It was abnormally hot for September. Even for a country so close to the equator, and mostly filled by desert sands.

A cool pool in the yard, anywhere under the generous shade of tree, was the best way to hide from the unforgiving heat.

"David! Don't eat that!" shouted Odette's fat, short godmother to one of the twins, which were happily digging around in the sandpit.

"Oh my," she fretted, "they are probably hungry."

"Probably," Odette agreed, not really listening. She was enjoying the few quite minutes she got away from the twins, floating on her back.

"And it's always like this! Lena, shamelessly ,leaves them to me and then disappears…" Her voice started get more and more quite, before disappearing inside the house.

It was the second day of Odette's stay at her godmother's mason. Tomorrow she would have to go back to the city, since she had work.

Odette splashed around a little in the pool and turned herself over, to look over at the sandpit. Neither David nor Alex were there. They must have gone inside to eat.

The blonde woman leisurely swam towards the edge of the pool and grabbed a strawberry from the elegant, antique bowl.

"Instead of eating strawberries all day and being hungry," came the frustrated voice of her godmother from the doors she disappeared through earlier, "you could come eat a proper meal with us." she suggested.

"Coming," was all Odette said. Her godmother was crazy when it came to food, so it was better not to argue.

She pushed herself out of the pool and grabbed the vibrant yellow towel, quickly dried herself of.

She walked quickly into the spacious living room, making a sharp turn to the right, though the archway, entering and equally spacious kitchen and dinning room.

Everyone was already there - the little blonde twins and their younger sister, their mother Lena, Lisa (her Godmother), Kelly - their neighbour, and James - Lena's wife.

She took a seat in the only available spot - between the twins and Lena, which promised to make the lunch rather difficult, but not at all unenjoyable.

After they were done with dessert, Odette excused herself from the discussion of motorbikes and current political events, kissed the children on their heads, and headed upstair to her room. She was dying to take the swimming suit off and take a nice, cold shower.

After drying herself off for the second time that day, she brushed her shoulder-length hair with the fuzzy, wooden hairbrush she had bought on her trip to Russia almost five years ago. She put in some hair oil she recently ordered online, and walked out of the washroom.

The second door to the right lead into her room. It had light pink linen curtains, a red patterned carpet, a four post white bed and a matching wardrobe that took one of the walls up entirely.

She padded over to the white nightstand, avoiding the white mirror. Reaching her phone, she unlocked it and set an alarm clock to ring in one hour.

She slipping under the pleasant green sheets, turned onto her side and closed her eyes.

She woke up against the same wall she always did.

The cell greeted her with darkness and cold. The storm raging outside greeted her with howling winds, the sound and scent of heavy rainfall, and the periodic flashes and rumble of thunder.

She looked up, searching for a pair of gold, blazing eyes. Instead of the familiar dog the size of a bear, there was a man sitting in the same spot Blacky always sat. His dark grey, stormy eyes bore into her.

"Where's Blacky?" was the first thing she thought of asking.

"Blacky?" he repeated her words in a british accent. He looked at her, an amused smile slowly stretching on his face. The man had freshly inked tattoos on his chest - the flesh underneath them was still red and irritated, also a little swollen, probably with infection. He was wearing stripped pants and shirt, that have known better days. He was skinny, bordering on unhealthy, his cheekbones sunken in, his eyes heavy with dark weights under them, and what seemed like, inside them. Once an undoubtably handsome man sat in front of her, now destroyed by a force unknown to her.

"Yes, the dog that was here last time!" she exclaimed nervously, disliking his aggressively self-confident expression.

"Did the dog introduce itself to you?" He let out a barking laugh, his eyes shining madly. It seemed that he had lost his mind a while back. She got up on shacking legs.

He laughed and laughed; Odette took several steps back, almost toppling over.

Finally after doubling over with laughter, he stopped.

His gaze snapped up to her and mad eyes met with liquid blue ones. His smile dropped.

"I'm sorry miss…" he said started almost conversationally, as if nothing had happened. His eyes were livid. He straightened out. He was tall, towering over everyone she knew. This didn't make him any less intimidating.

"A-anna," she lied, swallowing. It was better to say something, before he made her say it.

"Miss Anna, what a lovely name," it would have been charming, if this whole situation wasn't so uncomfortable. She stared at him.

"Well, Miss Anna," he paused, "I've been here for three years now and there has never been a black dog around here," he said darkly, his eyes hard as stone. His wide, smile shoulders where hunched over in a predatory way.

"But I'm sure there was," she argued with less confidence than she would have liked, "only last month when I was here…" she paused. She didn't know why she even bothered to argue over something as irrelevant as this. Especially in a dream.

"Then you are mistaken," he turned away sharply from her.

Odette couldn't say that she preferred this man to the dog. The dog seemed a lot nicer, even though it looked scarier. He was crazy, she knew.

"But I'm not mistaken," for some reason she just couldn't let this go. Thunder rumbled outside.

He sat down on the floor, leaned on the wall where Blacky always used to sit. He pulled a knee up and draped him right arm on it.

"Why is this so important to you?" he looked at her from under his straight, black, unwashed hair.

She didn't answer.

She continued to stand there, listening to the wind howl. She was almost considering walking up to the window to find the cloaked figure. She stared out the window in search for her escape.

"You probably don't want to look out there for too long," the man spoke up again, warning clear in his tone.

"Or what?" Although she knew exactly was will happen, she tested the man.

"You want to try?"

She looked at his unreadable expression. His eyes were no longer glistening with madness. Their wills clashed.

"I think I know what you mean," she gave in, turning her head away from the window.

She moved to sit on the stone cot, her back to the the window, "What are these shadowy things anyways? I saw them last time," she asked, crossing her legs under her, shuddering a little at the thought.

"Dementors," was all he said. She didn't understand.

"What are Dementors?" she asked in a child-like manner.

He looked at her like she was crazy.

"The guardians of Azakaban," he explained somewhat reluctantly, "they are native to this region, and were said to have been created by Ekrizdis himself."

That raised more questions that it answered.

"What is Azkaban?"

Lighting struck outside, momentarily illuminating the room.

"We are in Azkaban."

"But what is it? And why are we here?" she pressed.

"Azkaban is a prison," he didn't elaborate.

She opened her mouth to repeat her question, be he beat there to it.

"I was charged with murder," he spat out.

She froze. Now she was scared. Really scared. Her eyes widened and looked away from his face. She shot up from her place on the cot and ran to the corner, as far away from him as she could.

He bolted up, chasing after her, not that there was anywhere for her to run. He grabbed her by the wrist spinning her around. He saw with a horrified expression. She saw determination.

"A murder I did not commit," he said before she had the chance to scream.

She didn't seem to believe him. He let her warm hand go. She moved away.

"If you didn't commit it, then why are you here?" she saw everything wrong with that question only after it left her mouth. Her back collided with a wall.

"They framed me," he shouted, his eyes blazing, his hand reaching towards her again.

"Why should I believe you?" He retracted his hands.

They fell silent.

"You do not have to," he mumbled, turning around and heading back to his favoured spot on the floor, "just know that I have no intention of hurting you," he finished in a whisper.

"Good to know," she mumbled to herself, rubbing the wrist he had grabbed.

They didn't speak for some time after that.

Odette started getting bored, her fear slowly drifting away. Over the time that passed in silence, only broken by the sounds of the storm outside, she studied the man that sat wordless, looking out through the window - he truly did not seem evil, nor violent. Mustering up all of her audacity and courage she asked:

"What is your name?"

He looked at her, his puppy-like eyes wide with surprise.

"Sirius Black," he might not look like a serial killer, but his name certainly sounded like one's.

"Isn't Sirius a star?" she tried to made some kind of conversation with a murderer, in a prison cell.

"Yes, it's a family tradition," he answered, looking at her.

"It's a nice tradition," she said, fully meaning it.

He smiled a bit. It was a sad sort of smile.

"How did you end up here?" he asked suddenly.

"I don't know," she let out slowly, "I just woke up here once every month for the last three months. Including today."

He didn't say anything, but his raised eyebrow told her he didn't believe her.

They continued to study one another.

"What do your tattoos mean?" she asked, unable to bare the silence and his stare anymore.

Before she could hear his answer, music started playing. It was coming from everywhere and nowhere in particular. In was soft… annoyingly soft.

"Can you hear that?" she asked, interrupting whatever he was saying.

"Hear what?"

"THAT," she said in frustration, and started singing along with the irritating tune.

"No, I cant her anything," his accent made his words sound very melodic.

The noise became louder, and she shut her ears against it, only to realise the noise was in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and the noise subsided. She opened her eyes.

Automatically she reached for her phone on her nightstand and turned the alarm off.