It was early morning and blood red was leaking into the dusty grey of the morning clouds. It was incredibly windy outside and the cloaks of three wizards whipped around their ankles. They were walking up a steep incline toward what appeared to be a fortress of ageless horror. Oily black bricks made up the walls and not a single barred window could be seen from the outside. Turrets made of black iron rose into the crimson sky like claws. A brown cobblestone path led to the front gates, which were made of the same twisted metal as the turrets and made up the terrible jaws of Azkaban.
Two of the wizards were leading the third, whose hands were bound behind his back at the wrists. His long dark hair was blown into his tired and pale face. Although he was still fairly young in appearance his eyes seemed tormented with experience. Seeming to ignore the deplorable weather, he muttered to himself constantly as though he was carrying on a conversation under his breath. The two wizards were aurors leading their prisoner, and they were not in the best state either -- both were slightly worn looking and shared the same hardened expression. Stubble riddled their chins and their faces were slightly hollow as though they had suffered years of constant stress.
The younger auror -- who was not much older than his charge -- looked at the young man to his left. He had been very handsome at one time, even now his looks were only slightly marred by his windswept hair and time hardened look. The auror examined the man's expression; his brow was furrowed and his lips turned into a slight frown, and his grey eyes were vacant seeming. The older wizard kept his gaze forward, intent on getting the job done so he could get away from the enormous prison as quickly as possible.
As they drew nearer to the iron gates it began to rain; a light drizzle that glowed gold in the glow of the morning. The cobblestone path grew slick with a thin layer of water and the prisoner lost his footing once "Get going," growled the older man as the prisoner stopped to gather his composure again.
"When did it start raining?" The prisoner squinted up into the red sky, lowered his head again, and allowed himself to be led forward once more. He began to mumble to himself about the rain. The more he spoke the more it sounded like he was arguing with himself.
By the time they arrived at the entrance the sun was beginning to shine through the clouds. The older wizard pointed his wand at the door and the gigantic gates slowly swung open with much complaint from the hinges. An icy draft issued from inside the great stone building and the trio gave a simultaneous involuntary shudder.
They stared into inky blackness, not a single light could be seen emanating from the belly of the gargantuan building. The young auror fumbled around for a moment with shaking hands before producing a wand. "Lumos," his voice trembled worse than his hands. A bright light shone from the end of the wand and they entered the maze-like corridors of Azkaban.
The chill in the air was intense, but the aurors struggled to keep their wits about them as they led the prisoner to his cell, they felt all the hairs stand up on the back of their necks and a terrible unease filled the air. The young auror held out his wand to light the halls while the older one kept a close watch on Sirius. The glow from the wand shone oddly off the damp bricks, adding to the already eerie aura about the place. It was the home of murderers and criminals of the highest degree, who set the mood by the sobs occasionally heard from behind the walls, and sometimes the odd scream.
The young man was shaking nearly uncontrollably when they stopped and faced the wall. Although there were no defining features that made this section of wall different from any other length of wall, the old auror whispered into the prisoner's ear. "Sirius Black, cell 02360." Suddenly the wall turned into an old wooden door with a barred window at eye-level before the eyes of Sirius Black and his eyes widened in sudden terror. The auror searched for a key whilst the younger one shifted uncomfortably during the silence. "Ingram," he said nervously, "Can you please search faster?"
Ingram ignored the young man and took his time in finding the key then proceeded to unlock the cell. He led the still compliant prisoner into his cell, completely tuning out Sirius' look of complete horror. "Now we can go," Ingram reassured the young man while closing and locking the cell. The young auror looked incredibly spooked and seemed all too grateful to be going.
Sirius sat alone and felt the mood turn from simply sending an odd chill of anxiety through him to an oppressive sense of impending doom. The light was gone within seconds and replaced by a feeling of utter hopelessness. The temperature dropped and he unconsciously wrapped his arms around himself; the cold still went straight through to his bones. He could feel it seep into his innermost being where it began to eat away at the back of his mind. Sirius closed his eyes and swallowed, steeling himself for what he knew would be coming.
He began to picture a warm summer's day, a golden sun lighting up every speck of dust in the air. Slowly a landscape took form, green grass and a few scattered trees. He surrounded himself with the smiling faces of his friends. Remus' light hair glowed in the afternoon light and he was laughing--cautiously as always--at a crude joke made by James. Both were sprawled out haphazardly on the grass. It was a memory of their last day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. James kept looking over his shoulder, he was waiting for Lily. She wasn't due for five more minutes, and knowing her she would be punctual to annoying perfection. James had been hoping in vain that she would throw her policy of showing up on time out the window to see him earlier. Instead he was rewarded with the face of a slightly chubby boy jogging toward them. As the boy approached the mood of the memory made a violent shift. Sirius could see every detail on the boy's panting face when he reached them and he felt sudden disgust and anger. In less than an instant the memory slipped away to an empty feeling of utter despair in the pit of Sirius' stomach.
That's when he thought of the Potters. "Oh, James…" his voice was barely a whisper, "You looked so handsome that day. And Lily… oh, Lily, you looked more beautiful than ever." Sirius stared distractedly into the darkness as he remembered the Potters' wedding. James waited underneath simple white archway covered with white lilies for his bride to appear. Not a second sooner than was scheduled and not a second later did she come, perfect timing as always. James' face immediately lit up and he gazed in amazement at the woman he was about to marry. Lily's red hair spilled over her shoulders with a slight curl and was adorned with white lilies. The dress was a simple yet elegant white with a pearl bodice. Sirius recalled it as a last day of happiness before a wave of terrible events had ensued. He remembered Remus' smiling face--perhaps it was the last time he had truly seen him smile an honest smile. And Sirius had been best man, right up there next to James, feeling the happiness and anticipation just radiating off of him. They had been closer than brothers in school, and perhaps James was in essence his second chance at a brother. He felt so proud of James that day. The memory began to fade into the darkness he was condemned to.
"But James is dead," Sirius spoke the words he dare not think. The memory was gone now, replaced only by the frightened face of a plump young man. It twisted into a sick silent smile. "Damn you Peter!" He growled, slamming a fist into the slick stone wall. "DAMN YOU!"
He sat silently seething in anger for a few moments before it ebbed away into desolation again. He began to give into the emptiness as he felt his soul turning hollow. His thoughts were turning hazy when he realised what was happening. Sirius frantically groped around in his quickly clouding memory for one last happy thing to think of. The gloomy feeling tightened its grip around his emotions and twisted them into anguish and misery. He wasn't going to give in to the sense of hopelessness creeping in around the edges of his mind without a fight. "I'm innocent!" He forced himself to stand, bracing himself against the cold granite walls with his hands. "INNOCENT! He's the one who should be here! Not me!" He felt his shoulders begin to heave with silent sobs.
Terrified, Sirius wracked his brain for an escape from the overwhelming sadness. That's when he found the memory he should have been searching for all along: the day he became a godfather. Everyone had been so happy that day, it was a small break in the black clouds that were constantly looming over everyone's heads. The fixed every ounce of his being onto making this memory shine brighter than the rest. Sirius sat alone with James outside of a hospital room door in St. Mungo's. James looked incredibly anxious and Sirius was functioning--unsuccessfully--as support. James was very jumpy, every time a door opened in the vicinity he would look up hopefully at the door across the hall. Once it did open to reveal a hospital worker who was just going to get another assistant to switch shifts. James began to express concern that it was taking far too long. Sirius assured him that everything was fine and that he should relax. In all honesty, he didn't have the first clue as to whether or not things were fine. After fifteen more minutes of unbearable silence the door had opened and James was beckoned inside by a plump young woman. Sirius sat outside a moment before taking a deep breath and rising to his feet. When he came in he saw golden summer afternoon sunlight streaming into the hospital room. Lily lay on the bed, exhausted but beaming nonetheless. In her arms was a tiny bundle complete with a tuft of dark hair that was unmistakably thanks to James, who stood over them both looking the proudest he had ever been. Baby Harry himself was sleeping quietly nestled next to Lily's bosom, his tiny chest rising and falling. Sirius recalled that feeling of shared pride with James, and the joy at being chosen to share in James' pride and little Harry's future.
Harry's future…
Both Harry and Sirius were now denied that future. In Sirius' sudden loss of concentration the memory began to grow hazy and he grew frantic. "You can't have this one! I want it! IT'S MINE! You can have all of my happiness, all of my memories, BUT YOU CAN'T TAKE THIS ONE!"
Slowly the fury in him died and he was left sobbing, left to drown in his own sorrow with all the happiness drained out of him. He let out one last scream of rage that echoed throughout the maze of empty corridors. He began to mutter to himself once again, and if one had been close enough to listen it could have been heard that he was repeating to himself, "Innocent. Innocent. Innocent….." All the while thinking of the duty James had appointed him with that he could no longer fulfill.