Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.
Author's Note: I'm reposting this story after having looked back on it. I decided it needed some revising, and hopefully it is a little better for it. The reviews from the last version will be lost. I'm terribly sorry, but know that I appreciate them very much. I hope you enjoy it!
To those who don't know: This story was posted back in 2007, originally. Funnily enough, I feel like it's been longer.
Azkaban, Albus Dumbledore decided, is worse than death by far. He wished he could be anywhere else, but there was business to be taken care of that only he could take care of, partially because he was head of the Order of the Phoenix and partially because no one else was very willing.
Dumbledore, with his twinkling blue eyes hidden under half moon spectacles and long silvery beard, seemed out of place walking through the dank, dark halls of Azkaban. A cold chill that could only come from the guards, the Dementors, raced through his bones. As he passed the prison cells, the inmates groaned, shrieked, or muttered to themselves. The cold steadily increased as Dumbledore neared one of those cells that was most heavily guarded.
Bracing himself, Dumbledore walked into an area so cold it was numbing and miserable thoughts crept, unwanted, into his head. Pushing them aside, he turned and looked into the prison cell of Sirius Black.
Sirius Black: convicted of killing 13 people with a single curse, including his friend Peter Pettigrew. He was the person who had been appointed Secret Keeper to the Potters. His best friend had been none other than James Potter and James' son, Harry, had been named Sirius' godson. Black had betrayed the information of their location to Voldemort, as the reports went. As a result, Sirius Black was serving a lifetime sentence in Azkaban.
"Sirius," Dumbledore said softly. The man sitting on the cot in the cell looked up, startled.
Sirius Black had been a tall, handsome, enthusiastic man. Once. Now, he was gaunt and pale and his eyes no longer carried their usual spark. They were dead. It was amazing, in a disturbing way, what one month of Azkaban could do to a wizard.
Careful not to show his slight shock, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "A word, please."
"Why are you here?" Sirius asked, sweeping messy, dark hair out of his eyes with a shaking hand. His voice was very hoarse, thought whether this was from screaming too much from nightmares or not using it enough, it was hard to tell.
"I am here to ask you a few questions," Dumbledore explained, surprised by how sane Sirius still seemed, despite his appearance. "Hopefully, it won't take too long."
"But why? It won't help you or me, seeing as there's no trial," Sirius rasped, the deadened quality of his eyes extending to his voice.
"For personal interest, more than anything. You see, I have tried to understand the events that have led to you being here, but I have failed," Dumbledore answered. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "And Mad-Eye Moody thought it would be best for the Order if I questioned you."
Sirius, choosing to ignore the last part of Dumbledore's statement, murmured, "I'm having a hard time understanding as well."
"If it makes it any easier, you needn't talk when I ask the questions," Dumbledore suggested helpfully. "Just think about the answer." Sirius swallowed hard, then nodded.
"Okay then," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing against the stone walls. "I'm going to ask you the first question. Were you truly the one who divulged the location of Lily and James Potter to Voldemort?"
Sirius gazed into Dumbledore's eyes. Dumbledore thought Legilimens, and suddenly the room faded. A scene much different from the prison Dumbledore was currently in began to unfold. Now he appeared to be in the living room of a house. People materialized. He could see that James Potter was talking to Sirius and he knew where he was.
"And I think you should be our Secret Keeper," James finished, breathlessly.
Sirius looked shocked, but then his features turned thoughtful. He took a long time to answer and when he did, he sounded a bit hesitant. "James, I would love to, you know that, but it's a widely known fact that we're practically attached. Voldemort would figure it out in a heartbeat."
"Then who do you suggest?" James asked, at once acknowledging that his friend was right but unable to see an alternative.
Sirius thought hard again, frowning, his eyes closed in concentration. Then, they popped open. "Peter," he breathed, looking at James, who also frowned. "Use Peter. He's not as strong as the rest of us, I know. But he's probably the last person Voldemort would think of you using because of that! He's the best choice, so far."
"Are you sure?" James asked, looking apprehensive. "I mean, it is Peter."
"Almost positive," Sirius answered. "I would say Remus…but Voldemort would go after him before he would ever think to go after Peter."
"It is a good idea," James conceded. "Well then, I'll tell Lily. Can you tell Peter for me? Tell him he's to come by as soon as he can so that the Charm can be performed." Sirius nodded, then exited the house.
The scene changed. This time, Dumbledore was seeing a small flat, with sparse furniture. Two men were sitting on the couch, in deep discussion.
"Peter, this is important, and I want you to listen closely," Sirius was saying in a low voice. Peter, looking small and mousy, nodded. "You are to be the Potter's Secret Keeper-"
"Me? Why me?" Peter asked, looking startled and a bit terrified.
"Because, you would-no offense-be the one Voldemort would least suspect, and we trust you," Sirius explained, and Dumbledore thought he saw Peter flinch at the last two words. Sirius, however, did not notice.
"So…I'm their Secret Keeper," Peter said, and as he said those words he seemed to warm to the idea. He even offered up a small smile. "Okay, what do I have to do?"
"Go, as soon as you can, to Lily and James' house," Sirius answered. "They'll perform the Charm, and then you'll go into…well, not hiding. Lying low is more like it. I'll be keeping watch on you to make sure nothing happens to you. You are not to tell the location to anyone, except those whom Dumbledore allows you to. Do you understand?" Peter nodded and as Sirius rose to his feet, the memory faded…
"Interesting," Dumbledore muttered to himself. He waited for another memory to present itself, but when none did, he decided to chance a look at Sirius. The young man was calm, staring at Dumbledore with a rather open expression. With apparently no memories forthcoming, Dumbledore decided to prompt the young man with a second question. "What happened the night Lily and James died?"
A pained expression stole over Sirius' face. Despite this, he continued to look at Dumbledore and, once again, Dumbledore felt more memories unfolding before him, taking him away from the setting of the prison.
Sirius was panicking and he hoped he was wrong in doing so. Nearly running, he made his way down the halls of an apartment building and knocked on Peter's door. Peter was supposed to have contacted him that afternoon but he hadn't, and Sirius suspected something bad had happened to Peter. When no one answered the door, Sirius took out his wand and unlocked it.
Inside, it was deserted. All the furniture was gone and so were Peter's possessions. Every room in the flat was the same: empty. Sirius cursed himself, no longer fearing for Peter. Now he was angry: Peter had fled. It could have meant a number of things. Sirius was beginning to doubt his trust in Peter. Why would he do this? A dark thought began forming in Sirius' head that made shivers run up his spine and a wild fear choke his heart.
Peter revealed the secret, that's why he ran away. But the next moment Sirius tried to dismiss the thought. It was insistent, though, struggling until it filled his whole mind with the possibility, with the fear. He wanted to believe, more than anything, that it wasn't true.
He ran outside into the cool, crisp fall night. A motorbike was waiting there, and he wasted no time in getting on. Accelerating as fast as the vehicle would allow, Sirius rose into the air and flew forward. The new thought now racing through his mind was, Please, please let me be wrong. Let them be alright, please.
Sirius saw the house before he landed and knew his begging had been for nothing. Half of it was destroyed, the roof caved in. He landed the bike on the street and as he ran towards the house, his panic rose sharply. He saw that someone else was there.
He reached the house just as, panting heavily, Hagrid the giant stepped out of the front door, holding a bundle in his arms.
"They're dead," Sirius said, glancing up at the giant. He wasn't sure whether he was asking or telling. When Hagrid nodded, he allowed his gaze to drift to the house and he nearly stopped breathing.
Just beyond the door frame he could see the white, dead body of his best friend, James Potter. Suddenly, he felt tears burning in his eyes. He pushed past Hagrid into the house, past the body of his best friend, and up the stairs. He walked into Harry's room, which was half-destroyed. In front of the crib lay Lily Potter, her red hair contrasting dramatically with her pearly white skin. She, too, was dead. The crib behind her was empty.
Sirius whirled around, realizing what Hagrid had been carrying, and ran back outside. Hagrid was still there, in the street, looking concerned. The bundle in his arms was making little noises.
"Yeh okay, Sirius?" Hagrid asked.
Sirius was shaking and pale and tears were running down his cheeks. His heart had been broken. He didn't feel anything remotely like okay.
However, he told Hagrid "Fine." Then his eyes caught onto the bundle which was Harry. "Listen, Hagrid…" He took a deep breath. "Give Harry to me, Hagrid. I'm his godfather. I'll look after him."
But Hagrid was shaking his head. "I'm really sorry," he said, looking it, "I have me orders from Dumbledore. Harry's ter go to his aunt an' uncle's house."
Sirius became livid. "His aunt and uncle's house? You can't be serious! Have you seen how Petunia treated Lily for being a witch? She'll do the same to Harry! And James told me if…if anything happened I'm supposed to take care of Harry!"
"Dumbledore said it was important tha' I follow his orders," Hagrid said quietly. "I'm sorry, but he mus' have a good reason."
Sirius stood there, realizing that Hagrid wasn't about to disobey Dumbledore. Furthermore, Hagrid was right, Dumbledore didn't do things just because. He always had a reason. Sirius tried to think of what he would do now that he couldn't even take care of his own godson. There didn't seem to be a reason to live.
His mind wandered, and then began to focus on one thing: Peter. It was Peter's fault, he had betrayed them, Sirius knew it, that's why he had packed up and left, and Sirius felt a fury like he had never felt before surge through him. He wanted revenge. He wanted to kill Peter.
Hagrid was watching him. "You alrigh', Sirius?" he asked quietly. "I'm really sorry. I-I have ter get Harry to his aunt an' uncles' now, tho'…"
Faced with leaving Harry behind, Sirius abruptly made his decision. "Here," he said, reaching into his coat pocket and extracting the keys to his motorbike. "Here, take it. Use it to get Harry to where he needs to be."
Hagrid took the keys and stared at Sirius, shocked and saddened. "Yer sure?"
Sirius nodded. "I won't be needing it anymore," he muttered. Then, before Hagrid could say another word, he turned on the spot and Disapparated.
The cell reappeared and with it so did Sirius, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry," Dumbledore said, softly. Sirius just gave a slight nod, too upset to talk. Dumbledore continued, "You don't need to answer this if you don't want to. I just want to know…what really happened the day you were arrested?"
Sirius took a moment and then led Dumbledore into yet another memory that, given the choice, he would rather forget.
This memory was stronger than the others, Dumbledore could feel it.
Sirius was in a street full of muggles, walking swiftly and with purpose. He could feel everything so strongly, his hatred and his determination. Beneath that, there was sorrow. And he could feel another presence, too. Peter was here. He would be with muggles, of course, because few wizards ventured into the land of the muggles. Today, however, Sirius and Peter would be making that trip.
Sirius glimpsed Peter coming out of a building. He changed directions immediately, walking swiftly towards him, pushing a few people out of the way as he did so, anger coursing through his veins. He hated Peter more than anything in the world. Peter crossed the street, and Sirius drew his wand and shouted "PETER!"
Peter turned, saw Sirius, and his eyes widened. A few Muggles stopped in their tracks out of curiosity. Peter stammered, "S-Sirius!"
Sirius raised his wand higher. Peter could be seen making movements behind his back. He winced, before drawing something subtly out of his robes. Only Sirius saw this: it was Peter's wand. The anger within him was growing dangerously high. "Peter, you-" Sirius started, but was cut off by a shriek of pain from Peter.
Peter sobbing, cried out, "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?" He then made a motion as if to get his own wand. Sirius gritted his teeth, anger coming to a peak, the last comment having hit him like a dagger. Peter had betrayed Lily and James and was now trying to blame Sirius. It almost made Sirius sick to know he had put so much trust into this…this rat.
Sirius opened his mouth to curse Peter, to kill him, and saw Peter mouthing something. Before he could react, the whole street exploded, the force of the explosion throwing Sirius back. There was screaming, crying, and Sirius struggled to stand up, cursing Peter. Briefly, through the dust, he saw a flash, and a rat resembling his former friend scurried into the sewer.
It was missing a finger.
Dead bodies littered the street and Peter's robes were in a heap directly across from Sirius. There was a huge crack in the street.
Suddenly, with several pops, Ministry hit wizards appeared around Sirius.
The full impact of what had just happened hit Sirius at that moment. Peter had framed him not only for betraying the Potter's, but also for this explosion in the streets, for these new deaths. Peter had framed him for being a Voldemort supporter, which was very ironic because Sirius hated everything Voldemort stood for. Those Ministry wizards were after him and he had not a chance, because his only evidence of innocence had run into the sewers, and nobody knew that except Sirius. Nobody knew that Sirius wasn't the Secret Keeper except Peter, who was now gone.
Of course, Lily and James knew too, but they were dead because of Peter and of no help.
How fucking ironic, Sirius thought as he became aware of the nature of his situation. It was so completely ridiculous and his cause was so lost and he was so very much a dead man that Sirius began to laugh.
It was this laugh, a horrible laugh devoid of happiness and humor, that filled the street. Two wizards grabbed Sirius by the arms and started dragging him away, and he laughed harder. He was innocent, didn't they get it? And Sirius began to laugh even harder as they dragged him away, as he realized that the whole thing could've been prevented so easily, if he had not chosen Peter, or if he had told someone, like Dumbledore, of the switch.
What the press had not revealed was that eventually, the laughter mixed with sobs over this very same thought, the thought Sirius had that Lily and James' deaths were completely his fault, and that they could have been prevented so easily if only he'd been thinking.
And Dumbledore felt Sirius' feelings and saw his thoughts as clearly as though they were his own. For all intents and purposes, during those moments he was Sirius Black. And now he knew the truth.
There was not a thing he could do about it. The evidence against Sirius was overwhelming and Dumbledore was surprised by how well Peter had set things up so that no one even suspected who was really to blame for a moment. No one was going to take Dumbledore's word alone, without support and evidence, and Dumbledore knew it. And he was sorry for it.
"Anything else?" Sirius asked, his body tensing once again in anticipation of having to call forth more painful memories.
Dumbledore sighed, not really wanting to go on but knowing he needed to. He asked, "Do you think you are responsible for their deaths?"
Sirius straight into Dumbledore's eyes, an anguished look on his face. Dumbledore knew the young man had struggled ever since Lily and James died with this one question. He didn't know how Sirius would answer, but answer he did.
"Yes, I do. I made Peter Secret Keeper, I never told anyone. I as good as killed them." Sirius' voice broke. "It's my fault. I-I killed them."
It was this answer that would continue to haunt Dumbledore long after he left Azkaban. Sirius was innocent, but Sirius thought himself guilty despite knowing what Peter did. It was a terrible situation and one Dumbledore nearly wished he hadn't been given insight into. He, too, would now carry a burden, only his burden was that of knowing an innocent person was locked up in Azkaban and there was nothing that could been done.
Sometimes it was harder to know the truth than to be blissfully ignorant of everything.