Author's note: all information that I did not make up come from several chapters in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, by J.K. Rowling

Chapter 10: The Rat on a Boy's Shoulder

I'm innocent. I thought with all of my might. Peter is the real criminal, and I'm innocent.

After nearly twelve years spent in Azkaban I had learned to focus on the fact that I had committed no crime. The frightening dementors that were incessantly lurking outside my jail cell could only suck the happy thoughts out of me, and that was definitely not a happy thought. It was the only thing that kept me from becoming insane. Whenever the gloomy dementors and screaming criminals became too much to bear, I would transform myself into a dog and curl up in the corner of my cell. The dementors had trouble sensing my emotions, because they were weaker as a dog, and I confused them. The dementors most likely assumed I was wasting away, just like all of the other prisoners, but that wasn't the case. I knew I had a tremendous advantage in case I ever had to escape, because I could fool the dementors easily. The one person I couldn't fool however was Cornelius Fudge.

Every once in a while, Fudge would come down to the dungeon to check on the prisoners. On one of these visits, he stopped in front of my cell, stared at me for a moment, and smiled.

"Well, Black, you seem to be in fine condition, even after being here for twelve years! I don't know how you do it!" Fudge exclaimed, shaking his head.

I explained to him that because I knew I was innocent, I was able to retain my sanity. My voice was weak and strained, but I was still lucid enough for him to understand.

Cornelius Fudge laughed. "Sirius Black, you are definitely not innocent. But if it makes you feel better…er…worse, you can believe whatever you want. Here you go, here's something to read." Fudge stuck his hand through the bars of my cell and handed me his newspaper.

I didn't begin to read the paper until Fudge had left. It was a good idea too, because the article on the front page caught my eye:

MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE

It wasn't the headline that got my attention; it was the photograph beneath it. In the photo, a family of nine was waving in front of a pyramid. Sitting on the youngest boy's shoulder was none other than Peter Pettigrew. Quickly, I began to read the article.

"Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon draw.

"A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, 'We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank.'

"The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend."

(Newspaper article can be found in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, by J.K. Rowling, on page 8.)

After reading the article, I was infuriated. Peter Pettigrew was alive and free to go wherever the Weasleys went, and since the boy was going to Hogwarts in the fall, I was sure Peter would be going too. I didn't want him going anywhere near Hogwarts, especially since I knew you were there. He had already betrayed James and Lily, so who knew what other damage he could cause. I knew my escape from Azkaban was crucial, but I just didn't know how to go about it.

I needed several days to cook up a plan. Every night, I slept restlessly, and talked to myself, saying, "Hogwarts! He's at Hogwarts!" I was aware of what I was doing, and I hoped I wouldn't give away my plan.

After several days of waiting, the day finally came when I could test out my plan. Every night, the dementors brought me dinner, and every night it was always the same thing: a hard, stale loaf of bread and a small bowl of cold split-pea soup, which tasted like it had been made the day before and was never heated up. It wasn't very appetizing, but it was all I had, and I needed energy if I wanted to escape.

One evening, however, I decided not to eat. Instead, I slip past the dementors as a dog, thoroughly confusing them. Once out of my cell, I fled down the hallway, up the stairs, and out of the dungeon. I swam to the mainland, and then set out for Hogwarts. However, there was one short detour I didn't count on.

Before long, I was in Magnolia Crescent, which, as you know, is part of muggle London. I was trotting down a dark lonely alley when suddenly, I froze. I couldn't believe my eyes, yet standing right in front of me was James. But it wasn't the James I said good bye to twelve years earlier; this James was still a child, about thirteen years old. With a start, I realized it wasn't James I was looking at, it was you. I was stunned to discover how much you looked like James, and wondered what you were doing in muggle London, all alone.

"Lumos," I heard you whisper, and a bright wand appeared from the end of your wand.

It was obvious you sensed my presence. When you spotted me, I knew you were frightened. You quickly stepped backward, and tripped over your trunk. Almost as soon as you hit the ground, there was a loud bang, and the Knight Bus appeared. You climbed aboard it, and the bus drove away. Having just found you, I didn't want to let you out of my sight for very long, so I followed.

The Knight Bus took you to the Leaky Cauldron. You stayed there for a while, and then went to Hogwarts. I followed you, of course and tried to learn everything I could about you.

When Christmas came, I knew I had to buy you a present. I had no idea what to get you, when suddenly it came to me. Since your love for Quitditch was as great as your father's, I decided to give you a brand new Firebolt. As I explained in an earlier letter to you, Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, brought the order to the Owl Office, and it was settled. I only wish I could have seen your face on Christmas morning. That would have meant the world to me.

On the day of your Quitditch final, I decided to take a risk and watch the game. The stands were filled with cheering – or booing – Gryffindors and Slytherins, and even most, if not all of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were there as well. I, however, had to watch the game a short distance away, hidden in the Forbidden Forest. Despite the fact that I was in hiding, I could see every detail of the game, including the moment when you captured the Snitch, winning the Cup. It was one of the first times I was proud to be your godfather, and it certainly wasn't the last.