September 1, 1991- Azkaban
Today's the first day of the school year at Hogwarts. Which means one thing- the Sorting. This year Harry Potter gets sorted. My godson. The son of my best friend.
And I'll never get to see him.
Never tell him about the adventures of the Marauders; never show him how to play Quidditch… All because of that traitor, Peter Pettigrew. Because of him my best friend is currently pushing up daisies and I'm about one inch away from joining him.
I remember when there was four of us- Prongs, Moony, Wormtail, and me. Back then we were innocent. All we were worried about was Quidditch, pranks, and class. Teenage melodrama, now that I think about it, but back then….Man, the Quidditch Cup was a life-or-death issue.
Those were the times.
The sad thing is, when I was young I wanted to be older. "Prongs," I'd say, "I wish I was older. Think of all the stuff I could do then." James would just nod his head, a wistful expression on his face.
Well, I got my wish. I'm older, I'm free… I'm rotting in a dark cell, waiting for death.
Fate just loves kicking my ass.
September 1, 1992- Azkaban
Another year down the drain. Once again it's Sorting time at Hogwarts. Time for the little kiddies to begin their magical experience. Ha. I could show them real experience.
It'd leave 'em terrified for weeks.
But I'm just rambling. Being locked in a cell with no human contact tends to do that. Hell, I've been known to talk to myself for days on end before I realize what I'm doing.
And once again I'm rambling. Damn.
Anyway, it is now Harry's second year at good ole Hogwarts. I wonder if he'll make the Quidditch team this year. I hope so.
I heard he defeated Voldie last year. Again. At least this time only Moldie died. I wish I coulda been there. If it was me 'stead of Harry who got ahold of him, I wouldn't have killed him.
I would've tortured him. Then I'd have killed him.
Payback, y'know? An eye for an eye, all that shit. Oh yes, Moldie woulda been crying like a little girl by the time I finished with him.
God, I wish I didn't have to think of revenge. Didn't have to think of ways to hurt my friend's killer.
Oh well. Wishing on a star, I guess.
Well, fuck off and good riddance, Voldie. I hope you enjoyed being beaten by an eleven- year-old.
September 1, 1993- Forbidden Forrest
Freedom.
Do you know what freedom smells like? Children, innocent little kids with their whole lives ahead of them. Strange, isn't it? Finally I'm free. Hunted sure, but at least I'm not caged.However, before the party truly starts I have a little errand to run. First on my to-do list- off Peter Pettigrew, current rat bastard and ex-Marauder. Which explains why I am currently living with a pack of werewolves from Wales, deep within the Forbidden Forrest. Coincidentally, I've seen Moony around here a couple of times. Last week he was running with my 'pack'. They say he's nice, albeit lonely.
Not for long, Moony. It's almost time for a 12th anniversary Marauders reunion. Grab some noise makers and a piñata. Mail out the invitations and prepare to boogie.
And, once again I'm completely off the subject. Definitely a bad habit of mine.
So… Harry's third year at my old alma mater. Maybe this year I'll get to seem him. Maybe I can even tell him who I am. All I have to do is catch an acquaintance of mine. Can't be too hard. I'll be free by December. Free to live.
Rejoice, friends. Padfoot's back.
A.N.- I know it's confusing, but I have a reason- Sirius has been in prison for 13 years so he'd be pretty disjointed while thinking. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Review and I shall send you a genuine party favor from the Marauders 12th anniversary reunion. (Okay, not really, but I will be very happy.)
Adios!
