. As much as Sirius was mourning James and Lily now, it was Harry he grieved for the most. His godson was so tiny, so innocent, so precious. And now he had no parents, no home and who knows what kind of life with Lily's relatives.

He wished he had a Time-Turner, to go back and fix all this mess. To keep Harry safe and whole.

With every day, every year that passed, Sirius's guilt grew. He had promised James and Lily to look after Harry if anything ever happened to them. And he had failed in that aspect. Who knew what kind of life Harry was having? Whether he was safe or happy. Who knew what Sirius had missed? And for what, an ill-fated revenge plan?

The days were long in Azkaban, and the nights were even longer. Sirius didn't sleep much these days, between the cold and the screams of the other prisoners, those who hadn't been there as long as some of the others. Those who were still trying to fight against the Dementors.

There were nights where the night stretched on so long, that one would swear the dawn would never break. These were the nights Sirius half-wished he could just close his eyes and never wake up. But he always did, doomed to face another day.

Sirius wasn't afraid of dying. He used to be able to hear the mutterings of the guy in the cell next to him; he would mutter endlessly about facing judgment in death, the tolling of the bell. He would cry out in anguish, four words that echoed about the fortress. God save my soul. Sirius didn't think about that much, but the idea didn't scare him. He knew if he was to be judged, he would deserve any punishment. Because as far as Sirius was concerned, he had failed in his role as friend. As protector. As godfather to Harry.

He had nothing left.

God save my soul, indeed, Sirius thought bitterly.

Harry would be nearly eight years old now. Sirius didn't even know if he still resembled James as much as he had as a baby. He didn't know anything about his best friend's son. His godson.

He just hoped that Harry was safe, that he was happy and healthy.

From the moment he had born, it was clear- to them at least- that Harry had inherited the best parts of James and Lily.

"He looks just like James," Lily had beamed after Harry's birth.

"Poor kid," Sirius had joked and James had glared at him good-naturedly.

"Watch it, Padfoot. I hate to think what your kids are going to look like."

Remus had snorted. "He's going to have to find some poor girl and convince her to marry him first."

"I hate you both," Sirius had replied dignifiedly.

"Oh, that's lovely that is. I suppose you don't want to be Harry's godfather, then?" James said and Sirius had been utterly gobsmacked. But more touched than he had ever been, including when James had asked him to be his best man.

"I am going to be the best godfather ever!" Sirius had crowed afterwards, when Lily and baby Harry were asleep and it was just the Marauders in the kitchen, drinking firewhisky.

"Why does that sentence scare me a little?" Remus asked teasingly.

James was just over the moon. "I hope he gets Lily's brains."

"We all do," Sirius reassured him, sniggering.

"I can't believe how tiny he is," Peter said in wonder, remarkably quiet.

"I know," James agreed. "Watching him be born was the most terrifying, most amazing thing ever."

Then he had beamed at his old friends.

"Lily's going to be the best mum, isn't she?"

"The best," they had all agreed, completely sincerely.

But they had only gotten a year. Sirius hoped that as much as Lily and Petunia had their differences, Petunia was taking care of Harry. He knew she and her husband had a son around Harry's age, and thought that could be good for Harry.

But that was he regretted most of all, the not knowing.

Did Harry have Lily's brains, like he did her eyes? Did he have James' sense of humour?

Sirius didn't think his godson would have any memories of James and Lily. He didn't know much about babies, but he knew at fifteen months Harry wouldn't have remembered much... if anything. And on one hand, that could be a good thing, he wouldn't remember that night. But on the other hand, he wouldn't remember anything about James and Lily and how much they had loved him.

And whilst it was so easy to blame Voldemort and Wormtail, and he did; Sirius knew that he would always feel guilty. If only he hadn't suggested switching Pettigrew as Secret Keeper. If only they had told Dumbledore of the plan.

But it was too late now.

And so Sirius lay in his cell, and waited for dawn to break, bringing another day in Azkaban. As he deserved.

The End