Prologue

"Some say that there are monsters in the world, that the fantasies of a child's mind do in fact exist, but what they don't understand is the complexity of the situation they had just stated. What they don't know is that these so-called 'monsters' are just like the rest of us." – Sira Volkov

"If you would follow me, ma'am," the young guard said as he took a key out of a lockbox. It was his first day on the job and he seemed a bit nervous. He'd only been to the maximum security level once, and that was just when he was being showed his new place of employment. The woman, who wore her brown hair in a tight bun and a navy auror uniform, gave him a reassuring smile. Only, her bright blue eyes showed her nervousness as well.

She wasn't actually sure that what she was doing was right.

"Certainly," she replied as she followed him out of the prison's office. The key trembled in his shaky hand, jostling against his watch. She thought of something she could say to calm his nerves, but she decided against telling it. She ranked fairly high in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, since she was an auror and a trainer for the Hit Wizards. He probably feared messing up in front of her and losing his job more than the inmates in the maximum security level.

After a while, they reached their desired floor. Memories rushed back into her mind, her fighting against the guards as they dragged her to her cell. She swept the memories from her mind, her scream from the past still in her ears. She had a task to complete. She needed to focus.

But this was Azkaban, and it had affected her life extremely.

"Here we are," the guard stated quietly as he unlocked a cell door slowly. "Do you need any help with him?"

"I shouldn't," she said softly, her eyes fixed on the door.

"When you're ready, bring him to the first floor and we'll return his possessions and get him checked out."

"Thank you," she stated as the guard walked back down the hall, rushing to get out before she could move. After a moment, she opened the door.

"Sira," the gruff voice said in a whisper from the darkness of the cell. The light flooded the little room, barely touching the man that said her name. She stepped into the cell, her blue eyes looking into his yellow eyes. "Is it today?" Her eyes adjusted to the poor light as she nodded, just to see a warm smile form on his face. He stood, towering over her. She always forgot how tall he actually was.

"How have you been?" she questioned as her nerves subsided a bit with the sight of his smile. His hand tenderly touched her cheek, his thumb rubbing the corner of her mouth. A shiver ran down her spine and her mouth drew up into a smile.

"I've been alright," he whispered into her ear, "but better now that you're here." His words caused her to smile a little bit more. Somehow, by some miracle, he was sweet now. He was no longer a monster, but a man. A good friend, even though he wanted to be much more than her friend. He understood that she was married but that didn't stop him from at least trying to woo her. But the reason he was now this way was because of her. She had somehow managed to tame the most savage werewolf in existence.

"Fenrir, I'm married," she said with a lack of emotion in her voice as he kissed her cheek. He drew back a bit and looked into her eyes, smirking.

"I know, but can't I just pretend it isn't so for a while? You make me feel so good."

This comment caused her to drop her eyes from his momentarily. "Are you ready to go?" she asked a bit sheepishly and he nodded in reply. She took his hand, looking up into his eyes as he dropped his other hand from her cheek, and lead him out into the hallway.

"So where is Anthony?" Fenrir asked, looking at the other inmates in their cells as they walked towards the exit of the maximum security level. Most of the other prisoners had a life sentence and would die in the cells he now saw them in. Forever trapped in this hell. He considered himself to be lucky. Nineteen years of containment and a massive shift in his personality because of the woman with brown hair and blue eyes allowed him to be free. Without her, he would die here with the rest of them, not knowing the error of his old ways and seeing how he could affect others so harshly. Without her, he would still be the most savage werewolf in existence. Without her, he would never be able to see the light of day again. Without her, his life would never taste this sweet.

"He's waiting for us outside. He didn't want his first impression of you to take place in here," she replied. "He felt that this place would skew his view of you and make you out to be a person that you're not." She paused for just a moment, looking up into his face, and he stopped beside her. "He asks about you a lot, Fenrir, and when he first started asking, I wasn't sure what to tell him. I didn't want my initial fear of you to affect him, so I didn't say much. He wants to know you, to know who you actually are without the opinions of other's describing you to him."

"He sounds like a fine, young man. Like you and Scabior have raised him well."

"We tried our hardest," she said with a little smile as they resumed walking. After a few minutes, they were back on the main floor of the prison, where she led him into a uniform room. He watched her as she searched the shelves, looking for his number. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Even though she was in her auror uniform, she still looked so beautiful.

She pulled a box off of one of the shelves and set it on the table in front of him. After she opened it, she set some of his clothes on the table. "Through the door over there," she motioned to it, "there's a shower. You can wash up in there and I'll get the rest of your things out and accounted for." He nodded and picked the clothes up off of the table and went to the shower.

Water fell in large drops, coming from behind the door, sending the plopping sounds throughout the room as she searched the shelves for anything else that was his. There was nothing out of the ordinary within the shelves. Clothing, wands, pictures of loved ones, a few galleons here and there. The items, while nothing special, told something about each of their owners. After a bit of searching, she stumbled across something she thought she would never find. The box looked like it hadn't been touched in years and she recognized the numbers on it. They were her's when she had imprisoned there. She opened the box to see her old clothes, along with a picture of herself and the man she had loved. A smile lit up her face as she looked at it. In the photograph, she was only twenty-three. She looked so young back then, so innocent. Not stern or cold, but warm and full of love. The man she stood next to in the picture was none other than Sirius Black, and they had been dating for just a few weeks when the picture was taken. But they knew that they were perfect for each other, even though they barely knew each other. Love was all they needed.

That was before her whole existence changed. Before she started making terrible mistakes.

"Thank you for the clothes, Sira," he said, pulling her from her thoughts. "You didn't have to get these for me."

"I thought it would be the right thing to do," she said as she folded the picture and put it into her pocket, turning to face him. "And you look very nice in them." He sat down on a stool, chuckling lightly as she went over to him, running her hand through his damp hair. For once, it wasn't tangled and matted; it was actually soft and smooth. She kept reminding herself of how he used to be. His scarred face with cruel eyes and wild hair, but now, his scars had almost faded completely and his eyes had softened. Once wolfish, now human, she told herself as she started to see their son's resemblance in his face.

"Should we go?" he questioned, looking up into her eyes as she continued to stroke his hair. She nodded slightly, wishing that she had something to say. Her old life was held in his eyes, stirring something within her. She took his hand once again to lead him out of the prison.