Hoping you're all liking the story so far! I'm really enjoying writing it, so I hope you guys like reading it, too.
Sirius was once the most attractive person in school.
His slim, yet muscular physique, his silky black hair and his smile that made you weak the knees were enough to charm anyone into submission, not to mention is natural charisma and ease when talking to people.
But now, he was just a ghost of his former self. 13 years in Azkaban had taken its toll on Sirius. There had been no trial. The only people who could have possibly defended him were dead, and Peter wasn't a registered animagus. There was no concrete proof that Sirius was, in fact, innocent. So he went to Azkaban where he was given two meals of cold soup a day and the Dementors took all of his happiness away.
However, although he now resembled a skeleton more than the man he used to be, his mind remained completely intact.
Most of the people who were sent to Azkaban were driven insane shortly after their arrival by the complete lack of anything happy to keep them going. Being without any form of happiness left most people to wallow in the dark, dank cell where they would stay for the rest of the foreseeable future.
But Sirius was different. He could hold on to good thoughts that weren't necessarily happy. Sirius knew he was innocent, knew what everyone thought of him was wrong. The Dementors couldn't take it away from him, because it wasn't happy- it was simply a fact.
The other thing that kept Sirius going was the memory of Remus. They had been happy together, yes, but not every memory of his best friend and lover were happy. And still, even the memories of them fighting, or his memories of pining over Remus during the second half of their school years were enough. They reminded him he had to stay sane, because he had someone to stay sane for. He had to get out and prove his innocence not just to the world, but also, and more importantly, to Remus.
So he stayed in Azkaban, waiting for any sort of word as to where Peter was.
The answer came in the form of a newspaper, given to him by the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge.
"Black." Fudge called from outside the bars.
"Fudge." Sirius replied. "Hear you're Minister now. Guess I should congratulate you on that. Are you here to inspect the prison?"
"Thank you. And yes, yes I am. You're the only inmate that I've had a proper conversation with. From what the Dementors hear, you're not exhibiting normal behavior for inmates."
"Yes, well, when have I been one to be normal?" Sirius said, a corner of his mouth twitching up slightly in something that may have been a smile.
"Yes. Though it strikes me as odd that you've been here for almost 12 years and are in a better mental state than some who have only been hear one or two."
Sirius shrugged, not ready to tell the Minister he'd found a way to keep sane while surrounded by Dementors. "I guess some are just more hardheaded than others." Trying to change the subject, Sirius pointed a think finger at the paper in Fudge's pocket. "Any way I could take that Prophet off your hands? Only it's dead boring in this tiny cell. A crossword would be a very welcome diversion."
"Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt." Fudge said, tossing the paper through the bars.
"Ta, Minister." Sirius said, tipping an imaginary hat.
"Well, Black, I'll, eh… see you next inspection, I'd wager."
"Do I look like I've got anything better to do?" Sirius said, gesturing at his surroundings. "Have a nice day, Minister. And congratulations, again."
Fudge shook his head and continued down the corridor, incredibly confused at the conversation that had just taken place.
Sirius pulled the paper towards himself, scanning the headlines quickly.
Oh, look. Arthur and Molly. There's a bit more to the Weasley family than I remember, Sirius thought, reading the caption and discovering that the Weasleys had won the drawing and used it to go to Egypt, and the new addition was the youngest of the family, a girl named Ginny. Good for them, they could do with a vacation.
Sirius looked a bit closer, his eyes shifting, all thoughts of the Weasley family gone from his mind.
Perched on top of the youngest Weasley boy's shoulder was a rat, a rat missing a finger on one of his front paws.
Peter
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