A/N - Again, long time no update. I apologize, but also remind you again: I warned you before that my updating skills are minimal.
Disclaimer - When Sirius gets out of Azkaban he can live at my house. The Ministry will never look for him here!
*~*
Sirius sat, bound, gagged, and wandless in the prow of a small, wildly rocking rowboat. A grim-faced, silent man rowed in distrustful silence, every now and then glancing at his passenger.
It was not only the erratic motion of the waves that was making Sirius feel sick, even though the sea was certainly a factor. Bartemius Crouch had given the order that forbade him a fair trial. If only, Sirius thought bitterly, I'd been tried. I could have told the truth - maybe if I'd insisted being dosed with Veritaserum... But he hadn't.
Ahead of him lay his fate. Behind him lay the world.
Throat tight, Sirius tried not to think. Though he was a brave enough man, the thought of what had brought him to this point made him weak with despair and even a touch of fear. The entire magical world thought he was a crazed mass-murderer. His best friend was dead, betrayed by another friend. His godson was in the care of the worst Muggles in England. His other close friend would never know the truth, and would try to push out his memory, even spurning him completely. He was completely alone.
Sirius stared over the edge of the boat into the pitch-black water. The spray was icy cold, but...the water itself looked almost...inviting. What point was there to living, after all, when everything he'd ever cared about was lost forever, torn into fragments by one bastard back-stabber?
He shuffled himself slightly to one side, pondering. Stand and throw himself overboard? Or just tumble out still sitting? Which way would be less likely to attract the attention of the ferryman in time?
Sirius stared dully into the water. Slowly, he felt himself leaning, leaning, ever so slowly over...From any point of view, death was definitely the most attractive option... The water was getting ever so slightly closer...If he fell now, he'd never be able to get himself free in time to swim to the surface...which would be nice...it meant he had no options once he'd decided...
A hand snatched at the back of his robes and heaved him upright. "Nice try, Master Black," sneered the ferryman. "You're going to Azkaban alive, whether you like it or not."
Sirius' lips compressed and his eyes closed. His suicide attempt hadn't worked. He doubted he'd get another one.
He didn't bother looking around. Sirius knew Azkaban was just ahead; he could literally feel the horror and despair rolling off it in suffocating waves, worse than that of the ocean. He swallowed, knowing that he'd much rather have committed himself to the deeps than to this horrible place. Sirius remembered too many stories of the wizard prison, and a seed of fear began sprouting within him as he realized he'd better fear for his sanity.
Sirius felt the boat scrape the rocky beach, an awful grinding sound that fell dully on the thick air. The man rowing him shoved him out of the boat. Sirius stumbled and fell, helpless in his bonds. His knees scraped as he scrabbled against the rocks. The ferryman pushed off, rowing hard for the mainland.
Slowly, he turned his head and looked out across the ocean, back the way he'd come. Far, far off, he could just barely make out the smudge of land against the horizon. Sirius breathed deeply, trying to memorize the look of the cloudy grey sky, the grey waves, the fresh smell of the salty air, and the cool wind caressing his face. It would probably be the last thing he would ever see of the real world. Against all his will, a tear slid down his face. No, no, I won't stay, I can't - I'm innocent... a childish voice inside him pleaded.
Sirius was suddenly glad he'd landed on the beach on his knees, for in the next breath a darkness rolled over him, and he wondered if he'd gone blind. Then a long, sucking, rattling breath sounded to his right. Cold such as he'd never known existed washed over him like a tidal wave, and if he hadn't been down already, he would have fallen.
Dread swept in and Sirius went cold. Where was Peter? If he wasn't here, where was he? There was no sign of a struggle, no sign of a quick escape. Nothing was out of place - and yet Peter was gone as though he'd never been...
Sirius landed hard and skidded to a stop in front of the ruined house. He stumbled off, eyes terrified. He didn't even appear to notice Hagrid with his small burden; he just stared at what was left of Lily and James' house in absolute horror. All colour drained from his face. "No!" he moaned, unable to take his eyes off the ruin. "This isn't happening - it can't be - oh god - James - Lily..."
"Pa'foo'!"
Lily lay spread-eagled on the ground, face-up, her eyes wide, her face frozen in terror, and defiance...
Sirius found a pitifully huddled form in the remains of the living room. James lay on his stomach, wand still clenched in his hand. He dropped to his knees beside his friend's limp body, and carefully rolled him over.
The look in his best friend's dead eyes nearly made him scream...
"You killed them!" he shrilled at the top of his lungs. "You killed them! Lily and James, Sirius! How could you? How could you..."
The street exploded in a mass of flame and smoke. Sirius could feel the heat strike him like a physical blow. For a stunned second, he wondered hazily if he'd lost control of the magic, like he used to before he went to Hogwarts - but this was not so. For a small, fat man, Peter moved with startling swiftness. He whipped his wand out from behind his back, and with a neat Severing Charm, sliced off his index finger with a small hiss of pain. And then smoke rolled in front of him and Sirius doubled over, coughing. When he recovered, Peter was gone.
Sirius stared in horror at the devastation on the street as the smoke and flames slowly dissipated, the screaming Muggles, the bodies crumpled lifeless along the whole length of the street. Blood was everywhere, the cement cracked and collapsed right down the middle. The smell of burned flesh hung in the air...
White mists swirled in front of Sirius' eyes. "They're dead...yeh couldn'ta stopped it happ'nin'..." "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?!" "Black gets no trial. His actions firmly establish him as the worst of criminals..." "You killed them!" Voices echoed in his head. He cried out in horror, clutching at his ears in a futile attempt to drive the sound out. Futile, because they were all in his head.
The Dementors had come for him.
Sirius could no longer see. He felt cold, clammy hands wrest him pitilessly to his feet and drag him away. Sirius stumbled over the myriads of rocks, feeling blood trickling down his now-battered legs, and unable to see the least thing. Sirius stumbled along with his warders, because there was no other action he could take. He no longer had a choice.
*~*