A/N: Great big thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed and the like! This story has been close to my heart for a while now, and I'm so enjoying sharing it with you and hearing your feedback! You're all fabulous, and I hope you enjoy this new chapter! Just as a heads up, little Harry will be joining the story very soon! Enjoy, and let me know what you think!
Chapter 3
For the third time in four days, Remus Lupin found himself approaching Azkaban Prison, signing himself in, feeling the chill of the dementors, and entering the small room reserved for the few visitors that ever came to see the forgotten prisoners of this god-forsaken place. His mood was considerably lighter now that he knew the truth about Sirius Black, but there was still a long road ahead of them both. Dumbledore promised to expedite the proceedings as much as possible, but it could still be days before Sirius was freed, and the guilt Remus had carried since he learned of his friend's innocence only grew worse as he approached the dark, cold prison. His own life had been bleak for the last five years, but it had been nothing compared to what Sirius endured. Even being in proximity to the place made Remus feel cold and full of despair, and Sirius had lived in here for every miserable hour of the last five agonising years.
When Sirius Black was dragged out and once more dropped at the table, Remus could barely contain his emotion. Sirius had further worsened since the memory extraction…likely because of the memory extraction, in which he was once more forced to relive what he had done out of love for James and Lily and Harry, out of his misguided attempt to protect them, even from himself. This time he could not support his own weight even a little, and he had to be carried out of the cell by the shoulders. He could barely sit up, and he shook to the point of convulsing.
"Padfoot," Remus whispered, handing him a large chunk of chocolate. Sirius didn't take it, instead letting it fall to the table. "Padfoot, eat the chocolate," he instructed gently. But Sirius was fading, his mind not his own and the effects of the dementors on his frail body more pronounced than ever. Remus had been afraid of this last night when he saw just how bad Sirius's condition truly was, but he had hoped that he would be somewhat restored today. Instead, he seemed worse than ever. "I'm taking you away from here, Sirius," he told his old friend, hoping that would reach him and give him the will to survive. "Please eat the chocolate. You're going to be free, Sirius. We know the truth now. I know you didn't betray them." He pushed the chocolate closer, then reached for a bony hand to try to guide him to it.
But Sirius was not aware of anything, even the hand grasped around his. Fingers touched, but did not feel, the restorative chocolate in front of him. At a loss, Remus rose from his seat and once more picked up the chocolate. Carefully, he sat down next to Sirius and broke the chocolate into small, manageable pieces.
"Eat," he directed. Sirius just stared at the piece of sweets, and so Remus carefully forced his mouth open and set the chocolate on his tongue until Sirius had to swallow or choke. He continued with the process until Sirius came around a bit, and then finally, his friend was able to feed himself.
"Moony," he whispered in recognition when he had finished the bar.
"It's me," he nodded reassuringly, keeping his voice soothing and gentle. "Everything will be all right now, Padfoot. Dumbledore is going to the Wizengamot tomorrow. Soon everyone will know that you're innocent. In a day or two you'll be free," he promised.
But Sirius was gone again, the little bit of chocolate not enough to restore him to sanity after all he had endured. Remus cursed himself for not finding another way to prove Sirius's innocence, and he cursed himself for having so little faith in his friend to begin with. He'd been all too quick to believe and far too late to ask questions. He had been so devastated by the deaths that he didn't allow himself to question why, when the answers could have led him to the truth and spared Sirius from five years of the worst torture imaginable. Sirius had his innocence to keep him holding on to his last vestiges of sanity, but his innocence must have also mocked him. Had he wondered why Remus didn't come for him? Had he wondered why no one came to his defense? How long did he wait for rescue, only to realise it was never coming? Remus was his last best hope, and it took him five long years to arrive.
Now, it seemed, the time for Sirius was running out. The mind was a fragile thing, and Sirius was pushed long past the breaking point. No one could guarantee whether his sanity could ever be fully restored, and now, it seemed his body was in no better shape than his mind. Forced to relive his last memories of Lily and James, forced to remember that he had, inadvertently, led them to destruction, he had given up. Remus handed him more chocolate, but once again Sirius was too distant to take it. Its effects were only minimal now anyway, not nearly enough to revive Sirius to anything approaching coherence. Remus was quickly beginning to realise that his old friend did not have time to wait for his official release. He didn't look like he could survive the night, and Dumbledore had warned Remus that it could be a matter of days or as much as a week before the Ministry was prepared to release him. Sirius could not live that long, not like this. Even if his body survived, his mind would truly be lost forever. "Padfoot," he whispered in agony, desperate to reach his friend. "It'll be a full moon next week. Remember the fun we used to have?"
His words did not reach Sirius, but suddenly, a thought occurred to Remus. Long ago, Sirius Black had sworn to him to always be there during the full moons, to run and play with him, to keep him from harming himself. But Sirius could only do that because of his Animagus form. Could they not now use that great black dog to their advantage once more? The Dementors, like his own werewolf form, recognised only humans. By turning into the dog, Sirius had a real chance to escape. Any other time, and it may not have worked. But Sirius was fading rapidly now, and the Dementors would have sensed his tenuous grasp on life. If he returned to his cell and then turned into his Animagus form, they would think he had simply died. There would be no immediate recognition that Sirius Black had escaped. They would not sense the dog leaving the cell, and it would be no surprise that life was no longer detected inside the cell. It bought Sirius precious time to escape, and then Remus would be waiting to help his friend the rest of the way to freedom and redemption and life.
It was risking his own freedom to assist an escape from Azkaban, and no one had ever accomplished such a feat anyway. But Remus was left with no options now. He let this happen to his friend, and would not stand by and let Sirius die. He lost too many people to lose his friend now, and Sirius deserved a chance to live again, to breathe fresh air, to eat and sleep and feel the sunshine warm on his skin after five years of nothing but cold and terror. Remus had never been more grateful that his friends had learned to transform; it was the only thing that could save Sirius now.
Now if he could only convince Sirius of the plan. He fed him more chocolate, explaining the plan in brief spurts only when Sirius showed signs of awareness and understanding, but even then he couldn't be sure how much his friend was truly absorbing. "Padfoot, you have to listen," he insisted desperately, wanting to reach over and shake his friend but afraid of how he would react. "You're going to get free so you can see Harry again, but you have to listen."
Instantly, Sirius perked up and looked Remus in the eye for the first time. "Harry," he whispered.
"Yes!" he all but shouted in triumph, finally discovering the key that would free them. Perhaps it should have been obvious all along that Harry held the answer. He had held their hope six years ago, and he held their hope now. Sirius had loved the boy like his own, and he had spent five long years without being able to see his godson grow. "Think about Harry, Sirius," he encouraged. "He's six years old now, can you believe that? Little Harry is six. And you'll see him very soon. I bet he looks just like his dad now. He did always take after James more than Lily. Maybe his eyes have finally turned green, though."
"Harry," Sirius repeated, a few tears leaking out of his eyes.
"You'll be declared innocent soon, Padfoot, and then he'll be yours to raise. That's what James and Lily wanted. You'll teach him about his parents, about Quidditch, about the Marauders."
"Take me, Moony," he pleaded. "Take me to Harry."
"That's exactly what I'm going to do," he promised. "But I need you to listen. You have to go back to your cell just long enough. Just a minute or two," he said quickly as he saw Sirius begin to panic. "Then you'll transform. You still remember how, don't you?"
Sirius nodded quickly, tears still running down his dirty cheeks.
"They can't sense you when you're in your Animagus form. You can slip out. I'll be waiting for you," he promised. He hadn't quite worked out how he would leave the island without raising suspicions about his sudden companion, but he could work that out later, once Sirius was out of here and away from the Dementors. "Do you understand? You need to become Padfoot. We'll be running together at the next full moon," he vowed.
"Harry," Sirius whispered once more.
"Yes, Sirius. You'll see Harry. Promise me you understand what you have to do."
"Padfoot," he nodded. "And then Harry."
Remus couldn't help smiling, just a little, at his friend's persistence. He wondered once more how he had ever doubted Sirius, but there would be time for guilt later. For now, he needed to keep Sirius aware and functioning just long enough to get out. "Here," he said, handing Sirius another full bar of chocolate. "Eat as much of this as you can." Sirius accepted and ate like the starving man that he was. "Now tell me again," Remus demanded, hoping that reinforcement would keep the thought in Sirius's mind long enough to do him some good. "Tell me the plan, Sirius."
"Padfoot," he repeated. "Come to you. Harry."
"Exactly. Wonderful," he praised his friend. They stayed together just a bit longer, but then the Dementors appeared at the door and Remus knew their time was up. He glanced across the table at his friend, locking eyes and praying that Sirius would continue with the lucidity long enough to carry out their plan. "Harry," he reminded him quietly one last time. Sirius nodded and rose weakly, barely able to hold himself up. Remus could only hope he had the strength to transform tonight, but before he could ask any last questions, the guard roughly grabbed Sirius and dragged him out the door.
For all the security on the island, it was shockingly easy to rid himself of the boat guides who would take him back to the mainland. Azkaban relied so heavily on the Dementors that the few wizard guards weren't the brightest of the lot, and it was hard to recruit the best for a job in such close quarters with the darkest creatures one could encounter. A few quick Stunning Spells and a few body binds later, just for security, and Remus had procured a boat in which to escape without alerting anyone. He made sure to obliviate, though he would be under suspicion soon enough. It would perhaps buy them just enough time for Dumbledore to explain to the Ministry, and he trusted the Headmaster to clear his name as well should the Ministry come after him. The important thing now was Sirius, and the black dog had yet to appear.
Remus paced anxiously beside the water, desperately watching for signs of his friend. He'd told Sirius to wait just a minute or two before transforming, and it shouldn't take more than a few minutes to navigate out. It had been close to twenty now, and still no signs of Sirius. Remus was growing alarmed, worried that Sirius had lost himself once more, that the dementors had simply been too much for his weakened friend. "Come on, come on," he whispered. Another ten minutes passed, and Remus's hope was growing dim.
Then he appeared. At the top of the hill, just outside the prison, Remus spotted a large black dog against the silhouette of the waxing moon. He couldn't recall ever being so happy to see his friend in his Animagus form, even on those lonely nights when he scratched and mutilated his own skin out of frustration. Whistling lowly to get Sirius's attention, his heart leapt with joy as the dog bounded towards him. "You've done it!" Remus cried happily when Sirius approached. Even as his Animagus form he was far too thin and haggard, looking for all the world like a mangy stray found in a dark alley somewhere, but he was here and he was alive, and it was more than Remus could have hoped for.
He helped Sirius into the boat, quickly shoving off. Soon they could leave Azkaban behind and never look on it again. The quicker they got away from the shore, the better Sirius would feel. It was a long, cold trip across the tossing waves, but the Dementors would fade away, and freedom lurked just on the other side. "Stay in your Animagus," Remus warned his companion as they began to drift away from the island. "We're still too close. If we're caught, jump into the water and swim," he insisted. The dog's eyes widened and he whimpered a bit in displeasure with the plan. He laid his nose on Remus's lap, and Remus couldn't help giving him an affectionate scratch behind the ear. "We won't be caught," he added to appease his friend. "Now curl up and sleep."
Sirius wasted no time obeying, curling up at Remus's feet and promptly falling asleep. Remus could feel the effects of the dementors weakening as they made it further and further from the island, and the heavy depression of recent weeks began to lift as Remus realised they were very nearly there. Sirius was free, and in a few days' time, his name would be completely cleared. His old friend was not a traitor at all, and Remus was no longer alone. He hadn't even realised what a relief it was until now, until his friend was here by his side breathing fresh air for the first time in five years. Sirius lost five years of his life, and nothing would ever atone for that. But he was only 27 years old, a whole lifetime still ahead of him. Things were different now than they had been when Sirius had been shipped off to prison, different than they had been when they left Hogwarts. Voldemort hadn't been seen since the night James and Lily were murdered, and things were peaceful again, mending. Sirius could do whatever he wanted now, become whoever he wanted. Back then, there had been only the Order of the Phoenix, only a life of fighting Voldemort. With the Dark Lord gone and his name cleared, Sirius could put all the darkness behind him and just be happy.
Of course, nothing could ever be truly wonderful without James and Lily at their side, but Harry was still alive, and now Remus could see him, too. For these five long years, he hadn't been able to see the boy he so dearly loved. As a werewolf, no one would trust him around a small child, and The Boy Who Lived was more myth than reality. Only Remus and Sirius knew the truth about the boy, that he really was wonderful, but not because of what he'd done to destroy the Dark Lord but because of who he was – the son of James and Lily, the beloved first child of the friend who had meant everything to them. For five years Remus tried not to think on the boy, tried not to imagine what he looked like, who he'd become, if he was a mischievous as his father or as sweet as his mother. Now, he was free to entertain those thoughts once more, free to imagine their reunion. Harry would probably be surprised, and more than a little overwhelmed, but hopefully in time, he would come to adore them as much as they had adored him. There were so many stories to tell him about his parents, stories his Aunt Petunia wouldn't know about, stories that would have them all rolling with laughter.
Yes, life was finally looking up again. As soon as he got Sirius well, life could begin anew.
They finally reached shore again an hour later, and they were now outside the protective wards of Azkaban that prevented Apparition. Not wanting to startle Sirius too much, he gently attempted to shake him awake. It was then and only then that grim reality settled in once more and Remus realised just how bad off his friend really was. The transformation took enormous energy, and it was a wonder he had managed it at all in his current state. Now, the dog wouldn't wake. Remus could hear his own heart pounding in his ears as he tried again to rouse Padfoot. Despite how thin he had become, Sirius's Animagus form was still a very large and very formidable dog. It would be difficult to lift him from the boat, and the longer they delayed, the more danger they were in. "Padfoot," he tried once more, shaking as hard as he dared. Finally, luminous black eyes opened and stared up at him mournfully, and Remus was afraid the transformation back to human form would require far more energy than Sirius possessed at the moment. "Sirius," he spoke quietly but urgently. "I know you're tired, but I need to Apparate us back to my house. You need to transform. Just one more time," he vowed. For the Side-Along Apparation to work, he really needed Sirius to grasp onto his arm. Anything else was too much of a risk than they could afford at present, even though the transformation would likely rob Sirius of whatever strength he had left.
It took another moment, but soon Sirius was back in his human form. He instantly collapsed against his friend, and Remus held tight to his arms to keep him upright. As soon as Sirius's fingers grasped his arm, he visualised his own living room and then felt the familiar tug at his navel as they Apparated away. It had been quite a while since Remus had to bring someone along, and as soon as they landed his lost his grasp on Sirius. His friend instantly tumbled to the ground, his eyes blinking rapidly in shock and confusion.
"Sirius," Remus called, kneeling down beside him. "Stay awake, Sirius."
But it was no use. Sirius was already gone, his eyes fluttering closed and his head hitting the wood floor with a sickening thud. Panic flooded Remus's system once more, and it seemed this had all been a huge mistake. Sirius was sick, maybe dying, and he had just broken a man out of Azkaban. Every auror at the Ministry would soon be after him, and Sirius desperately needed a Healer. It was the only thing you could do, he reminded himself. You had to save Sirius tonight or he wouldn't have lasted.
With that thought in mind to assuage his conscience, he tossed a bit of Floo powder into the fireplace and stuck his head through as he called out his intended destination. Within a short instant, the placid face of Albus Dumbledore appeared before him. "Ah, Remus," he acknowledged pleasantly. "I rather thought I might be hearing from you tonight. I've just received a most interesting notice from the Ministry."
Remus's stomach churned with an inexplicable guilt, worsened by Dumbledore's calm acceptance. Of course the Headmaster already knew of his little transgression tonight and would not offer a single word of reproach. No, he would leave the punishment to Remus himself, as he had been wont to do during school. "Please understand, Professor," he begged. "I know it was rash and likely very stupid, but he wouldn't have lasted the night."
"You are aware the Ministry has already set their sights on an accomplice for their recent escapee?"
"Professor, I-"
"Nevertheless," Dumbledore cut him off, "I have explained our discovery, and though they will be launching an investigation promptly, they are withholding any formal charges until the situation can be fully examined."
Remus breathed a huge sigh of relief. Of course. Dumbledore had already taken care of it. "Thank you, Professor."
"I assume our mutual friend is safe with you?"
"Safe, but worse for wear, I'm afraid. You can't let them take him now," he pleaded. "It will kill him to go back."
"I have promised that I will personally account for the fugitive's whereabouts and that he will remain where he can be watched at all times until the matter can be resolved," Dumbledore explained, the tone of his voice remaining even. "I cannot promise you will not be dealt with severely, but it should at least buy some much needed time for all things to come to light."
"Thank you, Professor," he whispered again, shutting his eyes as he felt relief wash over him. Sirius was safe, for now, and no one would come after them. "There is one more thing. He's unwell. I need a Healer as soon as possible."
"How bad?"
Remus thought of the harsh, rattling breaths and his inability to wake Sirius. "Soon," was all he could manage.
"I will explain everything to Poppy Pomfrey and send her through immediately."
This time, the gratitude went unspoken. There simply weren't enough words for his relief. Dumbledore promised to send the Healer through as soon as he could explain the situation, and they bid each other a pleasant night. Remus instantly returned to his friend, still unconscious on the floor, and carefully gathered him up to lift him onto the sofa. Five years ago, it would have been a nearly impossible task. Tonight, Sirius was so slight it took barely any effort at all. "Help is coming, Padfoot," he promised as he positioned him on the beat up sofa and slipped a pillow beneath his head. His mother, God rest her soul, would have thrown a fit at the filth on her pillows. The Lupins never had much, especially after Remus was bitten, but she took great pride in keeping their shabby house as clean and decent as possible. Tonight, Remus couldn't bring himself to care that Sirius was beyond filthy. It only mattered that he was here, alive, and struggling quite valiantly to remain that way.
Remus sat beside the sofa, keeping a careful vigil over Sirius until Madam Pomfrey arrived.
"Remus?" the familiar voice called to him as she stepped out of the fire half an hour later. He didn't have to fake the smile as he rose to greet her; he knew her well from his days at Hogwarts, and she had been a godsend back then. In those days, it was even worse being a werewolf than it was now, and it was a blessed miracle that she had never, not even once, refused to treat him or shirked away from her duties in light of the monster he became once a month. Instead, she treated him as kindly as anyone he could remember in all his life, arriving promptly at moonset each month and escorting him back to the Hospital Wing, where she devotedly brought him restorative potions, mended any wounds that she could, made sure he got a solid, hot meal, and then forced him to rest most of the day. Her presence had always been a great comfort in the painful post-transformation period, and it was no less so now when Sirius was in such desperate need.
"Madam Pomfrey," he greeted. "Thank you for coming. I must apologise for the terrible situation, but-"
"Albus explained everything, my dear," she cut him off, patting him warmly on the arm. "It always was hard to believe it of Sirius. I remember the way he always turned up to see you. I kicked that boy from my ward many a time," she smiled gently.
It was meant as a kindness, but he still felt the sharp pang of his guilt. Poppy Pomfrey struggled to believe the lies about him, but Remus Lupin had found it all too easy. Forcing the thoughts from his mind, he tried to focus on the immediate problem of Sirius's health. "Azkaban has not been kind to him," he explained. "I think he's sick as well."
"Let's see him then."
Her warm smile instantly dropped as she looked over her patient. "Oh dear," she sighed, immediately pulling out her bag as she went to work running diagnostic spells, preparing potions, and writing notes on a parchment. Remus watched her work for over a half an hour, a bit disturbed that Sirius didn't even notice the Healer's work as she shifted him and examined him for injuries. "Poor boy," she muttered as she fussed over Sirius. "Been through the ringer, this one has."
"Will he be all right?" Remus asked anxiously.
"As you said, Azkaban has not been kind to him," she agreed sadly. "He's badly malnourished. Nutritional potions will work wonders, as well as plenty of food when he's well enough, but I don't like the state of these lungs," she remarked worriedly. "Or this fever. I suspect he's been too weak to fight off infections that would not normally phase a wizard."
"What does that mean?" he asked nervously.
Madam Pomfrey reached for the blanket from the back of the sofa and tenderly tucked it around Sirius's bony shoulders. "He'll need quite a few potions to help him fight this. He's very weak, so it will take some time. I would like to see him in St. Mungo's for this sort of thing, but I understand the situation is a bit complicated."
"A bit," he agreed humourlessly.
"Don't fret, dear," she tried to reassure him, even as her own worried eyes surveyed Sirius once more. "Plenty of food and rest should do the trick, along with about a dozen potions. I can come by to help you, of course, but I'm afraid I can't stay with you while school is in session. Do you think you can manage the potions?"
"Yes, of course," he nodded.
"Right then," she smiled wanly. "I can leave detailed instructions, and you'll need them. He must get the proper potions in the right amounts precisely according to my schedule. He needs strengthening draughts, nutritional potions, as well as several more specific potions to treat this infection."
"I can do it," he vowed.
"As soon as he becomes a little more aware, you can begin giving him food and drink, but make sure he receives only clear liquids for now. He's not strong enough for anything more. In a few days, you can probably begin giving him something a bit more substantial. Don't let him move about more than necessary, and for goodness sake, keep him warm."
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," he nodded gratefully.
"No need to thank me. Just take care of this one, and make certain to Floo over if you need anything, all right?"
"I will," he promised. Madam Pomfrey carefully administered the potions as Remus helped support Sirius's head, then proceeded to write out all the instructions as promised before returning to Hogwarts through the fire. Once she was gone, Sirius seemed to be resting a bit easier. Remus would feel better moving him to the far more comfortable guest bedroom, but Madam Pomfrey had warned him against excessive movement. The sofa was a vast improvement over where he had been sleeping, but it still seemed such an injustice that he was finally free but unable to even crawl into a warm, comfortable bed.
What have we done to you? Remus wondered as he watched his friend's chest rise and fall in ragged breaths. That he lived at all was testament to his strength and tenacity, but the skeletal frame on his threadbare sofa looked nothing like the friend he remembered, the strong, invincible bulwark who had always been there and always protected him. Sirius couldn't fight a light breeze as weak as he was, and Remus felt the heavy burden of responsibility, the painful knowledge that he had done nothing. If it had been the other way around, what would Sirius have done? His friend likely suspected him of being the traitor or he would have been chosen as the Secret Keeper, but there had never been questions or accusations. Sirius and James protected him, even when they feared he was betraying them. If he had been accused of selling Lily and James to Voldemort, Sirius probably would have stormed the gates of Azkaban demanding answers. Remus had not been so bold, and Sirius was the one who suffered.
Sirius would not awaken again today. Madam Pomfrey's potions had seen to that. Remus could escape to his own bedroom and sleep away this dark night, but his conscience would not allow it. Instead, he dragged a chair over next to the sofa and sank his weary bones into it. Sirius was sleeping peacefully for the first time in years, most likely, and Remus carefully reached out to lay a hand on his arm, trying not to shudder as he easily felt bone beneath the skin. "It's going to be all right now, Padfoot," he whispered. "Rest and get better."
Sirius did not move, but he was safe and he was warm and the potions would gradually restore him. We miss you, James, he thought as he allowed his eyes to flutter closed. But we're finally going to make everything right again.
