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Chapter 2 - Helpless
Night passed into day, and Buffy Summers slept, dreams wrought with fear, hate, anger and pain. She twitched constantly, sometimes crying out in her sleep, until she awoke suddenly, sitting bolt upright and gasping. Her brown eyes were filled with fear as she recounted what had happened. She sat staring blankly staring at the wall, for what felt like five minutes, but was actually hours. Her struggle with sleep had left her exhausted, and remnants of her dreams played through her head, her mother throwing her out, her parent's divorce, her father rejecting her, killing Angel……
For the first time, Buffy was helpless. The tide had swept her up and she was away from everything she knew, everything she had to hold on to and being held under. She thought briefly of her friends back in Sunnydale, Giles, Xander, Willow, Angel, Cordelia, Oz, her mother. What would they think? Would they know where she was, would they come looking for her? Would they know where to look? And Faith, Faith had killed, and her morals had left her faster than she could say 'I don't care.' And because of that Buffy was in here, in prison with thousands of other criminals. Tears overcame her again, and she wept.
Sirius
Black stared down at the girl through the barred window, gazing at her, feeding
off her beauty in a place that lacked it so much. She had not noticed him, had
not seen him watching her, but he had. She had slept, fitfully as they all do,
twitching, screaming about angels and mother and father. He felt for her, he
did as much as he could but eleven long years in the cell had taken away part
of his soul. Still, he kept his sanity, unwilling to give up to the dementors,
holding onto his innocence even if no one else did. He thought about the
outside all the time, wondered whether anyone knew he was innocent, what Remus
was doing, whether he knew that Sirius was not the monster everyone thought he
was. And Harry, he wondered what Harry looked like, if he looked like James,
and had the same spirit and courage.
But this was futile, and Sirius knew it. He was a prisoner of Azkaban Prison,
the most feared place in the Wizarding world. And he was never leaving, he
would never see Remus or Harry, never taste freedom, until he died and his soul
could finally be released from the shell which imprisoned it.
He often
wondered what it would be like to let go, to give in to insanity, to become
like the man on his left, so caught up in his misery that he world disappeared
and all that was left was thoughts, and imaginings. But he couldn't. He had to
hope, had to hold onto something, he was too strong to let go. After all he had
a godson, and he alone knew that things were not as they appeared, and that
everyday Harry was in danger. He owed that to Lily and James, owed them for
everything they had done for him, and what he had let happen in return.
Sirius turned his head sharply and moved away from the window when he heard the
clanking of the heavy iron door being opened at the far end of the corridor. He
moved to the bars again, and held onto them, peering down the hall to see who
was coming. A lone figured walked down the hall, as fast as he could go without
breaking into a run. He moved close top the wall, putting as much distance
between him and the cells as he could. Some of the prisoners yelled at him,
ranting nonsense, whereas others were too lost in their madness to notice
anything that went on around them. As the man came closer, Sirius saw that it
was the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. He had seen the man only twice in
his life, when he was arrested after Pettigrew had framed him, when Fudge had
been Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes, and then years
later, when Fudge had inspected the prison. Fudge glanced at Sirius briefly as
he passed his cell, and Sirius stared back at him through dark sunken eyes.
Fudge passed, and then stopped, in front of the blonde girl's cell, removing his hat. Sirius crept up to the window and watched the girl again as Fudge addressed her.
"Miss Summers," he said in a voice devoid of
emotion. "You have been imprisoned here, in Azkaban Prison, by the request of
the Watchers Council. Your crime is murder of an innocent, and your sentence is
yet undetermined."
"But I didn't do it," the girl said,
leaping to her feet, and rushing forward to the bars, from which Fudge jumped
back.
"It wasn't
me," the girl insisted. "Faith, it was Faith, she killed him. And she framed
me, you have to stop her, she could be hurting someone else."
"I'm afraid it's too late for excuses,"
Fudge said, a slight tremor in his voice that Sirius noticed. "Your
fingerprints were found at the scene, and Mr. Travers has told us about your
character, of what you are capable of. He does not think it wise to allow you
to roam free, now it is clear what your agenda is."
"It wasn't me," the girl hissed, so
confirmedly that even Sirius began to doubt her guilt. "What is this place,
what are you doing to me? There are things in my head, memories and….." Her
voice trailed off miserably.
"This is Azkaban Prison, Miss Summers,"
Fudge said, as if Buffy had already gone insane. "And the effects you are
feeling are due to the guards. They will cause you to relive your worst
memories. They will also drain you of your power eventually, you strength will
not remain." He placed his hat back atop his head, and walked away from the
girl, who stared after him blankly. As he passed Sirius' cell, Sirius reached
out and tapped his arm. Fudge jumped as if he had been cursed, and backed away
from the cell.
"Are you finished with your paper,"
Sirius said in his politest voice, motioning to the Daily Prophet under Fudge's
arm. "I miss doing the crossword." Fudge stared at Sirius for a few moments,
almost disbelievingly and then brusquely threw his paper to Sirius and strode
away.
Sirius
waited til he was sure Fudge was some distance away, and then smoothed out the
paper. He gazed hungrily at the page it was opened top, at the picture that
adorned it. The black and white photo showed a family happily smiling, standing
in front of a pyramid. But it wasn't the family Sirius was entranced by, but
the boy standing at the front. On the boy's shoulder sat a rat, a very familiar
rat, with one toe missing from his front paw.
"It can't be," whispered Sirius
frantically, quickly skimming the article accompanying the photo. "He's at
Hogwarts. With Harry." As the knowledge dawned on him, it turned to anger then
fear. "He's at Hogwarts," he repeated.
Casting the paper aside, Sirius strode the cell. After a few lengths of it, hew
transformed into his animagus form, a dog and continued to pace. As if testing
it, he moved towards the bars and attempted to push through them. He wasn't
quite able to fit, but it wouldn't be long. Muttering to himself, Sirius
transformed back and continued to pace, stopping only when he heard noise from
next door.
Curiously, he looked up towards his
barred window, and saw a face there, the girl's face watching him with a
mixture of apprehension and defiance on her face.
"What are you?" she said.
