Chapter Thirteen: Silent Misery

"What foolishness people believe in has to do with how foolish they, themselves are."

I have never cried. I'm not about to start now. I'm going to jail. It's the end of the world. What's the point of crying?

Okay, so I'm lying. I cry every night. It's about the best thing I can do. Because there is nothing worse than watching everyone else get what you want and they don't deserve it. They did not crave it. It was all handed to them.

But Remus didn't come here to tell me that. He came here to stare at me. To judge me. I won't ever be able to explain the look in his eyes. He knew that no matter how many times he asked me I was not going to answer. I couldn't bring myself to it. Who in this world would believe me? WHO?

But I already knew the answer to that question….

No one.

No one would believe poor little twenty-one year old Sirius Black. Not Remus not anyone because in every one's mind I was capable of murder. Even if it was my best friends.

"Get out of here, Remus," I said looking at him straight in the eye. He was going to leave. He gave me a chance to explain and I let it slip. Just like every other chance I was going to be handed just like that. I don't need any chances to prove myself worthy of their trust. They had their chances of trusting me a long time ago.

People really don't get tired of staring at me through a cell door with sympathy and pity in their eyes do they? It's been six months since I've been sitting on a jail cell at the Ministry waiting for a stupid trial I am so sure I'm not getting I'm about to yell at them to take me to Azkaban already.

My pleas were answered. Dumbledore just came to deliver the news in the most nauseating, pitying, sympathetic, all three-in-one voice I've ever heard. For goodness sake! If you're bringing me news at least make sure I cannot be able to fucking predict them!

"I tried, Sirius," I think mockingly as Dumbledore stares at me waiting for a reaction. He wants a reaction? He's getting a reaction.

"Yeah, I supposed you tried really hard, didn't you, Dumbledore?" I said sarcastically. "Did in your little conversation you happened to mention that time I tried to kill Snape? 'Cause if you didn't you should go now, you know, give him a little more background information so that no one else will stand a fucking chance at trying to get me a trial!"

There. There he has a reaction. Not the smartest reaction, but a reaction nonetheless. Oh, my, what I would give to strangle the old man right now. I would give my left arm and strangle him with the right cause god damnit he's getting on my nerves with the 'I tried' and the 'Tell me what happened' shit.

HELLO! Don't you think that if I could tell you what happened I would? But I can't! It's absurd! Who in this world would believe that Peter. Yes, Peter, the little rat, Peter Pettigrew was James Potter's secret keeper? Who? Who would believe that such a smart guy would actually put that idiot rat as secret keeper? And that's not even the funny part. I actually thought it was going to work!

Please, I'd rather take my chances in Azkaban.

"Why, Sirius, you do have a thing for speaking truth from time to time," said Bellatrix slightly amused.

I clench my teeth automatically every time I hear her speak. It's like nails on a chalkboard. If I had a fucking galleon for every time I have wanted to put a silencing charm on queen bitch I could save a third world country.

She is so good at forgetting I hate her but she can't forget that little fact that we are related. Of course, I can't either. Guess we still have something in common.

"Bear in mind that the moment we both get out of here and face each other again, the only thing I'm going to forget is that we're related," she was also a fantastic writer…

She was released the next day and sent definitely to Azkaban six months later were we would have just one more conversation…
I could see her walking along the corridor and the farther along she walked the more fear that clouded her eyes. The more her fake smile would falter and the more ghostly she would look. I knew it was her first inspection so I wanted her to feel at home… (in a sardonic kind of way…)

"Hello, Amelia," I said planting a smile on my face. She jumped five feet out of her skin when she heard me. Up close and surrounded by all the dementors outside of my cell she looked more depressed than ever.

I'm taking a wild guess and say that she was very surprise at the fact that I, the most heavily guarded prisoner of Azkaban Prison is the most normal person in the place…

Remorse, regret, a sense for revenge, and being my mothers son can come in handy once in a while.

But, seriously, Amelia looked as though she was scared that I could be so bored… but it really is not my fault that there is nothing to do here but relieve past memories that truly after living them once, a replay doesn't really affect me.

I was so sure she was thinking that how a person who had killed thirteen muggles, and his two best friends could be so calm. I'll tell you why.

I didn't kill them myself. I just sent someone to do it for me. (In a way, anyway).

Why something so normal for me was so random for some people?

Fudge. Fudge. Fudge. Sounds like I'm craving for a hot fudge sundae but no, I have just realized that the worst Minister of Magic in the History of Magic has just arrived for an inspection in Azkaban. Cornelius Fudge… what an ugly ass name.

From the moment I first laid eyes on the guy today I knew he was more scared than Wormtail when I caught up with him twelve years ago… ah, those were the days… Bastard.

Back to Fudgie. As he got closer and closer to my cell I could feel an overwhelming urge to laugh like I'd never laughed before. I mean the guy was pale, pale like he had just seen a ghost. Actually, I take that back. He looked like a ghost. He actually looked like Peeves… oh well.

The point is that I wanted to laugh so hard the moment I asked for the newspaper he was carrying. I actually laughed once he was at the end of the hallway. But I didn't laugh at him. My laughter was that of triumph, delight, bitterness, all in one. I felt like I could do anything and succeed. Like I had just drank half a glass of Felix Felicis. But who wouldn't laugh a bitter, cold laugh when in the front page of the newspaper, sitting on the shoulder of a thirteen year old kid is your worst enemy. The guy who sent you to Azkaban. The biggest idiot to walk this earth… Peter Pettigrew was staring back at me.

I laughed.

Laughter only lasts for so long. One person can change dramatically from one moment of joy to the next. Bitter laughs are the ones that end the day in tears because one realizes one is a failure. Or one realizes, too late, that one was never a failure, but that he succeeded in his own way. Twelve years I spent grieving my friends. Reviving my own pathetic life. Hoping for revenge. Silently everyday I have suffered because I didn't know how I could ever be able to live peacefully. To get the hell out of here and hope for the best. And it had never been so clear to me that the way out of here was the same way Peter kept himself out of Azkaban. The same he had had to live for the past twelve years. One time James said that becoming Animagi would not only help Remus but it would help us in a strange way. I never knew he would be right.
Disclaimer: If you don't believe me… sue me.

A/N: So I deserve to be shot and buried for being such an irresponsible writer and leaving you all for months with a pathetic chapter (and this one is it's continuation) but school will be over on friday then i have finals then I won't have school until Janury 11 so you can bug me about updating all you want and it'll be my pleasure to comply. Thank you for all your reviews, they have inspired me to write more and more because I totally love this fic.

And special thanks to Nicole Black for updating her fic (you guys should all go read it because it is one of the best here) which inspired me to finish this short chapter. Don't worry... it might be short but I will try to update at the end of this week.