Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and a few select characters.
1986
Harry Potter was not an ordinary boy, no, he was special. Not special in the sense that he was inordinately smart (though he was), nor in the way that he was extraordinarily talented (which he was as well). No, Harry Potter was magic. He could make things move just by wishing them to move, he could move from one place to another in the blink of an eye, and, the other day in school, he had turned a rather fussy teacher's wig blue. Oh, it was just marvelous! And Harry Potter was absolutely pleased. He was invigorated, he was astounded, he was... he was... completely amazed! And so, it was on one of London's few bright days that he exited the doors of his day school, plastered a wide, toothy grin on his round, bespectacled face, and marched towards his car. He had decided he would tell his family of his new found specialness and oh, Harry Potter knew that they would be proud.
In a simple life, perhaps Lily Potter would be surrounded by all her loved ones. In the moment, she would have her mischievous husband by her side and her parents in the background, and- if she were to dare to dream- perhaps her sister would be seen in the picture as well, smiling behind her as they shared local gossip. But, alas, Lily Potter lay in a life filled with chaos, and she found herself in a run-down flat with her six-year-old precious son, a cat, and pictures that cast bright smiles from their spot on the kitchen counter.
Of course, at the present, she stood as a rather bored woman, one without the bustles of her youth. She had a simple job as an administrative officer for the house of commons, paying a meager, yet satisfying, salary that managed to send her baby boy to school and put food on the table each and every night. She could never afford to buy a nice pair of pumps, nor a set of diamond earrings- though why any woman in her working class would need such things, she would never guess- but, nevertheless, Lily was happy. And though, unlike her colleagues, she didn't have a husband to show off when they were invited to evening parties, and though she could not buy a new dress for each of those parties she was invited to, she had her son, and with him, she was able to lead a perfectly normal life.
Hidden, on the rocky shores of a depressed island in the middle of the ocean, stood a towering, dark fortress, surrounded by the cruelest, foulest, most horrible creatures to ever exist. And, deep inside the dispiriting structure, stood a man, shuddering as he walked slowly to a small, pathetic figure that was curled into itself. Wheezing and coughing on the floor as it lay behind bars, the small space it was in containing only a flimsy, grimy mattress, and a filthy rag. Sirius Black shuddered as he looked around him, and tensed his figure even more as he made his way forward.
"You look horrible." He spoke as soon as he reached the bars, and jarring coughing sounds came from the figure practically at his feet, it slowly raised one hand to a metal bar, and painfully pulled itself up as horrific popping sounds pierced the cold, dead air. A face hit the little light that filled the hall, with grey, wrinkled, grimy skin, and rotting, yellow teeth. The man that stood in front of the once-prankster was nearly unrecognizable.
"And you look the same." The figure cocked his head to the side, "well... I see you've grown a beard. It suits you." Hoarse gags sounded, though the body they came from had a smile- or perhaps a grimace- on his face. He finally righted himself to a slightly hunched, standing position, the clothes on his body nothing but greying rags, showing his sharp spine and ribs. His once slightly sculpted face thin and sallow, with yellowing eyes and thinning, grey hair. The gags ended. "Have you come to finally break me out?" Sirius Black grimaced looking down at the man. Taking out a handkerchief from his sleeve and passing it through the bars.
"I apologize for not visiting you," he avoided the question. Instead choosing to rake one of his hands in his hair as he shuffled from one foot to the other awkwardly. He let out a huff of air as the man remained silent. "You haven't been treated terribly, I hope." He looked to the side, down the hall, and then peered through the bars, "you seem to have been nicely accommodated." The gags sounded again.
"Ah, you're the same as ever." He righted his hunch as he stood up completely with a final, horrible pop, standing eye to eye with his visitor. "It is true, that I have been treated better than others." The black-haired man nodded slightly, and clasped his hands together with a clap.
"Thats good to hear."
"Hmm." There was silence for a few seconds, until more sliding was heard, and the prisoner now stood, leaning. "Have you heard from her?" His voice remained hoarse, but he spoke loudly instead of his quiet murmur.
"Pardon? Heard from whom?" Sirius Black adopted an air of curiosity, though he knew all too well who the figure spoke of.
"Lily. Lily Potter. How is she? Her an-" he winced, "and Harry. Are they doing well?" Sirius grimaced and stared out into the distance for a second. Slowly, he shook his head, and the man behind the bars slumped back to his hunched position.
"We've been trying to find her, but it's almost as if she's disappeared off the face of the world." He sighed, "we can't get the Prime Minister's office to search for her as she, in their eyes, isn't important to or disrupting their affairs, and the Ministry of Magic can only do so much without their help-" With a short suck in for breath, Sirius paused, and chose to discontinue his sentence. There was silence for a few more seconds.
"You never answered the question." The voice had gone from loud back to a small murmur.
"What question?"
"Have you come to get me out of here? Or are you merely here to tell me things you don't know?" The cleaner man chuckled dryly, and shook his head.
"A horrid place like this, and you still can't get rid of your dry wit and sarcasm, can you?" He ran a hand through his hair once more.
"Don't say horrid, it's juvenile," the man whispered, and Sirius let out a bark of laughter before containing himself.
"Yes well, that is me: Sirius Black, The Juvenile Disappointment." He sighed, "to answer your question, yes; of a sort." The figure shifted once, but made no sound, so he continued. "They have finally agreed to give you a trial. I have gotten the correct people to testify, veritaserum has been administered, and the wizengamot will convene at noon tomorrow. I just thought I'd come and let you know." They stood in silence once more, the only a sound a distant scream, a near groan, and the labored breathing of the man leaning against the soiled bars.
"Well thank you, for this kindness. Is there anything else?" He muttered humorlessly, and moved himself back to a sitting position.
"Not that I can think of at the present. But if there is, I'll make sure to-"
"Visit?" The man drawled, and lifted his arm up, "be sure to, I'll look forward to it." He passed a now grey piece of cloth through the bars once more, and Sirius took it, pinched between his thumb and forefinger, carefully placing it into a pocket instead of his sleeve. He stared down at the man on the floor, shook his head and nodded once before turning on his heel, more than ready to escape the cold place. As he neared the middle of the hall, he turned and walked back.
"Remus?" The man on the ground coughed and looked up.
"Is there anything you forgot?" Sirius Black paused as he stared at his friend, broken and pitiful, he paused, his mouth slightly agape and his body turned slightly.
"Just... I wish to give you luck on your trial tomorrow." He spoke quickly, and he turned to head back down the hall, "after everything, you deserve being free."
"Everything?" Remus Lupin said, though his voice still echoed, he chuckled once, "perhaps." There was a pause, "perhaps," he added quieter. "Do take care of yourself, Sirius." He crawled over to the flimsy mattress and laid down. "Oh, and please do tell dear Lily I say hello when you see her next."
Sirius Black stood in the middle of the hall for a few more seconds, before he ran to the stairs that would enable his freedom from this small piece of hell. He shivered long after he had left.
"Mum! Mum!" Harry Potter shouted as he made his way through the door. Lily smiled down at the grinning little boy and kissed the top of his forehead as he bounded on his small feet. "Oh Mum! You'll never guess! But something... amazing has happened to me." He clasped his small hands together, and rocked back in forth, his green eyes sparkling, and his messy hair practically crackling with restive energy.
"Hmm," Lily placed a finger on her chin, pretending to go into deep contemplation. "Did you make a new friend?" Harry beam grew, and Lily Potter became slightly hopeful. Though her son was the most stupefying boy she knew, he often had trouble making friends at school, and the one's he did make often moved, or made friends with people better and older than him.
"Nope!" Her hopes dashed, and her smile fell slightly but she simply removed her finger from her chin and furrowed her brow, sighing dramatically.
"I simply can't guess then, Harry! Why don't you just tell me?" Harry shook his head quickly, bouncing up and down, his eyes crinkling up and his smile growing more and more mischievous than ever.
"No, Mum," he waggled a finger at her, "you have to guess." She quirked an amused smile and nodded exasperatedly.
"Fine, fine. Hmm, you learned a new word? You... did well on a project. You... You... You have a crush?" Her son blushed bright red, and it was almost as if his energy had come to a complete halt. His face was now so puffed, and his cheeks and forehead such a bright red, that he reminded Lily of a tomato.
"Ew! No, Mum! You know that Jamie Crockford said that girls were gross after I was paired with Evelyn Hill for a maths project, and she held my hand during recess. He said that girls have the dreaded lurgy and that they'll give it to me too! Oh, Mum, could you believe the horror if that happened? I was absolutely gutted the entire rest of the day, I had to go to Madame Crawley's office, because I don't want to catch the dreaded lurgy, and I had to make sure that Evelyn Hill wouldn't infect me with her stupid... stupid..."
"Disease?" Lily's face was slowly turning red as well, as she was trying to hold in her laughter at her son's furrowed brow and furious expression.
"Yeah!" She ruffled his hair and laughed slightly. "Stop it!" He brushed her hand away, "and it's not funny, you know. I could have become ill," he waggled his small finger again, and stood straighter, staring down at her from the tops of his specs. "If Evelyn Hill had given me the dreaded lurgy, then I would've had to stay home, because all the other students would have ignored me, and then... and then I might have died, because I would have had the dreaded lurgy!" He nodded quickly and spread his arms out, puffing and huffing and shouting, his face bright and sweaty. And Lily laughed and laughed and laughed. "Stop it!" He stomped his foot, and she controlled her amusement to comfort her son.
"Oh, I'm sorry darling. But I was a girl, and I had friends that were girls, and I know that I didn't have 'the dreaded lurgy'." Harry's blush slowly died down.
"I guess so. But then, Jamie Crockford is a prat."
"Harry! You're not allowed to say that word." Lily put on her cross face, and though Harry looked abashed, he looked outraged.
"But, Mum! Everyone at school says that word! It's not even a bad word. It's just a... a," he screwed his face up, "a diskreptar." Lily crosse her arms over her chest and adopted a disappointed look.
"Well, Harry James, I'm not everyone at school's Mum, I'm yours, and I say that the word prat is no word that a six-year-old boy, like yourself, should be using." Harry huffed, "and it's pronounced descriptor. duh-skrip-tor. Descriptor."
"Deh-scrih-ptur." She shrugged, it was close.
"That was good! I'm so proud of you." She gave him a hug, and just like that, he was back to his previous mood.
"Oh, yeah. Mum! Since you can't guess, I'm just going to tell you. I'm special." He grinned widely, and Lily ran her hand lovingly through his hair.
"Of course you are, Harry. You're my special, special boy."
"No, Mum. I'm the specialist of special!" Lily frowned.
"What do you mean, Harry?" Harry leaned forward, and stood straighter, adopting an adorable air of professionalism.
"I mean, I have powers! I'm magic special, Mum." He grinned and started prattling on about all his escapades in his new found magic, not noticing that the smile on his mother's face had frozen there. Lily Potter paled.