Disclaimer (I forgot it last time) : Absolutely nothing belongs to me !!!

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Thanks for the reviews !!!

Wilarin : Don't worry, Moony will be OK !

Serrebi : It isn't a one-shot. In fact, there already is 6 chapters in French.

Morgan, Prd2American18, LynnJ : Thank you, I hope you'll like this chapter.

Raphaelle : Merci pour vos encouragements. La version française de l'histoire est sur ce site; l'adresse, c'est : storyid=1630135 .

And a special thank to Japonica.

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2. End and Beginning

He didn't know where he was; in fact he didn't care. Strange how life can change its line in such few time. He could nearly have found it funny. Nearly. If there wouldn't have been five dementors in the corridor, and if this grim joke wouldn't have been his life. Or what remained.

The visions were dancing in his head, becoming darker and darker as the night was passing, as the dementors were making their way in his mind, toward his most horrible thoughts, feeding themselves with his pain. And they had their money's worth: he had got all the despair and horror he could, these last few days. As an old, scratched record, his mind was pausing on some visions: a wasted street; a young, black-haired man's body lying on a carpet; a green-eyed baby's blood and tears stained face. With, as a soundtrack, this sentence, tirelessly repeated, which was at the same time accusation, trial and judgment, " the traitor, Sirius, it is one of us. ".

He heard steps near his cell. With all his strength he tried to cling to the last humanity fragments left to him. But it was vain. There was only darkness left. His conscience flickered. He felt that he lost. Then, it was the fall.

" Expecto patronum."

He opened his eyes. The grip released a part of his mind, giving him back his soul. A spark came back to life. Something was disturbing the dementors. Clac, clac, those steps again. An echo seemed to run on the other side of the door, as in a very long corridor.

"Sirius? Sirius, are you there?"

It took him a time to recognize his own name. Unable to speak, he approaches the door.

"If you're in there, move back, I'll open this door…

Alohomora!"

The heavy door open up slowly, a diffused light slipped into the cell. Even if rather weak, this sudden illumination was painful.

"Are you OK?"

Sirius couldn't properly see the new comer's face, first because every time he tried to stare at something, he could only see two big red spots, and then because that man had something on his head which was hiding a big part of his face.

"Hurry up! The dementors will be back soon, it won't keep them for long …"

At his voice, Sirius could say that the man was very young, a teenager, probably.

"Where are you from?" His own voice seemed curiously hoarse to Sirius, as if someone else was speaking, using his mouth.

"Doesn't matter! There's no time to explain, we have to go."

Unexpectedly, a tiny part of him rebelled. He couldn't allow himself to be taken away just like that! But these last few days' events happened so fast that he couldn't think anymore.

"One moment…" he hesitated, " this could be… a trap?"

"A trap? Hum… Sirius, I wouldn't like to depress you, but… Honestly… I can't see how things could be worse than here."

A point for him, thought Sirius, but, escaping, it would be as if…

"But I am… Innocent!"

" Well, you may be, but there are only three people who know about that, you are the first one, and it won't do you anything good, then, there is Pettigrew, but I don't think he'll come and give a hand…"

At Peter's name, Sirius felt a wave of rage invading his body. The boy seemed to realise it.

"You don't have a choice, we have to go! You really want to spend the rest of your life with dementors?"

And Sirius gave up. He was suddenly emptied of all wishes and fears. Slowly, he went out of his cell.

"And the third one?" he asked, more to say something than by real interest.

"What?"

"You told me three people know I am innocent."

"Oh. The third one, it's me. But it won't be a great help: I don't exist here. Well, I mean, not like that."

And, once again, Sirius decided he didn't want to know.

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He was staring at the fire. He didn't blink a single time. His mind was light, as if empty of all substances; he had the feeling that it could fly away at every moment, taking the pain with it. It would certainly be better, but then, he wouldn't have anything left.

His arms were circling his knees, and he was rocking himself back and forth, gently. His gaze didn't leave the flames; he had had the opportunity to learn that things tend to disappear when you look away from them.

He didn't see the bird at first. He was too engrossed in the fire and in his pain. A gentle cry made him look away from the fireplace. It was an owl, with big amber eyes and pure white feathers. He vaguely asked himself how it had came in, but he didn't have the energy to focus on the subject, and it didn't really matter to him. The owl hooted again, to get his attention, and stuck out its leg, to which a small roll of parchment was tied. With a surprised look at the messenger, he took the letter.

All isn't finished yet, but I'll need your help.

Trust me, please, even if it's hard.

You're not alone. Follow Hedwig, she'll lead you to me.

Hedwig? Again, he looked at the owl, which hooted softly. The letter wasn't signed. He didn't know what to do. All isn't finished yet, he asked himself what it meant, that everything wasn't lost yet, or that the war against Voldemort wasn't totally won? He hesitated, was it a trap? Was some Deatheater trying to kill the last Marauder? He smiled grimly. It wasn't as if life mattered that much, in these days.

He suddenly remembered the boy he met a few days ago, at Godric's Hollow, before… Before. What did he say? "You will think you've lost everything, but there will be someone left" or something like that.

There will be someone left.

Decided, he got up briskly.

All isn't finished yet.

The owl Hedwig followed him with her surprised amber eyes as he caught his cloak. The words were electrifying him.

I'll need your help…

"Well, are you coming, or not?" he asked the owl, opening the door.

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The small dark cell in which Sirius had spent the last twenty-four hours belonged to an enormous mansion. It was empty except for the dementors. It must be really hard to find, too. The perfect prison, he bitterly thought. Everywhere around, there were only trees. Sirius followed his strange companion in the grim corridors labyrinth to the exit door, and then entered with him into the cold forest.

A laborious run began there. It was the dead of the night, and the paths were nearly invisible, anyway, the boy had given up using them. He just went on, stopping from time to time and whispering, "point me" to his wand, to find his way. Sirius was freezing, the cold November wind was slipping in the collar of his cloak, and he stumbled at every step.

An hour and a half-dozen of "point me" later, the strange boy stopped before an old wooden cabin. It looked like the Shrieking Shack, which sheltered Remus the full moon nights, in their school years. God that time seemed so long ago! Another "Alohomora" took care of the lock and they came in.

All was dark and dusty. With a start, Sirius felt something little and restless, that he couldn't identify, fell down in his hair.

"Lumos!" said the boy. Blinking, Sirius looked around. The furniture was in a very bad state. A wooden bench was running along the wall, half broken down here and there; in the middle of the room, a large table proudly stood on its three legs, there were also two footstools, a disfigured armchair and an old cupboard.

"Where are we, what is this place?" asked Sirius.

He took a better look at the boy. He could only see the lower part of his face, but he seemed strangely familiar, as someone he'd have known long, long ago, but never totally forget. The feeling didn't make him feel better.

"Hem… Tell me, do I know you?"

"Of course, you do." answered the other, a smile in his voice. "And for this place… Well, I'm not sure, somewhere around London…"

"But why? What are we doing here? What happens after?"

"Here, we're waiting for someone. And after… Well, it's a bit difficult to say, some unexpected things might happen…" He seemed suddenly a bit less self-confident.

Then, Sirius heard a light knock at the door. The boy opened it; a white owl came in and majestically settled on the dirty bench.

"You're finally there. Well, you took your time!"

The owl hooted indignantly and turns its back to him.

"Oh, stop that, will you? I'm sure you paused in the way for an extra shrew-mice hunting"

Offended, the animal didn't bother answering. The boy looked back to Sirius.

"He won't be long. He is really coming, huh?" he added for the owl.

The bird gave him a disdainful look, as to say "But who do you think I am?"

"Who is coming?" asked Sirius tentatively.

"Who is coming? But Lupin, of course!" it sounded like an evidence.

"R… Remus? But… But why would he…"

"Because I asked him! We need some help, and I don't know who else could swallow your story. Except Dumbledore, maybe, but he is a bit busy, actually."

Sirius didn't understand, he didn't understand anything.

Nevertheless, he decided to stop asking questions, accepting the fact that, since the beginning of the week, he didn't have any control on his life anymore.

Five minutes passed without anyone appearing. Sirius's host started losing patience, giving more and more suspicious looks to his owl.

Then, Sirius heard knocking again.