Disclaimer: Although I spend entirely too much time *obsessing* about Harry Potter, he's not mine. I'd like to say I'd treat him better, but considering what type of story this is (Angst), I think it's safe to say *that* isn't happening, either. Alas…
Author's Note: To all of you who reviewed disagreeing with what age I estimated Lucius to be… I've always envisioned him to be somewhat of a contemporary of Snape rather than Arthur. I felt the animosity between Arthur and Lucius stemmed from Lucius' escaping justice during the original Death Eater trials. That, and the fact that he's remained a prominent citizen who wields considerable political weight within the Wizarding community. So, while there were some very well thought out arguments to the contrary which I thoroughly enjoyed (Thank you very much!), for this story Lucius is not Arthur's age.
Oh, and I would like to humbly request that *before* you review this chapter, read the Author's Note at the bottom as well! g
Chapter 35
Sirius kept his eyes closed as he breathed the ocean air deeply.
"Are you sure, Sirius? We've been out here for over an hour now," Remus asked, his voice just barely audible over the straining whine of the little motorboat they'd procured and the waves that crashed against the sides, buffeting them about. Sirius nodded.
How do I explain it so that it makes sense? That I can smell Azkaban; the pain, the madness; even in my human form... Well, actually Moony *might* know. Sirius shook his head distractedly. "I'm positive. Trust me when I tell you, we're close," Sirius said, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. I'm coming, Harry. We're coming.
"It's going to rain soon. Charm your robes now," Remus instructed. Sirius opened his eyes to look at his friend. He looks tired. His normally pale face was gray with fatigue and worry, his eyes solemn as unexpressed concerns and fears remained a tangible entity between them, unspoken but understood. Is he alive? Will he be sane? Are we in time? Have the Dementors already been turned? Is Voldemort already there? Sirius charmed his robes obediently, well aware of Remus' remarkable ability to sense weather changes, just as he could tell unerringly what time of the day it was without needing to use the sun or how far away the full moon was. Will you know me, Harry?
Sirius knew Remus was watching him with concern as he once again closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, raising his arm and pointing slightly to the right. He'd charmed his stubble off after a quick glance at his reflection in the water as he'd stepped into the skiff, illuminated by the dock lighting, but knew he still looked a mess. Remus adjusted the course of the boat, familiar now with their unusual mode of navigation. Sirius' robes were stiff with salt water, dried by the charms that would now protect him from the sudden drizzle of rain.
Thankfully, the stormy sea calmed a little as the front drifted past them, settling into a thick misty rain that reduced visibility (not that there was much anyway in the predawn grey) and shrouded the skiff, muffling the whine of the motor.
Moony was remarkably adept at handling the small boat, comfortable with its operation. You've been busy while I was away. Evidently, he was quite proficient at moving around in the Muggle world, as also evidenced with the ease in which he found where the nearest docks were and in acquiring coastal charts and maps.
To Sirius the engine sounded as if at any moment it was going to explode, but Remus had repeatedly assured him it would not. As far as Muggle machinery went, Sirius was more accustomed to the rumble of a motorcycle; the low growl of power. The frantic, high pitched source of locomotion that propelled them along made him shift the oars inside the boat nervously, hooking them underneath the seat securely, confident they would be using them anytime now.
The faintest, subtlest tingle of magic heralded the cut of the motor, the sudden silence eerie in its finality. Remus turned and began pulling on a cord, rocking the boat unnervingly as he did so, trying to start the engine again, but Sirius was already pulling out the oars.
"Don't bother, Moony. We've already passed the anti-Muggle charms. This is the last barrier. Nothing Muggle-made will work beyond this point. We'll have to row quickly. The currents here are strong enough that stranded boats drift out of range of the island in a matter of minutes," Sirius said, setting the oars into the small metal holders on either side and bracing his feet as he pulled fiercely, ignoring the sting of salt on hands (paws) raw from brutal travel, gratified as the boat surged forward.
"Sirius…"
A memory long buried had resurfaced as they'd approached the island which had reminded him about the anti-Muggle wards. He'd remembered a day in Azkaban when an echo of voices reflected off the rugged shores and into his tiny cell. Not screams or sobs… It was a casual conversation. Stranded Muggles, not yet concerned about their plight, joking with false bravado as they struggled to restart their motorboat. It took so little time for them to drift past, with only the sound of the motor burbling back to life as proof that the currents had carried them beyond the magical barriers.
He'd only heard it once, in his Animagus form… The briefest, most beautiful connection to the outside world Azkaban would ever provide. No. That's not true. The Daily Prophet photo of the Weasley family was *that*. He couldn't laugh as Padfoot, but he could howl, and for a few precious hours his mind was able to drift away with the hapless Muggles, his imagination following them as they returned to shore, returned to their mundane lives, until the Dementors took even that away…
"Are you listening?…"
He could smell it plainly now. Death. Insanity. Terror. Grief. Loss. Desperation. Failure. We're close. Sirius wondered as he allowed his senses once again to shift the boat's direction (That's it. Slightly more to the right). He began to pant for breath, his back and shoulders burning with a fatigue that threatened to overwhelm him at any moment. He knew he'd been going on pure adrenaline for quite a while now, but he also knew it would carry him through. It has to.
"Padfoot, look at me…"
Sirius felt a rise of panic when the next gasp of air told him that the island's scent had shifted from the right to the left side of the boat. Merlin, we're passing it already. Too fast. The current's too fast, Sirius thought desperately as he tried to pick up the pace.
"Sirius, let me," Moony said, and placed his hand over Sirius' own, ceasing Sirius' rowing, gently pulling his cramped fingers from the oars, his eyes dark with worry. Of course. Sirius immediately released the oars and moved out of the way, placing himself at the back of the skiff where Remus had originally been sitting, feeling foolish. When did he move forward from the back of the boat? Focus. I should have had him rowing to begin with. Dumb, Sirius. Think.
The boat's sudden onrush of speed startled Sirius as Moony began rowing. Sirius was so accustomed to Remus' gentle nature that he often forgot the enhanced werewolf strength that the man possessed. Glancing down at his hands, Sirius noticed that his palms were bleeding again, the cracks that Moony had just recently healed now split open, red welts against filthy skin. Not a good sign. And nothing he could afford. At least not my wand hand. The next whiff told Sirius that the island was once again on the right side of the boat, and Sirius felt the panic that had threatened to overwhelm him quell. He wiped his hands on his robes, comforted by the warmth the fabric radiated, then ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the wet strands off his face. Better.
It felt good to be finally going after Harry directly. I should have done it to start with. It was naïve of Harry to think his testimony would help, and ridiculous of Sirius to take up the quest to capture Peter when Harry's approach failed. Damn Dumbledore anyway. Sirius knew why he'd done it, even if it *was* foolish in retrospect. It was the hatred which drove him; the obsession that had returned full-blown once Harry was arrested. Pettigrew. This is all Peter's doing. Even if he'd procured the damned rat and produced him for the world to see, Fudge would still have found away to condemn him… and Harry.
Please be alive, Harry. Don't let me be too late. It was more of a mantra than a prayer. Sirius didn't have much faith in Dumbledore anymore. How could you? Why did you even give him the choice? For that's what he'd done. Sirius had had *lots* of time to reflect about it, and certain things hadn't added up. It was the talk. After Harry's birthday. Dumbledore had given Harry a portkey… and a choice, then. Sirius well remembered how shaken Harry was after their private conversation. Merlin. He just turned fifteen! You couldn't even let him have one day of peace. Sirius felt his lip curl in rage.
"How much further?" Remus interrupted Sirius' thoughts. Deliberately. "You're growling again." Ah.
"Not more than a few minutes," Sirius replied, his voice hushed. The waves had gotten progressively smaller as the skiff drew closer to shore. A large cluster of rocks in the distance, treacherous to larger ships, acted as breakers for the biggest swells, protecting the island from the harshest gales.
"Do you know where he is?" Remus asked softly, taking Sirius' cue to speak quietly.
"Yes," Sirius replied. "He's near where I was held," It will take longer to find him if they moved him. Time we can ill afford. Let him still be there. Remus raised an eyebrow inquisitively, but remained silent.
"We should have gotten him earlier," Sirius said, his voice flat. Remus' eyes looked at Sirius sharply. Then, reluctantly, he nodded.
"I think you're right. *He* should never have been used as a distraction," Remus stated, and Sirius abruptly realized that Remus wasn't referring to Fudge's actions against Harry… he meant Dumbledore. Moony had explained in detail all he'd been able to glean of the coordinated attacks against the Ministry that Arthur Weasley was currently orchestrating.
"If we get him…" Sirius began.
"*When* we get him…" Remus interrupted.
"I'm never letting him out of my sight. He's not going anywhere *near* Hogwarts…"
"That might be a touch extreme. What about Ron and Hermione? Besides, you can't turn him into a hermit…" Remus said.
"Bah. They can visit. He doesn't like the fame anyway…" Sirius stated.
"…just because you are…" Remus finished.
"Besides, you're a professor. What you can't teach him, others we know can," Sirius announced with certainty, as if the plan were already in place.
"Sirius… If he were in our care, even at Hogwarts, he wouldn't be in the danger he has been in," Remus replied, saying aloud the truth they both knew. It was the truth that, once Sirius had realized it, left him breathless with shock and disappointment.
If Harry *had* proper guardians in his life… If James and Lily had been alive, they would have never allowed him to be in danger. Choice? Wouldn't have happened. Broken bones from Quidditch was one thing… Voldemort another entirely. Merlin, after first year alone they probably would have homeschooled him.
While some of what Harry had faced at Hogwarts could not have been prevented, some of it *could* have. Left as it was, with the Dursleys as guardians, ergo Dumbledore as the primary caregiver, Harry's life was in the hands of a man who was looking out for the best interests of the wizarding community… Not Harry's.
Sirius forced himself not to think about Harry those last few days at the Burrow, and how much worse he must look now. Instead, he distracted himself with speculating what the spell was Remus had explained to him about that connected Snape to Harry. Then again… maybe that's not much better.
Remus paused a moment to reach his hand back to massage the back of his neck wearily, obviously trying to stave off a headache before he resumed rowing again. He looks so tired. He looks old. We both do. I don't want him to see this. I wish I could get Harry on my own.
"There's some Pepper-Up in the satchel at your feet," Remus said. "Why don't you pull out a couple?" Sirius scowled as he leaned over and fished through the bag, finding the vials easily.
"Just what are you insinuating, Moony? That I need two?" Sirius growled grumpily. Remus raised an eyebrow ironically.
"No… That we both need one. Although there's another in the bag if you think you need more," he answered. Sirius squinted in annoyance as he downed the draft and handed a vial to Moony.
"He's young and resilient, Sirius. He's so much stronger than we could have ever hoped for," Remus said reassuringly with steam still faintly coming out of his ears as he set aside the vial and resumed rowing again. But Sirius could also see the lurking fear in Moony's eyes, and knew that privately they shared the same fears. So long alone. Too long. He's been here for weeks…
"I need him," Sirius stated, unable to express properly the growing hole in his heart that was threatening to consume him completely if he couldn't save Harry. He could no longer imagine a world without Harry in it. He shook his head and sighed. He doubted he'd make it without him. It was that simple.
"I do, too," Moony replied, his eyes shadowed as he looked at Sirius, perhaps implying something more, then jumped at the scratching sound of wood on rocks as he ran the skiff aground. Remus shook his head and smiled grimly, darkly amused at his own nerves.
"Right then," Sirius said and whipped out the wand Remus had given him. "I told you I knew how to get here," Sirius joked softly and forced his muscles not to quiver at the memory of cold sweeping over him. He had to pause a moment to collect himself as a whole range of emotions ran from his heart to his throat, nearly overwhelming him, until he squashed them away, a Pandora's box of memories that refused to remain faded much longer. Later.
"Sirius…" Remus whispered. Sirius frowned.
"What is it?"
"If… if we get overwhelmed, and the Dementors swarm us…" he said hesitantly.
"Moony…" Sirius started to say. Remus raised a hand to forestall Sirius' sentence.
"I just… Don't do anything stupid. Once you get him safe, don't you dare come back for me. I mean for him to have you in his life," Moony stated with absolute certainty. Moony, if it comes to that, once he's safe, there's no way I'm leaving you behind. You're *both* family. But I'll let your delusions linger for now. Sirius didn't say anything, instead letting his scowl be his response. It was lost on Remus though, as he stepped out of the boat.
The island was deathly quiet, the gentle lapping of waves onto the rocky shore muffled by fog. Sirius cringed as Remus pulled the boat slightly higher onto the rocky beach, insuring the current wouldn't carry it away in case they needed it for escape, the scraping sound conspicuous in the overwhelming silence. They stalked along the shoreline without speaking, Remus taking his cues from Sirius.
Relax. You know Dementors can't hear in the technical sense of the word. The wards and barriers are in place, so I don't think Voldemort has arrived. Sirius' gait was steady and confident on the uneven rocks, despite the slippery moss. Even if he wasn't in great shape, his coordination had greatly improved since he'd initially traveled this way.
His muscles had atrophied horribly in Azkaban, to the point that Sirius had been concerned that he'd never be able to handle anything strenuous again. The escape had nearly killed him. By the time the current had carried his Animagus form out of range of the magical barriers, Sirius was already starting to flounder. Only a nearby piece of driftwood had saved his life.
I'd given up, you see, Sirius knew now as he moved easily in the gray twilight of dawn. It was something Remus had never asked about, but lately Sirius had seen the question in his eyes. I didn't bother to try to exercise. I hardly ate. That's why my body's in such a sorry state. I sat in my cell and waited. Waited to die, waited to watch my failures again, waited…
When Sirius first arrived to Azkaban he was in such a bad way he didn't even remember he *was* an Animagus. Only many years into his stay, overwhelmed by chills from a fever, did he inadvertently change. And it was such a relief… The warm fur helped body and soul somewhat, and the canine form buffered what the Dementors were able to absorb… But I didn't want to do it. I felt *better*. How could I feel better when James and Lily were dead?
I could have escaped at any time after that. That's your unspoken question, isn't it, Moony? Thank you for not asking. But it *was* my fault, and I deserved what I'd got. The night terrors he had were getting worse. The Dementors had only brought forward the most emotionally painful moments… His life in Azkaban had nearly been as foggy and muted as his time at Hogwarts. Until now.
Memories were coming back. Cold, dark days when the screams had nearly become too much. When pounding his head against the walls allowed a moment's peace as dizziness engulfed him, and changed the screams to distant buzzing. It wasn't exactly that I'd *retained* my sanity here. I realize that now, although if you'd have asked me even a couple of weeks ago, I still thought I had. I regained it, slowly.
Loss and loneliness had overwhelmed him from the time they'd first brought him to the island, and Sirius had descended into dark places within his mind, places that still made him wake up screaming. I wish I *didn't* remember. But some absurdly determined part of him had whispered words into his dreams every once in a while. You didn't do it, the voice would remind him. It wasn't your fault. You thought you were clever. That's not a crime, is it? Sirius would wake up confused and bewildered; sometimes even calling out his friends' names, as if he were still in Gryffindor Tower and Azkaban was just a horrific dream.
In retrospect, Sirius came to realize that *that* little voice was what guided him back to sanity. And in trying to analyze just *what* that voice was, that kept him from sliding into irretrievable madness, he couldn't truthfully say. What claim did innocence have on the right to struggle to live? To try to think coherently? What was the point? You never know, the voice whispered conspiratorially. Best to be ready now, it told him. Ready for what? Sirius couldn't even fathom *what* he was waiting for, but the fact that he should be ready for something helped to clear his mind and kept him from taking that last, irrevocable step towards giving up completely.
There he had hovered for years, wavering weekly between sanity and madness, waiting for *it*. And *it* arrived. A reason to escape. The photo of a pathetic, contented, mangy rat minus one digit, on vacation in Egypt with a family that was also known to have a son who was best friends with The Boy Who Lived.
The memories of Peter's last words before he disappeared; the look on his face of grim desperation and nauseous horror; was so clearly burnt into Sirius' mind that the moment the opportunity presented itself, the choice was clear. He would leave Azkaban and hunt Peter down or die trying. No more doubts or regrets. If it was the *last* thing he ever did, he'd watch the life fade from his former best friend's eyes as he throttled his neck. Although a broken neck would have sufficed, too.
Sirius had been so far gone, consumed by his own burning hatred that it hadn't even *occurred* to him to try to prove his innocence. If he'd caught Peter in those first few days, he'd likely have killed him instantly and left his remains for the worms. Heh.
But the moment never presented itself. After a while, discouraged by his lack of success, he'd decided he wanted to take a peek at the boy Harry had grown into. He'd stayed outside the wards Dumbledore undoubtedly had placed around the house he remembered the Dursleys had moved to last, hoping to catch a glimpse of Harry in the front yard.
Instead, he'd seen a lost, frantic, upset thirteen year old boy dragging all his worldly possessions, obviously clear in where he *didn't* want to be, but clueless about where to go from there. Sirius had almost approached him, right then and there. He certainly wasn't about to let Harry wander around town by himself, unprotected. Instead, Harry had accidentally summoned the Knight Bus, and the opportunity slipped past.
But another chance came about to set the records straight with Harry. As much as he wanted Pettigrew dead, he also realized that Harry deserved to know the truth. He'd watched Harry long enough to know he'd chase after Ron rather than going for help. Gryffindors, the lot of us. Is there something wrong with that? Huh. Ask a Ravenclaw.
Ironically enough, it was Harry's own bitter pain, etched in his face as he tried to screw up the courage to kill Sirius, back when he'd thought Sirius had betrayed his parents, that brought Sirius snapping back full force into reality. It was one of the few times he'd ever seen Harry completely unguarded, and the range of emotions that had swept across his face connected him to Sirius in ways he'd never dreamt. He'd realized it would be just his luck to get killed right on the *verge* of revealing Peter.
Since that night, the very same night he'd asked Harry to live with him, something in him was silenced. Instead of the ever present whisper in the back of his mind to: Kill Peter, avenge James and Lily, cease the echoes of Harry's cries for a mother that will never come for him again, it had changed. That's my godson. Look at him, trying so hard, so lost. Help him. The need was almost primal now. Help him. Please let me not be too late.
As Sirius approached the bedrock base upon which the prison itself rested, he could feel his teeth chatter. His fingers clutching the wand Remus had given him felt disturbingly numb. A hand rested briefly on his shoulder telling him Remus had noticed. Sirius tensed at the touch, then nodded once, acknowledging it. He turned to his left and began to scramble down a decline of larger boulders at the foot of the cliffs that held Azkaban.
A brief tap on his shoulder expressed Remus' confusion. Why are we going this way? Remus was asking. Azkaban's *that* way. Sirius raised one finger in the air. Wait. You'll see.
The faintest echo announced the tiny cavern, a small shadow barely visible to the naked eye a few meters below them. Sirius dropped down into it with a faint splash. Remus agilely followed. It was a rusted drainage pipe, corroded by salt and time. The latticework of metal bars at the entrance was still in place, but pulled easily in Sirius' hands; the metal corroded and covered with sharp barnacles. The expression on Remus' face told Sirius he'd realized that this was how he had escaped before.
"No one can hear us down here," Sirius stated in a normal voice, startling Moony.
"This is it, isn't it?" Remus asked, his voice awed. Sirius nodded.
Sirius was profoundly grateful he'd thought to put the grate back when he'd originally fled the island. He hadn't been concerned at the time that the whole place would be scrutinized, trying to determine how he'd slipped away at mealtime. I wonder what they got from the Dementors? If he'd left the circular grate off to the side, the Ministry might have found it and resealed the entrance. As it was, the forgotten drainpipe was simple and easy egress into the prison. Again.
"It's low tide," Moony observed as Sirius took the lead.
"Good thing. It's an unpleasant swim," Sirius observed. He didn't look back at his friend's expression, although he suspected he knew what it was.
"Was this the only way?" Remus asked, his voice oddly hesitant.
"I couldn't walk through the front door, now, could I?" Sirius tried to joke, although he nearly had… Slipping between the bars as an emaciated Animagus was a rather handy trick… as he lit up his wand and headed deeper into to pipes. His tone didn't match his words.
"I've never been here before," Moony said softly. I know. "I was almost afraid to imagine what it would be like," he said, startling Sirius. We really don't want to talk about this now, do we?
"Home sweet home," Sirius said to drive the point home. He *really* didn't want to talk about it. Remus flinched.
"Is it far?" he asked, changing topics. Sirius shook his head.
"It's not too bad. It's a bit of a climb, though, to get to the upper sewer pipes. And it's not going to smell pretty," he promised. Remus didn't say anything in reply.
They traveled through multiple levels of sewer pipes, eventually squeezing through a narrow floor drain and into a musty storage closet. Sirius muttered a cleaning spell for the both of them.
"Won't they detect magic?" Remus whispered in alarm, although he sighed in relief as the stench of raw sewage was removed from his robes and shoes.
"No. We're down where the House Elf quarters are," Sirius whispered in reply. They needn't have worried about scrutiny. It was getting towards breakfast time, which he briefly explained to Moony once he realized what time it was.
Azkaban hadn't changed at all. The rock walls still glistened with moisture and algae. They stepped through the occasional mossy rivulet where rainwater had been draining for decades, its path etched into the stone. The cobblestone floors were uneven and loudly echoed their footsteps until Remus placed Silencing Charms on their boots. The dank, oppressive darkness, the distant whispers and sobs, and the prevalent smell of rotting flesh (not fish) made it hard for Sirius to breath. Three cells down from your old home, Snape had said. Be alive, Harry. We're almost there.
Sirius was so chilled already he almost missed the first warning signs. Only the faint echoes of his own screams in the Shrieking Shack, as he'd realized Harry wasn't coming, alerted him that a Dementor was nearby. Moony's eyes widened as Sirius snuffed his wand light, pushing Remus roughly against the corridor wall. He didn't have time to think or react, but he could sense that they'd almost been noticed. How many? I can't tell. Just one, I think. They must sense Remus. Okay. Sirius placed his wand against Remus' temple.
"Stupify," he said softly, and shifted to Padfoot, trying his best to cushion Remus as he crumpled to the ground, the soft thud letting him know he'd only been partially successful in doing so. Ouch. Sorry about that. He shivered, waiting for the faintest shift of fabric and a subtle return of warmth to the air to herald the Dementors' passing. Roll call. He'd forgotten that roll call took longer than rounds. Each morning the Dementors went from cell to cell, accounting for the inmates. It was excuse to get close to each prisoner. It happened right before breakfast gruel was served. They weren't gone, yet. Careless. I nearly got Moony caught.
Only when Sirius was certain that no more Dementors were coming did he dare to shift to human form. "Ennervate," he said and jumped back as Remus had his wand out and ready instantly. "Lumos," Sirius said, and tried to appear meek and harmless. It was certainly easy to look timid in the face of Remus' wrath. His face was tense and his eyes blazed with rage.
"Tell me one good reason why you did that," Remus said in a calm, sinister voice.
"Stupify is the only spell I know of that takes away anything for the Dementors to feed on. Well, a Dreamless Sleep potion would have worked as well, but… never mind," Sirius said, catching himself before he launched into a lengthy explanation. He was babbling a little. "They'd sensed you, Moony. I couldn't risk detection this early. Padfoot's emotions are so vague and unspecific that the Dementors typically dismiss me. Not so with you," he explained soothingly. Remus wasn't impressed.
"You could have warned me!" he snarled, as Sirius once again headed towards the wing which held his old cell. Sirius shrugged.
"You've had a hard life, Remus. There's no question of that. But how important to you are your memories of Hogwarts, of your friends, of the pranks we used to pull as the Marauders? I think you above us all cherished those moments, even at the time, because being a werewolf *is* so rough on you. What do you think friendship means to most of the prisoners here? The most recent meal for the Dementors is Harry, and you know what his childhood was like. I'm amazed he could make a Patronus, frankly. He's had so little positive in his life, and…" Sirius had to stop, running a hand over his face to collect himself. So close. Almost there, Harry. He was trying to make a point, not cry.
"What I'm trying to say is that if Harry's a meal, you're a smorgasbord. I've never figured out how the Dementors communicate, but trust me when I tell you if one sensed you, many more would have followed," Sirius explained as he turned a corner, and began to stride quickly forward.
He'd tried to time their prison break-in perfectly. In the pre-dawn hours was the only time of day when the 'stars aligned', so to speak. The House Elves were busy, the Dementors retreated to Merlin knows where, and the prisoners were too stunned to be aware of their surroundings.
Sirius well remembered the last time he escaped. Some of the inmates had noticed him as he weakly walked the corridors, taking more steps than he had in years. Some shrieked after him, incorporating him into their nightmarish visions, while others begged him to take them with him, to save them… He'd nearly stirred the prison into a frenzy, but the distraction had proven useful in the end. All that emotion kept the Dementors distracted for hours, time Sirius had needed to figure out how to escape.
But he'd forgotten that roll-call took longer than their normal rounds. How could I have forgotten a detail like that? Each morning they used to enter his cell and kneel beside him, breathing in his joy, caressing his face tenderly, trying to coax him to madness… Their faces… Sirius shook himself, hard. Now's not the time for this. So your timing was off a little. We managed.
They were entering the mid-levels of the prison itself. Thankfully, it was still early enough, and most of the prisoners were either unconscious or still trying to recover from roll call. Scrawny, haggard bodies were either buried underneath the thin sheets, desperately trying to stave off the Dementors' chill, or huddled into corners, rocking, as whimpers punctuated the stillness of dawn.
Azkaban itself was built into the stone island, burrowing down so that only the top most cells were even visible to the naked eye from the shore. Each cell had a small hole up near the ceiling that allowed for air circulation. Rain frequently blew in with the harsher winter storms keeping the cells cold and dank.
It was rare indeed for the sun to be out long enough to allow a tiny beam of light to stream through the hole in Sirius' old cell. It only happened at sunset a few times a year, and only lasted for a few minutes before the sun would dip into the ocean. Sirius had waited each day for that, wishing the clouds and fog away, wanting just a glimpse of warmth and light reflected on his hand as he desperately reached above his head to try to touch it.
He could hear Remus' sharp intake of breath as they passed men and women, eyes blind to everything but their own inner demons. Ironically, the cries weren't nearly as bad in these exterior cells. Azkaban's prisoners were held according to their sentence. The top most (and brightest) cells contained those who only had a short term to serve. Any time reporters came to the island, *these* were the prisoners they were allowed to visit.
It was impossible to misbehave around Dementors. The more you raged, the more they could tap into you. If you were fighting, it meant you still had hopes for something better. But that didn't mean there wasn't a punishment and rewards system in place. There was. But it wasn't enforced by the Dementors, at least not on purpose. Punishment was doled out by the Ministry.
Typically, this happened when inmates complained about inhumane conditions to the outside world, or when family members of a loved one who'd been imprisoned tried to fight for a better living environment or more privileges. As a general rule, those who'd complained (or who were listened to at any rate) were only serving a few months or years. In retaliation, the Ministry reassigned their cells to the 'Lifers' wing. The deeper within the stone cliffs a man traveled to get to his cell, the longer his time. The House Elves quarters, Sirius had discovered, was just higher than where the 'Lifers' resided. Where Sirius' cell was.
The acoustics of Azkaban seemed almost designed as one giant sound amplifier. All the rock surfaces echoed voices with ease, collecting up the maelstrom of jarring and discordant sound and sweeping it downwards, through the corridors, to echo hollowly within the lowest chambers, where the 'Lifers' were held. The voices of the damned. When it stormed, the wind and pounding surf added to the cacophony. Sometimes I'd almost thought it sounded beautiful, Sirius remembered, and shivered. I could have done without that memory. The greatest irony of Azkaban was that, if an inmates' own experiences didn't drive them mad, others would.
Most 'reassigned' inmates broke within several months. Sirius had watched many such wizards and witches come and go. He'd listened as one after another lost their grip with reality. This is where they'd assigned Harry.
Remus remained thankfully silent as they traveled downward, and Sirius resisted the impulse to turn around and try to explain that it wasn't as bad as it looked. It was, of course. It was worse. But for some unexplained reason, he felt embarrassed and ashamed that Remus would see this place and what his life had been for over a decade.
For one desperate moment he even considered a Memory Charm, although of course he'd never use it on Moony. His skin burned, as if the lesions and lice were still present under his robes. His joints ached from the cold, and he found himself tucking his hands underneath his armpits for warmth, even though his clothing was charmed.
"Breathe, Sirius," Remus whispered, barely audible, breaking up Sirius' thoughts and startling him. He jumped. I'm fine. I'm calm. Why did he say that, anyway? Sometimes it seemed as if Moony could read his thoughts. Surely he can't though, right? I wasn't serious about the Memory Charm, he added, just in case.
"What?" Sirius whispered aloud with difficulty. He *was* finding it a bit hard to take deep breaths.
"I can hear you hyperventilating," Moony replied, struggling to add lightness to his voice. Sirius increased his pace, his blood pounding in his ears as he hurried forward, his concern for Harry keeping his own inner demons silent for the most part. For now. Each step seemed to press against his skin, the pressure building until it seemed almost unendurable.
By the time they entered the lowest levels, Sirius was shaking in earnest. His heart fluttered in his chest, and he felt oddly light-headed. It was still relatively peaceful, considering the time. Quiet enough, at least, to hear as water spilt into puddles on the floor. The voices within the walls weren't quite calling out names and begging for forgiveness yet. Yet.
Sirius paused at his old cell, looking right and left, giving just a cursory glance to note it remained exactly as it had when he'd escaped, save the cell door hung partially open. Three cells from his… Which way?
"Harry?" he asked hesitantly. Right. Try right first, he thought and quickly counted three cells, using his wand to illuminate the corners and bed. Unoccupied. Moony, froze in place for a moment as he'd stared into Sirius' old cell; at the lines scratched into stone that had counted the days for years, before he'd finally given up trying to guess how long it had been. The sliver of mattress was stripped, leaving the cell as impersonal and desolate as when he'd lived there, with only the faintest of stains on the rocks where he'd banged his head on occasion. Biting his lip, Remus tore his eyes away, studiously not looking Sirius' way, for which Sirius was grateful. He felt raw.
"Can you see him?" Moony whispered, his voice quivering and thick with emotion.
"No," Sirius replied.
"Here, you morons," a whisper of a voice called from the darkness. Three cells *left* of Sirius', then. Although the voice rattled hollowly and barely had tone at all, Sirius knew it was Harry's voice. He tore inside the cell as Remus opened the door with his wand.
"Harry! Snape, where's Harry? How is he? Is he okay?" Sirius asked as he kneeled beside the bed, pulling Harry's face toward him. Unfocused, dull green eyes blinked back at him. His skin was a grayish white and filthy. His normally uncontrollable hair hung flat against his skull, greasy and matted. Between the hair and the sneer, Sirius had to repress a shudder as Snape manifested himself all too physically within Harry's skin.
"Do you mind?" Harry's voice scratched in annoyance, and immediately both Remus and Sirius dimmed their wands to a faint glow. Harry coughed weakly, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. Sirius' eyes widened in horror while Moony dabbed the blood away tenderly with the hem of his robe.
Harry's skin was pulled taut over bone, his cheekbones jutted, hollowing out into faint shadows above his jaw. There appeared to be no meat left on him, anywhere. His head appeared too large for his body, misproportioned. Dark purplish bruises shadowed beneath each eye and his lips were tinged blue. His teeth gleamed red with blood as he struggled to breathe.
Remus jumped into action first, gathering up the thin blanket that Harry was underneath and wrapping it around him more securely.
"Good. The blanket's charmed," Remus murmured in approval, then kneeled beside him. "Severus, what is Harry's condition?" he asked. Sirius could only stare as Harry remained slack within the blankets, his head lolling from side to side. Only his eyes, squinting as Snape tried to track both Sirius and Moony's movements, gave any indication that Harry was even still alive.
"Not good. What took you so long? Should I have drawn you a map?" Snape growled before coughing weakly again. Remus propped him gently up a bit, which seemed to ease his breathing.
"Will we hurt him by carrying him?" Sirius asked, horrified at the state Harry was in, although he'd tried to prepare himself for it. As for Snape's sarcasm... The man was insufferable, even half-dead. Don't think that!
Snape shook Harry's head faintly. Remus nodded in satisfaction and gathered up Harry carefully in his arms.
"Moony…" Sirius said, hesitating a moment. Remus paused. "Let me carry him." Remus frowned.
"No, you're already exhausted. It makes sense that I hold him," Moony argued. Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably, ignoring the mortified look on Harry's face at what Sirius was suggesting.
"Yes, but how's your Patronus these days?" Sirius inquired, and held out his arms, his haunted eyes saying what he'd left unspoken. He doubted he'd be able to do one himself. Remus' eyes widened, but he didn't hesitate as he stepped forward and placed Harry tenderly in Sirius' arms.
"Lovely," Snape croaked hoarsely as they quickly retreated through the lower corridors the way they'd come.
"Have you had contact with Harry?" Moony asked softly as he led the way, wand held at the ready. Prisoners were beginning to take notice that something… living… was passing by their cells.
"No," Harry's voice said weakly. Snape cleared his throat and tried again. "No. Not for a few days now. The only time he's conscious is when he's trapped in a vision, and unfortunately I haven't had the strength to maintain the link." Sirius could hear Snape's own fears reflected in his clinical reply, and realized with a start that one way or another, Snape was the main reason Harry was still alive.
"Wait! Don't leave me! Please don't leave me here!" a voice wailed from the darkness. Remus' grip on his wand tightened and he glanced around in alarm.
"I don't think Dementors hear like we do, Moony. Besides, a little emotion will keep them distracted," Sirius said reassuringly.
"Yes, but Death Eaters do," Snape rasped softly. Sirius scowled. Don't jinx me.
"Cold… It's so cold. Please come back," another voice cried mournfully.
"Is he…" Sirius started to ask Snape quietly after a moment's silence, then couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence. "Is Harry…?" he tried again.
"Nutters? Mental? I don't think so. He's just… got nothing left," Snape replied thoughtfully, the sarcasm missing from his voice, making him sound more like Harry normally did. It hurt. Sirius had wanted so badly to make sure Harry was all right, but couldn't. The same fears remained. Seeing Harry had done nothing to reassure him.
That it had to be *Snape* who helped Harry, who Sirius had to interact with, made it that much harder. Harry's face wasn't meant to contain such bitterness… Isn't it? A voice in the back of Sirius' head asked. Doesn't he have a right to be bitter? Angry? Unjustly imprisoned, falsely accused…
Sirius nearly dropped him in surprise when Snape gasped in pain, his hand abruptly pressing against his forehead (Harry's forehead). Snape shuddered, his breath coming in short pants as his eyes rolled up in his head.
"*That* is not good," Moony said grimly, his eyes wide, and Sirius nodded as in unspoken agreement they began to run. Thank Merlin Snape's unconscious, Sirius thought as he pulled Harry's body close and ran for all he was worth.
They were sprinting through slippery passageways with only the faintest wand light to go by. It was clear by the pain of Harry's scar that Voldemort had arrived. Remus led the way, his natural loping stride carrying him further and further ahead. Sirius hated to lose sight of Moony, but even though Harry was remarkably light, *he* wasn't in the greatest shape. Besides, he tried to reassure himself, trouble will either be in front or behind us. There were no more interconnecting corridors until they were deep within the House Elf wing.
The overwhelming cold that started at the base of the back of his neck and abruptly swept through him was much stronger than it had been before. More than one… Coming from behind…
"Go back, Sirius! We're blocked!" Remus called from ahead, and suddenly Sirius could see that the darkness Moony's wand illuminated seemed to seethe and pulse with the shadows of Dementor's cloaks. They're right in front of him. Remus' light faltered and the faintest glow of white indicated Remus was casting his Patronus.
"Don't get so close, Moony!" Sirius yelled as he tried to reassess their options. What options?! We're trapped. Ironically, no voices echoed in his head as he continued forward to join Remus, better two than one, but his awareness of Harry's shuddering form increased as he approached the melee of shadow and light. Remus was able to distract the Dementors, but his Patronus wasn't strong enough to banish so many.
Remus chanced a brief look at Sirius, then glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening at the Dementors behind them.
"Now's a good time to see if you can do a Patronus," Moony said even as he struggled to cast another one himself.
There are too many, Sirius thought desperately, holding Harry close as he began to consider rushing them, forcing himself physically past them, but now the cumulative affects of Dementors both in front and behind were beginning to take their toll. Harry's gasping breaths filled his ears, and rotting skeletal hands reached to grasp his robes. They know me, he thought wildly. They were trying to grab hold of both his arms and Harry's body. Think of Harry's smile. Remember how he used to laugh? I only heard it a couple of times, but…How about how you felt when he said 'yes' to living with you?
"Expecto Patronum… Expecto Patronum…" Sirius said weakly, still holding Harry close as he saw Remus fall to his knees, his own Patronus' glow dimming with each passing moment.
"No!" Sirius screamed, desperate to keep sight of Moony as the teeming mass of Dementors began to surround him. He surged forward, trying to physically force past them, to get to Moony, shoving them away… But each push was weaker than the last, and soon his muttered, "expecto patronum," was little more than a whisper. He too fell to his knees.
As the last of Moony's Patronus flickered into darkness, and all that remained were decayed, rattling breaths and grasping dead hands, Sirius angled himself so he physically blocked Harry from view, trying to shield him with his body if nothing else.
"No," he whimpered as he tried to cover Harry with his robes. "Leave him alone. Don't touch him…" And then there was nothing.
TBC…
Author's Note: Okay, before you flame me, here's a few commitments: Next chapter is Harry's POV. I'm not going to leave you hanging. Secondly, when writing this chapter, I actually intended another whole scene that went with it, but when I came to this point, it felt like a natural chapter break. Each time I tried to continue, it felt forced and unnatural. Sooooooo… *ducks rotten fruit*. Even my beta warned me! 8-)
For those of you who've wished me well, I truly appreciate both your kind sentiments *and* your patience! My mom's fine, I'm moved, and I'm blissfully happy with an office of my own to write in. This means more time to be able to devote to writing, so hopefully *much* faster chapters! I still have the rather ambitious goal of trying to finish my story before Book 5. Just so you have an idea of the timeline I'm working hard to try to follow.
Responses to reviews:
Shawny Wong (Thanks!), BenJonBroad, Beth Weasley, sara ane, sandtr(*lol*), TeeDee (Probably not… I've got original stuff to work on. I might revisit with little one-shots though if I really start to miss it), Lina (Next chapter is Harry!), rosie, NightSpear (See my response to TeeDee… Thank you very much, though. I'm glad you like it!), Professor Authordude, Lanfear, Ash Black (I know! Yikes! Talk about mixed emotions! I'm dying for the real thing, but desperate to finish my own), Andrea13, Caroline (*G*), LyraAndCassiopia, Tadariada *g*, chrystieluv, animefan (breathe deeply before reviewing this chapter then…), Drunken Muse (Happy Birthday!), gao fei (I know, I know. I reposted that. My bad. g), sk8reagle, lisawescott, Heather, LC (It's only fitting, isn't it? *G* Okay!), Annison Crane, Shades, leaf *heh*, lisa, Lucia Iris Legaia Tanaka (*backs away from the computer cautiously*. Nope.), black panther, Lady Cinnibar (*G* Thank you!), Amy Potter 13, Jordan, Aeryn Alexander (*blushes happily*), FleccaHPFan, Jarvey, Erika, Shitsumon *g*, CiA, sarah (Nope. More Sirius), Green Eyed Knight (Dumbledore does play a role, but not there…), Lei Dumbledore 8-), Julie (I'm glad you do), mcnugget, Liedral, Anoni, Venus4280(G True. Hopefully I make up for that with *this* chapter?), Sakura Blossom, Lamina Court (Glad I've still got you guessing!), Fleur, Shellie (I feel the same way!), Summercloud (Yep. That's what I'm saying), Bridgie (Cheers!), fairy cheese, t.a.g., Laterose, DarkIllusion, Thelvyn, Lady FoxFire, hp lovar (G… Hermione said that to scare Rita, but you're dead on. Hermione's too detail oriented to have let it slide. I do!), Ooshii Kurai, Robin *blushes*, ICE, momma-dar *kicks the floor happily at the kind sentiments*, SakuraPotter, Tempest In Blue, stayblue, Toffee (I'll try, but can't guarantee anything), Deerose91, Liara *g*, Perfection Unattainable *hehehehe*, Ali Kat Kelts, Ditto2001, AtheneLupin *g*, Elbereth94, luv-jinxy (Peter was grandfathered before the spell. As for Snape…), sara*magic, Lilas (Not everyone agreed, though. Thanks for seeing it my way, though! g), Rhiain (maybe 5), The Hanged Man (I'll try!), CinnamonGold, Miranda Wecker (Next chapter should be sooner, too), x-woman, Huushiita g, Pyro, Padfoot, Angel of Faith (Good luck!), Dark Disciple, Katani Petitedra, me of course, Mikee *g*, Blade McKay, TraLaLa *g*, Kyntor (yeah, yeah, yeah… g I'm just too lazy to repost until this story's done!), lylaruis, chrissyann, Insane Pineapple from Naboo *g*: Thank you all for reviewing! I know you're pining for Harry, so hopefully I've helped a bit with this chapter. g
Suisan: Oh, excellent! I know. Ff.net spam is getting worse by the day. It's not the easiest site to find gems simply due to sheer volume… Not that I don't try! g Anyway, thank you very much for the kind review!
Lilahp: Well, I *sort of* gave you Harry this chapter. You get the real deal the next one! Fair enough. Obligatory plot stuff is done, now I'm going back to action.
Alias: An independent variable… I like that! I see your point. I appreciate that very much. I've certainly learned a ton since first beginning this story. Truthfully, I started it on a lark. I had an idea, and decided it might be fun to get a stranger's input. Who knew? *heh* Plotful. Very true. No, I didn't have *everything* plotted at all. I had a point A and a point Q, and no idea how to get there in between. 8-) I *definitely* try to make sure that I've given ample justification for each step I take now, as *that* is the one thing I absolutely *loathe* in any story I read. What happens has to be believable and logical. If I leave a story feeling like the writer *cheated* and didn't set the stage properly, *I* certainly won't read them again. But I also *did* outline early on. Once I realized this story was going to be more than 50 pages or so. Hehehehe… The power of one sentence… 8-)
Lia Santana: Wow. No, you're expressing yourself perfectly. As for the age thing, sorry if I threw you. Truthfully, it threw *me* that anyone would see it differently. So I can honestly say I know how you feel. 8-) No, your reasoning is legitimate. I just perceived it differently. See Nicky's review for the timeline that *I* had in mind when writing this fic. This is where writing from someone else's work is difficult, because the facts haven't been established and are left up to interpretation without the creator's input. Anyway, I'm thrilled my story evoked the kinds of responses you described. Thank you.
Lothey: Next chapter and the one afterwards I think you'll enjoy. There is one image in particular *I* would love to see drawn, but I'm not there yet. 8-) I'm touched you consider my story inspiration. Thank you.
Sherylyn: Fudge turned into something of a pet project for me. Everything seemed too… Death Eater/Non-Death Eater… But the Harry Potterverse isn't like that. It's got a ton of shades of grey. Hagrid still hasn't gotten his wand back, Remus is an outcast among wizards, Harry is forced to live with emotionally and verbally abusive relatives… Sirius was imprisoned *without* a trial… Heck, *Hagrid* was sent to Azkaban for a little while! The wizarding world is dark even *without* Voldemort. Fudge was my way to emphasis that. Anyway, glad you like it, and recommend away! 8-)
Nicky: Thank you so much for coming to my defense on this one! Believe it or not, I really did sit down and try to place the timeline correctly, but you articulated *why* perfectly. While some *very* legitimate points were made… I feel better that I wasn't so far off the mark myself.
Psychochick: Glad you liked the conspiracy. I was quite nervous about actually, finally tying it all together. Hehehe… That last bit was just too much fun. Karma. Heh.
Bobbi: Glad you liked it. I've hinted at so much for so long, I wanted to make sure it all made sense. For the most part, the verdict appears to be that I succeeded. Go me!
Indigo Ziona: Thank you! I like your analysis of angst… I'm not sure about your last question. We'll see…
Zane Lupin: *giggles* Now *that* is an interesting typo, isn't it? Ah well… I have Harry Potter *way* too much on the brain.
Kat: Legitimate point about adding one sentence. Sorry for the confusion. Glad you like it otherwise.
Koanju: As far as timeline itself goes, please see Nicky's response in the reviews to substantiate my own claim. While not set in stone, it *could* be. Also, in the Author's Note above, I stated that, as Arthur already knew what Lucius was capable of, and knew he had escaped justice, they are naturally opponents. Especially when you consider that as they travel within the same political circles, they've undoubtedly already butted heads on countless occasions. But you were dead on about the Voldemort reference, and I even reposted without the sentence. Thanks for catching that so early (yours was the first review for the chapter), or I would have had a whole bunch of reviews telling me the same thing! I'm sorry if I threw you, and ask that it be okay to agree to disagree on this point.