Epilogue
There was colour in the cell; only the wine-purple of a travelling cloak, and the lime-green of a bowler hat, but it seemed impossibly bright to Sirius's gaolblind eyes.
'So…Mr Black, isn't it?'
'Yessir,' muttered Sirius.
Why does he ask me my name when he already knows?
'Life sentences, am I right? Concurrent, for the murder of one wizard and a number of Muggles?'
'Yessir.'
He's doing it again.
'And here in prison, are conditions reasonable?'
'Yessir.'
Reasonable? What does reasonable mean in the custody of the Dementors?
'Do the Dementors take good care of you? Are you fed, watered regularly?'
'Yessir.'
The Dementors are unstinting in their efforts as far as that goes. I have seen them force bread and water into a tow-headed boy who only wished to end his wasted existence. We are no good to them dead – by starving ourselves of bread we starve them of their far richer food. What a sick irony it is, our wretched, miserable lives are infinitely precious to them – the more miserable, the more precious.
'Well, the cell is clean and of approved dimensions, I see no cause to complain…Shall we continue?'
This to the small retinue waiting outside the door.
'Errm…s'cuse me…sir?'
'Yes…Mr Black?' The Very Important Wizard looking down at the grimy prisoner with some distaste.
'I don't suppose…I could have your newspaper? I used to love the crossword puzzles, you see…' Sirius trailed off, realising how ridiculous his request would sound.
It wasn't even a lie. I've always been fond of crosswords. Strange to think of it, but I can't remember the last time I told a lie. I didn't even lie to Hagrid when he was being detained.
As a matter of fact, Cornelius Fudge was coming to the end of a long and gruelling day of prison-inspection, and was inclined to be magnanimous. 'Well, I suppose so…I don't see why not…no harm in it…' he muttered, throwing the Daily Prophet down.
'Thank you, sir.'
It's not really the crossword (though I am looking forward to it) that I want. This newspaper is an affirmation that Azkaban is not the world, that life continues outside. And maybe – just maybe – news of the people who I think about every day. Peter. And Harry.
'Now, we really must be getting along, as we are shockingly late…Goodbye, Mr Black.'
'Goodbye, sir.'
And with a flourish of that purple cloak, he strides away, and the door clangs shut. Key in lock, iron on iron. Stone surrounds me, and squalid cloth. And dogman flesh…but less of that than should be there. And – paper.
* * *
Sirius Black slept alone in his cell.
Beneath his heavy paws, he clutched a newspaper.
~ Fin ~
Author's Note: Since I wrote this story, someone kindly pointed out to me that my original ending was in contradiction of canon, because Hagrid goes back to Hogwarts before the Weasleys go on holiday. They're absolutely correct. However, in my defence, I didn't have access to Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets when I was writing the fic (except for a sneaky peek in a bookshop just to check that Hagrid was arrested after Hermione was Petrified), and I did not recall that Hagrid shows up at the celebration feast right at the end of Chamber of Secrets. I only remembered Dumbledore telling McGonagall 'I must write to Azkaban…we need our gamekeeper back,' so I thought that Hagrid could have been released at any point over the summer holiday. Aaarrgghh!! Anyway, I've made some changes and added a new chapter. If anyone's still reading this far, I hope you liked my story. If you read and review it, I promise I'll read and review at least one of yours. (Although if it's about Draco renouncing evil and joining forces with Harry and a gorgeous violet-eyed American exchange student to beat Voldemort once and for all, expect a little constructive criticism.)