Welcome back everyone! This is the eighth chapter of the story, and the plan is for there to be ten in all. In fact, I will be trying to get chapters 9 and 10 out in the same week this one arrives, to have the story finish all together. Please don't hold me too close to the same week thing. That is a best case scenario, and odds are I wont have the other two done by then. But dammit, im gonna try. I wanna finish this story in style! Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 8
There was the familiar rustle of metal as the door opened and the Dementor entered Sirius's cell. It gazed at him for a moment, seeping away what little energy he had. Then it set down his food and water. As hungry and thirsty as he was, Sirius couldn't find much motivation to go get his fill. Was there even any point to it anymore? Was there anything to his life left?
All he had was the knowledge that he was innocent.
It wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't take it away. Yet it was still something that motivated him to push on. Without the knowledge of his innocence and his desire to prove it he might have given up and faded away long ago. He had seen many of his prison mates do just that. They would lose the will to live and just die. The guards always knew when death was coming for a prisoner. They would become restless and crowd the cell, trying to get the last bits of energy from the dying prisoner before they could no longer be used for sustenance. It was sad to see, but that was normal in Azkaban.
Sirius glanced up again when his door opened again. There was a Dementor with food and water for him. Hadn't he just got some? Oh well. The guard replaced the older lunch with the new one, then left once more. Sirius forced himself to crawl over and get some food and water in him. After he had finished he forced himself back over to the corner he had been sitting in before. That was a very familiar routine and by far the most interesting part of his day. The strange part about it however, was just how many times it occurred. Every day, just an endless stream of meals. Sirius couldn't stand it at times.
The cell that Sirius was in was very empty, with gray bricks that seemed black because of the dark, overcasting sky. There were a few bricks missing on the outside wall, allowing him to see outside of the prison. But all that was visible was just a dark, raging sea. Sirius didn't know where Azkaban was located, as he had never held a position in the Ministry. He could be anywhere in the world, and he could be so far away from the mainland that escape would be laughable even if it were possible. Any hope of escaping was just a faint delusion, there was no point in even trying.
Again the door opened, and the guard again placed down food and water. Now this was just annoying. The Dementor had just been here. Sirius forced it from his mind. He could eat later.
How long had he been here, he wondered? Sometimes it felt like week. Other times it felt like he had been here for several years. And even sometimes he felt like he had been here his entire life, and his life outside of Azkaban was just a dream he had come up with. The last possibility felt more likely with each passing day.
The door opened again, with the same results as before. Sirius was surprised that the guards here would feed the prisoners this much. It was very unlike them. And even though it meant more food for him, Sirius found it very annoying. How could he think of a way to prove his innocence or, even better, escape if he couldn't get a few moments to think? This truly was hell. Why did they keep doing this? Day after day, just an endless stream of meals. They must have fed him a million times by now.
He looked at the bars of his door. There were openings in between the bars, but there was no way he was fitting through there. What about the hole? No, also far too small. There was no way for a human to get out of here.
Wait…
Sirius had an idea, which the guards took notice of instantly. As they approached and the hope was drained away from him, Sirius realized that he didn't have to be human. If he could only gain the strength to use magic.
He crawled across his cell and picked up the water and brought it to his lips. It was only then that he noticed how thirsty he had been. Strange how easily this place could dilute his senses. Then he ate some of the moldy bread they had put out for him, feeling somewhat stronger. He took a deep breath, then transformed. It was agonizing, because of the condition he was in and how long it had been since he had transformed last. In mere moments he had gone from man to dog, a trick he had picked up back in school along with his friends. He was what was known as an Animagus to the rest of the wizarding world. This was someone who had a degree in expertise in Transfiguration that they were able to transform themselves into an animal. Sirius could turn into a dog, which to his own humor of being a pureblood Black, was a mutt. James could turn into a stag, and Peter could turn into a rat. Remus of course did not need to change, already able to turn into werewolf.
Sirius didn't know how to explain it, but somehow he felt stronger. He realized that he wasn't actually strengthened by becoming a dog, but somehow desensitized to the effect the Dementors had on him. He could think clearer than he had in a long, long time.
One of the Dementors approached the door to his cell, looking in. it must have realized something had changed. Sirius tensed up. Even though he was affected differently now, he was still affected. He couldn't help but shudder as the Dementor (presumably) stared at him. Finally, it turned around and left, taking its dreary presence with it. Sirius let out a deep breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding, or even realized he could hold, being a dog.
He could actually think now, and ask questions. Why did he seem to be less affected? Was it to do with being a dog? Why would dogs be more able to stand against a Dementor? Sirius suddenly remembered something Dumbledore had said a long time ago, back at Hogwarts. Dementors are truly devious creatures, predators solely of man himself. It is almost as if they were created to keep us in check from overstepping our bounds as a species. As a dog he couldn't be affected, at least not to the same extent. He could think again, perhaps even change back briefly at times and perform magic if he built up his strength again. But how could he use this to his advantage?
He realized that it had been far too long since he had been brought any food or water. They had been in the annoying habit of bringing him food and drink at an annoying rate, something that he really didn't expect of a place like Azkaban. But why had they stopped? Was it because he was a dog? Surely they would have noticed a change in him, but why would they change the rate they were feeding him at? Something was off here…
Wait.
That was it.
Something was off. But it wasn't the Dementors that had changed. It was him. He could think again. He was somewhat back to his old self. But before now, he had been lost in the pain and misery that was Azkaban. What if… what if each time they had brought him a meal, a day had passed?
He shuddered. Those moments had just passed by, the only thing breaking the monotone of this prison. He hadn't realized just how much time had passed, just how many meals had come his way. How many he had left uneaten, thinking he had just had food. Not realizing that it was a new day each time they came by. How long had it gone on?
How long had he been here?
Sirius continued asking himself that question over the next few weeks, until finally a Ministry wizard came by the dark halls one day, escorting some new prisoner. Sirius, in human form, sprang up to the cell door.
"Excuse me, sir. Could you tell me the date?"
The wizard gave him annoyed look over, as if surprised a prisoner would even speak. He answered gruffly, "May 11."
"And what year is it, please?"
"Don't think I don't know who you are. Sirius Black. The murderer. You aren't getting out of here in this lifetime, so there ain't no reason for you to be keeping dates."
"Please…"
The man sighed. "Fine. If you must know, it is 1992." Then he walked off before Sirius could ask anything else.
Sirius couldn't believe what he had just heard. It couldn't be true. 1992? No. No. Nononnonono. He knew it had been a while, but ten and a half years? How could time have slipped away so much while he was here? He shuddered. It was a good thing he had tried his dog form when he did. He might have died here without even realizing what was happening otherwise.
It just seemed like so much had been wasted. Over ten years since he had been betrayed by Peter. Over ten years since he had been framed for a murder he never committed. Ten years that he had spent rotting away in a jail cell. His life was wasted. Peter ruined it. His teeth grinded against each other. Why did things like this have to happen to him? He was a good person; loyal to his friends, kind to those who weren't, and genuinely tried to help the world the only way he knew how. So why would the universe repay him by taking away everything he cared about? This wasn't fair. This wasn't how karma was supposed to work.
"Guess nice guys do finish last." He muttered to himself.
He knew one thing for sure. He didn't want to die here. If he could, he would find a way to escape and clear his name. And he would find Peter if he could, and make him pay. Pay for James and Lily, pay for himself, and most of all, pay for Harry. Sirius still couldn't fathom what would make turning a young boy into an orphan a good idea in Wormtail's head. How could he even do that? Sirius was disgusted.
That was what made up the next year of Sirius's life. Just sitting in his cell in Azkaban, thinking. Trying to go stronger. To make something of the broken shambles that his life had become. But most of all, just trying to survive his own guilt, his own regrets. Hope would burn away like a candle in the rain. Happiness would disappear. But guilt, hate, regret, fear… those never left him. If anything, this place made them stronger. He would spend countless hours just being angry at no particular thing, just wanting things to be different. He hated life.
Then everything changed the next summer. One morning none other than Cornelius Fudge himself, Minister of Magic, came walking down the halls of Azkaban, with a small army of Aurors as protection. Sirius saw a newspaper in the Minister's hand and couldn't help but ask for it. Maybe doing some crosswords or something could alleviate his torture here, just a little bit. Also, it gave him a chance to see what was happening in the world.
Surprised, Fudge gave it away to Sirius. Sirius hummed as he perused the Daily Prophet, scanning for anything interesting. But then again, anything was interesting compared to what he had to deal with here. Compared to his daily life, every single article in here was an absolute delight.
He froze when he noticed something. On a picture was a large family of redheads, the Weasleys, who had won a vacation to Egypt. Sirius thought that many of the Weasleys he had met were kind, if rather strange, people. But it wasn't them that he noticed. In one boys hand was a small rat, apparently a pet. But Sirius would recognize that rat anywhere. And just to prove that he wasn't crazy, he looked closely and sure enough, it was missing a front toe.
"He's alive." Sirius breathed heavily. "After all these years I've found you, Peter. I've found you." his expression darkened. "Now it's time to commit the murder that I was sentenced for."
Let me know what you thought with a review! Seriously, I need you guys to give me some reviews here. This story somehow has still gone without even a single review. Is my story not deserving of even the slightest of reactions? C'mon guys, please give me something. Even if its just something random, like "dinosaur purple thunder" or something like that, it would be hugely appreciated. Seriously, it would mean a lot to me to hear from you guys. Well, that's enough talking. See you in the next chapter!
