Hi, this is my first fanfic so if it's no good, try to be nice. I'm just starting out! Thanks for reading:) Also, I'd really love reviews because like I said, this is my first and I'd like to know what people think. Enjoy.
BOOM! All around him the street exploded. Sirius was knocked back off his feet. There was screaming but he didn't know where it was coming from. "Peter!" He screamed. "Peter!" He shot curses blindly into the thickness of the smoke. "Peter!" He roared. "Peter!" All around him there were sharp cracking sounds of people apparating. A jet of light knocked his wand flying. He yelled in surprise. Ministry wizards were baring down on him everywhere. "Peter!" He yelled, pointing at the cloud of smoke still rising from the street.
Two of the ministry wizards looked at each other and then back at him. "Stand down!" one of them shouted. He turned his head from one person to another, trying to understand why they had their wands on him. He laughed at their stupidity. "Not me you idiots, Peter!" One of the wizards hopped down into the smoking crater in the street. "There's no one down here!" He yelled. "No, hold on, oh crap! Oh God!" Sirius grinned. "I got him!" The wizard in the hole came back up, something wrapped in a handkerchief. "You got him?" He asked looking horrified. "You killed him." He held out the handkerchief in disgust and Sirius looked at the cause of his revulsion. A finger. He gasped. "No. . ." It was too much. Peter was too much of a coward. He broke out laughing, loud hysterical laughter and he shook as he did so. It was far too much. Two of the wizards grabbed him and started to lead him away and he went limp, shaking slightly.
They dragged him away from muggle eyes into an alley and disapparated. Sirius was dragged along. He felt himself crash to a spinning stop. The smell of the sea hit him and he looked around, confused. Looming up before him was a tall black pillar No, not a pillar, a tower. An awful, dark, evil looking tower. He began to convulse, the big black wall surrounding the tower had a big black gate set into it and above that gate, in silver lettering were the words Azkaban Prison. He began to stumble backwards. "No!" He gasped. "No, let me go! No, don't do this! I don't belong there." He could see dementors swooping around the outside. He'd never really been close to one before. He felt his stomach twist inside of him. "No!"
The gates opened and the ministry wizards began to drag him towards them. He went limp again, unable to put up a fight, the crippling depression that emanated from the building could be felt even before they crossed though the gate. Two of the wizards conjured patronuses and then his feet crossed the threshold of the gate and he was inside the walls. He looked up despairingly at the arching gate and the silver lettering and then forward at the big, black tower. Fear gripped him but he didn't know how to show it and so he remained motionless, allowing himself to be guided forward. He gave himself one last look back at the gate and silver letters before being taken inside. The heavy black doors shut silently behind him and somehow that was even worse than if hey had slammed.
He tripped over his feet a few times, trying to get a look around. He was in a long, dark hall dotted with heavy metal doors and light by dim torches. He looked from door to door wondering what was behind them and yet hoping he would never find out. The ministry wizards did not look at him and the way they completely ignored him was grating. "Where are we going?" He tried to ask but they continued to ignore him. His eyes found a door up ahead with a black X painted on it. It was the first marked door he'd seen and he wondered what was behind it. To his surprise they steered him towards it.
Inside a man in gray robes was seated at an old wooden desk, the kind teachers had. He looked up and motioned for the men to seat Sirius in a wooden chair in front of the the desk. He was forced into the chair and shivered. Somehow the room was even colder than the hall, even with the man's patronous adding a third to the mix. The man looked him over distastefully. "Mr. Sirius Black," He said and although a few moments ago Sirius would not have believed it possible, the room got even colder. "You have been charged with the deaths of twelve innocent muggles, a wizard and a most serious breech of magical secrecy. You are convicted of being a Death Eater and are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment."
Sirius stared at him, unable to believe it. "But. . ." He stammered, he somehow felt small and weak, made worse by the man's cold eyes. "Trial?" He couldn't even put it into a proper sentence.
The man sneered. "I hardly think that's necessary. You will be interned immediately. Now, turn out your pockets." But he couldn't bring himself to move. Two of the wizards that had accompanied him in picked him up under his arms and tore away his jacket. They turned out the pockets spilling an assortment of junk he didn't care about on the desk, including a clipping from a magazine detailing a new piece for his motorcycle he'd been thinking of buying, oh well that didn't matter now, Hagrid had his bike. He looked over the junk uncaringly and met eyes with the man in gray who looked disgusted. The man flicked over a few items, knocking a folded up card a girl had given him and a couple rubber bands away from a few stray matches. "We'll hold on to these, in the meantime you'll be supplied with a uniform." Sirius looked up at the ministry wizards and then at the gray man whom he found himself hating. "What about my clothes?" He asked.
"They'll be held on to along with these things." Sirius frowned, looking around him again. He had grown used to the small room and now feared leaving it. The man in gray handed him a stack of gray prison robes and glared at him. "Take him away and make him change. Then take him to his cell."
As he was being pushed out the door the gray man spoke once more. "How old are you, Mr. Black?" He asked. Sirius was puzzled. "Twenty-two." The man's face didn't change but his eyes looked even colder. "Twenty-two? Looks like you've got quite long stay."
Sirius couldn't decide if he was being taunted or not but even if he was he didn't have a chance to do anything about it. He was shoved back out into the dark hall and dragged down it to another room where they made him change. He hugged his clothes to his chest, refusing to hand them over but they were ripped from him. He tried to punch one of the wizards but was rebuked by a blast of light to his chest. He coughed and stumbled back, glaring at the wizards.
They lead him down the hall and up some stares to the very top floor. Sirius stumbled and tripped over the stares, dreading the end of their journey for the higher they went the worse everything looked. He could hear yelling from behind some doors and unnatural silence from others. This alone made him panic worse than all before. Only this time he was beyond a physical reaction. His bare feet had gone numb on the cold stone floor. He was terrified as they dragged him along. He gave up struggling and went limp.
They stopped outside a heavy steel door. Maybe it was iron, he didn't know. It was ugly, bland and gray. It made him think of the man down below who had taken his things. The man not holding him unlocked it and the door swung open. It was a tiny, filthy cell. He couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life in there. He looked up at his captors helplessly before being thrown in. The door slammed, locking him in. He looked around and dragged himself onto the metal bed in the corner. It was bolted to the floor, proving just how little control he had over his situation. He crawled up into the corner of it, furthest away from the door. He put his head in his hands and instead of focusing on his current predicament he thought of Lily and James. Of that filthy rat Peter and of all the people who didn't know the truth. Of Remus who he knew could never believe him a murderer. He held on to the hope that Remus would realize the truth and get him out. He felt alone and angry at his own helplessness. He clenched his fists, hurting himself but not caring. "Peter. . ." He whispered. And then he screamed. He screamed as loudly as he could, hoping the guards would hear and hoping they would hate it. His screams were echoed by those of other prisoners down the hall and each time he ran out of breath he renewed and screamed again until he fell asleep.