Disclaimer: I don't own any of this stuff but J.K. Rowling does!
CHAPTER ONE – MEMORIES
Rain poured heavily upon Diagon Alley, drenching its many buildings and inhabitants in water. Inside the Leaky Cauldron, two men were in deep conversation. One was dressed in dark robes, and had messy hair that he had to keep sweeping out of his eyes. His name was Sirius Black. The other man was dressed in shabby robes and had hair that was beginning to grey. This man was Tom the bartender.
Sirius was looking at his feet with a look of grave darkness and he was speaking with a tone of bitterness. "-told me that Harry would have to go live with his Muggle relatives, told me that Dumbledore gave him orders to-"-Sirius burst into mad sobs and tears dripped from his eyes and onto the bar-"-to, and that it was for his own good."
Tom grunted and began to wipe the bar with a pink polka-dotted washcloth as Sirius wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, and took a great swig from his drink. The mug fell to the bar abruptly and shattered into pieces. Sirius' hand was still raised to his mouth, "YOU!"
Standing in the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron was a certain short plump man with balding hair. A certain man named Peter Pettigrew. Sirius quickly grabbed his wand from his pocket, and pointed it at Pettigrew. Sirius spoke in a slightly trembling voice, "I can't believe what you did. After James and Lily put their trust in you, you betrayed them."
Pettigrew laughed nervously, "Betray? No, it was you who did the betraying."
Sirius snarled dangerously and threw himself at Peter. Peter pulled his wand from his robes and shouted, "STUPEFY!"
Sirius seemed frozen in midair for a split second before he fell backwards into a table. The table collapsed under his weight and both he and the table toppled to the floor. The whole room was now thickly coated in a cloud of dust, and a beam of light erupted from the center of it. There was a loud yelp and Pettigrew was smashed into the wall of the dingy pub. Seconds later, Sirius emerged from the small cloud of dust holding two wands.
"Don't make me do this, Peter. You can either come easily or die a painful death." Sirius glared menacingly at the beaten man on the floor. But to his surprise Pettigrew laughed softly.
"Well, then I choose neither."
Pettigrew transformed into a rat and dashed through Sirius' legs, squeaking madly. Sirius spun around and ran after his rat opponent, leaving a stunned and damaged Leaky Cauldron in his wake.
Sirius and Peter were now standing in the middle of a deserted street in the heart of London. Both looked extremely tired and battered, as their battle had continued for hours. Muggles were now watching curiously from their windows looking onto the street.
Sirius stood clutching his stomach with one hand and the other clinging to the end of his wand. One of his eyes was swollen over by a massive bruise. Peter on the other hand was stammering uncontrollably and was gasping for breath. Blood was flowing unmanaged from his mouth, and one of his fingers on his left hand was nearly completely disconnected from his body. Pettigrew knew it was time for him to reveal his triumph card. Silently, he grabbed a knife from his pocket. Then, quickly, so fast that Sirius didn't notice it, Peter drove the knife into Sirius' wrist. Sirius' wand dropped to the ground and Peter dove for it, narrowly avoiding Sirius's flailing fist. Then with lightning speed, Peter brought the knife down onto his mangled finger.
Blood splattered everywhere, and Peter screamed in pain. Sirius stood speechless, clutching his wrist. Pettigrew pointed his wand at Sirius, "This is for the Potters!"
Peter muttered something under his breath and turned into a rat. Just as the whole street began to crumble apart, he dashed into the darkness, free for another day. Glass shattered, steel melted, and concrete began to disintegrate into dust. Sirius stared in horror at the destruction around him and laughed softly, "So, Pettigrew. You have resorted to the dark arts after all, how pathetic."
With those words, he collapsed onto the bare ground, exhausted, and lifeless.
Sirius was now laying face down in a bare dark cell, Dementors were at the door. Suddenly, a wizard ran into the hall. "We have a problem, Lestrange is attempting to escape again! I need you to follow me at once."
The dementors and the man disappeared from the view of Sirius, and he jumped from his bed. He began to sprout hair from everywhere on his body and slowly he turned into a thin shaggy black dog. He crept to the barred door and squeezed through the bars and into the stony black halls of Azkaban prison. Every wizard in their cells laying sprawled on the floor, looking as if they were on the verge of dying. Quickly, the dog padded through the cell, not daring to look back. Suddenly, a shade of black appeared before him. Its terrible shrieks filled the air, sucking away all hope that any of the prisoners had left in their hearts.
Slowly, the dark shade thickened until it had formed the shape of a tall, thin man. Its eyes full of sorrow and pain, the shade reached towards the dog. The dog backed slowly towards the wall, growling at its new enemy. The dog jumped at its attacker, baring its teeth. Passing through the shade, the dog's eyes went blank and the dog collapsed to the floor. The shade let out one last cry of anguish and disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Grimacing, the dog quickly got up and bounded into the darkness of the corridor.
Sirius and Bellatrix were dueling in the Department of Mysteries. Sirius ducked Bellatrix's jet of red light: He was laughing at her. "Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.
The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.
The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.
A boy released another from his grasp, and jumped down the steps, pulling out his wand, as an old wizard turned to the dais too.
It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch...
The boy waited anxiously expecting Sirius to rise from behind the curtain. He had already reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps, prepared to pull Sirius from behind the veil. Behind him Bellatrix give a triumphant scream. No matter what he thought, he knew deep down in his heart that Sirius was dead.
Somewhere a man gave a terrible scream. Nothing was visible, for all was dark, but a great pain enveloped him. Someone chuckled, and light flashed briefly, highlighting the dying man's features. He had black hair and a once handsome face that was now pale and thin. Blood poured from his mouth. He was lying sprawled face up on an operating table. His chest was bare and had many cuts on it. The man was moaning miserably, and standing beside the table was a figure cloaked in black, torn, and bloody cloak. Then as fast as the light had come it was gone, leaving a silent darkness after it.
Harry Potter thrust himself from his bed with amazing speed. Sweat was pouring from his face in immense droves, matting his messy black hair over his lightning bolt scar. What was it he had just seen? Then it hit him with its full impact.
"Sirius is being tortured," Harry whispered to himself.
Harry put his hand to his forehead where his scar was. It didn't hurt like it normally would if HE was doing something, and Harry was emptying his mind as to not have anymore of those dreams. But this, this dream had been different. It was as if he was actually reliving Sirius' past and present.
Harry tried to recall the memories and to his surprise he remembered every second of what he had just seen. He suddenly came up with a wonderful yet outlandish idea, "Sirius is still alive!"
CHAPTER ONE – MEMORIES
Rain poured heavily upon Diagon Alley, drenching its many buildings and inhabitants in water. Inside the Leaky Cauldron, two men were in deep conversation. One was dressed in dark robes, and had messy hair that he had to keep sweeping out of his eyes. His name was Sirius Black. The other man was dressed in shabby robes and had hair that was beginning to grey. This man was Tom the bartender.
Sirius was looking at his feet with a look of grave darkness and he was speaking with a tone of bitterness. "-told me that Harry would have to go live with his Muggle relatives, told me that Dumbledore gave him orders to-"-Sirius burst into mad sobs and tears dripped from his eyes and onto the bar-"-to, and that it was for his own good."
Tom grunted and began to wipe the bar with a pink polka-dotted washcloth as Sirius wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, and took a great swig from his drink. The mug fell to the bar abruptly and shattered into pieces. Sirius' hand was still raised to his mouth, "YOU!"
Standing in the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron was a certain short plump man with balding hair. A certain man named Peter Pettigrew. Sirius quickly grabbed his wand from his pocket, and pointed it at Pettigrew. Sirius spoke in a slightly trembling voice, "I can't believe what you did. After James and Lily put their trust in you, you betrayed them."
Pettigrew laughed nervously, "Betray? No, it was you who did the betraying."
Sirius snarled dangerously and threw himself at Peter. Peter pulled his wand from his robes and shouted, "STUPEFY!"
Sirius seemed frozen in midair for a split second before he fell backwards into a table. The table collapsed under his weight and both he and the table toppled to the floor. The whole room was now thickly coated in a cloud of dust, and a beam of light erupted from the center of it. There was a loud yelp and Pettigrew was smashed into the wall of the dingy pub. Seconds later, Sirius emerged from the small cloud of dust holding two wands.
"Don't make me do this, Peter. You can either come easily or die a painful death." Sirius glared menacingly at the beaten man on the floor. But to his surprise Pettigrew laughed softly.
"Well, then I choose neither."
Pettigrew transformed into a rat and dashed through Sirius' legs, squeaking madly. Sirius spun around and ran after his rat opponent, leaving a stunned and damaged Leaky Cauldron in his wake.
Sirius and Peter were now standing in the middle of a deserted street in the heart of London. Both looked extremely tired and battered, as their battle had continued for hours. Muggles were now watching curiously from their windows looking onto the street.
Sirius stood clutching his stomach with one hand and the other clinging to the end of his wand. One of his eyes was swollen over by a massive bruise. Peter on the other hand was stammering uncontrollably and was gasping for breath. Blood was flowing unmanaged from his mouth, and one of his fingers on his left hand was nearly completely disconnected from his body. Pettigrew knew it was time for him to reveal his triumph card. Silently, he grabbed a knife from his pocket. Then, quickly, so fast that Sirius didn't notice it, Peter drove the knife into Sirius' wrist. Sirius' wand dropped to the ground and Peter dove for it, narrowly avoiding Sirius's flailing fist. Then with lightning speed, Peter brought the knife down onto his mangled finger.
Blood splattered everywhere, and Peter screamed in pain. Sirius stood speechless, clutching his wrist. Pettigrew pointed his wand at Sirius, "This is for the Potters!"
Peter muttered something under his breath and turned into a rat. Just as the whole street began to crumble apart, he dashed into the darkness, free for another day. Glass shattered, steel melted, and concrete began to disintegrate into dust. Sirius stared in horror at the destruction around him and laughed softly, "So, Pettigrew. You have resorted to the dark arts after all, how pathetic."
With those words, he collapsed onto the bare ground, exhausted, and lifeless.
Sirius was now laying face down in a bare dark cell, Dementors were at the door. Suddenly, a wizard ran into the hall. "We have a problem, Lestrange is attempting to escape again! I need you to follow me at once."
The dementors and the man disappeared from the view of Sirius, and he jumped from his bed. He began to sprout hair from everywhere on his body and slowly he turned into a thin shaggy black dog. He crept to the barred door and squeezed through the bars and into the stony black halls of Azkaban prison. Every wizard in their cells laying sprawled on the floor, looking as if they were on the verge of dying. Quickly, the dog padded through the cell, not daring to look back. Suddenly, a shade of black appeared before him. Its terrible shrieks filled the air, sucking away all hope that any of the prisoners had left in their hearts.
Slowly, the dark shade thickened until it had formed the shape of a tall, thin man. Its eyes full of sorrow and pain, the shade reached towards the dog. The dog backed slowly towards the wall, growling at its new enemy. The dog jumped at its attacker, baring its teeth. Passing through the shade, the dog's eyes went blank and the dog collapsed to the floor. The shade let out one last cry of anguish and disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Grimacing, the dog quickly got up and bounded into the darkness of the corridor.
Sirius and Bellatrix were dueling in the Department of Mysteries. Sirius ducked Bellatrix's jet of red light: He was laughing at her. "Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.
The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.
The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.
A boy released another from his grasp, and jumped down the steps, pulling out his wand, as an old wizard turned to the dais too.
It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch...
The boy waited anxiously expecting Sirius to rise from behind the curtain. He had already reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps, prepared to pull Sirius from behind the veil. Behind him Bellatrix give a triumphant scream. No matter what he thought, he knew deep down in his heart that Sirius was dead.
Somewhere a man gave a terrible scream. Nothing was visible, for all was dark, but a great pain enveloped him. Someone chuckled, and light flashed briefly, highlighting the dying man's features. He had black hair and a once handsome face that was now pale and thin. Blood poured from his mouth. He was lying sprawled face up on an operating table. His chest was bare and had many cuts on it. The man was moaning miserably, and standing beside the table was a figure cloaked in black, torn, and bloody cloak. Then as fast as the light had come it was gone, leaving a silent darkness after it.
Harry Potter thrust himself from his bed with amazing speed. Sweat was pouring from his face in immense droves, matting his messy black hair over his lightning bolt scar. What was it he had just seen? Then it hit him with its full impact.
"Sirius is being tortured," Harry whispered to himself.
Harry put his hand to his forehead where his scar was. It didn't hurt like it normally would if HE was doing something, and Harry was emptying his mind as to not have anymore of those dreams. But this, this dream had been different. It was as if he was actually reliving Sirius' past and present.
Harry tried to recall the memories and to his surprise he remembered every second of what he had just seen. He suddenly came up with a wonderful yet outlandish idea, "Sirius is still alive!"