This is inspired by Jean Val Jean from Les Miserables. This is set to the same timeline as POA. The news article for the Weasleys is directly taken from the book.
Disclaimer ~ this goes for the whole story, all rights belong to J.K. Rowling.
Sirius Black sat rotting in his cell of the infamous Azkaban. I'm innocent, he thought bitterly. It seemed fitting, though, as long as he was alive and James was not, he would sit in this despicable place. I deserve it.
"Well… it seems all is in order… I'll just be taking my leave then," the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, stammered. He was carrying the Daily Prophet.
Black's lips curled into a smile.
"Good day, Minister," he called out in a friendly tone. "How are you?"
"B-b-black, I, well, I am fine," Fudge, shocked, said.
"Do you mind if I borrow the paper? It gets dreadfully boring in here and I haven't done the crossword in ages," Black causally said, as calmly as if he was asking the weather.
"Yes, um, well, good day," Fudge said while still recovering from shock. He walked quite faster down the hallway, severally freaked out.
"Goodbye, Minister!" Black yelled as loud as his horse voice allowed. He looked down at the paper. June 8th, 1993, the date read. Harry would be at the Dursleys', Black thought. No, not would be, is, his mind told him. Melancholy weighed down his injured soul. The front article was stating that a raffle for 1,000 galleons in the Ministry had taken place. Wait – something interesting. Black looked closer at the news article.
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Profit Grand Prize Galleon Draw.
A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Dailey Profit, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son Bill works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
The Weasley family will be spending one month in Egypt, returning for the start of a new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.
Black looked closely at the picture. Molly and Arthur stood on either side of the kids; the taller two looked to be twins standing next to their dad, a little red head girl in the middle next to a boy slightly taller than her who was next a pompous looking seventeen year old whom a tall, handsome young man was leaning on and laughing with another guy close to his age. Sirius assumed they were all redheads, having known Arthur and Molly and the many kids they had at the time. But the shortest boy, there was something on his shoulder… a rat… with a missing toe… it couldn't be… but the proof was right before his eyes!
"He's at Hogwarts," Black whispered.
"He's at Hogwarts…he's at Hogwarts," Black muttered in his sleep. He woke with a start. His breath became labored with anger and he thought, How? How come he managed to stay safe, all these years? Why? If there is a God above He'd let me out of this place!
An idea popped itself into Black's head. I'm thin enough. I can do it.
The dementor delivering the food to the prisoners slowly opened the doors for Black, and a dark shape slid away from it. The dementor stopped in confusion. Then it slowly slid the door back in place. One day later, it realized someone was missing. It sounded the alarm, but by that time, Black was long gone.
Swim Sirius! Swim! He told himself. The land up ahead was nearing; smoky precipices growing larger with each stroke. For a man locked up in prison for twelve, he had surprisingly made it very far. Swim! C'mon, Sirius, you're almost there! He stumbled onshore, shaking the water from his tail.
"Look, Mummy! A dog! Can we keep it?" a little girl cried. Black put on his best puppy face, hoping for some fair treatment. "Oh, please Mummy? Please!"
"No, absolutely not, Rosie!" her mother said sternly.
"Oh, Mummy, but it's sick! We have to help it!" Rosie pleaded. She was a little blondie with pigtails tugging on her mother's robe in hopes of persuading her.
"We'll bring it some food, and that is it!" Black sighs inwardly. He's going to get food, decent food. The pair left to trek up a trail that, he supposed, lead to a house or even village. Black rolled over in the sand. I need the date, I need the date, he thought over and over. The little girl came back with some left-over chicken and a steak bone.
"I wish I could help more, doggie, but Daddy doesn't like dogs. Be careful," she whispered. Black devoured the food ravenously, then laid his head down. I'll have to leave, he thought. Wait – the lady had on robes! They could be wizards! I could get a wand!
With a new vigor, Black ran up the steep pass he saw the girl disappear into. The prospect of a wand, of the possibilities with one, urged him on. He neared the top and saw a small cottage with lilac bushes on the side. He heard the voice from the lady on the beach through the window. She was instructing Rosie to practice her piano. Black dashed from the walkway to the bushes. Choppy notes sounded through the window, replacing the voice of the lady.
Black spied a man walking up the street. It was late now, nearly twilight. The man must be coming home from work, he thought. Black focused entirely on the man now, and as he strolled closer Black picked up the tune of "Where Wild Gillyweed Grows", an old song that he used to sing to his most recent girlfriend, most recent meaning twelve years ago. Her name was Colleen McCray, beautiful Irish lass. We used to snog to this song, Black thought. No, Sirius, focus!
The man was approaching the door. "Maybe one day we'll meet, where wild gillyweed grows," the man sang. Black slinked down to a crouch; the man had to draw keys from under his muggle clothing, showing his wand tucked away in his belt. Black's face drew back in a snarl, his muscles tense and ready for the pounce. I'll leap at him, he thought, and then I can grab the wand from his belt and run away before he notices.
But before he could continue with the plan, little Rosie left her piano and ran for her daddy. "Daddy, Daddy, you're back! Mummy is making lamb chops, your favorite! Oh, Daddy, there was a doggie on the beach!"
Black couldn't attack him after that. There was some innocence he couldn't disrupt there. He would get another wand a different way. He slinked down to the beach and slept under the stairs for the night, his dreams telling him, He's at Hogwarts, he's at Hogwarts.
Black slumped under the rocks on the beach. Maybe I can change back, he considered. No, too risky. I'll sleep as a dog. Night came and went, with an inky black dog – who could use a wash – sleeping under the constellation he was named for. Black was entirely unaware of his surroundings for the journey had tired him out, physically and mentally. The sun came up, flowing his hide-away with pale yellow light. Black slowly blinked his eyes and raised his head. Today I will get a wand.
Up at the cottage, little Rosie bounced impatiently on her piano bench. "Mummy, is the doggie gonna be okay?"
"Yes, Rosie dear, now practice your piano," her mother sighed.
"Can I go down to the beach first, Mummy?" Rosie pleaded.
"No, you must practice first. When you finish, you may go. Mr. Lupin is coming over tonight; surely he'll want to hear what you have learned."
"But what if he wants a seashell instead?" Rosie cleverly (to her credit) stated.
"He lives by the sea, too, Rosie. We aren't the only family in this town," her mother, exasperated, argued.
"Oh please? PLEASE MUMMY!" begged Rosie. Her mother, fed up, sent her away for some peace and quiet. Rosie dashed out of the cottage, running fast down the path, her pigtails flying behind her.
"I'm free!" she squealed joyfully.
Black's ears perked up. Maybe she has more food. Rosie skipped up and down the waterline, not daring to get her shoes wet. Suddenly, she stopped and stood stock still. If one were to look upon her face, one would see the look of sudden brilliance or inspiration. "I'm going to take my shoes off and run in the water!" she announced to no one. Rosie streaked through little waves, never going above her knees, which wasn't very far.
Rosie's mother was washing the dishes, awaiting the Daily Prophet. It usually arrives when her husband leaves for work, but today it was very late. 8:30, the clock read. She sighed and turned on the radio. They were playing an old song, "Where Wild Gillyweed Grows". It was her favorite song. She started to hum along. The broadcaster ended the song suddenly.
"We have just received breaking news," the broadcaster stated. "Sirius Black, convicted of the murder of twelve people and being right – hand man of You – Know – Who, has escaped from Azkaban. The Minister is warning people to keep children close and always watch your back. Black is ruthless. He has murdered once and will do it again. We have also received news that the Prophet is sending their papers late, due to the amount of pressure to cover this story."
The lady had broken the plate she was drying.
"Rosie!" the lady screeched as she ran the down the rocky path. "Rosie! Rose Caroline Mannith! Rose!"
Rosie stopped her romping in the water. She heard someone calling her name. She wandered very far from the path, and was quite a ways away from where she should be. She saw a lady start running really far away. The lady seemed to be calling her name, but Rosie stood where she was. As the lady ran closer, Rosie realized that is was her mother. "Mummy?"
"Rosie? Rose!" her mother called as she sprinted closer. She swept her daughter into her arms. "Rosie, Rosie, Rosie. Why did ever let you out of my sight?"