Chapter Nine
The Azkaban Epidemic
Sirius Black had been in Solitary Confinement for two months. He hated it, being in this place day after day. He was beginning to lose all hope in having his name cleared. He was frequently having dreams about his days at Hogwarts and he could not figure out why either. Once again Sirius was in despair, a despair that seemed to not want to lift away from his weakened heart.
The Warden was as bad as ever, having ordered two more kisses to be performed to prisoners that he had reason to believe were planning an insurrection. He was now chained to the wall of the prison, because it was his second offense, a third would...well let's just say that he didn't want to even think about it. Marcus was kind enough to get himself in trouble so as to be in this isolation with his new found friend.
"Hey Sirius," Marcus began one night into his second month in confinement, "I tell you about my girl?"
"No Marcus," Sirius said becoming interested.
"Well she was the light of my life before I got here. I just heard that she died a week ago."
"I'm sorry Marcus," Sirius said, trying to sound sympathetic, "If there is anything I can do—
"What do you mean, 'if there is anything I can do?'" Marcus asked, "We're locked up in a prison with barely anything to eat. Anything you can do." Marcus chuckled a little bit.
"So why'd you do it?" Sirius asked.
"Do what?"
"Kill those muggles. What were they doing to you?"
"They were going to shoot me Sirius, with a gun or what ever they call their wands."
"I see." Sirius said simply.
"Why'd you do it Sirius?"
"What kill all those people?"
"Yeah," Marcus said, "why?"
"I didn't Marcus," Sirius said, "I told you before that I'm innocent."
"Who did it then?"
"Peter Pettigrew." Sirius replied.
"Peter Pettigrew's dead Sirius."
"I know he is, but he committed suicide just after he cursed them."
"Well," Marcus began, "You've always been truthful to me, so I guess I'm going to have to take your word for it."
There was a long silence as both men just sat there, eyeing the wall that separated them. Marcus finally broke the silence. "You were good friends with James Potter weren't you?"
"Yeah," Sirius sighed, "I was."
"And you're Harry Potter's Godfather?"
"Yes." Sirius said simply.
"Don't you think that Harry will be brought up thinking that you were the one who betrayed his parents?"
"The thought had occurred to me," Sirius began, "But we'll just have to take it as it comes to us."
Sirius Black was let out a day before Marcus, and with one last look at his friend, Sirius marched back down to his regular cell. He was as skinny as ever, and he seemed not to have eyes anymore, for they had sunk deep into their sockets. Every time he was forced to walk for a short distance he would end up panting heavily. He was weak, too weak in fact. But the fact that he was innocent kept him alive and sane.
He got into his cell and a voice belonging to some one he didn't know called out from a few floors above.
"Hey, Sirius." The voice hissed.
"What?" he replied.
"Jason Linder's dead." The voice said simply.
Sirius became white in the face, he could not cry. He gave out a nervous chuckle before saying, "H-how?"
"He got some disease." The voice replied, "Several of the others have it too."
"Can they do anything about it?"
"No," the voice hissed, "We have no infirmary in Azkaban."
"So how do you fight the disease then?"
"You don't fight it. You can't. If you get it you'll die surely."
That night, three more prisoners fell dead from this new threat in Azkaban. The Warden had some buried in the graveyard at the back of the prison. Over the next week and a half, ten more prisoners would bite the dust from the Azkaban Epidemic as it was now called. Never in the prison's history had so deadly a disease pass through corridors of the castle. In the sixth week of this deadly break out, thirty prisoners would die, fifteen of them in one day. It was starting to get out of hand, and the graveyard was getting dangerously full.
It was in the epidemic's eighth week when it happened. Sirius was awake and was eyeing the sleeping figure of Marcus O'Dell in the cell across from his. Marcus was showing signs of having the disease and he feared for his friend. When Marcus woke up his worst fears were realized. Marcus had a fever, just like the other prisoners, with cold sweat issuing from his body constantly. The disease took about three days to kill and Sirius could now see that in about three days time, he would be friendless on this hellish island.
He tried to comfort Marcus, but the fact that Sirius didn't believe in God, didn't help the situation that much. Finally, three days after Marcus had been infected by the plague, Marcus cried out in terror.
"It's okay, Marcus," Sirius said soothingly, "Soon you'll be with God."
"No I won't," Marcus said, crying, "I'm a murderer. God will never accept me into his Kingdom."
"Oh yes he will," Sirius began, he himself trying to fight back tears, "Pretty soon, when God sees that you're coming up to him, he'll say 'well hear comes Marcus O'Dell, he asked for forgiveness and so I will allow him to enter into my kingdom.'"
Marcus did not respond. Sirius gasped as he saw that his friend, Marcus O'Dell, had been killed by the Azkaban Epidemic.
In the plague's tenth week, the Warden became infected with it. He was sent to St. Mungo's to battle it out and was sent a replacement by the name of Arthur Weasley. Weasley didn't get out of his office that much, half out of fear of getting the disease and also of fear of the Dementors.
Finally, after twenty weeks of terror and death, the plague finally went away. But it had claimed the lives of one hundred and thirty prisoners. The Warden came back and relieved Arthur Weasley. The warden found that only thirty six of the prisoners could be buried in the cemetery. He announced to the Prison on that Tuesday when he returned, that the next day would see the entire prison population, digging up, burying, and burning bodies in the Graveyard. Sirius did not look forward to the next day and could not go to sleep, for the prospect of burning, burying, and digging up bodies, was not a good one.
The Azkaban Epidemic
Sirius Black had been in Solitary Confinement for two months. He hated it, being in this place day after day. He was beginning to lose all hope in having his name cleared. He was frequently having dreams about his days at Hogwarts and he could not figure out why either. Once again Sirius was in despair, a despair that seemed to not want to lift away from his weakened heart.
The Warden was as bad as ever, having ordered two more kisses to be performed to prisoners that he had reason to believe were planning an insurrection. He was now chained to the wall of the prison, because it was his second offense, a third would...well let's just say that he didn't want to even think about it. Marcus was kind enough to get himself in trouble so as to be in this isolation with his new found friend.
"Hey Sirius," Marcus began one night into his second month in confinement, "I tell you about my girl?"
"No Marcus," Sirius said becoming interested.
"Well she was the light of my life before I got here. I just heard that she died a week ago."
"I'm sorry Marcus," Sirius said, trying to sound sympathetic, "If there is anything I can do—
"What do you mean, 'if there is anything I can do?'" Marcus asked, "We're locked up in a prison with barely anything to eat. Anything you can do." Marcus chuckled a little bit.
"So why'd you do it?" Sirius asked.
"Do what?"
"Kill those muggles. What were they doing to you?"
"They were going to shoot me Sirius, with a gun or what ever they call their wands."
"I see." Sirius said simply.
"Why'd you do it Sirius?"
"What kill all those people?"
"Yeah," Marcus said, "why?"
"I didn't Marcus," Sirius said, "I told you before that I'm innocent."
"Who did it then?"
"Peter Pettigrew." Sirius replied.
"Peter Pettigrew's dead Sirius."
"I know he is, but he committed suicide just after he cursed them."
"Well," Marcus began, "You've always been truthful to me, so I guess I'm going to have to take your word for it."
There was a long silence as both men just sat there, eyeing the wall that separated them. Marcus finally broke the silence. "You were good friends with James Potter weren't you?"
"Yeah," Sirius sighed, "I was."
"And you're Harry Potter's Godfather?"
"Yes." Sirius said simply.
"Don't you think that Harry will be brought up thinking that you were the one who betrayed his parents?"
"The thought had occurred to me," Sirius began, "But we'll just have to take it as it comes to us."
Sirius Black was let out a day before Marcus, and with one last look at his friend, Sirius marched back down to his regular cell. He was as skinny as ever, and he seemed not to have eyes anymore, for they had sunk deep into their sockets. Every time he was forced to walk for a short distance he would end up panting heavily. He was weak, too weak in fact. But the fact that he was innocent kept him alive and sane.
He got into his cell and a voice belonging to some one he didn't know called out from a few floors above.
"Hey, Sirius." The voice hissed.
"What?" he replied.
"Jason Linder's dead." The voice said simply.
Sirius became white in the face, he could not cry. He gave out a nervous chuckle before saying, "H-how?"
"He got some disease." The voice replied, "Several of the others have it too."
"Can they do anything about it?"
"No," the voice hissed, "We have no infirmary in Azkaban."
"So how do you fight the disease then?"
"You don't fight it. You can't. If you get it you'll die surely."
That night, three more prisoners fell dead from this new threat in Azkaban. The Warden had some buried in the graveyard at the back of the prison. Over the next week and a half, ten more prisoners would bite the dust from the Azkaban Epidemic as it was now called. Never in the prison's history had so deadly a disease pass through corridors of the castle. In the sixth week of this deadly break out, thirty prisoners would die, fifteen of them in one day. It was starting to get out of hand, and the graveyard was getting dangerously full.
It was in the epidemic's eighth week when it happened. Sirius was awake and was eyeing the sleeping figure of Marcus O'Dell in the cell across from his. Marcus was showing signs of having the disease and he feared for his friend. When Marcus woke up his worst fears were realized. Marcus had a fever, just like the other prisoners, with cold sweat issuing from his body constantly. The disease took about three days to kill and Sirius could now see that in about three days time, he would be friendless on this hellish island.
He tried to comfort Marcus, but the fact that Sirius didn't believe in God, didn't help the situation that much. Finally, three days after Marcus had been infected by the plague, Marcus cried out in terror.
"It's okay, Marcus," Sirius said soothingly, "Soon you'll be with God."
"No I won't," Marcus said, crying, "I'm a murderer. God will never accept me into his Kingdom."
"Oh yes he will," Sirius began, he himself trying to fight back tears, "Pretty soon, when God sees that you're coming up to him, he'll say 'well hear comes Marcus O'Dell, he asked for forgiveness and so I will allow him to enter into my kingdom.'"
Marcus did not respond. Sirius gasped as he saw that his friend, Marcus O'Dell, had been killed by the Azkaban Epidemic.
In the plague's tenth week, the Warden became infected with it. He was sent to St. Mungo's to battle it out and was sent a replacement by the name of Arthur Weasley. Weasley didn't get out of his office that much, half out of fear of getting the disease and also of fear of the Dementors.
Finally, after twenty weeks of terror and death, the plague finally went away. But it had claimed the lives of one hundred and thirty prisoners. The Warden came back and relieved Arthur Weasley. The warden found that only thirty six of the prisoners could be buried in the cemetery. He announced to the Prison on that Tuesday when he returned, that the next day would see the entire prison population, digging up, burying, and burning bodies in the Graveyard. Sirius did not look forward to the next day and could not go to sleep, for the prospect of burning, burying, and digging up bodies, was not a good one.