Harry Potter and His New Beginning
Hello my friends and loyal readers! I apologise for my long absence from updating my stories! I have been dealing with some personal issues and lost any inspiration to write for you! After getting a lot of reviews asking why I wasn't writing, I decided I had been away long enough. I will try to start writing again routinely! Thank you for your continued support!
Anyway, this is a little chapter which I decided to post to fill the gap while I get writing again! This should answer some of the questions the readers had been asking a while back!
So without further ado, I give you Chapter 11!
Chapter 11: Grim Tidings from Azkaban
On a small island in the middle of the North Sea, colossal waves crashed against the great stone fortifications of the wizarding prison known as Azkaban. The salt from the sea air burned the nostrils of the castle's occupants, and fear blanketed the island like a dark veil.
The everlasting storm which battered the fortress prevented even the smallest glimmer of sunlight through its black cloud cover. The inmates had not seen daylight since their incarceration. When you were a prisoner of Azkaban, the days, weeks, months and even years blurred together like an unending nightmare.
The prison was like something out of the darkest and most depraved dreams of a demon.
The shouts, screams and cries of the prisoners created a disturbing cacophony of noise which made visitors to the island shiver in fear. For some of these prisoners, it was hard to understand what they could have possibly done to condemn themselves to the perpetual nightmare that was Azkaban Prison.
However, at the very peak of the fortress, in the most fortified portion of the structure, was the high security wing of Azkaban. Inside its walls, resided the darkest, cruellest, malevolent elements of British wizarding society, trapped for eternity within.
If you looked at the faces of the men and women imprisoned in the corridors of the high security wing, you were looking at the faces of pure evil. Each inmate had murdered hundreds of people and was each a serial killer in their own right.
Of these prisoners, the majority had served the darkest wizard to ever walk the earth, as his minions: Lord Voldemort. Despite the fall of their master and his disappearance, they remained deluded as to his continued existence. When the ministry guards patrolled the wing on their daily inspection of Azkaban, they were always welcomed with the manic, insane ranting of deluded men and women, all loyal to a dead man.
"Our Lord will return…!"
"…our master will be reborn…!"
"…he will free us…!"
"…we will be rewarded for our loyalty!"
There was only one exception to rule governing the occupants of Azkaban's high security wing. Whenever the guards inspected the prison, there was one cell which remained perpetually silent. The occupant never yelled, never cried, and never screamed. Both the other inmates and the guards had tried to provoke a reaction from the prisoner, but they always failed. He never responded, never rose to their comments. He just waited.
The infamous mass murderer Sirius Orion Black sat huddled in the corner of his cell, attempting to keep the biting cold at bay. Breathing harshly into his hands, a column of steam rose from his mouth to the ceiling, fading as it rose. Shuddering slightly, he looked up to see the foreboding and intimidating presence of a Dementor near his cell.
Despite having been a resident of Azkaban for over ten years, he had never gotten used to their malevolent, draining aura. The nightmarish creature seemed to stare at him, its shrouded face covering its features, a line of raspy breaths emerging from beneath its cloak, before it glided away to torment another prisoner. The Dementors of Azkaban had learnt a long time ago that there were no happy thoughts to be had from this particular cell.
Sirius Black had no happy thoughts left in his body.
As he pulled his tattered robes around him as much as possible, his eyes began to close and his mind wandered to a single, recurring memory…the day his life ended.
After searching for his old friend for weeks, he had finally cornered the elusive traitorous rat known as Peter Pettigrew. Sirius had trapped the wizard down a muggle alleyway, with no escape. The muggles walked on by, oblivious to the confrontation happening so close to them, yet remained unseen. Peter's beady little eyes frantically searched the alley for an escape route, as Sirius closed in.
"PETER!" Sirius yelled; his voice a mixture of anger and sadness. "How could you betray them Peter? We were your friends! We were BROTHERS!" He cried.
The rat's eyes snapped to Sirius' and he cringed.
"I had no choice Sirius! The Light side was losing! I…I didn't want to die! It was my only choice; it was the only way!" He squeaked.
"We would have died for you." Sirius whispered. "All of us, Lily included. But you betrayed all of us, because you were a COWARD!" He snarled.
Peter continued searching for an escape route.
"Sirius, please…" he began, hoping to buy some time, but he was cut off by Sirius' wand, now released from its holster, pointing at him.
"I convinced James and Lily to switch keepers…it was my fault they died. I cannot redeem myself for what I've done, but I will avenge their deaths and little Harry's loss, Peter. No one will stop me from killing you." He spat.
After one more frantic look around, his eyes flashed with an idea and he grimaced remorsefully.
"Sirius…I'm sorry." Before the wizard could reply, he felt the wards around them fall, revealing them to the muggles. "SIRIUS! How could you?! How could you betray Lily and James to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?! They trusted you!" He cried.
Sirius stared on, utterly confused by the rats words, forgetting for a moment the immense anger and hatred he felt for the rat. The conversation began to draw a crowd of muggles, who turned to see the confrontation.
While Sirius tried to understand why Peter was doing…whatever he was doing, he noticed the rat draw his wand. He reacted, a little too late, to disarm his one-time friend.
"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!" He yelled.
The spell shot out of Pettigrew's wand and impacted the ground near Sirius, debris showering a large number of people, injuring and killing some. But, by a horrible twist of fate, the badly aimed spell hit a gas main, igniting the fumes, and turning the street into an inferno.
Just before the gas main blew, Sirius was able to pull up a shield, barely protecting him from the blast. The flames ripped through the unprotected shop fronts and muggle pedestrians, leaving behind smoking husks and bloody remains.
Through the smoke and debris, Sirius saw Peter remove his finger and transform into his rat animagus form, vanishing out of sight into the drains.
It was then it dawned on him.
Everyone in the know believed him to be the secret keeper for the Potters. No one knew about the deception, bar him and the rat. Peter had just successfully faked his death. With the Potters dead and the actual secret keeper looking like he had been murdered by Sirius' hand, the culprit would be obvious.
No one would believe the truth…Peter's final betrayal.
Falling to his knees, his wand clattered to the cracked tarmac and tears poured down his face. Hearing the familiar sound of apparation, he realised that the ministry had arrived and he was doomed.
Feeling his anger for the snivelling, cowardly, deceptive, disgusting rat that was Peter Pettigrew, he turned his head skyward and screamed amidst tears. His scream was silenced by a red spell impacting his back.
With a jolt, his eyes opened, chest heaving breathlessly. Reaching up to his face, he realised he had been crying, tears staining his hand. Looking around his cell, he sighed, before huddling once more to keep warm.
The next time Sirius awoke, he saw the black granite walls of Azkaban prison staring back at him. He had been given no trial, and in his anguish he had never been able to protest his innocence.
Before he could fall back into the well of despair he had dug for himself, he shook his head of those thoughts and cleared his mind. Soon, he heard the familiar sound of the daily Auror team inspecting the prisoners. He could hear their voices long before he saw them.
"…hear about Harry Potter in the Prophet?" Sirius' ears pricked up at the familiar name of his godson.
"Yeah, it's a right shame what those damn muggles did to him. Deserved everything they got, they did." The other grunted.
A sense of worry and fear descended over his mind. What were the guards talking about? What about muggles? Had they hurt Harry?
"Damn right; 'course, it might have been better to have them stay in the fine accommodations on this godforsaken rock. I'm sure they would have enjoyed our…hospitality." The two guards laughed evilly.
Sirius's mind was working overtime trying to make sense of the guard's conversation from the fragments he had heard, and while he thought on it, the Auror's passed his cell and looked in at him.
"And lookie here; here's the bastard who basically stuck him with those muggles." The guard sneered slightly at Sirius, whose face became a stoic mask. "But then again, you probably don't care, do yah Black?" He scrunched up the paper and threw it at Sirius, who didn't even flinch as it hit his head. "Have a look at the paper and see the sort of life you gave him." He paused. "But then again, you'd probably get pleasure out of seeing the Potter's son abused, wouldn't you, you sick bastard." The guard spat through the bars on Sirius, before continuing his patrol, talking loudly to his partner.
As soon as they were out of sight, Sirius unfolded the paper and scanned the headlines frantically, hoping what he had heard wasn't true. He had barely kept himself rooted to the spot, desperately wanting to tear the paper out of the guard's hand. Tears began to pour down Sirius' face as he read the article.
"I have lived and slept in the cupboard-under-the-stairs…"
"…scratched into the woodwork on the inside of the door into the tiny and cramped space were the words: 'Harry's Room.'"
"…beat me for any signs of 'freakishness'"
With a roar, he tore the article in half, throwing the remains across his cell. Collapsing to his knees, he cried remorsefully; apologising to baby Harry profusely, cursing his own stupidity in not making sure he was safe, and damning the rat who had trapped the both of them in their hellish prisons.
He continued sobbing for a little while, before calming himself and letting his mind reengage with the situation. Sirius stared at the ruined paper, a light frown marring his face as he thought.
During his years in Azkaban, he had managed to retain his sanity by holding on to the fact that he was innocent in the death of the Potters. He had hoped that Harry would have been cared for by the Order members or put in a safe home.
His hopes had just been shattered.
Sirius realised that he needed to get out of the prison. He had long since realised the benefit of his animagus form in protecting himself against the worst effects of Azkaban's horrifying guards. While he was changed, his dog mind could not be picked up by the Dementors, who ignored the primitive mind entirely. It had kept him from the realms of insanity that his fellow inmates had succumbed to.
However, as he looked at the bars of his cell, it occurred to him that his form could help him even more. In his emaciated state, he could probably slip through the bars, with a bit of a squeeze, and escape. The problem was then making it to shore. From his time as an Auror, he knew where the island was, and how far it was from the coast.
But, after some thought, he realised that he didn't have a choice. Harry needed him, even if he didn't know it, and he would not let his godson down a second time.
Having decided on his course of action, Sirius waited until the sounds of the daily guard patrol had become silent. Picking up the ruined pieces of the article, he folded it up and slid it into his pocket. Closing his eyes and focusing on his magic, he felt his body shift into the canine form of Padfoot.
Walking to the bars, he looked both ways down the corridor before pushing himself between the iron railings. Sirius could feel the metal pushing against his thin ribs painfully, so he tried to make himself smaller and began to ease his way through the bars. After some effort, his hind legs passed through the door and he stood outside his cell.
He was free.
Resisting the urge to howl in excitement and happiness, he padded cautiously down the chilling corridors of the prison, passing the other inmates as he went. Focusing his canine mind, there was only one thought on his mind.
'He's at Hogwarts…Harry's at Hogwarts.'
So there we are, Chapter 11! I hope this will keep your appetites sated until I get some new chapters written! Thank you for reading and please feel free to review and message me!
This is the Quill, signing off!