A/N

Well, here's chapter four; a continuation of the previous scene! Hope you enjoy it. And thanks a lot for the reviews!

Regina: I do hope that I didn't offend you with the comment I made in my last author's note. I have nothing against those who do like the SB/MM ship; hey, it's a free world after all, isn't it? And I most certainly don't doubt that there are plenty of well-written fanfics based on that particular ship. I was just expressing my feelings on the pairing; expressing my dislike of it. Maybe I should have made that clear…? In any case, I am sorry about it.

Chapter Four: The Headmaster and the Escaped Convict

They were in a different room; it was an office, and a familiar one at that. It didn't take the dark-haired witch long to recognize it as the Charms' professor's office.

The dark haired man sat stiffly in one of the chairs, face pale and eyes seeming to shine with raw emotion as he stared at the bearded wizard who sat across him.

"So, we have finally managed to catch you, Mr. Black."

"Yeah, you have." There was a moment's silence.

"Did you really think that we would let you have Harry? That we would allow you to…complete what you started?" There was no twinkle in the elderly wizard's eyes as he stared across at the former Hogwarts student.

"I wouldn't be able to answer that," said the dark-haired man, his shoulders thrown back in what could be called an arrogant position, "because it wasn't Harry that I was after."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I was after the rat…I explained everything to Harry…and he understands…" his voice was thick with something that he didn't seem to be comfortable with. "He, at least, seems to believe me, when the last time he'd seen me was when he was just one year old."

He laughed then, a bark-like laugh. "He believed me when those who I have known for practically my entire life just turned their backs on me. Funny how the world works, isn't it, Professor?"

The elderly wizard stared into his grey eyes for a moment, without saying anything.

"Yes, it is funny how the world works; funny how a man could find it possibly to betray his best-friend to his death. To betray his brother to his death."

It would have seemed impossible for the fact to turn paler than it already was; but it did.

"Don't you dare – how could you even –" he was breathing heavily, almost gasping for breath as he clenched his hands into fists. "I did not betray Lily and James; I would have died rather than betray them! But," he sneered, "what would you know? All you ever cared about was getting what you wanted; having things work out in your favor…having the satisfaction of knowing you were right…"

The elderly wizard nodded sagely.

"Yes, but clearly, I was wrong when it came to you, Mr. Black," he said, quietly, his voice one of steel. "I thought you were different from your family. I thought there was actually some hope for you who cared not one whit for your family's obsession with the Dark Arts…"

The younger man's face twisted into an expression of fury.

"Say what you will, but never," his eyes glinted, "never accuse me of playing with the Dark Arts. I loathe that form of magic, as you very well know. In case you have forgotten, I happened to excel in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I cannot say that I know much about you, Mr. Black…"

Heaving a dejected sigh, the dark-haired man slumped back into his chair, the fight seeming to leave his body just like that.

"You're all the same," he murmured, "every single one of you. Here you are, seated before me, having once promised me that you would do all you could to ensure the just treatment of all students – both past and present – and yet you are ready to condemn me to death."

He chuckled. "I will admit that I deserve it. For I was responsible for their deaths…" He paused. "If Remus hadn't forgotten to take his Potion…we would be speaking to each other differently, Professor. You would be realizing that what you believed to have happened, thirteen years ago, was…incorrect."

"Would I?"

The dark-haired wizard nodded.

"Yeah," he said, his voice hoarse. "But it doesn't matter. Not now, anyway. It's too late." He suddenly looked the elderly wizard in the eye; stormy grey eyes meeting clear blue. "When they…give me to the Dementors…the students will not be witnessing…it, will they?"

His interrogator shook his head, a look of surprise flashing quickly across his face.

"No, of course not," he said, watching the man nod.

"That's good. I don't want Harry to see…well, you know," he said, with a shudder at the thought of the Dementors' Kiss. "If he's anything like his father, he'd never forgive himself. Not when he knows the truth…"

"The truth, Mr. Black?"

"Yeah."

"What truth?"

"…It…really doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?"

Grey eyes met clear blue once more, much as the elderly wizard had hoped.

"No," said the dark-haired man. "It doesn't. My soul is going to leave my body soon, and I don't see anything happening that can possibly change that fact, so-" he broke off abruptly, drawing inward as though…he had just heard, just sensed something.

He glared at the elderly wizard. "You're reading my mind!"

"Am I…?"

"Stop it. There's nothing there for you to see; for you to need to know."

"Isn't there? What about all of that…guilt that you possess, thinking about your dear friends? Not to mention their son?"

"Stop it."

"Is that…regret that I see? Ah, yes, it is. So Azkaban has done you some good, Mr. Black-"

"-Get out of my head, Dumbledore! Get the hell out of my head! Can't you let a man face his Death in peace? Must you torment me till the very end?! I'm not bloody Voldemort; true, to you and everyone else in Wizarding Britain, I may not seem too different from the man, but I deserve a bit more respect than he does. At least, the old Sirius Black deserves some."

The elderly wizard did not answer, even as he felt the young male draw in as much strength as he could, trying to block his mind from him. He knew that it would not be easy for the man, for it was very clear that he was emotionally distraught.

Something told him that he wasn't distraught just at the thought of him upcoming death. And that made him curious. His earlier words made him suspicious.

Zooming through the various memories that the young man obviously treasured, or thought of most often – most of which were of his days at Hogwarts, along with his friends – his clear blue eyes widened as he struck gold.

"You changed…? Without…telling me?" There was a slight quiver in his voice that went unnoticed to the dark-haired man. "You used Peter…?"

"I said to get out of-"

"-You were not…?" The elderly wizard inhaled sharply, his face paling slightly. "He was the Secret-Keeper? A decoy, a bluff…no one would know, as they would have expected it to be you. And he betrayed you all…a spy of Voldemort's for quite some time, I see…"

He understood now; everything that he saw as he made his way through the young man's mind. He hadn't killed those thirteen Muggles; it had been Peter Pettigrew, servant and spy to Lord Voldemort. "But how did he-" he broke off. "Peter was an Animagus? An unregistered Animagus?"

Unwittingly, the dark-haired man nodded, although he looked extremely wary. "But how-? I mean no offence…but he was not the brightest-" A laugh cut him off.

"Why are you telling me you mean no offence?" questioned the prisoner. "Do you think I'd care if you called him a bloody Squib? He and I aren't exactly on good terms now. We've never been, not since…" He stopped, unwilling to go there. "He wasn't the only unregistered Animagus at Hogwarts. We managed it in our fifth year – three and a half years of planning and research, and we did it."

"We…?"

The ghost of a smile flitted across the pale man's face.

"Me, James and…Peter." His eyes had a faraway look in them. "We knew about Remus being a werewolf, and wanted to do something to help him. To make things seem more…bearable for him."

The elderly wizard looked interested.

"What forms did you take, if I may ask? You and James?" For he already knew about the rat.

"James was a stag," said the man, closing his eyes against the fresh pain in his chest. "Prongs." He added hastily; "a nickname."

Of course, the elderly wizard knew there was more to it than that, and he had to fight to keep the amazement off his face as he read the man's quickly disappearing thoughts on the map they had toiled to create. They would never cease to amaze him.

"And you?" he questioned. There was a slight pause, as the man stared calculatingly at Dumbledore, before he shrugged.

"Well, I am going to die anyway; it couldn't hurt," he muttered, as he closed his eyes. A moment later, a big, furry black dog sat on the chair he had been in, staring inquiringly at the elderly wizard seated across from him, before turning back into the dark-haired man. "Padfoot," he muttered, staring at his feet.

His interrogator looked impressed.

"I…don't quite know what to say, Sirius…" he said, slowly.

"Sirius?" There was an amused expression on the man's face. "Whatever happened to 'Mr. Black'?" He had expected a slight awkwardness, but all he got was a benign smile.

"Well, you see, 'Mr. Black' was the criminal who I was sure had betrayed his best-friend," said the wizard, almost chirpily, "whereas 'Sirius' is the intelligent, caring young man who I should have known would never betray his friends."

There was an awkward pause in the room as the two stared at each other.

"It's no point," muttered the young man, "I'm going to be given the Dementors' Kiss soon." He shuddered once more. "Just don't…don't let Harry see it. In fact, don't let him even hear of it until it's done."

"Always so noble, Sirius. I really should have realized…" The Hogwarts' headmaster stopped, shaking his head, before he stood up, an apologetic expression on his face. "Will I ever be able to earn your forgiveness?"

The grey eyed man stared at him for a moment.

"I don't know…it's not like I'm going to be around long enough for you to do anything to earn my forgiveness," he said, with a shrug. "And I most certainly don't want to die, leaving behind people who seek forgiveness they cannot attain until they too, are dead…"

"You may find that to not be the case, Sirius," said the Headmaster, as he laid a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"No, I'm not getting my hopes up," said the man firmly, not meeting the Headmaster's gaze. "Thanks. For…well, I dunno. For not expelling me from Hogwarts, all those years ago, I guess…"

The elderly wizard smiled.

"My dear boy, it would have been a crime to do so." With a last encouraging pat on the shoulder, he turned around and left the office, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Feeling a tug at her elbow, the dark-haired woman started, and whirled around startled as her companion appeared in her sight, a grim expression on his face. He nodded upward, and she immediately knew what he was asking her to do.

She turned back to stare at the dark haired man, watching as his image turned hazy, before it disappeared completely, along with the office.

It was the end of the memory. Wordlessly, she followed Albus Dumbledore out.

A/N

Okay, so I intended to have the scene brought to an end with this chapter, but I found that to do that, I had two options; either I cut out the Pensieve-memory of Dumbledore's chat with Sirius in Flitwick's office – which we know he had, as he mentions it to Harry briefly – or I leave the memory intact but just leave out McGonagall's reaction to everything.

I suppose the sensible thing to do would have been to cut out the memory, but I found, after typing it out, that I didn't have the heart to do so. And I couldn't very well leave out McGonagall's reaction! But still…I couldn't combine the two, or else this would have been a very long chapter. So, I, somewhat unwillingly, decided to stretch this scene to a third chapter, which would deal with McGonagall's reaction. I do apologize if it seems tedious and too long!

Rest assured though, that once that chapter is done, we'll be moving on to different scenes!

Well, till next time,

Siriusgirl1