AN: Harry and Sirius don't know each other. Fudge didn't let Sirius read the newspaper so Sirius never broke out of Azkaban. Takes place in DH when the trio first started camping out in the different forests. (Sirius was also told that Harry had died as a baby).
…
It was twilight. Harry had left the tent earlier that afternoon in search of food, and promptly got lost. Without knowing it, he had traveled well past the wards Hermione had put around their camp-sight and now he couldn't see them. He called out pointlessly for Ron and Hermione, but neither or answered him.
Shivering, Harry sat down on a tree knot and drew his knees up to his chest, rubbing his arms. He had goosebumps all over his body. He felt a growing dread. What if he never saw Ron and Hermione again? Would they be able to find the Horcrux's without him? Were they looking for him right now?
What have I done? Harry sighed. All thanks to his stupidity, Hermione was probably worrying about where he had gone off to; although it seemed clear to Harry that Ron wouldn't mind too much. Ron had done much complaining over the past week, and Harry had to resist the urge more than once to grab the Horcrux around Ron's neck and throttle him with it.
Now he sat like a bump on a log, shivering, as the darkness threatened to take hold of the half-lit sky. He closed his eyes, trying not to let terror grip him. Think, he told himself, what would Ron and Hermione do?
He tried switching places with Ron, wondering what he would have done in this situation – probably the same thing Harry was doing. Dismissing Ron, Harry thought about what Hermione would do.
Try to find somewhere safe and hide. Harry blinked open his eyes and looked around him. What place was safe? The only thing he saw that could provide some shelter was a rather small fox-hole. Could he try to camp out in there? The fox was most likely in there – he thought it might be somewhat of a giveaway if he was being chased around by an angry fox.
Harry looked up at the tree whose root he was resting upon. Could he perhaps climb up it? The trunk was smooth – it wouldn't work. Harry cursed loudly. Of all the rotten luck . . .
There was a crunching sound. Harry barely had time to turn around when he heard the shout: "Incarcerous!"
Long ropes bound Harry tightly and he tripped as he tried to free himself. Struggling, panting for breath, Harry tried to look around for who had conjured the ropes. There were people running towards him. He noticed that they were wearing masks.
No! Harry had not come all this way to be taken by Death Eaters. He struggled even harder, but cried out as the ropes tightened against him, leaving his skin red and scratchy.
"We got a live 'un!" called out the smallest one, who had lumbered towards him faster than the others. "Whadda we goinna do with 'im?"
The others had caught up with them. Harry counted four of them.
"Wha's your name, boy?" asked the largest in a low, growling voice.
"Dudley!" Harry said, thinking of the first name that came to mind. "Vernon Dudley."
"You 'ere that? Vernon Dudley!" he called to the others, who laughed. Harry struggled harder against the bonds.
"We ain't hearin' of no Vernon Dudley," one of them snickered.
"You know," said the largest man. "You lookin an awful lot like that 'Arry Potter."
"No," Harry struggled even harder. "I don't even know him!"
They all laughed. "You ain't been 'earin of 'Arry Potter? Where you comin' from boy?"
"I – I know of him!" Harry improvised. "But I don't know him, personally."
"You look about Hogwarts age," said another one – a woman with a deep voice. "Surely you'd know Harry Potter."
"Look, not everybody in school knows him, okay!" Harry exclaimed.
"You sure you ain't just in-pro-vizin'?" roared a new voice, it sounded thick with delight.
"Shut it," snapped the larger of the two. "You don' even know what your sayin'."
"'Ay, it ain't your job to boss me 'round!" he sounded angry.
"Says who? We need to decide what we're doin' with this 'ere boy."
"Vernon Dudley, he says," said the smallest. "What house you be in, Vernon?"
"Slytherin," said Harry automatically. They snickered. "Funny 'ow they all seem to wanna be in Slytherin when we find 'em, but none of 'em know where it's at."
"It's in the dungeons!" Harry exclaimed. "Under the lake!"
Harry couldn't see their faces behind the masks, but he could see the shock in their eyes.
"Well," said the smallest finally. "Lookie 'ere! We caught ourselves a snake!"
"Whadda we do wit' him?" asked the one with the thick voice.
They all seemed to be looking at the largest one. His gray eyes were narrowed with concentration.
"We'll take 'im to Azkaban," he said after awhile. "Then the other's can take 'im."
Azkaban? "No!" Harry struggled even harder against the bonds, but finally the woman pointed her wand straight at him. "Stupefy!"
The last thing Harry saw before his world went dark was a stream of red light headed his way.
…
Sirius Black had been in the middle of a fitful nap when suddenly the cell's door next to him was thrown open. Two Death Eaters were dragging an unconscious boy and they threw him in the cell unceremoniously. In the dim glow, Sirius couldn't make out his features, but he could see a mess of black hair and glasses on the boy.
Sirius had watched over him all that night. This boy wasn't the first teenager to be brought in here; there had been about forty others. None of them made it very long in here.
The last time this cell had been occupied a boy managed to kill himself by banging his head against the raggedy stone wall repeatedly and succeeding in breaking his skull. There were still dark stains from the blood that nobody had bothered to clean up properly.
The next morning a musky light filled the damp halls of Azkaban and casted an eerie glow on the cells inside.
For the first time Sirius saw the boy completely. He looked oddly familiar, but Sirius just couldn't place it. For a moment, a happier time flew in front of his eyes, and his best friend lurked inside his memory, but Sirius shook it away. The boy might have looked like James, but there were also some features that just didn't belong to his best friend. For example, the boy's cheek bones were higher, giving him a more angular face. His nose was straighter than James's was – though, admittedly, seeing as James broke his nose in second year it wouldn't have been straight for a while. His lashes were thicker, and his lips were slightly bigger. He also seemed to be covered in lacing bruises that looked to have been made from a rope.
The boy let out a groan and Sirius automatically perked up, watching the boy stir. The boy's eyes fluttered open and Sirius saw a shock of emerald green. Lily flashed across his mind, but he dismissed that thought also, because Harry James Potter was dead.
"Who are you?" the boy finally asked, his voice weak. "Where am I?"
"You're in Azkaban Prison . . . I'm Sirius Black."
Sirius waited for the wince, the backing up, the scared look, but this boy did none of those things.
"Damn." He cursed. "I was hoping it was a nightmare."
"What's your name?" Sirius asked, without any real curiosity.
"H – Vernon Dudley."
"How'd you manage to land yourself in here, Vernon? Mouth off to a Death Eater's mum?"
Harry chuckled. "Not quite. I was camping with some friends" this wasn't a complete lie "and I had gone out to get some food. Then out of nowhere four Death Eaters were there. They had bound me up, and then brought me here."
"Ah," said Sirius knowledgably. "Snatchers."
"Snatchers?" Harry questioned.
"Yeah – there's not a lot of Death Eater snatchers, but they try to round up Muggle-borns and blood traitors. Bring them here most of the time. Sometimes they kill them right on the spot."
Harry shivered. "I'm neither," he said. "I'm a half-blood."
Sirius glanced at him curiously. "You think the pure-blood in your family is considered a blood-traitor?"
Harry thought about his dad. He thought about how his dad had married a Muggle-born, how he fought valiantly against Voldemort in the Order right until the end. "Yeah," he said finally. "That must be it."
There was silence between the two. Neither knew what to say. "It's horrible," said Harry finally, "how they're treating people like this. Did you hear about how they're registering Muggle-borns?"
"Oh, I heard it alright," Sirius snarled. "Sick bastards."
"Do you know anyone who's a Muggle-born?" Harry asked him.
Sirius nodded stiffly. "I did."
"I do to," Harry leaned back against the cool stone wall. "She's one of my best friends."
Suddenly Harry wished he had kept his mouth shut. Now they would try to use her against him!
"Yes . . . she was one of my best friends too. The Muggle-born I knew," Sirius added, thinking of Lily.
"Did she – is she still –" Harry started awkwardly.
"She's dead," Sirius's voice quavered. "She was killed. By Voldemort."
"By Voldemort himself?" Harry questioned.
"She got in his way," Sirius said simply.
Harry glanced down. It reminded him of his own mother, and how she had died protecting Harry. Someone who he wanted.
"Something like that happened to me once…" Harry sighed. "He just got rid of her . . . as though she were a mere obstacle. . ."
They both sat in silence, again. "…and the worst part is," Harry continued. "I have to live with that knowledge every day."
Sirius looked at the boy, startled. "Don't beat yourself up, Vernon. It's not like Voldemort was after you."
Sirius blanched at the look Harry gave him. "Oh . . . I'm – I didn't –"
"It's okay," Harry shrugged. "I'm used to it." In so many different ways…
"Can I ask – why?"
That was a question Harry never thought he'd hear. Why was Voldemort after the famous Harry Potter? The sentence itself was laughable, but this was no laughing matter. Because Harry Potter wasn't Harry Potter anymore – no, he was Vernon Dudley; a Slytherin half-blood who managed to get himself caught by snatchers on a camping trip and landed in Azkaban prison.
Harry had to come up with more stuff on this new 'Vernon Dudley'. All the better for questioning.
"It's kind of a long story…" Harry began hesitantly.
"I've got the time," Sirius offered.
Harry glanced at him, his mind buzzing. What was he supposed to say? Come on . . . think up something . . . Then it hit him: His own life story – in a different perspective.
"My parents were working against Voldemort. He tried very hard to kill them. Though he wanted to get revenge on my parents by going after me."
"Blimey," said Sirius, shocked. "Where are your parents now?"
Harry grimaced. "They're dead."
There was a shocked silence. "I'm sorry," Sirius mumbled.
Harry shrugged. "It's okay, it happened when I was a baby so I don't remember it much . . ."
"But still – it's sad."
"People die … but life goes on."
Sirius gave him a respectful glance. "Couldn't have said it better myself, although sometimes I do like to think the opposite…"
"Doesn't everybody?" Harry said, and they both laughed.
"Well, how old are you then, Vernon?"
"'M seventeen." Harry mumbled, still not used to being called 'Vernon'.
"When's your birthday?"
"When's yours?" Harry countered.
Sirius chuckled. "June 17th."
"Really? Mine's the 31st of July."
"Both summer," Sirius smiled sadly.
"Yeah."
Suddenly Sirius looked thoughtful. "My friend's son was born on that day . . . but he passed. Killed by Voldemort."
Harry looked at him curiously. "I'm sorry," he said. He wanted to ask more, but held himself back at the last minute seeing Sirius's face.
"As you said, life goes on," there was so much misery in Sirius's voice that Harry had to wince.
"Why are you here?" Harry asked abruptly, hoping to change the subject. This, apparently, was not the best subject change.
Sirius had suddenly turned bitter. "Apparently I committed a murder," he snarled. "but I didn't. It was another bastard, he framed me!" Sirius fumed quietly for a few moments.
Harry didn't know what to say to that. He was just about to change the subject again when suddenly his cell door was blasted open.
Harry jumped and leaned against the bars closer to Sirius, who was watching the exchange carefully and slightly nervously. This didn't help Harry's esteem much.
A masked face entered amidst the flying dust and walked menacingly towards Harry, who could see metal chains in its hands.
Harry gulped as the Death Eater stopped right in front of Harry and started to shackle him. Harry struggled at first but the Death Eater pulled out its wand and Harry automatically stiffened.
"Come on," said a deep woman's voice and Harry was surprised to hear it was the same one he had 'met' yesterday.
Harry glared at her, stubbornly staying on the ground. The Death Eater let out an impatient sigh and lifted him with surprising power by the collar of his shirt. "Get moving," she snarled, and pushed him forward so he stumbled slightly.
Harry didn't even look back at Sirius as he was forced out of the cell. Sirius wanted badly to call him back, but knew it would do no good now. Vernon Dudley was as good as dead.