I own nothing but the plot, and not even all of that
Sirius Black woke on another dreary day in Azkaban. One day melded very much into another in this place, and he was no longer sure even what year it was. The dementors had very nearly wore him down into insanity with their constant attacks. The demons knew he was innocent, since they forced him to relive that horrific night every time they came near. He had told the human guards he was innocent often enough as well, but they never listened. They never even talked back. He'd have thought them deaf and dumb if he hadn't heard them talking amongst themselves.
He retained his sanity only through his obsessive need to find Harry. No one had ever visited him, so he had no idea where Harry was. His worry about his Godson was like a constant itch behind his eyes. His burning need to fix his mistake that night overpowered even his desire for revenge against the rat. He should have taken Harry from Hagrid. He never should have trusted anyone with Harry but himself. Forcing him to relive his guilt and shame for picking revenge over his Godson was the dementors worst weapon against him.
The prison was located on an island far north in the north sea. It's exact location was not publicized, but it was bloody cold. It was a poorly lit castle made of obsidian that had originally been made by a dark wizard who used it to breed dementors. The ministry took it over after his death, and began to use it as a prison in an effort to keep the dementors from spreading. It was insanely successful by the measurement of containing prisoners, but the conditions were deplorable. The dementors made it so that even being assigned here as a guard was a punishment of sorts.
The ability to shift into a dog was definitely a plus in this place, though. As a dog, his emotions were more simple. While he still felt them, they were less sharp, less pointed, and less able to affect him. He was more concerned with base needs as a dog. Speaking of which, his breakfast was in its usual bucket by the door. A pewter bowl of cold porridge and a tin cup of water was what passed for breakfast every morning in this place. No spoon was provided, nor a napkin. After using his fingers to scoop the porridge into his mouth, he sucked his fingers clean and wiped them on his dirty shirt.
Once a week, the cells and inmates were cleaned. A warden used his wand to hose everything down with a jet of cold water through the cells bars. The cell door was only ever opened on two occasions. The first time was when an inmate first entered the prison. The second was when they died, or more rarely, finished their sentence and was released.
Having finished his breakfast, he shifted into his dog form and curled up on his thin mattress to try and sleep.
Amelia Bones arrived on Azkaban Island by means of the ferry. It was the only authorized way onto the heavily warded island. The warden came out of his office to greet her as she entered the fortress.
"Madam Bones," he greeted as he approached, "this is quite unusual. We almost never get visitors here."
"Good morning, Albert," Amelia said. "I'm afraid we have a bit of a situation." She explained to the warden about the lack of a trial for Sirius Black.
Albert Diggory was a large, muscular man who had been the warden at Azkaban for five years. One of the very few human inhabitants of the island with freedom, he still stayed mostly to his office with the junior wardens. Even the medallions they wore to keep the dementors at bay, being on this island for any length of time affected you. The landscape outside the ancient fortress was bare and inhospitable. The structure of the prison took up almost all of the available space, leaving only a rocky shore of a few feet before meeting the granite walls of the prison. With the wind in the North Sea constantly blowing, the waves crashed over the rocks to break upon the walls, only to be beaten back time and again in an endless dance of water and stone.
Leading the way to a seldom used conference room, Warden Diggory ordered one of the his subordinates to fetch Inmate Black and bring him for questioning.
Something was different. Padfoot's ears pricked up at the sound of a door being opened down the hall. The large black dog opened his eyes and lifted his nose to scent the air. His life existed in tightly controlled time slots. He couldn't tell you what year it was, or even the month. He could, however, tell you exactly what day in his week it was, and what was going to happen next. In all the time he had been a prisoner here, never had that door opened at this time on this day. He felt the chill of the dementors slacken off, and he realized that one of the human wardens was coming. They came in twice a day to deliver food to each prisoners bucket. The bucket was then used by the prisoner as a toilet. The waste was vanished by the guard when dinner was delivered in the evening to the same bucket. On the day he thought of as 'Sunday,' the guards came in to wash the cells and remove any prisoners who had died.
Padfoot shifted back into his human form and watched carefully as two human guards approached his cell. Sirius recognized them as Earnest Macnair and Anthony Flint. Macnair inserted a key into the barred door of his cell while Flint held him at wandpoint.
"All right, Black," Flint said, "come nice and quiet now." Macnair grabbed Sirius and shoved him out of the cell.
"What's going on?" Sirius asked as they marched him down the corridor.
"Never you mind that!" Macnair snarled. "You're going to be good, or you're going to be late to your meeting."
"Meeting?" Sirius repeated. "What are you talking about?"
"With any luck," Flint sneered, "they've decided that keeping a murderer like you around is too much trouble to be worth it anymore."
"Yeah," Macnair agreed, "maybe they've arranged a little kiss for you. I can only hope."
With only that information to go on and no hope of ever being listened to, Sirius made his move. He pretended to stumble slightly, breaking out of Macnair's grasp. Flint tried to catch him, but only caught hold of the prisoners shirt, instead. The worn out cloth was so threadbare that it tore and slipped out of Flint's hands. Sirius rolled forward then over to his back. Macnair was trying to grab hold of him, and Sirius kicked out with both feet. He caught the Macnair in the chest, and pushed him back into the bars of the cell they were passing. Macnair saw only blackness as the back of his head collided with one of the bars of the cell and he lost consciousness. Flint had recovered by this point, and was trying to reason with Sirius.
"I didn't mean it!" he yelled, as the prisoner darted away from him. Sirius ducked as a stunner flew over his head, missing him by an inch. He dove out of sight around a corner and quickly transformed back into Padfoot. The dog scampered down the dark corridor, sticking to shadows as much as possible. Flint followed, then stopped short as he saw nothing but shadows down the dark corridor. One of the shadows seemed to be darting this way and that as it moved farther away. He sent another stunner at the shadow, but it seemed to pass right through it. Flint stood there as the reality of the situation suddenly sunk in. Sirius Black was gone.
Amelia was sitting at the conference table having tea with Albert. They had been classmates at Hogwarts, and were catching up. His nephew Cedric was in the same house as her niece Susan, and they were both proud to see their families continue in Hufflepuff. She had just put the cup of tea to her lips when a screeching wail erupted throughout the fortress. The dementors began to converge on one section of the prison. Albert jumped up and ran to his office, Amelia right behind him.
"Report!" he yelled as he entered the room.
"Sirius Black has escaped!" Anthony Flint, one of his youngest wardens, answered. He was also one of the wardens he had sent to collect Black.
"How did that happen?" Diggory asked.
"We were just bringing him to you when he ran for it," Flint responded. "Seems he really didn't want that kiss."
"What kiss?" Amelia asked, "What are you talking about?" Flint was startled to see the Director for the DMLE standing by his boss. It wasn't a standard practice to taunt the prisoners, but neither was it frowned upon. The other guard, Earnest Macnair, was sitting with an icepack on the back of his head. Between the two of them, Amelia soon had an accurate account of everything that had been said and done by all parties. A rather shaken looking young man entered and approached Warden Diggory.
"Sir," he said, his voice trembling. "The dementors have reported that they've been unable to find the prisoner."
"Oh, Merlin," Diggory groaned. "This won't end well."
"I have to report this," Amelia said, not unsympathetically. She liked Albert, but this wasn't going to look good for him at all. She was far more concerned with Sirius Black. Given what the two guards reportedly said to him, she couldn't blame him for running. This was going to be hard to manage, however. She wished she had insisted on questioning him in his cell.
"I want a full sweep of dementors to look over every inch of that castle!" Cornelius Fudge yelled. "Meanwhile, get some Aurors on brooms, start flying over the surrounding water, see if you can find him." The minister had just been informed by Amelia of Black's escape. "I want him Kissed immediately!"
"Minister," the Director of the DMLE called out to him from the fireplace. "You can't order that."
"The hell I can't!" Cornelius protested. "I know you have your pet theory that Black is innocent, Madam Bones, but without proof we must assume the worst."
"We have no prove of his guilt, either," Amelia reminded him, "and without proof of that you can't order him to be Kissed. It would be murder!" Cornelius stopped short at that.
"Murder?" he repeated. "He was found laughing in the street surrounded by dead bodies!"
"We still don't know what happened," Amelia argued.
"Then why did he run?" Cornelius countered. "If he were truly innocent, then why run?"
"According to the guards," Amelia explained, "they were taunting him about having the Kiss administered to him." Cornelius looked disgusted.
"If we had a lower position in the ministry to put them," he growled, "I'd have them transferred there today."
"I will not allow a Kiss on sight order to be issued," Amelia said, sternly. "I'll take this to the Wizengamot if I have to." Cornelius thought for a moment about who might win that fight, and realized that the Wizengamot was already going to be after someone's head for allowing the heir to the Black family go to prison without trial. To add a Kiss on sight order in addition to that would cause them to target him instead of Bagnold and Crouch.
"Fine," Cornelius said. "You'd best keep the dementors at Azkaban, then. I have no idea how we'd stop them from Kissing him even if I didn't give the order."
"We need to meet and come up with a plan for capturing him alive," Amelia said, relieved that the minister had seen reason.
"Yes," Cornelius agreed. "I'll need to inform the muggle Prime Minister as well. We can present it as him being a mentally ill patient who's escaped from a hospital. That way if you're wrong, we can blame any deaths on his madness. If he comes quietly, all the better."
"Yes, Minister," Amelia said, and left the fireplace to start to organize the assets under her control.
"Amelia!" Cornelius called after her. Her head reappeared in the fire. "We need to get someone to guard Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter?" Amelia asked.
"Guilty or innocent," Cornelius explained, "that Halloween night represented Sirius Black's greatest downfall. He either failed to protect Harry Potter, or failed to kill him. Now that he's out, he'll be going after the boy. Whether to protect him or to kill him I don't know, but it provides us with our greatest chance of finding him."
"Of course, Minister," Amelia acknowledged. "I'll send some aurors at once."
"Actually," Cornelius decided, "I'll handle that. Choose an Auror you trust, someone young and able to relate to students and send them to Hogwarts. Actually, make it two aurors, make sure the senior one has some experience. I'll be informing Dumbledore shortly about the escape."
"Dumbledore's not Chief Warlock anymore," Amelia said.
"No," Cornelius admitted. "But if Harry Potter is in any danger, as Headmaster he needs to be told."
Cold. Bone chilling coldness seeped into his body, having already drenched his fur. Doggy paddling through the swells, he swam as fast as his dog body would allow him to. He remained in dog form, since he knew that however wet his fur got it was still his best protection against the cold water. Bare skin and the thin rags he wore for the past 11 years would provide next to none. Twice he saw wizards on brooms pass him over, but as a black dog he was just another dark patch in the water. They were looking for a human.
For hours, he concentrated only on keeping his head above water, keeping moving towards shore as fast as he could manage. He had to try hard not giving into the temptation to drink salt water, no matter how thirsty he was. It was mid-morning when he had escaped from his guards, but it wasn't until almost noon before he had navigated his way out of the fortress and plunged into the North Sea.
He kept swimming until nightfall, when he saw what was either his salvation, or a hypothermia induced hallucination. A light. It was accompanied by the sound of waves crashing onto a shore. He changed his course and swam with renewed vigor towards land. It didn't even matter to him at this point if it turned out he was returning to Azkaban. He had never been so cold in his life.
His strength had just about given out when he felt rocks under his paws. Sirius scrambled onto land and crawled to a field shortly beyond the rocky shore. He collapsed, but managed to pick himself up, shake the water out of his fur, and crawl into a cluster of vegetation. This would provide him cover while he slept.
"What do you mean he had no trial?" Dumbledore asked, incredulously. "There were death eater trials, I attended several of them myself."
"But not all of them?" Cornelius asked. He had paid a visit to the school to inform the headmaster of the escape of Sirius Black.
"No," Dumbledore admitted. "I wasn't Chief Warlock at that time, so did not preside over trials."
"As I recall," Cornelius said, "Jebediah Doge was the Chief Warlock, but was killed by death eaters some time before the fall of Voldemort. Minister Bagnold held the position for several years after that."
"Yes," Dumbledore acknowledged. He knew that Cornelius was well aware of these facts, but stating them was his way of distancing himself from the problem. "Why didn't Black tell anyone? He's been in prison for years."
"Well," Cornelius admitted, "I'm afraid the conditions at Azkaban are a bit worse than I was aware of. We've questioned the wardens there, and apparently he had routinely protested his innocence until he got tired of trying. They didn't pay attention to him, though, since most of the prisoners there routinely protest their innocence."
"I trust every effort will be made to capture him alive?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes," Cornelius replied. "I insisted that the dementors be left behind so there are no 'accidents' when we find him. I can only hope we find him quickly, and that we can get this travesty of justice cleared up quietly."
"If Sirius Black comes to Hogwarts, you may rest assured we will do everything in our power to capture him alive, or have him turn himself in," Dumbledore said.
"Hopefully we'll have him long before Christmas break is over," Cornelius responded, "but if not then do keep a sharp eye out for him. We think that, whether he's guilty or innocent, he'll be heading for Harry Potter."
"I agree," Dumbledore said. "Harry is not currently at Hogwarts, but is spending the holiday with a friend."
"Which friend?" the minister asked.
"For security reasons," Dumbledore answered, apologetically, "I've been asked not to divulge that. I do have means of contacting him, however, and he has a guard with him."
"An Auror guard?" Cornelius asked.
"No," Dumbledore replied, "two of the troopers that came to assist him when his Jedi Master fell ill."
"I would feel better if there were aurors staying with him as well," Cornelius said, frowning. "I've had Madam Bones pick out two for protection duty and they're on their way here. I don't need to know where he is, but I insist that Harry Potter either accept the aurors where he is staying, or that he return to Hogwarts early. We cannot risk him."
"I will pass that along," Dumbledore said. "Please have the chosen aurors report to Hogwarts, and I will facilitate transport to Harry's location, or they can stay here if Harry returns."
"Very good," Cornelius said. "Well, I must be off. I have an appointment with the muggle Prime Minister, and I'm not looking forward to it at all."
Nymphadora Tonks was in her second year of Auror training. She was sitting in her Stealth and Concealment class when the instructor was interrupted by a Senior Auror Tonks recognized as John Dawlish. Dawlish whispered in the instructors ear, and then left.
"Tonks," the instructor called out. "You've been assigned to a special duty, you're dismissed. Meet Auror Dawlish in the hall, and good luck."
Titters and whispers followed Tonks out the door as her classmates wondered just what the special duty was their classmate was assigned to. As a metamorphmagus, she was either highly sought after for undercover work, or propositioned by people who wanted to use her ability to be with whomever they wished. Anyone but her.
"Nymphadora Tonks?" Dawlish asked as she exited her classroom.
"Just call me Tonks," the girl replied.
"Fine," Dawlish said. He had a no nonsense demeanor, and Tonks appreciated that he didn't tease her about her dreaded first name. He began to walk to the building's exit, and Tonks followed. "We've got a problem. Sirius Black has escaped."
"Escaped?" Tonks repeated. No one had ever escaped from Azkaban before. She was well aware of who Sirius Black was, since he used to be her favorite cousin. Well, first cousin, once removed. He used to babysit her before he went to prison.
"We're on protection duty," Dawlish continued. "Our orders are to capture him alive at all costs. Turns out he never received a trial, and there's very little actual evidence against him."
"Merlin," Tonks exclaimed. "Who are we protecting?"
"Harry Potter," Dawlish answered. "Best guess is that he'll be trying to find the boy to protect or kill him. We're to detain him either way."
They reached the buildings exit and went outside. Dawlish produced a portkey and they were whisked off to Hogwarts.
Minister Fudge was just leaving the school when he was met by the two aurors approaching it.
"Ahh, John," he greeted the senior Auror. "Who is your lovely partner?"
"Minister Fudge," Auror Dawlish introduced, "Auror Trainee Nymphadora Tonks."
"Nymphadora," Cornelius greeted, taking her hand in his, "it's a pleasure to meet you." It took every bit of self control for Tonks to not scowl or correct the minister, but she somehow managed it. The minister released her hand and turned back to Dawlish. "John, a word in private, if I may." The two men walked a short way until they were out of the earshot of anyone who might be listening.
"What can I do for you, Minister," Dawlish asked.
"An Auror trainee?" Cornelius asked.
"It was the director's idea," Dawlish explained. "Get some training for her, and have someone closer to the kid's age that he can relate to."
"That was actually my idea," Cornelius responded, "but I did have in mind a fully trained Auror when I suggested it."
"She's fully qualified for protective detail, Minister," Dawlish said.
"Of course," Cornelius responded, "I didn't mean to imply otherwise." He took Dawlish's arm and moved them a few feet further away. "You've been briefed on the possibility that Sirius Black might be innocent?" he asked.
"Yes, Minister," Dawlish answered.
"I need you to remember that it's only a possibility that he's innocent," the minister said. "Our first priority is to the safety of this community, not just to one man. I want to be clear. I am not granting you a license to kill. If it is at all possible to take him in alive, you must do so. However, if it comes down to the safety of an innocent, then you take him down in any way you have to. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Minister," Dawlish answered. "You can count on me."
A/N A short chapter, but a pretty important one. I wanted to get it out before Christmas, because family is coming for the holiday and the escape scene sort of wrote itself. :)