Sirius carefully - trying not to come in contact with anything - made his way to the upstairs bathroom.
The shower felt so wonderful. The feeling of being clean soared through Sirius. He would never take it for granted again. He noticed his old bathrobe, which was still in the bathroom cupboard, fit him very loosely. He had lost a lot of weight.
He made his way to his bedrooms. The seven of them had slept over Saturday nights and had a nice Sunday morning together many a time, usually with Lily cooking. The only one of us who knew decent cooking charms… Everyone would pitch in on cleanup and catch up on their busy, active weeks… or worries… or weeks when they were agonizingly idle… or…
Think of the good parts, why don't you?
Sirius stared around his own room fondly. Right dead and center on the right side of the stairs and next to Linda's room - it was his. And he missed it, he missed the soft, comfy bed and fluffy pillows and windows that let in real sunlight and the wonderful view of the Hollow and all his possessions.
However, his old robes and Muggle clothes were no longer there. Probably confiscated… his money was untouched, however… Remus thought him a traitor and wouldn't have taken that if it meant the difference between life and death, and obviously the Ministry hadn't found it too important, either… his old Muggle magazines for mechanics… Sirius shook his head, remembering what his father's reaction when Sirius had set up trade as a Muggle/wizard mechanic… his spare wand was gone, well that woul d be confiscated above all else… the pictures in his room - many of friends, several of family, and a good deal on sports, mostly Quidditch - remained, and Sirius paused for a moment to enjoy looking at them again. More memories came rushing back. Azkaban had not stolen everything.
He smiled sadly, opening a drawer in his nightstand. The card he had already bought for Harry's second birthday was in there, untouched. He wished he could send it to him.
Sirius abruptly left the room - if he looked at that bed and recliner once more he was going to fall asleep in them, and he wouldn't get up for days, and who knew but that Remus or Annie or even Morwin might decide to make their way here? - and hesitated a moment before going into Rem's, which was at the rightmost edge of the hall.
It hadn't been used any more than the rest of the house, Sirius thought dejectedly. It was considerably barer than it had been even twelve years ago, and it wasn't as if it had been chockfull of belongings then. Rem had certainly packed up and left to go somewhere - where?
Sirius unlatched the clasp on the drawer to the nightstand, wondering if by any chance Remus had kept it -
It was still there.
*
"There just doesn't seem to be any cards to get a lovely couple on their second anniversary," grumbled Sirius. "Find anything, Moony?"
"Yeah. There's a card for a couple's sixty-third anniversary; I'm serious. And don't give me the 'I'm Sirius' line; it's getting old. But really. How many people know a couple who're having a sixty-third anniversary?"
"Not many, compared to how many people know a couple who're having a second anniversary," finished Sirius, nodding in agreement. "And, frankly, some of these I'd kill myself before I gave them to Lil and James. Honestly. Like the one joking about Entrancing Enchantments. Isn't that a bit…?"
"And worse are the ones that get too goody-goody," summarized Remus.
Sirius grinned, wondering how many people could have joint thoughts like this. "I should go to Diagon Alley and visit that Angie-woman who makes custom-cards."
"Good idea, actually… Sirius? What is it?"
Sirius grinned in delight. "This is what Lily and James are getting for their twentieth-anniversary." He handed the card over for his friend to read. It listed the Pros and Cons of Being Married As Long As You Two Have, complete with magically animatedly pictures that were sure to cause baby Harry to go into fits of laughter.
Remus read it and grinned. "You're sending that. I want no credit for it, thank you."
"Oh, but by that time I'll lose it!" Sirius realized. "Rem?"
"Yes, Padfoot?"
"Any chance you could keep that safe for me for about eighteen years?"
Remus laughed. "Sure thing."
"No, seriously. I'm buying it and want to send it to Jay and Lily for their twentieth anniversary. So swear to me, Marauder's honour."
They went through the rite, and ended up leaving without buying anything for the Potters' second anniversary. They then had some serious goose-chasing to do the night before the anniversary when they remembered. It was the last time Padfoot and Moony went on a "satisfyingly dangerously and idiotic adventure" together without suspecting each other of dealings with the Dark Side.
*
Somehow, the fact that Remus had still kept that, even with Sirius being a murdering traitor and Lily and James dead made Sirius feel better - although he was still hungry.
He resigned himself to putting on his old robes, even if they were over a decade old and filthy. What's the difference… He scrounged the house in his bathrobe first, though, trying to see if there was still a wand. But, of course, Remus would never just leave a wand lying about in an unattended house. Just my luck; anyone else might make that mistake in all the turmoil…
Everything and everything reminded Sirius of the Godric Hollow Gang of old. In the hallway was a long shelf of books. Morwin's. He was rather surprised they were still here, and concluded with another fit of tears that she must be dead as well. Nearly every one of her old books was still there, though. Good old Morwin.
On a considerably smaller shelf was a whimsical arrangement of… dice. Sirius laughed to himself. Collecting dice had been a pastime of James and Remus's, for reasons best known to themselves. Sirius had once asked James about it.
*
"Prongs? James, are you messing with those bloody dice again?"
"Just rearranging. If I don't spend time studying them I forget which ones we already have."
"You and Rem are absolutely insane." Sirius stared at the collection. Some were standard. Some were small enough to fight comfortably on Sirius's smallest fingernail; one was so large many of the others were placed on it. Some were regular black-and-white; the rest were every imaginable colour of the rainbow and many that weren't. Some were more than six-sided and some were even round. Some featured letters or colors or symbols and Egyptian hieroglyphics instead of numbered dots.
"Took you long enough to figure it out!" said James cheerfully.
"So what's the point?"
"Sirius, what on earth did we name this place?"
"Serendipity."
"Very good. One point from Gryffindor."
"Are we out of the negatives Zambia put us in?"
James laughed. "Do you remember why we named it 'Serendipity' when all the adults in our lives thought we were all absolutely raving mad?"
"Dumbledore liked it. He said it reflected us."
"Right. And what is it about us that we all take pride it?"
"Being unique." Very, very unique, thank you!
"Yep. And the dice collection is unique. Who else d'you know who collects dice?"
"I don't know too many people as mad as you and Moony, though."
"You're forgetting yourself."
"I said 'many'."
"I agree with Sirius," spoke up Lily suddenly. "Blotter" jumped; they hadn't noticed her listening. "I'm afraid to send Jay out to buy groceries; I know if he sees anything that resembles a die that he'll buy it without worrying about milk and bread. At least Rem is semi-rational about it; note I said 'semi'. Siri, thank you very much for not going in on that craze. Just for that, I won't poison your breakfast next Sunday."
James pouted and pointed out his lower lip. "So you don't like the fact I'm unique and independent?"
"Jay, love…" murmured Lily, before there was a loving embrace. Sirius had slipped out at this point to give them some privacy.
*
They were so deeply in love. I almost envied them. Was happy for them beyond belief; no one deserved it more than them. But I was jealous, a bit. The same way everyone was, but we were thrilled for them as well.
As if to prove the point, Sirius glanced over to Lily and James's room. It was right by the stairs on the left side. Originally it had been two separate rooms, but after a while they had simply taken down the wall and fixed that pretty easily. Sirius had spent days teasing them about it, of course, but what else was to be expected?
Sirius suddenly had an urge to go to Peter's room - at the lefternmost side of the second floor - before he realized that wasn't too prudent nor would it look good on his record. He was sane for tonight, at least, and had to try to keep it that way.
Instead, he concentrated on leaving for Surrey - but first climbed up through the attic. There was a trapdoor to it in Remus's room, but Sirius already felt like he had invaded it one time too many and took the ordinary, boring staircase.
It was unfinished and dusty, the way Linda and Sirius and Remus and Morwin (and Peter, but Sirius prefered not to think of him) relished it, but the walls were hung with gorgeous murals and collages - mostly Lily's. Lily had been quite the artist. And many were joint efforts with Lily and Remus, who spent hours creating landscapes together.
Sirius noted sadly that, like the dice collection, there were no new additions to the murals. The one the two had been working on when Lily had been forced into hiding - a sunset on a desert, rich is desert-like colours and whimsical details that characterized their work - was still unfinished. Not so much as a paintbrush stoke had been added.
Sirius studied the others for a moment. There was one particularly admirable one of the solar system. Lily and Remus had cheated a bit by spelling the colours somewhat so that they glimmered and shone, but as Lil retorted when Sirius pointed this out: "This is our hobby and we make the rules!"
Sirius knew better than to argue. Lil and Rem, like Lin, were thought mild and even easy to walk on, but Sirius knew better. They eventually got their revenge, and it wasn't pretty. Just ask Severus Snape, who had learned the hard way when he asked Linda to the Leaving Ball. Or David Avery, who had started making sneering remarks at the condition of Remus's schoolbooks very loudly in the Great Hall. That had lasted exactly a week before Avery had eaten a large slice of humble pie. And then talk to Edmund Wilkes, who had made three "Mudblood" comments to Lily before she smiled sweetly, and, before Wilkes knew what hit him, had disgraced his name before the whole school.
The best part was, they made the revenge look so innocent, Sirius thought with a sad grin. It was the best thing to watch and the worst thing to be on the receiving end of.
There was also a collage. It was mainly worked on by Lily and James, although almost everyone had added to it. It was the Harry Collage. Scraps of official documents, photographs, the first slip of paper Harry had taken a quill to… still unfinished, not a thing added for twelve years. Sirius almost felt a little angry with Remus. That was been important.
When we all learn the truth, we'll get it to Harry…
Sirius took one last glance around, at the painting of birds Lily had constructed in their fifth year to help her cope with the grief of her parents' deaths, and of the detailed ink picture of the Gryffindor Common Room Remus had become absorbed in one night when he was still angry with Sirius for his prank that had gotten out of hand in their sixth year. Remus had been so upset he had worked eight solid hours on the picture, recording every single detail of the beloved room, when James had finally awakened him from his trance. Sirius felt homesick just looking at it. The photograph-like drawing of a room that represented times when everything was so much simpler - "How d'we get into the Slytherin common room without getting caught?" - tore at his insides.
He slowly stole from the attic, resisting the urge to take Lily's drawing of a young Harry trying to figure out how a kite worked with him.
"You're wandering around a good bit," said a smart, sarcastic voice of the hallway mirror that Sirius knew all too well.
Sirius turned to it in surprise. Opening his mouth, he found that speaking felt odd, the same he had when Fudge had come…
*
"Inspection!" called another voice Sirius knew well. Christopher Benning, the Azkaban cook. The call served little purpose since nearly everyone was too far gone to register what that meant, but Sirius's thoughts broke for a moment. Inspection. Human contact… and then a memory of running furiously to what was once the Potters' home came to him, and he concentrated on that life-saving thought again.
I am innocent.
Keeping track of time was not really an easy thing is Azkaban, so Sirius couldn't say how much longer it was when three new, sane voices came along. His head cleared. The dementors had parted for Cornelius Fudge, Nicholas Chase, and Marta Colton. Sirius reflected that it was pointless for inspections, really. Did it just give Fudge a sense of importance? Did he like coming here?
If so, he's more insane than the rest of us…
Sirius kept asking questions. If he could ask questions, his mind could clear enough to be semi-rational. Nicholas Chase - was that really him? He had been a witty Hufflepuff in Sirius's year… right? Marta Colton; she must be ancient. How old now? She certainly looked to be somewhere in the thousands. Fudge. Was he Minister now? What was it gossip had said? Granted, Azkaban gossip was not always accurate, but it kept them alive. Was that a newspaper in Fudge's hand? And a canary on Nick's shoulder? Nick was still keeping canaries? Why were Nick and Colton backing off? Giving Fudge some room? Did Nick not want to face his old friend? What would be Fudge's reaction if he, Sirius, started talking cheerfully? Was that Marauder instincts kicking in? Well, that was a good thing, right? Except, of course, for the fact that he had killed Lily and James and Rose and had no right to be called a Marauder. But wouldn't it be fun?
"Hello, Mr. Fudge," said Sirius brightly.
Fudge jumped, his eyes traveling to Sirius. Sirius knew he must look a mess but barely cared. He knew his voice was a bit rusty from lack of use but barely cared. Was that really a newspaper in Fudge's hand? Newspapers were wonderful things when Azkaban inmates could get their hands on one. Reading kept you sane for a time.
Fudge visibly paled. Scary old convict, eh? " 'Morning, Black," he said, trying to make his voice sharp. Sirius wasn't fooled.
But two can play that game. I won't try to sound desperate and give him the satisfaction.
"Morning? Really?" Sirius replied in a bored, indifferent tone as if he had plenty of better things to do than chat with Cornelius Fudge. "Interesting. Somewhat hard to tell in here. That's Marta Colton with you?"
"Er, yes."
"Interesting one, she always was. What's she doing now?"
"Department for Magical Law Enforcement… same as Chase…"
"Hmm. Always thought that Department could use some competent people; congratulations on finding Nick."
"Er, thanks. Er, must be going, Black…"
"Oh, yeah, sure," said Sirius casually. "Say," he continued, sounding just as offhand, "you done with that paper?"
"Oh! Erm, er…"
Articulate one, eh? "I rather miss doing the crossword, sir."
Fudge seemed completely flustered. He glanced back at Nick and Colton, who weren't even behind him or in sight. "Sure. Good day, Black."
"Same to you, Fudge."
Sirius glanced at the front cover, feeling exhausted just from the effort of talking. "20 July, 1993…" So it had been… twelve years… twelve years taken out of his life… Harry would be… thirteen… and he was… thirty-three. Thirty-three. And still here.
"Ministry Official Scoops Grand Prize…" Arthur Weasley. He remembered Prongs and Lin telling him about the generosity of Molly Weasley to the Aurors one night when they were in a dreary-looking fix. Good for them, although it was most likely fixed. Kids at Hogwarts? Hmm… that boy with the rat looked to be about Harry's age…
The boy with the rat?
Sirius felt paralyzed, staring at the photograph. Even in black-and-white, and even in the dim light of Azkaban, and the mist that was filling his head again after the inspection, he knew that particular rat…
Wormtail.
Peter.
Murderer.
And a fire was lit.
*
"Yeah, lots of ground to cover," Sirius now said casually. "So who else has been in here?"
"Here? My goodness." Sirius could practically hear the mirror smirk. "Not in ages and ages. I've been quite bored, really."
Oh, let me get you a crying towel. I'm so moved in pity.
"Who… who was the last here?"
"Well, now let me see. There was the Lin-girl. Right after Lily and James died. She wasn't the last, but I thought you'd like to know, seeing as you were so fond of her. Tears streaming down her face and throwing a few things into a suitcase and getting something of Lily's for the baby. But the last one here was your friend Remus. He stopped by a few times every couple of days after the half of you all got killed, finding stuff for the Ministry, I think. But it was exactly the 15th of November of that year when someone was last year, and that was him. Just sobbing silently the whole time and packing up and few things, setting up wards and enchantments, and goodness knows how he could even see through all those tears…"
Sirius's fist clenched. That mirror just thrived off of misery, very much like a Slytherin… or a dementor…
"…looking all pale and blotchy and dreadful." The mirror sounded positively delighted, but she broke off suddenly. "And it's been empty ever since."
Sirius tried really, really hard to feel her pain but truthfully couldn't.
"What are you doing here? You're in Azkaban," the mirror went on smugly.
"I know I am. I'm my twin brother."
"Oh, I don't know, Sirius. Your humor is a bit rusty. I suppose you didn't get to practice much in that place."
"No, not really," said Sirius sarcastically.
"You're getting pretty nasty as well. But, oh, weren't you the one who got angry when I 'insulted' your friends? Oh, yes, and all I ever did was tell the truth."
"You do know Sibyll Trelawney always laboured under that impression?"
"Sibyll Trelawney?" repeated the mirror blankly.
"Never mind."
The mirror was thoroughly put out. "Well, that's okay, you act superior! Not that you're in any position to! Just like that dratted little Fairchild girl and the werewolf and -"
Sirius's blood pounded in his ears. He didn't want to hear one more insult. "May I remind you that I am a mad escapee from Azkaban and it wouldn't be out of character for me to throw something at you?" he demanded harshly, turning away sharply. Damn mirror. Who's idea had that been?
His.
Oh.
Right.
Sighing, he made his way slowly down the stairs. He stared at the Daily Prophets a moment. Should he read some more, find out what had been happening?
He glanced down at the dizzying paragraphs of small print stating all the work of Death Eater round-ups after Voldemort's fall and decided against it.
No one, including Remus and Morwin and Dumbledore… in twelve years. Is anyone really going to miss it if I take something?
"And I heard them going on about how you killed Lilsy and Jamie! You know you're an evil murderer, Black - and look what you did! Look what you did - they're all lonely and I'm so bored I've fallen to the level of talking to you…!" shrieked the mirror.
Sirius's sane thoughts left him as he screamed back: "It wasn't me! It wasn't me! 'Twasn't!" Angrily he snatched at thin air, starting to cry again. He had one thought: "It was Peter!"
"That idiot?" the mirror called back. Sirius didn't notice he had spoken aloud.
"I'm going! I'll get him! I'll find the - the truth!" Sirius slammed the door shut and transformed.
A few minutes later, a sharp-eyed person might have seen a large black dog running at a furiously fast clip to what looked to be Little Winging, Surrey. One man did and was awake all night, upset at what might have caused the canine to be so afraid, until finally his wife snapped at him bad-temperedly to stop daydreaming in the dead of night and get some sleep.
The shower felt so wonderful. The feeling of being clean soared through Sirius. He would never take it for granted again. He noticed his old bathrobe, which was still in the bathroom cupboard, fit him very loosely. He had lost a lot of weight.
He made his way to his bedrooms. The seven of them had slept over Saturday nights and had a nice Sunday morning together many a time, usually with Lily cooking. The only one of us who knew decent cooking charms… Everyone would pitch in on cleanup and catch up on their busy, active weeks… or worries… or weeks when they were agonizingly idle… or…
Think of the good parts, why don't you?
Sirius stared around his own room fondly. Right dead and center on the right side of the stairs and next to Linda's room - it was his. And he missed it, he missed the soft, comfy bed and fluffy pillows and windows that let in real sunlight and the wonderful view of the Hollow and all his possessions.
However, his old robes and Muggle clothes were no longer there. Probably confiscated… his money was untouched, however… Remus thought him a traitor and wouldn't have taken that if it meant the difference between life and death, and obviously the Ministry hadn't found it too important, either… his old Muggle magazines for mechanics… Sirius shook his head, remembering what his father's reaction when Sirius had set up trade as a Muggle/wizard mechanic… his spare wand was gone, well that woul d be confiscated above all else… the pictures in his room - many of friends, several of family, and a good deal on sports, mostly Quidditch - remained, and Sirius paused for a moment to enjoy looking at them again. More memories came rushing back. Azkaban had not stolen everything.
He smiled sadly, opening a drawer in his nightstand. The card he had already bought for Harry's second birthday was in there, untouched. He wished he could send it to him.
Sirius abruptly left the room - if he looked at that bed and recliner once more he was going to fall asleep in them, and he wouldn't get up for days, and who knew but that Remus or Annie or even Morwin might decide to make their way here? - and hesitated a moment before going into Rem's, which was at the rightmost edge of the hall.
It hadn't been used any more than the rest of the house, Sirius thought dejectedly. It was considerably barer than it had been even twelve years ago, and it wasn't as if it had been chockfull of belongings then. Rem had certainly packed up and left to go somewhere - where?
Sirius unlatched the clasp on the drawer to the nightstand, wondering if by any chance Remus had kept it -
It was still there.
*
"There just doesn't seem to be any cards to get a lovely couple on their second anniversary," grumbled Sirius. "Find anything, Moony?"
"Yeah. There's a card for a couple's sixty-third anniversary; I'm serious. And don't give me the 'I'm Sirius' line; it's getting old. But really. How many people know a couple who're having a sixty-third anniversary?"
"Not many, compared to how many people know a couple who're having a second anniversary," finished Sirius, nodding in agreement. "And, frankly, some of these I'd kill myself before I gave them to Lil and James. Honestly. Like the one joking about Entrancing Enchantments. Isn't that a bit…?"
"And worse are the ones that get too goody-goody," summarized Remus.
Sirius grinned, wondering how many people could have joint thoughts like this. "I should go to Diagon Alley and visit that Angie-woman who makes custom-cards."
"Good idea, actually… Sirius? What is it?"
Sirius grinned in delight. "This is what Lily and James are getting for their twentieth-anniversary." He handed the card over for his friend to read. It listed the Pros and Cons of Being Married As Long As You Two Have, complete with magically animatedly pictures that were sure to cause baby Harry to go into fits of laughter.
Remus read it and grinned. "You're sending that. I want no credit for it, thank you."
"Oh, but by that time I'll lose it!" Sirius realized. "Rem?"
"Yes, Padfoot?"
"Any chance you could keep that safe for me for about eighteen years?"
Remus laughed. "Sure thing."
"No, seriously. I'm buying it and want to send it to Jay and Lily for their twentieth anniversary. So swear to me, Marauder's honour."
They went through the rite, and ended up leaving without buying anything for the Potters' second anniversary. They then had some serious goose-chasing to do the night before the anniversary when they remembered. It was the last time Padfoot and Moony went on a "satisfyingly dangerously and idiotic adventure" together without suspecting each other of dealings with the Dark Side.
*
Somehow, the fact that Remus had still kept that, even with Sirius being a murdering traitor and Lily and James dead made Sirius feel better - although he was still hungry.
He resigned himself to putting on his old robes, even if they were over a decade old and filthy. What's the difference… He scrounged the house in his bathrobe first, though, trying to see if there was still a wand. But, of course, Remus would never just leave a wand lying about in an unattended house. Just my luck; anyone else might make that mistake in all the turmoil…
Everything and everything reminded Sirius of the Godric Hollow Gang of old. In the hallway was a long shelf of books. Morwin's. He was rather surprised they were still here, and concluded with another fit of tears that she must be dead as well. Nearly every one of her old books was still there, though. Good old Morwin.
On a considerably smaller shelf was a whimsical arrangement of… dice. Sirius laughed to himself. Collecting dice had been a pastime of James and Remus's, for reasons best known to themselves. Sirius had once asked James about it.
*
"Prongs? James, are you messing with those bloody dice again?"
"Just rearranging. If I don't spend time studying them I forget which ones we already have."
"You and Rem are absolutely insane." Sirius stared at the collection. Some were standard. Some were small enough to fight comfortably on Sirius's smallest fingernail; one was so large many of the others were placed on it. Some were regular black-and-white; the rest were every imaginable colour of the rainbow and many that weren't. Some were more than six-sided and some were even round. Some featured letters or colors or symbols and Egyptian hieroglyphics instead of numbered dots.
"Took you long enough to figure it out!" said James cheerfully.
"So what's the point?"
"Sirius, what on earth did we name this place?"
"Serendipity."
"Very good. One point from Gryffindor."
"Are we out of the negatives Zambia put us in?"
James laughed. "Do you remember why we named it 'Serendipity' when all the adults in our lives thought we were all absolutely raving mad?"
"Dumbledore liked it. He said it reflected us."
"Right. And what is it about us that we all take pride it?"
"Being unique." Very, very unique, thank you!
"Yep. And the dice collection is unique. Who else d'you know who collects dice?"
"I don't know too many people as mad as you and Moony, though."
"You're forgetting yourself."
"I said 'many'."
"I agree with Sirius," spoke up Lily suddenly. "Blotter" jumped; they hadn't noticed her listening. "I'm afraid to send Jay out to buy groceries; I know if he sees anything that resembles a die that he'll buy it without worrying about milk and bread. At least Rem is semi-rational about it; note I said 'semi'. Siri, thank you very much for not going in on that craze. Just for that, I won't poison your breakfast next Sunday."
James pouted and pointed out his lower lip. "So you don't like the fact I'm unique and independent?"
"Jay, love…" murmured Lily, before there was a loving embrace. Sirius had slipped out at this point to give them some privacy.
*
They were so deeply in love. I almost envied them. Was happy for them beyond belief; no one deserved it more than them. But I was jealous, a bit. The same way everyone was, but we were thrilled for them as well.
As if to prove the point, Sirius glanced over to Lily and James's room. It was right by the stairs on the left side. Originally it had been two separate rooms, but after a while they had simply taken down the wall and fixed that pretty easily. Sirius had spent days teasing them about it, of course, but what else was to be expected?
Sirius suddenly had an urge to go to Peter's room - at the lefternmost side of the second floor - before he realized that wasn't too prudent nor would it look good on his record. He was sane for tonight, at least, and had to try to keep it that way.
Instead, he concentrated on leaving for Surrey - but first climbed up through the attic. There was a trapdoor to it in Remus's room, but Sirius already felt like he had invaded it one time too many and took the ordinary, boring staircase.
It was unfinished and dusty, the way Linda and Sirius and Remus and Morwin (and Peter, but Sirius prefered not to think of him) relished it, but the walls were hung with gorgeous murals and collages - mostly Lily's. Lily had been quite the artist. And many were joint efforts with Lily and Remus, who spent hours creating landscapes together.
Sirius noted sadly that, like the dice collection, there were no new additions to the murals. The one the two had been working on when Lily had been forced into hiding - a sunset on a desert, rich is desert-like colours and whimsical details that characterized their work - was still unfinished. Not so much as a paintbrush stoke had been added.
Sirius studied the others for a moment. There was one particularly admirable one of the solar system. Lily and Remus had cheated a bit by spelling the colours somewhat so that they glimmered and shone, but as Lil retorted when Sirius pointed this out: "This is our hobby and we make the rules!"
Sirius knew better than to argue. Lil and Rem, like Lin, were thought mild and even easy to walk on, but Sirius knew better. They eventually got their revenge, and it wasn't pretty. Just ask Severus Snape, who had learned the hard way when he asked Linda to the Leaving Ball. Or David Avery, who had started making sneering remarks at the condition of Remus's schoolbooks very loudly in the Great Hall. That had lasted exactly a week before Avery had eaten a large slice of humble pie. And then talk to Edmund Wilkes, who had made three "Mudblood" comments to Lily before she smiled sweetly, and, before Wilkes knew what hit him, had disgraced his name before the whole school.
The best part was, they made the revenge look so innocent, Sirius thought with a sad grin. It was the best thing to watch and the worst thing to be on the receiving end of.
There was also a collage. It was mainly worked on by Lily and James, although almost everyone had added to it. It was the Harry Collage. Scraps of official documents, photographs, the first slip of paper Harry had taken a quill to… still unfinished, not a thing added for twelve years. Sirius almost felt a little angry with Remus. That was been important.
When we all learn the truth, we'll get it to Harry…
Sirius took one last glance around, at the painting of birds Lily had constructed in their fifth year to help her cope with the grief of her parents' deaths, and of the detailed ink picture of the Gryffindor Common Room Remus had become absorbed in one night when he was still angry with Sirius for his prank that had gotten out of hand in their sixth year. Remus had been so upset he had worked eight solid hours on the picture, recording every single detail of the beloved room, when James had finally awakened him from his trance. Sirius felt homesick just looking at it. The photograph-like drawing of a room that represented times when everything was so much simpler - "How d'we get into the Slytherin common room without getting caught?" - tore at his insides.
He slowly stole from the attic, resisting the urge to take Lily's drawing of a young Harry trying to figure out how a kite worked with him.
"You're wandering around a good bit," said a smart, sarcastic voice of the hallway mirror that Sirius knew all too well.
Sirius turned to it in surprise. Opening his mouth, he found that speaking felt odd, the same he had when Fudge had come…
*
"Inspection!" called another voice Sirius knew well. Christopher Benning, the Azkaban cook. The call served little purpose since nearly everyone was too far gone to register what that meant, but Sirius's thoughts broke for a moment. Inspection. Human contact… and then a memory of running furiously to what was once the Potters' home came to him, and he concentrated on that life-saving thought again.
I am innocent.
Keeping track of time was not really an easy thing is Azkaban, so Sirius couldn't say how much longer it was when three new, sane voices came along. His head cleared. The dementors had parted for Cornelius Fudge, Nicholas Chase, and Marta Colton. Sirius reflected that it was pointless for inspections, really. Did it just give Fudge a sense of importance? Did he like coming here?
If so, he's more insane than the rest of us…
Sirius kept asking questions. If he could ask questions, his mind could clear enough to be semi-rational. Nicholas Chase - was that really him? He had been a witty Hufflepuff in Sirius's year… right? Marta Colton; she must be ancient. How old now? She certainly looked to be somewhere in the thousands. Fudge. Was he Minister now? What was it gossip had said? Granted, Azkaban gossip was not always accurate, but it kept them alive. Was that a newspaper in Fudge's hand? And a canary on Nick's shoulder? Nick was still keeping canaries? Why were Nick and Colton backing off? Giving Fudge some room? Did Nick not want to face his old friend? What would be Fudge's reaction if he, Sirius, started talking cheerfully? Was that Marauder instincts kicking in? Well, that was a good thing, right? Except, of course, for the fact that he had killed Lily and James and Rose and had no right to be called a Marauder. But wouldn't it be fun?
"Hello, Mr. Fudge," said Sirius brightly.
Fudge jumped, his eyes traveling to Sirius. Sirius knew he must look a mess but barely cared. He knew his voice was a bit rusty from lack of use but barely cared. Was that really a newspaper in Fudge's hand? Newspapers were wonderful things when Azkaban inmates could get their hands on one. Reading kept you sane for a time.
Fudge visibly paled. Scary old convict, eh? " 'Morning, Black," he said, trying to make his voice sharp. Sirius wasn't fooled.
But two can play that game. I won't try to sound desperate and give him the satisfaction.
"Morning? Really?" Sirius replied in a bored, indifferent tone as if he had plenty of better things to do than chat with Cornelius Fudge. "Interesting. Somewhat hard to tell in here. That's Marta Colton with you?"
"Er, yes."
"Interesting one, she always was. What's she doing now?"
"Department for Magical Law Enforcement… same as Chase…"
"Hmm. Always thought that Department could use some competent people; congratulations on finding Nick."
"Er, thanks. Er, must be going, Black…"
"Oh, yeah, sure," said Sirius casually. "Say," he continued, sounding just as offhand, "you done with that paper?"
"Oh! Erm, er…"
Articulate one, eh? "I rather miss doing the crossword, sir."
Fudge seemed completely flustered. He glanced back at Nick and Colton, who weren't even behind him or in sight. "Sure. Good day, Black."
"Same to you, Fudge."
Sirius glanced at the front cover, feeling exhausted just from the effort of talking. "20 July, 1993…" So it had been… twelve years… twelve years taken out of his life… Harry would be… thirteen… and he was… thirty-three. Thirty-three. And still here.
"Ministry Official Scoops Grand Prize…" Arthur Weasley. He remembered Prongs and Lin telling him about the generosity of Molly Weasley to the Aurors one night when they were in a dreary-looking fix. Good for them, although it was most likely fixed. Kids at Hogwarts? Hmm… that boy with the rat looked to be about Harry's age…
The boy with the rat?
Sirius felt paralyzed, staring at the photograph. Even in black-and-white, and even in the dim light of Azkaban, and the mist that was filling his head again after the inspection, he knew that particular rat…
Wormtail.
Peter.
Murderer.
And a fire was lit.
*
"Yeah, lots of ground to cover," Sirius now said casually. "So who else has been in here?"
"Here? My goodness." Sirius could practically hear the mirror smirk. "Not in ages and ages. I've been quite bored, really."
Oh, let me get you a crying towel. I'm so moved in pity.
"Who… who was the last here?"
"Well, now let me see. There was the Lin-girl. Right after Lily and James died. She wasn't the last, but I thought you'd like to know, seeing as you were so fond of her. Tears streaming down her face and throwing a few things into a suitcase and getting something of Lily's for the baby. But the last one here was your friend Remus. He stopped by a few times every couple of days after the half of you all got killed, finding stuff for the Ministry, I think. But it was exactly the 15th of November of that year when someone was last year, and that was him. Just sobbing silently the whole time and packing up and few things, setting up wards and enchantments, and goodness knows how he could even see through all those tears…"
Sirius's fist clenched. That mirror just thrived off of misery, very much like a Slytherin… or a dementor…
"…looking all pale and blotchy and dreadful." The mirror sounded positively delighted, but she broke off suddenly. "And it's been empty ever since."
Sirius tried really, really hard to feel her pain but truthfully couldn't.
"What are you doing here? You're in Azkaban," the mirror went on smugly.
"I know I am. I'm my twin brother."
"Oh, I don't know, Sirius. Your humor is a bit rusty. I suppose you didn't get to practice much in that place."
"No, not really," said Sirius sarcastically.
"You're getting pretty nasty as well. But, oh, weren't you the one who got angry when I 'insulted' your friends? Oh, yes, and all I ever did was tell the truth."
"You do know Sibyll Trelawney always laboured under that impression?"
"Sibyll Trelawney?" repeated the mirror blankly.
"Never mind."
The mirror was thoroughly put out. "Well, that's okay, you act superior! Not that you're in any position to! Just like that dratted little Fairchild girl and the werewolf and -"
Sirius's blood pounded in his ears. He didn't want to hear one more insult. "May I remind you that I am a mad escapee from Azkaban and it wouldn't be out of character for me to throw something at you?" he demanded harshly, turning away sharply. Damn mirror. Who's idea had that been?
His.
Oh.
Right.
Sighing, he made his way slowly down the stairs. He stared at the Daily Prophets a moment. Should he read some more, find out what had been happening?
He glanced down at the dizzying paragraphs of small print stating all the work of Death Eater round-ups after Voldemort's fall and decided against it.
No one, including Remus and Morwin and Dumbledore… in twelve years. Is anyone really going to miss it if I take something?
"And I heard them going on about how you killed Lilsy and Jamie! You know you're an evil murderer, Black - and look what you did! Look what you did - they're all lonely and I'm so bored I've fallen to the level of talking to you…!" shrieked the mirror.
Sirius's sane thoughts left him as he screamed back: "It wasn't me! It wasn't me! 'Twasn't!" Angrily he snatched at thin air, starting to cry again. He had one thought: "It was Peter!"
"That idiot?" the mirror called back. Sirius didn't notice he had spoken aloud.
"I'm going! I'll get him! I'll find the - the truth!" Sirius slammed the door shut and transformed.
A few minutes later, a sharp-eyed person might have seen a large black dog running at a furiously fast clip to what looked to be Little Winging, Surrey. One man did and was awake all night, upset at what might have caused the canine to be so afraid, until finally his wife snapped at him bad-temperedly to stop daydreaming in the dead of night and get some sleep.