Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling. This is a missing moment from the Prisoner of Azkaban.

A Second Chance

Sirius woke up gradually, his vision slowly clearing. He felt awful; struggled to lift his own arms; struggled to feel anything. Through the haze he gradually began to see his surroundings. The room he was in had a high roof, elaborate carvings seemed to cover it, and most unusual of all he thought he could hear voices.

That's weird, he thought to himself, The shack certainly has nothing like that, I wonder where this dream came from, it looks more like Hog –

Sudden realization came crashing down – Hogwarts; Harry; Pettigrew's escape; Moony; the Dementors…

As the events of the night began to tumble back into his head his mind seemed to clear rapidly, any remaining fog from the Dementors dissipating.

The Dementors – how could he possibly have escaped that? he thought.

The last thing he remembered was Harry by his side trying desperately to repel them…. Maybe he managed? With sudden determination he attempted to sit up, realising almost instantly that it hadn't only been the after effects of the Dementors affecting his movement. He could now feel ropes cutting into his wrists and ankles, tying him to the starcher he was on. Tilting his head upwards he could see the entrance to the great hall just on his left.

Oh shit, was his first thought

He had been caught. All that time running and hiding had been for nothing. He had failed miserably; failed to catch Pettigrew; he wasn't even sure if he had managed to protect Harry; he had failed James.

Groaning, he let his head crash back down onto the hard wood supporting his stretcher. The noise seemed to catch the attention of whoever was with him, for the voices to his right died away. Footsteps moved closer. Struggling, Sirius attempted to tilt his head in their direction.

"Black, so you finally are awake," said a disgusted voice.

Great, the minister just what I want, thought Sirius to himself.

Fudge's pudgy, childish face came into view, along with that of Macnair, a death eater, and that of Snape's, his school life enemy.

"So, it seems we finally caught up with you after all," Fudge continued. "We just need to wait for Dumbledore to give the go ahead and the Dementors will be here soon enough."

Shuddering, Sirius finally realised the full implications of being caught – he had been sentenced to the Dementors kiss – without the rat to prove his innocence it seemed he was soon to be in a state worse than death.

Struggling against his bonds he tried to talk.

"No… Minister… you have to listen," he said.

But Fudge was just standing there shaking his head with that stupid little smile on his face.

"You're lucky as it is, if the Dementors hadn't backed off earlier tonight…," his voice faded.

Sirius just looked at him in disbelief. Once again they failed to listen. They never even thought there was a chance, he thought to himself letting his mind drift back to his first day in Azkaban when cold, empty, and almost beyond care he had realised he had no chance at a trial.

Breaking away from his thoughts he heard Fudge speaking again.

"Snape, Macnair," he called briskly, "See to it that he is put in that office – where was it – Flitwicks that's right. And ward the doors I want no chance of an escape attempt."

Black saw them nod out of the corner of his eyes. Then without warning the ropes binding his arms disappeared and he was forced into a sitting position, all the while wands pointed at his face. Just as quickly he felt his hands being pulled backwards before ropes once again secured them behind his back. His ankles were tied in a similar manner, yet with enough room so that he could somewhat, barely, walk.

Forced to his feet by Snape, he was half dragged along, too weak in any case to try anything, all the while feeling the tip of a wand digging into his back.

It had to Macnair, Sirius thought. Oh the irony… he was the Auror, it should have been the other way round; the death eater at his mercy … actually any death eater would be ok. Once again Sirius felt that murderous hate towards Pettigrew boil up inside him. But with no way to release it, he just felt despair wash over him once more.

Snapping out of his thoughts he realised Snape was actually talking to him.

"Ironic isn't it Black, to think of all those years you and Potter strutted around as though you owned the place and now this - you're at the very bottom."

"Shut it Snivellus," Sirius retorted, trying to contain his temper.

Snape just glanced sideways at him, a smirk forming on his face as he continued talking; "To think of all those times you would gang up on me, too cowardly and pathetic to even attempt a fair …"

Sirius, his emotions already strained to breaking point, snapped. Forgetting the strength of the bonds holding him he forced himself out of Snapes vice like grip, the lines on his faced displaying his fury: "How dare you even talk about James like that," he snarled, all the while preparing to lunge at Snape, uncaring that it would make him fall too.

Suddenly an invisible force seemed to press him against the wall.

"Don't even think about it Black," Macnair said softly, sneeringly, his wand pointed directly at Black.

Then Snape was in front of him, wand pointed directly between his eyes, "I meant what I said before," Snape said voice dripping with hatred, "give me a reason and I swear I will."

Then Macnair released the spell and Sirius crumpled to the floor against the wall.

Shaking his head Snape, looking directly at him, said almost angrily, "You dare defend your so called friend – your little gang is nothing, it's GONE. Two dead, one, a werewolf all alone and you, a traitor, the very reason for it all."

The words resonated deep inside Sirius. It was what everyone thought; everyone thought he was the bloody traitor. Yet even though he wasn't, in some ways what Snape said was true – it was his fault. Defeated he let himself be pulled to his feat and practically dragged round the last few corridors to Flitwick's office, yet this time he didn't listen to either voice, instead lost in his own mind once more. There had to be something he could do; someone had to believe him; he had to protect Harry; he had to let them know the danger the rat could be.

Suddenly, Snape roughly shoved him through the door, letting him crash to the ground. Oblivious to any pain Sirius turned around on the ground to face him.

"I'll be seeing you later," Snape taunted, "though I sincerely doubt you will realize…" Macnair stood to the side as Snape said those words, yet the smug little smile said it all. Then, while Macnair simply walked away, Snape waited taking one last glace, almost … almost curious, and maybe – just maybe – even a with a touch of sympathy, before he too turned away, taking Sirius' last chance to tell someone with him.

"Wait," Sirius called not caring of the desperation evident in his voice, "Sni… no Severus, please get Dumbledore – let me talk to Dumbledore."

Snape paused, then after a few seconds, without even looking back at Sirius, said venomously, "I'll pass your message on Black, but I somehow doubt Dumbledore is interested in talking to traitors." And with that the door slammed shut and locked behind him.

Sirius didn't know for how long he sat there, bound and hopeless on the floor. While every moment could be his last, he couldn't help but let memories flood his mind. The marauders – how innocent they had been; no worries except what their next prank would be, or the next full moon. He had believed that their friendship would last forever. Stupid, bastard of a rat he thought. Because Peter really had ruined it all, ruined something so sacred in their friendship.

The only good thing about tonight had been that Harry knew he was innocent; actually even seeing him properly and talking to him for the first time in 13 years had been worth it. Moony as well – that had hurt the most – knowing that Remus had thought him the traitor. But now he knew, not that the current prejudiced society that the Wizarding world was would trust his words of course.

Suddenly, Sirius heard a clicking noise as the lock on the door was undone. He felt his breath quicken. Questions tumbled through his head: Was it the Dementors, had they finally come? Was Dumbledore going to abandon him? He did not want that .. that fate, not one bit.

Then the door opened, and who was standing there but Albus Dumbledore, powerful magic radiating off him. For a few seconds, Sirius felt a familiar calming sense as he saw his old Headmaster stand before him, but then he noticed the absence of the twinkle in his eyes; Dumbledore's hard gaze showing the anger and sadness in his face.

Dumbledore barely even looked at him before turning to look at the window. Finally he said softly, yet with a hardness in his voice, "You wished to speak to me, I believe Mr Black."

Sirius couldn't help it, he just stared, almost in a state of shock.

Dumbledore glanced at him, before shaking his head sadly. "Where did we go wrong with you, Sirius, what did we do," he muttered pity almost evident in his tone.

These words shook something inside of Sirius and broke through the shock that he had felt since Dumbledore entered the room.

"You didn't go wrong Professor," Sirius replied, "I didn't do it, I swear .. I would never.." his voice faded off, although the plea that was there was evident.

Dumbledore turned to face him, now shaking his head slightly, disbelief and anger evident.

"You were their Secret Keeper. James told me that he was going to use you – he said, quite simply to me, that he would trust you with his life, and so he did, didn't he,' Dumbledore said slowly, in that soft voice which was worse than any yelling or screaming. Dumbledore continued, "A whole street full of people then saw you blow it up, killing Pettigrew … Then this year you sneak out and threaten my students," fury was now evident in his voice, "your own godson."

There was a moment's pause.

"No Professor," Sirius finally said hoarsely, in barely more than a whisper, "Please, you have to listen, it wasn't me. It was Pettigrew; he's still alive; Harry will tell you. And I would never, never hurt Harry; he means more to me than anyone else in this world."

Something in his voice must have caught Dumbledore's attention, for he saw a flicker of surprise appear on the Headmaster's usually calm face. It seemed like forever that he just stood there, his piercing eyes gazing down at Sirius' position on the floor. Then with a flick of his wand, Sirius suddenly felt the pressure around his wrists lessen, then disappear as his bonds faded into nothingness.

Pushing himself into an upright position while rubbing his now raw wrists, Sirius couldn't help but stare at Dumbledore in amazement. He began to hope. Did Dumbledore possibly think there was a chance…

"Fudge will send someone down for the Dementors in 10 minutes," Dumbledore said, "You have that much time to give me your side of the story – and I will know if you are lying – start."

Sirius gathered his muddled thoughts and started to talk. "I guess I'll start at the beginning then," he croaked slightly, "You see when we, and I mean myself, James, and Pettigrew, found out about Remus' … problem, we decided to help him in the only way we could …"

And so the story came out: Sirius told Dumbledore all about becoming animagi in 5th year; how it formed their nicknames; why for some reason he had began to not trust Remus after they left school – something he had regretted ever since; about his so called 'brilliant' plan to switch secret keepers to Peter; and how he had gone to Pettigrew's house that night, then, knowing something was wrong, travelled to Godric's Hollow.

At this point Sirius felt his voice fade. After pausing briefly he tried again. "When I saw James, just lying there in the middle of the hall, the house in ruins," Sirius croaked, barely getting the words out as he relived that night, "I knew what Peter had done, what I had done." He looked right at Dumbledore then and saw the sorrow in the old man's eyes as Dumbledore nodded indicating he should go on. So he continued and told Dumbledore how Peter had framed him, disguised himself as a rat for all those years, then, after he had escaped Azkaban to find him, how tonight the rat had managed to escape yet again.

As he finished, Sirius heard Dumbledore sigh softly. Looking into his eyes he could see his sadness, pity for him, and at that moment he knew he had done it. Dumbledore believed him; he had warned someone. If he couldn't look after Harry himself, at least someone else would be able to protect him from Pettigrew.

After a few moments, Dumbledore raised his wand and vanished the remaining bonds around Sirius's ankles. "Would you mind, Mr Black," he said softly, "showing me your animagus form?"

Sirius knew he was weak, but he had done it before, hadn't he, in Azkaban. Concentrating hard he let the magic wash over him as he transformed into a Dog. Looking up at Dumbledore he saw the Headmaster nod at him and transformed back, remaining sitting on the floor leaning against the wall.

"That was some feat, Sirius, least of all doing it without my knowledge," said Dumbledore, a touch of humour evident in his voice.

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. "Well it's definitely been useful, hasn't it?" he replied, "Though I wish we hadn't taught the rat – that, if anything, only came back to haunt us."

Dumbledore came down to sit next to him, his mouth set in a frown, all twinkle gone once more from his eyes.

"Sirius," he said softly, "You don't know how sorry I am that you had to suffer what you have. I, myself gave evidence against you and to know that helped sentence an innocent man to Azkaban… In any case, you have my deepest apologies, and I don't know if I ever will truly deserve your forgiveness."

Sirius shook his head slightly. "It's done, I guess the evidence was against me. The only people who a truly hold a grudge against is the ministry who refused to give me a trial," he replied.

"Thank you," the Headmaster replied, before continuing sadly, "You must realise that there is nothing I can do to convince Fudge of your innocence – his mind is too set; he is too focussed on proving the ministry right."

Sirius nodded grimly, his face set, although he could not help the sinking feeling in his stomach. "I know my fate," he whispered softly. After a few seconds pause he continued, "If I may ask one favour, it is that you do not let me continue to live after it is done – I do not wish to live out the rest of my life as a soulless reflection of a human being and … don't let Harry see me … it would be too much …" he said, choking slightly as he said these words.

He looked at his old Headmaster as he said this last part, saw Dumbledore's face freeze momentarily before he nodded his head: "If it come to that, I will do my very best," he said while looking directly at Sirius. At this he stood up, turning around to help Sirius also to his feet.

"And," Sirius added still looking at Dumbledore, "Protect Harry – know he is not a weapon to be used. If I cannot do as James wished to look after him the least I can do is make sure someone else does."

Sirius finally let a tear fall as he said these last words. The death of James still haunted him, and to not be there for his friends son, his godson, when he needed him hurt most of all.

Dumbledore clasped Sirius firmly on the shoulders in reply, before saying, "That is one thing I can promise to do to my very best ability without fail."

There was a pause for a few seconds, in which Sirius felt Dumbledore's gaze stare searchingly into his own with that x-ray like vision. Finally the Headmaster said something: "You are a braver man then most, Sirius Black … a man truly worthy of Gryffindor… but remember, never give up all hope." And with one final look he turned around and walked away, the lock clicking as the door shut behind him, leaving Sirius standing alone with only his thoughts for company.

After that final click, Sirius remained standing for a while, before finally sinking down into a chair opposite the window. What could Dumbledore possibly have meant by never giving up hope. Unless Dumbledore somehow convinced the minister that he was innocent, and there was not much of a chance of that happening, there was no way for him to leave the room.

With nothing else to distract him – there wasn't exactly anything in Flitwicks office he could use to get past the still warded door – he once again let his mind begin to wander putting his head in his hands.

A sharp tap quickly interrupted his thoughts. Looking up at the window, Sirius felt his jaw drop. Looking in at him from midair, moving up and down slightly, was none other than Harry, his godson, with one of his friends. Hermione, he remembered, the smart one. How had they done it – he was on the seventh floor. Quickly he leapt up from his chair and rushed to the window to try and open it. Typically, it was locked. "Damn," he whispered under his breath. But it was then he saw what was holding the kids up – a hippogriff? He looked at it in disbelief.

"Stand back!" Hermione yelled at him, and she took out her wand, while keeping a tight grasp on Harry, and cried, "Alohomora!"

Sirius was still semi in shock – Harry was there, on a Hippogriff no less.

"How – how –?" he muttered weakly still staring at the Hippogriff.

"Get on – there's not much time,' said Harry, gripping Hippogriff on either side of his sleek neck to hold him steady. "You've got to get out of here – the Dementors are coming. Macnair's gone to get them."

Those words quickly jolted Sirius out of his shock. Placing a hand on either side of the window frame, refusing to look down, he heaved his head and shoulders out of it – for the second time in the last twelve months sending silent thanks that his was so thin. In a few seconds, he somehow managed to fling one leg over the back of the Hippogriff and pull himself on behind Hermione.

"OK, Buckbeak, up!" said Harry, shaking the rope. "Up to the tower – come on!"

The Hippogriff, Buckbeak, gave one sweep of its mighty wings and they were soaring upwards, high as the top of West Tower, Sirius barely managing to hold in a laugh as the wind rushed past them. Buckbeak landed with a clatter on the battlements and Harry and Hermione slid off quickly, living Sirius on the hippogriffs back by himself.

Sirius looked down at Harry in slight wonder, trying to figure out how the boy before him had managed to do this – to rescue him – it was so much like James …

"Sirius, you'd better go, quick," Harry panted. "They'll reach Flitwick's office any moment, they'll find out you've gone."

Sirius almost nodded, then remembered something – What about the other friend, the Weasley boy who Peter had knocked out after hehad already broke the boys leg?

Buckbeak pawed the ground, tossing his head.

"What happened to the other boy? Ron?" said Sirius urgently, he had to know, had to know the rat hadn't broken another friendship.

"He's going to be OK – he's still out of it, but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be able to make him better. Quick – go!"

Sirius felt some sense of relief pass through him, but he couldn't help but to continue staring at Harry, taking in the sight as he had waited to do for 13 years – he looked so much like James … but Lily's eyes.. And tonight he had done more for Sirius then Sirius had ever done for him, even though it should have been him, Sirius, protecting Harry for all those years.

"How can I ever thank –' he started, but Harry and Hermione cut him off, shouting, "GO!"

He wheeled Buckbeak around, facing the open sky which was inviting him into freedom.

With one last look at Harry he said, "We'll see each other again. You are – truly your father's son, Harry …'

He squeezed Buckbeak's sides with his heels and out of the corner of his eyes saw Harry and Hermione jump back as the enormous wings rose once more. Then he rose into the air … the wind rushing past him. Looking behind him, he watched Hogwarts castle become smaller and smaller till a cloud blocked it from view.

At last he couldn't help himself, he let out a loud whoop. Peter had escaped; he was still on the run; but he was free; he wasn't getting the kiss; and people, Harry and Moony amongst them, believed him. As soon as there was a chance and he was somewhere safe he would have to write to Harry, to his godson. There was so much he wanted to tell him. And, well, as long as he was careful, he wouldn't be caught. Hopefully, eventually they'd catch Peter, and when those idiots at the ministry finally decided to listen, he still had a chance at one day being free.

But for now, he needed to find somewhere safe.

"What do you say to some international travel, hey," he said to Buckbeak. So they turned slightly and headed out of Scotland, and, for Sirius, into freedom. He had been given a second chance, and he was going to use every little bit of it, to live and to, perhaps more importantly, protect.