A young Sirius squirmed uncomfortably in the high back rigid chair. Absentmindedly he shuffled his food around on his plate. His fork dragged along the bottom of the ancient Black family china. The screech had at least broken up the monotonous silence. Regulus, who sat across from Sirius, froze, his fork half way to his mouth. He quickly glanced over to his mother, Walburga Black, waiting for her reaction.
Sirius' mother's sharp gray eyes flicked up at Sirius in disdain. The sixteen year old Sirius slouched deeper into his chair. He hated the family dinners his mother insisted they have. It wasn't like they were a real family anyways. His mother had no problem telling him of how much of a disappointment he had been; Sirius believed that he had been a disappointment to his mother since he was born, and she had reminded him of this everyday of his life.
In fact, Sirius hated everything about the Black house: the drab carpets that needed to be thrown out, the austere and ugly paintings that dotted the faded walls, the Black crest on every little thing possible. It was a reminder to him of his family's pure-blood obsession, an obsession that Sirius could never accept. He hated his mother's prim eating etiquette, and disdainful eyes. He hated her starched, black dresses that fell to the floor, and her tightly spun bun. She was the image of pure-blood perfection, reveling in archaic etiquette, and worn out philosophies.
Regulus was not much better, well maybe in the fashion sense he was. His younger brother took pride in his ancestry, aspiring to one day grace one of the walls of Black family home with his portrait. He was proud of his Slytherin connections, and ingested the pure-blood philosophy like it was water. Walburga Black was extremely proud of Regulus, especially since she had been so disappointed with her eldest son; Regulus was in Slytherin, Regulus was the Slytherin Seeker, Regulus had made important connections with well known pure-blood families, Regulus didn't hang out with blood traitors like James Potter. In all, Regulus was the family's angel, and Sirius was just another mouth to feed. Sirius seriously doubted if his mother and father would miss him if he ever left.
Sirius sighed, and slid down further in his chair. He looked over to his brother, who would occasionally look up, and catch Sirius' eye. Black didn't really hate his brother; he just thought that Regulus was an idiot for buying into that pure-blood bull his mother tried to shove down their throats every day. Sirius had not noticed that his mother was eyeing him with increasing scorn.
"Sirius Black, I have not taught you to sit, or eat like that! You must be learning bad habits from that Potter boy. It's bad enough that you have that awful blood traitor, who chases after Muggle-borns, as a friend. I will not have you disgrace the name of Black by repeating his crude habits. Now sit up!" Walburga Black spit out.
Regulus snickered, which was, of course, ignored by Walburga. Maybe, Sirius thought, Regulus could be a twit. The comment made by Sirius' mother was actually nice for the woman, but Black hated her even more for it. He couldn't wait to leave. In a few weeks, he would be at James house, and he would never return to this hateful place.
Sirius glared at his brother, and abruptly sat up straight. He tossed his fork aside, instead determined not to allow another bite of his mother's food to enter his body. He wished he were with James, Remus, and even the annoying little Pettigrew. Walburga hadn't noticed right away that her son had stopped eating, intent on sipping her tea in just the right way.
Sirius stared at the bland walls, more importantly on the picture right across from him. It was of a long dead relative. The subject of the painting had the Black family gray eyes and dark features, but the man looked devoid of life. Sirius closed his eyes and shuddered. He never wanted to have his picture up on any wall in number 12 Grimmauld Place.
Black opened his eyes, and turned back to the picture, unsure why he was such a masochist. He hated the picture, as he hated most everything in this house, but something about the picture had been different. As Sirius continued to stare at it, he saw it change. The colors of the room around him seem to drain away.
The colors in the picture, on the other hand, became brighter. Sirius watched as the picture of his ancestor faded away, and was replaced by an idyllic scene by a lake. The grass was emerald green, and the sky was baby blue, dotted with white fluffs of clouds. The lake was vibrant, with glints of golden sunlight on its surface. In the center of the picture was a familiar willow tree near the lake's edge. Sirius could have sworn he had seen this place before.
Sirius suddenly remembered where this place was. It was the Hogwart's lake, and that tree had been the Marauder's favorite spot to sit by the lake. As Sirius began to remember this, he was shocked to see a miniature version of Remus being dragged unwillingly to the tree by miniature James and Sirius. Pettigrew trailed behind them, hopping about in his usual excitement.
A shudder of joy and sorrow swept through Black. He remembered this. This was the time when the Marauder's had decided to skip class, and go out and enjoy the fine weather. It was a few days before the full moon, and Remus had been on edge, worried not only about his impeding change, but about the end of the year tests. James had thought that Remus was going to snap, and had devised with Sirius a way of getting Remus out of the castle for a bit of fresh air. Pettigrew, as always, hadn't helped much in the planning, but he had been useful in catching Remus between classes, and convincing Lupin to go outside.
The four boys plopped down under the willow tree, Remus, more resistant than the others. Lupin still had his Potion's book in his hand, and resolutely tried to open it, and read. Sirius and James were not going to have any of that. Instead they conjured up fierce looking bubble animals, which starting fighting each other, preferably right over Remus' book. Pettigrew tried to create a bubble animal on his own, but failed miserably. Instead, he clapped his hands excitedly, as he watched the bestial matches. So far, Sirius was winning. James became craftier in how his bubble animals would perform, and was soon beating Sirius.
Sirius shuddered. A deathly chill filled his body, freezing his very soul. He was confused because the chill had nothing to do with how he felt about that memory. For him, his days as a Marauder had been the happiest times of his life. This freezing feeling seemed to come on him from some other source, something he knew he should remember, but couldn't. The memory of the Marauder's began to fade, its colors bleeding away; the sky turned gray-blue, the grass a drab yellow-green, and the lake turned a murky brown. Sirius watched as his friends began losing their vibrancy. James didn't laugh as loudly, Remus didn't smile as widely, Peter didn't move as quickly. Soon all the colors had faded to gray.
Black watched in horror as his friends faces began to disappear, turning into confusing shadows. Sirius could feel the memory slipping away from him. He began to see the dimensions and colors of his mother's dining room beginning to return. He began to hear his mother's high pitched voice. Sirius jumped up, and ran over to the picture. He tried to pry it from the wall. He wasn't going to lose that memory, not going to lose the faces of his friends, and have them replaced by a memory of a place he hated.
Sirius clawed desperately at the wall, his fingers turning bloody as he tried to pull the picture off. He screamed out in frustration, and scrabbled even more desperately with the picture. The picture would not budge. His friends were almost gone. Only James seemed to be the only one who was not completely fading.
Knowing that the picture would not come off the wall, Sirius did the only thing he knew he could do. He concentrated on James, just James, and ignored everything else. He focused on what James looked like. Slowly the image of James began to return. Black imagined James in his Quidditch robes.
Sirius closed his eyes, and focused with every part of his being on remembering James. He remembered how James use to like to wear his robes slightly wrinkled, and his hair tossled; Prongs had had an affinity for the wild boy look. He remembered the way James use to smile, wide and showing all of his teeth. He remembered James' eyes, brown, and oftentimes mischievous. But most importantly he remembered James' laughter and his voice. A distant peal of laughter echoed throughout Sirius' memory. The laughter calmed Black, easing his racing fear.
Sirius Black opened his eyes.
He was no longer in his mother's dining room. He was no longer scrabbling to pull a picture from a wall. Sirius's breathing was irregular and weak, and his sight was not much better. All he could see around him was darkness, and all he could feel was a deathly cold. Sirius opened his eyes a little wider. He was staring up into a black stoned ceiling that was covered in green mold. Black's breathing began to come out of his mouth more evenly, as his heartbeat became stronger. A horrible barrage of rattling breathes circled around Sirius.
Sirius suddenly remembered where he was.
The cold, hard floor of his cell had bruised his back where he had fallen. He had tried to escape the Dementors when they had swarmed in on him after the feeding frenzy had begun. Sirius had made it to his back wall that was closest to his window before he fell.
Black turned to his side and faced the window. The night was lightening, and streaks of dawn were slowly appearing. The Dementors were still in his cell, circling around and above him, but they seemed to be waiting. Waiting for what, Black wouldn't have been able to tell. Sirius had a feeling they were waiting for him to think of something happy so that they could pounce. He was surprised that they hadn't tried to suck his soul out yet.
Black turned from the window, to face the wall near the window, his heart beat slowly gaining speed. He had expected to see a Dementor, and was surprised by what it was he did see.
Instead of a Dementor, there was James, leaning coolly against the wall, exactly as Sirius had remembered. Sirius felt his heart beat a little faster. James looked so real, so alive. His hair was disheveled and rippled in the cool, morning breeze. His eyes shined brightly, and his skin was glowing. Sirius tried to hold in his happy feelings of seeing his friend again.
"Hello Padfoot. It's so good to see you again!" James said brightly.
"Prongs. I've missed you so much my friend," Sirius stuttered, his words awashed in his joy and sorrow. James smiled and so did Sirius.
The Dementors were perplexed, especially Smiley. Smiley and his gang of Dementors hovered near Sirius, wanting to swoop in, but sensing a variegated amount of feelings coming off of Sirius; they stood back, unsure exactly what was going on. The Dementors could sense something was different.
Smiley swooped in closer. Sirius pushed away from his guard, but Smiley didn't seem to want to attack. Smiley was once again intrigued by Sirius. In fact, the Dementor warded off the others. Smiley must be some sort of leader, a leader that was fascinated with Sirius. Black would say it again. He was never going to understand Smiley, or the creature's motives.
Sirius looked at James, who was watching Smiley. James seemed to be just as puzzled by the Dementor's reaction as Sirius was. Prongs turned back to Sirius, his eyes thoughtful and calm. His face was serene, and it comforted Sirius. All of Sirius' fears seemed to be slipping away.
"Don't worry Padfoot. The Ministry will be here shortly. They will bring reinforcements," stated James.
"How can you know that Prongs?" asked Sirius.
Smiley's head swiveled around, trying to figure out who it was Sirius was talking to. Sirius noticed none of this, his focus remaining on James.
Prongs smiled. Sirius would have remembered that smile anywhere. It was the smile James had when he married Lily. It was the smile James had when Harry was born.
"If you want proof Padfoot, look at your other Dementor guard, the one you call Skitty Kitty," James responded.
Sirius turned from James, looking for Skitty Kitty. Even though, there were about six Dementors in his cell with him, Skitty he picked out easily. Skitty was nervously floating back and forth in front of his cell door; the Dementor's movements were more erractic than normal. Skitty could sense something was coming.
"Skitty is acting oddly, but that doesn't mean they will come. Why would the Ministry care what happens to us in Azkaban?" Sirius said.
"They don't. The Ministry doesn't like having the Dementors out of their control. They wouldn't allow the Dementors out of their control for more than a day. They will be back in numbers, but until then, I'll stay with you until they come." James pushed off the wall he was leaning on, walked over to Sirius and sat down next to him. Padfoot felt safe with his friend at his side. Sirius curled up next to James, letting his weariness suck him under.
James had been right. About twenty minutes later, the Ministry came with a full force of Aurors, armed with Patronuses. They rounded up the guest Dementors, and escorted them out of the prison, but for some, the Ministry had come too late. Several prisoners were also led out of Azkaban, prisoner's that had lost their souls, and were only walking shells. Sirius wasn't sure what the Ministry was going to do with those unfortunate souls. One of the soulless prisoner's was Sirius' cell neighbor. Black had hoped that it was going to be Bellatrix that they had been coming for, but Sirius wasn't that lucky.
James had kept his promise. He had stayed with Sirius until the Ministry came, and after they had gone, and things had gone back to normal, James remained at Sirius' side. Though Black wasn't fully recovered for what had happened the night before, he did find that sleep was easier to come by with his fellow Marauder at his side.
A/N: The next chapter will be about Bellatrix. This may sound like the end of the story, but it isn't. Hopefully I will have the next chapter up soon. Until then, leave me a review with any feedback you have, and thank you for reading my story.