~*~Chapter One~*~

Sunday, August 22, 1992. Cell # 13.

Sirius Black slept silently, huddled in the corner of his cell. Sleep and dreams in Azkaban were privileges that Sirius hardly enjoyed. If a good dream came to him, it would usually dissolve into a nightmare. The dementors always seemed to be extra fond of him.

Sirius opened his heavy eyes and his heart sank when he recognized his familiar surroundings: three dark grey stone walls, a lamp, a sink, a toilet, and cold metal bars in front. His beautiful dream was over.

Each day, Sirius felt himself being robbed of his humanity more and more.

Upon the death of Lily and James and upon Peter's betrayal, Sirius no longer considered himself to possess a heart.

Upon entering the prison, Sirius Black, the egotistical, witty, handsome boy of the past had died and in his place was something foreign, cold, and incredibly angry.

Sirius did not realize it would be this hard or damn impossible to survive in such a desolate place. A place with no love, no peace, no understanding, no mercy...

How he hated this existence. How he hated himself.

Would he ever escape this eternal suffering?

The sound of Fudge's voice and sharp hunger pain in his stomach was enough to dissipate his thoughts.

Using his limited strength, he lifted himself and crawled over to the bars to see the reason for the minister's visit. Fudge was talking animately to one of the few human guards as he sauntered down the hall.

Sirius tried to call out to Fudge, but he found it difficult for his throat to make any sound. He hardly talked at all anymore and his voice was drastically out of practice. After a few failed tries and a cough, Sirius managed to softly call, "Fudge."

Startled, the minister stopped a few feet from Sirius' cell. The minister put on his bland, toothy smile as he looked into Sirius' gaunt face.

"How we doing today, Black? The dementors treating you well?" Fudge asked with cruel cheeriness in his voice.

Sirius hated that face and everything else that was Fudge.

"Just dandy. Are you finished with your Prophet?" Sirius asked as he held out his bony hand. Often when the minister would visit, Sirius would manage to wrestle a prophet from Fudge. How much damage could a criminal cause with a couple pages of paper, besides a few paper cuts?

"Yes, actually." Fudge said, tossing it onto the floor and ignoring the outstretched palm. "Nothing good in this one, anyway."

Sirius grabbed it hastily and was immediately drawn to the front picture. The Weasley's smiling faces nor the Pyramids of Egypt were enough to capture his attention. No. Sirius was drawn to the rat in the youngest boy's hands. After gazing at the picture for a few moments, he knew. He could identify that rat anywhere. He was the reason he was here, the reason his reputation was forever ruined. The only reason he needed to stay alive...

Sirius could feel the hatred in his chest, pulsing with the rhythm of his heartbeat. And yet, Sirius couldn't help but find the situation hilarious. Peter Pettigrew was a fool.

Suddenly, Sirius burst into his loud, bark-like laughter.

Fudge jumped at the outburst and nervously stumbled as Sirius' laughter began to echo around the prison's walls. Other convicts began to add on to Sirius' laughter, banging against their cell bars and shouting amongst each other. Their adrenaline had peaked with Sirius' energy.

Fudge began to plug his ears with his hands and shouted to the guards.

Within moments, Sirius could feel the familiar chill begin to surround him. With all his might, Sirius fought against the hooded monsters and continued laughing. He wanted to laugh at the dementors and Fudge. He wanted to defy the people who kept him locked away.

Yet, with Sirius' defiance, the dementors became more eager in controlling him. The next wave of cold became so sudden and intense that Sirius felt they took all the air out of his lungs.

Sirius couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He grabbed his throat and tried to breathe, yet the dementors weren't letting him. His head had started to spin.

Sirius fell towards the ground, cold and shaking, as utter darkness filled his every pore.

Friday, August 27th, 1992. Cell #13.

Sirius awoke from another nightmare.

Sirius wiped the cold sweat from his brow as he tried to compose himself. Since his black-out Sunday night, his nightmares have been getting worse: visions of Harry being choked, hexed, and killed at the hand of the person he hated most.

Only one thought remained in his mind after these nightmares: Peter Pettigrew must die.

Harry was the only family he had left. Harry was now the only beacon of hope that was left in his life. He would be damned to let anything happen to that hope, no matter how many times the dementors left him bare.

Sirius silenced his thoughts when he heard Fudge's voice by his cell. Since his visit on Sunday, Fudge had been in to visit Azkaban everyday. Sirius strained his ear to listen. "Indeed...but Black has definitely lost his mind. It was only a matter of time. Nobody can survive Azkaban with their mind intact." Fudge said.

"You're not listening to what I'm saying. Black has been shouting in his sleep about Harry and Peter. Couldn't this be something serious?" An Unknown speaker said. "We don't know what Black's capable of."

"I don't like your tone Mr. Rudy. We have been taking precautions for days with nothing happen and it's costing us a fortune!" Fudge said.

"You're right, sir. I'm sorry I even proposed such a thought."

"You know it's impossible to escape Azkaban. Even if he tried, the dementors would be on him in an instant."

"You're absolutely right, sir. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Nevertheless...your proposition was for the best of the magical world. Let's meet with corporate for a chat to ease ourselves. I'm scheduled for tea at eleven, so let's make this quick, yes?"

Sirius shuddered as he heard their voices dimming away.

Peter has Harry nearly in his grasp. I can feel it.

E. It was the forbidden "E" word in Azkaban. A word that entered his mind everyday.

Should I risk it? Is it worth it? Can I do it?

Desperation had reached its peak long ago and now Sirius was on the brink of madness...if he wasn't mad already.

Today was the day. Again the constant mantra repeated in his stream of consciousness:

Peter Pettigrew must DIE.

Anxiety, determination, desperation were spinning inside his head. With Fudge and the human guards temporarily distracted, he needed to act. Who knew when and if this opportunity would come again?

Quickly, Sirius transformed into Padfoot, forcing doubt out of his mind.

Sirius' first obstacle was getting through the bars of his cell. Sirius hadn't eaten in two days and hoped this would make him skinny enough to slip through.

Slowly...

One paw, two paw, three paw, four.

Oh, how sore his muscles were! When was the last time he walked?

Sirius cringed when he saw two dementors gliding towards him. Silently, he leaned against his cell once more and waited for them to pass. Their blindness was assisting him with this heist greatly.

Slowly, Sirius walked behind them and noticed a small, open window located at the end of the hall.

Too easy...

Closer and closer he came until finally he stood a few centimeters away and saw the rolling waves crashing against the walls of the prison, leaving a white foam in their wake.

If I die in this fall...

Panic began to overwhelm his senses as he heard a door slam behind him. Quickly, Sirius swallowed his fear and jumped to the grey ocean below.

It took three hours for the large, black dog to swim to shore. Rain pounded against the Earth in angry sheets and wind zipped past Sirius' body. Sirius shivered against the elements as he began to walk the streets of the English countryside. He found it an ironic surprise that a few miles from Azkaban lay the quiet muggle village of Brighton. It was a small village filled with hut-like houses that reminded him of when he lived with James during their last years of school. He longed to go back to those years: the carefree age of his adolescence. Sirius pushed the thoughts away. Those memories were so distant that he couldn't bring himself to fully think about them.

Sirius' exhaustion and hunger were beginning to overwhelm him as his muscles begged for rest and his drenched skin begged for shelter. However, he could not stop. Not yet.

Where do I go? Where do I go?

Another whisk of wind.

What do I do? Must find Harry. Must Find Peter. Kill Peter. Peter must die.

Suddenly, a woman was slowly approaching him; the only person that occupied the stormy street. Squinting his eyes, Sirius noticed that she was a muggle, based on her attire and umbrella. The world was beginning to spin.

A hallucination maybe?

And then, her face.

Red hair...light eyes...she looked exactly like...

No! You're dead!

Sirius slowly started to back away before turning to run in the opposite direction. His legs were heavy and too tired to carry him, making him trip on the hard pavement.

Get Up! Get Up! Not real, she's not real. Must find Harry...

The world around him began to spin more and more and he could no longer keep control.

Lily? He mentally asked himself as he fell unconscious towards the ground.

A/N:

Hello Readers! Thank you to everyone who has been reading/following my story! I always appreciate reviews and I take them very seriously.

I am an American, so if I accidentally throw some American slang in there, I deeply apologize! I am doing my best to sound British =p.

I have also edited each Chapter and I am changing some elements of my story. I also deeply apologize for taking so insanely long to update. I am in nursing school right now and it is very hard to find time to write. I do plan on finishing this story, but I cannot promise it will be written in a short amount of time. Please be patient with me!

Thanks again for the favorites and reviews! Let's finish this story together!

-Ashley