Sirius Black had not seen the sun in a long time. He had not seen anything happy for a long time. He had never felt so sad, so defeated.
He remembered the countless pranks he and James had pulled. James…now dead and gone. But he hoped, and wished that his best friend's child, Harry, would survive. He had helped, hadn't he? Sirius decided that he had helped.
It felt as if something important had happened a little while ago, or perhaps. There was only a faint sense of time in Askaban. Was that where he was? Sirius didn't know, he was lost. Lost in time and space. Kill me now, he thought wearily.
A black, dark presence passed by his cell- was it a cell, or was it just his room at Grimmauld Place, had Mother cursed him?-and Sirius slumped into the corner. There were lots of spiders here in Askaban, but their webs had only kept him warm in the winter. His room was near the outside of the prison, and while it was almost always deathly cold, he occasionally received a breath of spray through the window slit in wall, too high for him to reach.
Sirius was going to die there, he was sure of it. Die without seeing the sun ever again. That was a sad thought. Die without ever seeing…what else did he miss? What else was torn out of his heart? Suddenly, he remembered something. A tiny bundle…in pink, though he had always hated the color. She had insisted on it, his…his wife? He had a wife? This was new, all new, like a bucket of water being thrown on his head.
But a little bundle of joy, that was what the Muggles called them. A baby. A baby girl. And he had named her Isla, after the first person to be disowned off the Black family tree. That had given him a laugh. Still did, even though he was in Askaban. Even though there was the fact of the dementors. Isla Nigellus Black. They had both loved the name, his wife and him.
But where were they now? His wife was…dead. He knew this for a fact, had watched the Death Eaters torture her to death. James had rescued him, Sirius knew that. He hadn't wanted to leave, he had wanted to stay with her. But James had kept him sane, told him there was no use, he needed to stay alive, healthy, for his little girl. That was what had happened to Kira. His wife. She was dead.
But what about his daughter? Where was she? And then he realized something. That important thing that he had thought happened, that was her birthday. Her eleventh birthday. She had gotten into Hogwarts, she had to have gotten into Hogwarts. That was important for some reason. Sirius racked his brain for why, oh why, it was so important, so necessary. But he didn't figure it out before a dementors floated by and it all went away.
Who was he again?