AN: Thank you guys, you really are the best. I especially want to thank anonymous comments, since I cannot send you individual messages. The encouragement and support I have received from people is really the best part of writing on this site. I guess it's Troll season, I've picked up a few on some of my older, finished stories as well. Taking troll immunity potion now.

"I should have seen it right away," Sirius said quietly. "You look just like him."

"I've been told that," Harry answered, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah," Harry answered, though he tried to look a bit worried still. "It's okay for now. It's my own fault I'm here really; I broke quarantine. And rotten luck too – when I came back I ran right into Snape. So we're quarantined together."

"I take it you don't get along so well?"

"Nope," Harry answered truthfully. "He's had it out for me since day one. I'm not sure why really, except maybe I think he didn't like my father?"

"That would be an understatement," Sirius snorted, and then tried to move his body. "How long am I going to be petrified?"

"We have some time before your body's going to be able to move," Harry explained to him. "That's part of the consequence of hitting the barrier."

"Then that was an idiotic thing to do," he sighed.

"Well, it saved my arse," Harry grinned. "You hitting the barrier ended up with me not getting whacked. So, I know it's kind of a pain to be frozen, I'm grateful for it."

"Glad I could be of service," Sirius grinned rakishly.

"But would you mind if I ask a few questions?" Harry asked. "I mean, I want to believe you and I want to think of you as my father's friend, but I have so many questions."

"We have some time," Sirius nodded. "Go ahead."

"Okay," Harry nodded. "Can you tell me more about the night my parents were killed?"

"I was there not long after it happened," Sirius told him. "I was an Auror at the time, and I found out quickly. As soon as I heard that they had been attacked and who had done it – well, I knew who was responsible. It hadn't even been a week since Peter had been made secret keeper, it was obvious. But still I couldn't believe it; I went there to see it for myself."

"What did you find?"

"Hagrid had just fished you out of the rubble," Sirius told him. "Do you know Hagrid is?"

"Yes," Harry told him. "He teaches at Hogwarts."

"Hagrid teaches?" Sirius asked incredulously. "What does he teach?"

"Care of magical creatures," Harry answered, feeling a little defensive.

"I guess that makes sense," Sirius nodded. "If any of this does. I mean Snape is a teacher? I always thought he was as dark as they came. How could Dumbledore trust him?"

"I've often wondered that myself," Harry agreed. "But what was that about Hagrid?"

"Oh yeah, Hagrid," Sirius remembered. "That horrible night, when I got to the house Hagrid was there. Anyway, he said that Dumbledore wanted you to be taken to your relative's house. I offered to take you, but he insisted it had to be him, Dumbledore's orders. So I loaned the bloke my motorbike, and he took you in that."

"Why did you have a motorbike when you could just apparate?" Harry asked incredulously.

Sirius shrugged with a smile. "It was more fun. Plus, there are a lot of times apparition isn't the best idea, like if you don't have a clear idea of where you're going. And Hagrid can't do it; he doesn't have wand."

"So then what did you do?"

"Well, I figured it must be Peter. So you were safely away, so I focused on Peter then. I used a tracking spell to follow him, and I was going to arrest him for betraying James and Lily. Or kill him, to be honest. I was in such a rage – how dare he betray our friends! It took a bit to find him, he went several different places, including back to the Potter house at one point. But I finally cornered him on a muggle street. And, well . . ."

"What happened then?" Harry pressed as Sirius' voice fell away.

"I should have known better," Sirius sighed. "I think, looking back, my rage blinded me really. I was just so happy to finally have the rat in my sights, well, I wasn't thinking as logically. And Peter wasn't exactly known for his brains, you know? Well, I guess a trapped rat can be wily after all. He, well, he framed me. I don't remember much, just him yelling at me that I had betrayed the Potters, and then an explosion that knocked me out and, I learned later, killed twelve muggles. All they found of Pettigrew was a finger. For years I believed he had killed himself trying to kill me, and that seemed like the Peter I knew."

"So what changed?" Harry asked.

"I found proof that Peter was alive," Sirius told him. "When I had that, I decided I had to break out of Azkaban and put an end to him. I didn't know what he was up to, but I knew it had to be no good. And nobody knew it but me."

"But how could he be hiding for so long?" Harry asked innocently.

"He has his ways," Sirius answered mysteriously. "They aren't something I should talk about."

"Then can you tell me what Azkaban was like?" Harry asked him.

"Pretty much the worse place you can imagine," Sirius answered, his face darkening. "The dementors drive most people mad, but I had my ways of trying to stay sane."

"What kind of other prisoners are there?"

"Mostly deatheaters from the war," Sirius explained. "And they don't like me much at all. You see, most of my family is dark, and I was expected to be dark. But I broke away – it started when I was sorted into Gryffindor when I first came to Hogwarts, and it finished when I was kicked out of my house and burned from the family tapestry at sixteen."

"You were disowned?"

"Yes," Sirius agreed, but rather than looking sad he looked rebellious. "I was disowned for not becoming a deatheater. My mother – oh I hated her! She thought it would be such a punishment. But James – your father – well, his family took me in. And they were more of a family than my family had ever been to me. And then my Uncle Alphard died and left me a large inheritance and, well, I was sort of taken care of in a way. I haven't seen the family tapestry, but rumor is Uncle Alphard got burned out for that one too."

"So were some of the people in Azkaban your relatives?"

"Yes," Sirius nodded. "Crazy cousin Bellatrix being the worst."

"Is prison like in the movies?" Harry asked. "Are there gangs? Do they beat you up?"

"Well, I have to admit I haven't watched a lot of movies," Sirius laughed. "But yeah, prison is rough. And because they didn't like me, well, I got beaten up a lot. It was mostly by pansy pure-bloods who hardly know what to do without their wands, though, so it wasn't too bad. Rodolphus Lestrange, though, that man knew how to dole out a beating. When he decided to pound someone, they knew it. And that someone was usually me."

"That sounds terrible."

"Don't worry, it couldn't get too bad without magic," Sirius assured him. "And the dementors didn't let it get too bad, they didn't want anybody to die. I mean, Rodolphus is built like a stack of bricks, and Rabastan was pretty much the same, but their intent was to torture me, not kill me. If they killed me their fun would be over too soon. And they couldn't get their hands on me a lot, so mostly I was okay."

"Why didn't you break out sooner?"

Sirius looked down at his hands, his eyebrows knit together. "That's a hard question to answer, Harry," he said softly. "I was so distraught over their deaths, but that's not what kept me there. I think what it came down to was that I felt guilt over their deaths. Maybe I felt like I deserved to be there."

Harry let that sit in the room between them for a moment, realizing the seriousness of what the man had just confessed. He couldn't help but feel sorry for the man.

"What if I told you that I know more than you think I know?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, looking bewildered.

"I mean I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

"Harry?" Sirius asked, shocked. "But how could you possibly . . ."

"I came to be in possession of the Marauder's map," Harry explained in a lowered voice and a careful glance at Snape. "The Weasley twins nicked it off Filch while they were serving detention, and they gave it to me when they felt sorry for me about not being able to go into Hogsmeade because my guardians wouldn't sign my permission slip. Let's just say I know a lot more than I probably should know about the Marauders. Should I call you Padfoot?"

"How did you figure this out?" Sirius asked, clearly astounded.

"I had some help," Harry confessed. "Sirius, Moony is a teacher here too. And I know about Wormtail; I know he's an actual rat."

"I saw him, you know," Sirius whispered. "I saw him in a picture on the shoulder of one of the bloody Weasleys."

"How?" Harry asked.

"Are you familiar with the Weasley family?" Sirius asked.

"You could say a bit," Harry answered with a grin.

"Well, they won a trip to Egypt this summer," Sirius told him. "They got their picture in the paper. And on one of the children's shoulders was the unmistakable proof that Peter was still alive. Sitting right there as if he were just a normal pet. But I knew, I knew! And once I knew for certain, I knew I had to get out. Those children went to Hogwarts, I knew he was close to you. Why he hadn't acted for so many years I didn't know, but I did know that you weren't safe with the traitor so close to you."

"Ron Weasley is my best friend," Harry told him carefully. "I've been sleeping in the same room as Scabbers the rat, also known as Wormtail, for the past three years. I've held him countless times."

Sirius closed his eyes, trying to slow his breathing. "Do you know where he is now?"

"That's why I broke quarantine," Harry explained. "I saw Peter Pettigrew on the map."

"What?"

"Scabbers has been missing for a while now," Harry explained. "I think since I got the map come to think of it. But the other day when I was looking at the map, I saw him. So I followed him. I thought at the time that maybe he had been injured or something in the fight with you, and that he was my parents' friend. I followed him to the tunnel in the Whomping Willow, and couldn't figure out why I couldn't see him. I followed him to the Shrieking Shack, and had a quick glance around Hogsmeade, and when I didn't see him I came back before I got into too much trouble. Too late, apparently."

"Snape caught you."

Harry nodded. "Anybody but him! I tell you how much I wished it had been Flitwick or Madame Pomfrey or anybody else! But anyway, we got quarantined."

"What did Snape do to you?" he asked, worried.

"What you almost witnessed earlier," Harry replied, looking away. "It wasn't that bad, and I probably deserved it that time at least. I think I'm lucky I didn't get the cane."

"Have you ever had the cane?" Sirius asked, shocked.

"No," Harry admitted. "But it sounds pretty terrible."

"It is," Sirius replied. "I actually know that one from experience. But still, Snape's a right bastard."

"I'm not arguing with you there."

"Wait, you shouldn't have been able to see Peter," Sirius looked at him suspiciously.

"I know, Lupin told me," Harry nodded. "Apparently the map recognized me as my father's heir or something."

Suddenly, Sirius withdrew a bit, seemingly suspicious. "It's all very convenient that you are exactly who I would want to talk to," he said.

"I would say inconvenient because I would rather not be stuck in quarantine," Harry scoffed, purposely misunderstanding what he said. "Hey, you seem like you're moving, is the spell worn off?"

Sirius was surprised to find that his body indeed could move, and he experimentally stretched out his arms and legs. "It appears to have worn off."

"I'll go get Snape then," Harry told him. "I wouldn't want to make him mad by delaying your soup."

Harry walked over to Snape, acting deferential, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Sir, Mr. Black has gotten the movement back in his limbs."

"It is about time," Snape grumbled, pushing his chair back and standing up. Harry almost missed the barely audible "well done," as Snape swept past him. Snape pulled the rope that hung, and soon had summoned another bowl of broth for the undernourished marauder.

"You eat the soup, and I will summon Dumbledore," Snape told him firmly. "I believe he has some questions for you."

Sirius quickly drank the soup, though perhaps a bit less desperately this time but still with enthusiasm, wondering what the old man would have to say to him. Dumbledore had been one of the few checks on his behavior during his time at Hogwarts, and even that had been a fairly minor check. But still, he did remember at least respecting the man, and he wondered if he had changed in the intervening years. Was he still the same man that ran the Order of the Phoenix that he had fought for all those years ago? He could remember swearing his oath of loyalty to the Order, would Dumbledore remember that as well?

From where he sat he couldn't see Dumbledore as he approached, but he suspected that he talked to Harry and Snape at the other side of the room where he could see nothing, and a simple muffling spell seemed to take away his ability to hear as well. What was being said? Were his suspicions about being set up correct?

"Good morning, Mr. Black," Dumbledore greeted him with a bland smile, coming into his view. "I trust your accommodation has been adequate."

"Yes, I've been quite comfortable," Sirius answered.

"Good," Dumbledore answered. "I have a few questions for you, if you don't mind?"

"I expected you would," Sirius replied uneasily.

"I would first like to ask that you do me the honor of not lying to me," Dumbledore told him. "You were once a member of the order of the Phoenix, and are still subject to that oath. Do you remember it?"

"I do," Sirius nodded.

"Do you still abide by that oath?" Dumbledore pressed. "Even though the Order has disbanded for now?"

"I do," Sirius affirmed.

"I attached no penalty to that oath," Dumbledore explained. "It was always an oath of honor only."

"I know," Sirius nodded. "I took it seriously, all the same."

"I see," Albus answered seriously. "And I, as the head of the Order, am the one you pledged your loyalty and honesty to as well, correct?"

"Yes, I did," Sirius answered.

"Well, now that that is clear," Dumbledore nodded. "I have my questions for you. Are you ready?"

Sirius nodded, licking his lips. Was this going to be where he was questioned about his activities? Questioned about his loyalties? Asked about why he betrayed the Potters? Would he be tortured? Sirius had no way to defend himself, and no way to convince anybody of the truth. He had realized that in prison in a rare moment of clarity that he toyed with the idea of trying to fight his imprisonment – he had no proof. He was the son of a dark family that appeared to all the world to have done something incredibly dark – he was sure people were shrugging their shoulders and figuring that he was just showing his true colors. And now Dumbledore was going to ask the questions he dreaded – the questions he knew he couldn't defend. Although Dumbledore seemed like a benevolent grandfather, Sirius had worked with him enough to know him to be shrewd and ruthless as well. He had no doubt that he if thought Sirius a threat to Harry that he would be dealt with six ways to Sunday. And part of him recognized that he was just so tired – so tired of running so tired of fighting, so tired of being hated. There was a moment when the cat transformed and he saw McGonagall and then Remus and realized it was a trap that he felt – relieved. At least a part of him knew he wouldn't be running any longer. And now, sitting on the clean, soft bed with a full belly and his wounds tended to, it was hard not to feel a bit of reluctance to be thrown back in Azkaban after being interrogated for any useful information he might have. He braced himself for the onslaught.

"Go ahead," he croaked, with a willingness that he didn't feel. "I will answer your questions as best I can."

"Then I would like an honest answer to why for Merlin's sake you would stay locked up in Azkaban for twelve long years as an innocent man?" Dumbledore asked incredulously. "Surely you would have known I would help if you had reached out to me?"

Sirius looked up in shock, meeting Albus' normally soft blue eyes that were now raging in righteous indignation. "You have shirked your responsibilities right and left because you let yourself wallow in your own guilt and self-recrimination when you know perfectly well that every choice you made you did it with the intentions of actually helping your friends? How dare you sit back and shirk the work that needed to be done, including caring for their child, just so you could sit and rot and feel guilty in Azkaban? Are those the actions of a Gryffindor?"

"No, sir," Sirius answered with chagrin, just like a chastened student.

"And furthermore," Dumbledore continued to scold. "Why in the world did you never tell me about being an animagus? Surely you had to realize how much this would change? Sirius, I swear I wish you were of an age I could still give you a detention."

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered, tears coming to his eyes. He felt a rush of relief and Dumbledore's scolding, but also a rush of being understood. He didn't have to explain or defend himself – somehow Dumbledore already know. "I should have, I'm sorry."

"And now you sought to stalk a dangerous deatheater in my own school, whom I have come to learn has been sleeping in the bed next to Harry for the past three years, and you don't even find a way to tell me about it then?" Dumbledore pressed, his voice stern. Harry realized he had never heard Dumbledore so stern, but that his voice was similar to that of scolding a child, it did not sound like he was addressing another man at all. "Not just any deatheater either, but the very deatheater that is likely responsible for James and Lily's deaths?"

"I'm so sorry," Sirius said, brokenly, the tears now falling. "I didn't think you would believe me."

"And that was always your biggest problem, wasn't it?" Dumbledore said, his voice softening. "Not believing in your own goodness, nor that others would see it too."

"I can't believe that you believe me," Sirius blinked, wiping away the tears. "I didn't think that anybody would."

"Severus Snape believes you innocent," Dumbledore announced. "He investigated you thoroughly and drew that conclusion; that really is enough for me."

"Snape?" Sirius echoed blankly. "He investigated me?"

"With some help from my assistant," Snape informed him. "Mr. Potter was quite helpful."

"I knew he was asking too many questions!" Sirius accused. "Is he really Harry Potter?"

"I'm really Harry Potter!" he replied indignantly. "And those are things I really did want to know. But the fact they were important to see if you were really a deatheater, well, that was just helpful."

"Snape hates me," Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Why would he prove me innocent?"

"Please allow that some people mature past their childhoods," Snape sighed. "The truth is more important than childhood vendettas."

"If that's true," Sirius glared. "Then why were you mistreating Harry?"

Harry tried to suppress a smile, and ended up giggling a bit and Snape rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Are you really this slow, Black?" he drawled. "I know with your limited education in popular culture due to being a pureblood, but surely you have heard of the idea of good cop/bad cop?"

"Snape means that you were more apt to open up to me if I built up some sympathy with you," Harry smiled. "Plus we needed you to knock yourself out on the barrier so we could get a look at your body."

"Harry," Sirius looked at him with betrayal. "You lied to me."

"I didn't!" Harry insisted. "I was very careful never to lie to you. I just wanted you to talk to me so I could find out the truth. I didn't lie. Snape whacking me was kind of a set-up and wasn't really for real this time, but I promise everything I said was true."

"This time?" Sirius asked, his grey eyes fixing on the Potions master.

"He did whack me when I broke quarantine," Harry admitted. "But it was with a ruler, and though it hurt it really wasn't that bad. I mean, it's not like I want it to happen again or anything, but it's not like he abused me."

"I seem to remember applying a bit of corporal punishment in my day as well," Dumbledore interfered with a knowing look. "There can be a time and place for it, especially with behavior that would result in a student's expulsion otherwise. Don't you remember, Sirius?"

Sirius, looking down in shame, nodded. "I remember, Headmaster."

"Then we are going to consider this matter closed," Dumbledore told them. "Those that have sworn oaths will honor them, and we will press forward and tend to the more pressing matter of the day."

"Which is what?" Harry asked.

"Peter Pettigrew."