A/N: Here is the third installment of my story. Please review! None of these characters are mine. I've just borrowed them for a time. They really belong to J.K. Rowling. Enjoy!
Fidelius Betrayed
Part Three: A Cell in Azkaban
By: WeasleyTwin2
Will the birds they put in cages
Ever ride upon the wind?
The Birds They Put in Cages
From the Musical: Notre-Dame de Paris
My life was a war that could never be won.
They gave me a number then murdered Valjean
When they chained me and left me for dead…
Jean Valjean
Les Miserables
The wizard prison of Azkaban was worse then the worst nightmare I had ever had. My spirit became a shadowed, haunted thing full of half remembered images and regrets. What ifs scattered across my mind, a thousand scenarios in which I was able to save James and Lily's lives, to protect them, to ward off Voldemort's attack. I, who had once been the happiest of the four of us, had now sunk into a deep depression from which I was never likely to arise again. All happiness was leached out of me within my first week there and in the months that followed fear, grief and hunger became my constant companions. I now knew with certainty that no one was going to free me. They truly believed that I had committed the crimes I'd been charged with. I wallowed in a black pit of despair when this became clear. This black mark on my name was Peter's final act of betrayal. Even if I could prove my innocence there would always be some people who would believe I had done these things no matter what was said officially. With one flick of his wand he had turned everyone against me and it was this thought that haunted me through the first months of my stay and which continues to haunt me even now. My mother had threatened me with a stay in Azkaban if I didn't tow the line as a child. I had laughed at her, knowing she didn't truly mean it. I wasn't laughing now and I would probably never laugh again.
My thoughts, my memories began to slowly slip away. I fought with grim determination, clinging desperately to the faint wisps that my thoughts had become. Over and over my soul cried out "I am innocent!" like some strange litany. I held to this thought stubbornly, knowing it to be true. It was not a happy thought because it was connected with the night Peter betrayed us all. He had made me into the criminal and yet a part of my mind thought 'you are as much to blame as he. It was you who told the Potters to use Peter as Secret Keeper. Voldemort got what he wanted anyway… through you as surely as if you had been the one casting the curse.' I wanted to deny this but I couldn't because I knew my mind spoke the truth. I couldn't help thinking that things would have turned out differently if I had been the Secret Keeper instead of Peter. Maybe the Potters would still be alive. As time passed I became more and more certain that if I had remained the Potters Secret Keeper then James and Lily would still be alive and I would still be free. Hurt, rage, despair and grief swirled around me and drew me downward into never ending darkness and madness.
Time in the outside world passed but I was unaware of its passage. Time meant nothing to one trapped for most of the time within a mind slowly going insane. It seemed like an eternity had passed since I had been brought here and yet one thought stayed with me. I knew I was innocent of all the crimes I had been charged with. Even when all my other thoughts scattered I still knew this. Sometimes in my rantings I even dared to shout this to the shadowy figures that passed by my cell. They never listened of course but shouting it out loud helped me to remember the truth. I knew I had to remember this at all costs, even if I could never remember my own name. Over the years the presence of the Dementors grew and I began to feel myself slipping farther and farther away into nothingness. I fought them with a stubbornness I never knew I had, trying to hold onto any part of myself and my memories that I could find. After what seemed like a lot of time (perhaps several years) I was rewarded. I began to notice that I wasn't as affected by the Dementors as others were. While the other prisoners continued ranting I was able, at long last, to stop. For some inexplicable reason I had retained my powers, even though Dementors were supposed to drain a wizard of them. For hours at a time I was able to transform into my dog form, thus holding on to the small shred of sanity left to me.
The only thing I couldn't get rid of was the presence of the Dementors all around my cell, nor could I get used to them. I knew the charm to keep them at bay of course but I needed my wand to do it and it had been taken from me. I wondered where it was now because I knew it hadn't been snapped. A wizard always knows when his wand is snapped. There is a backlash of power from it to the wizard when it happens. I hadn't felt that backlash so, therefore, my wand must still be somewhere around. Probably it was locked up even as I was. I could feel its power vibrate within me but I knew I must keep the fact that I knew it a secret because if they knew I knew they would snap it, so I said nothing.
The Dementors grew in number around me as time passed but I didn't have a clue as to why. I just figured it was normal for them. Their coldness and despair pervaded my soul and made me shiver but I tried, as best I could, to ignore them. Two things seemed to keep them from affecting me much; my transformations into a dog because a dogs thought are not as complex as a humans and something else which I couldn't begin to understand nor even explain.
It would happen during my times of deepest depression, when the Dementors had me fully in their power. Suddenly, I would feel their power recede into the background. Then a warmth would spread around my cold, dank cell and I would feel as if someone had thrown a warm and heavy blanket over me. The warmth would then spread throughout my body, pushing away the coldness and numbing despair that surrounded me. When this happened I would sit for hours in a trancelike state where it was possible for me to think clearly. I would then remember who I was and remember other things I had long since forgotten in my time in this dread fortress. I saw myself, side by side with my friends, roaming the school grounds and Hogsmead by day and night. I felt nothing but happiness during these times in trance and not even seeing Peter in those memories bothered me. I was just glad of the respite those memories gave me. I never saw anyone during these times, no bright lights, no ghostly beings, I just knew something was there watching over me and that someone was as interested in my survival as I was.
It was during one of these sessions that I discovered something important. Peter may in fact still be alive. I was watching a replay of the day I confronted him and I remembered the sewer rats that had been squealing in terror. Peter, like James and I, had been an animagi and his form was that of a rat. He could have transformed to this form and hidden himself, unnoticed by the authorities, among those rats I remembered. No one else knew he was an animagi except his three friends because he, like us, had never registered that fact with the proper authorities. I jumped out of bed. If he was still alive then he was all the proof I needed to free myself. The traces of the Fidelius charm would still be upon him. If I could find him… the excitement that I had known melted from me then. I had no way to find him. I was imprisoned in a place none had ever escaped from.
"What if I were to try though?"
The thought came unbidden into my mind. This was not the first time I had had this thought. I had many times in the past thought of escaping but knowing that I was in a fortress in the middle of the cold North Sea, with the nearest land miles away I had given it up as impossible. Now surrounded by warmth I began to see how it might be possible. I couldn't escape Azkaban as a man but as a dog… It just might be possible. I knew the Dementors wouldn't notice if I passed out of my cell as a dog. They can't see, they only feel and it was harder for them to feel a dog's thoughts. I could then swim back to land and begin my search for Peter. My dog form, though it was weak, was stronger then my human form and knowing they would be looking for me after my escape I decided to travel as a dog. No one but my three friends knew I was an animagi and of the three one was dead, the second in hiding somewhere I was sure and the third, if he still lived, had his own problems. I resolved to try and escape if I could manage it.
When the chill of the Dementors returned to me they were unable to drive the thought of escape from me. I wanted to be free. I needed to clear my name before it was too late. My mind made plans and my spirit was somewhat restored. I waited only for the voice inside me to tell me when it was time. So the waiting game began.
One day as I sat in my cell, going over my escape plan for the hundredth time, I became aware of voices outside my cell in the passage beyond. I strained my ears to listen more carefully. One was a voice I recognized, someone from my past. I racked my brain, trying to come up with a name, a face, something, anything that would help me identify who spoke. Quite suddenly the voices stopped right outside my cell. I got up, crossed to the door and looked out of the barred window of my door. Two men were talking to one another in low tones. The first was unfamiliar to me but the second was someone I remembered.
"Fudge…" I croaked, having not used my voice in some time.
He whipped his head around to look at me through the bars.
"Sirius Black?" he asked, faintly surprised.
I nodded, not trusting my feeble voice to speak again. I noticed that he had a newspaper tucked under his arm and suddenly I felt the need to know what year it was.
As he turned away to leave I asked hoarsely, "Are you finished with the Daily Prophet? I really miss doing the crossword, most of all."
He turned and gave me a penetrating stare before replying, "I'm finished with it and I can't see what harm you could do to yourself with it."
He handed it to me through the bars still looking puzzled by my actions. I smiled faintly and thanked him for the paper. He left after that still shaking his head. I didn't care because I had what I wanted from him. I opened the paper and looked for the masthead where the date always appeared. The date was 31 July 1993. I was shocked. It had been 12 years since I had last had news of the outside world. Twelve long, wasted years in prison for a crime I had not committed. Rage such as I had never known surged through me and unhappiness filled my heart.
I glanced down at the date again. Something about it was familiar about it. I sat deep in thought for some time ignoring the screams around me. Suddenly, Harry's smiling baby face popped into my head.
"Of course it's Harry's birthday."
I added up the years in my head and discovered that Harry was now thirteen and he would be attending Hogwarts. I wondered what he looked like now. When I had last seen him he was a bright-eyed, black-haired baby with a ready smile. Would he now look like James or more like Lily? Had his return to the wizarding world caused a stir? Was he the prankster his father had been? Had the Muggles treated him all right? I decided that I would look for him as I traveled the land in search of Peter who held the answers to all my questions.
I glanced through the paper, not really interested in anything else. As I glanced I noticed things has changed somewhat but yet seemed to remain the same. I was about to put the Prophet down when something on the front page caught my attention. It was a picture of a large and very happy family on vacation in Egypt. One could never mistaken the Pyramids as being from anywhere else. The Pyramids were not what held my attention though. There was a rat on the shoulder of what looked like the youngest boy.
"Peter…" I murmured, not daring to believe what I saw.
I rubbed my eyes and looked again but the image remained the same. It was he. I could never forget the exact form Peter took when he changed. All this time I had thought he was dead and here he was hiding as a rat in the wizarding world too. He'd been right there under everyone's noses for the entire twelve years I'd been in prison. Anger surged through me but I squelched it and read the article instead. My heart leapt into my throat. Peter would be at Hogwarts with Harry. I had to do something. I had to protect Harry from him. He was the traitor and a traitor could betray again. Harry was in the gravest danger as long as Peter was near him. I could see him smirking at Harry, as he had once done to me, watching while his master put an end to the last Potter.
"He would just love to be the one to hand Harry over to Voldemort," I thought bitterly. "That would restore him to the position of Voldemort's favorite."
I now waited in earnest for a chance to escape. Every day, every moment of my time was taken up with my escape plans. Waking and sleeping I repeated to myself, "He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts", like a litany. The Dementors probably thought I had gone off the deep end at last but I wasn't mad. I had become obsessed with finding Peter and killing him. I no longer cared that he was the only one who could clear my name. I just wanted his threat eliminated. In doing so I would be saving Harry's life and would finally have committed the crime I had been accused of and sent to prison for. The cost meant nothing to me just the saving of Harry's life. Protecting Harry meant everything to me. He was too important to the coming battle to lose. I was willing to save his life even if it meant that I had to sacrifice my own. I knew if I was caught I would be "killed" by the Dementors but it didn't matter. Harry's life was worth more then my own.
I waited impatiently for the time to come. Finally, one day I could stand it no longer. Perhaps it was the screaming and madness that surrounded me. Perhaps it was the dream I had the night before where I saw Peter handing a bound, gagged and defenseless Harry over to Voldmort. Perhaps my inner voice was telling me it was time. I resolved that day to escape the next time the door was opened. I changed into a dog and waited for the food to arrive. At long last I heard the key in the lock and saw the door open. Quick as a wink I bounded out the door and down the passage they had brought me up 12 years before. I could smell the salt in the air and I followed the scent to a pair of heavy wrought iron gates. I was just thin enough to slip through them easily and soon I was bounding down the rocky shore to the sea. I jumped into the sea on reaching the shoreline not wasting a moment in reflection or in looking back at the prison I now left behind me.
The water was icy cold and I knew I must hurry even as a dog. I swam for all I was worth. It seemed like hours later, which it was, when I was at last able to drag myself up onto the opposite shore to lay in a sodden heap on the sandy ground, shivering with the cold.
After several minuets I rose and took a look around me. This shore seemed familiar to me for some reason. Suddenly I realized that I had landed near my childhood home. This beach was where my friends and I had spent many summer holidays during school. I smiled the first real smile I had in awhile and crawled into the nearby woods to seek shelter. I found a pile of fallen leaves that made a soft bed and I fell instantly asleep, with a wide grin on my face. I was free at last.