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When light shines dark
Now he was out he started to wonder what he could do before he left for shore. The guard who delivered the meal was probably in bed by now so he did not have to deal with him. He did not really have anyone to say goodbye to, he was in solitary confinement, the only time he had even heard a human speak was when he talked to himself or when the Gate Master paid him a visit. Even the screams from those who had sunk into insanity usually did not reach him here, because he was a notorious murderer, it was not safe to put him with others, after all, he might find a way to kill them, not that he did not amuse himself with that very thought once in a while. He was not a man to kill for pleasure; he had not yet forgotten what pleasure entailed while being entrapped here.
Innocent men do not lose themselves to the darkness of Azkaban. With a place so full of lost souls and shrouded hearts, one can become infected. Day after day he was told he was a killer, that he deserved to be killed, to have his soul sucked out. What sort of monster would sell out his friends, his family, to the dark Lord? What sort of monster indeed – he was going to find him and make him pay, he was going to make them all pay. Revenge was a nice thought – it could not be taken away from him because it was engrained in his very being, every fibre of his body longed for it, screamed for it. The wizarding world had spent a year, believing him of all people, auror extraordinaire, capable of so much darkness; they did not realize how true that was.
He thought about paying a visit to his dear cousin and jeer at her, after all if she screamed his name and his escape the guards would just think it was her crazy screams, she was after all, clinically mad. But then again she might be too mad to even register he was there at all or that he was taunting her, and then where was the fun? No, it was just best to forget her, she was not worth it, he should be using his time hunting those who deserved to be behind bars, not taunting those already there, though maybe he would come back to kill her, but not today. No, maybe in a couple of years once he'd become more powerful after unleashing his core and had his Godson. He would level this place to the ground and kill everyone within it, after giving them trials of course.
The dementors still had not come back, he wondered how many times a day the guards had to use that spell, they had been conditioned to react to it strongly. Sirius started to glide across the island looking for the water, wondering where the gate master was and why he had not been there to stop him. And then he saw him, he was skimming stones to ease the boredom, of course, he got bored too, and for a man who seemed so vile on occasion, it was such a normal activity. Watching the round stones jump across the surface of the water six or seven times before falling to the murky depths seemed calming, he would like to try it sometime. He stalked up to him as silently as a wild cat crept up to its prey.
He stood there watching him for a moment before taking another step forward. "It is peaceful isn't it," he whispered into his ear, coming up right behind him, just loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough to be menacing, it still rang clear in the otherwise silent night. The gate master dropped all the stones he was holding and jumped around to face him and was about to signal for help, but his wand was already flying into Sirius' waiting hand. He thought about keeping it, but when he was learning to use magic without a wand, having one in his possession defeated the objective. Besides, the wand had a unicorn hair in it which was the same as Peter's and that did not sit right with him, he'd feel sick every time he used it, so he snapped in two in front of his eyes and dropped the useless halves at their feet.
He smirked in amusement at the look of loss on the man's face but it was there only for a moment before the fear overtook his features once more. Gate Master needn't worry, with the fun Sirius had planned for him, he would not need the wand much longer. Fear, it was wrong of him to desire to be the object of its affections, but he was after all a dangerous man, that part was the truth, he was dangerous now. He would blame it on Azkaban, this foreign new dark desire, but he was not one to shirk responsibility and fish for excuses. He'd point the finger of blame on his Black blood, but he had spent his life up until now convincing the world he was not like the rest of his family. Though he was sure the world was saying how he was destined to fall this way.
He was not a victim of his own blood, he was proud of his heritage though his upbringing had not been the best. He was the last Black, that was something to be pleased about, there was nothing but his mindset to blame, he was crying out for vengeance, and surely, that was enough. "Shouldn't you be guarding the door as is your job instead of skimming stones into the ocean, however calming and alleviating that may be?" He chided in a voice that would be gentle if not for the underlying trace of malice that was threatening to overtake his tone. "You do not want a dangerous criminal to make to the mainland," he threatened, "that would be a disaster, what would the minister say?" His tone told the man there was nothing he could do to stop him reaching the mainland.
The man said nothing and went to lunge at him but found he could not move, indeed Sirius had rooted him to the spot with his will, he would not stir until Sirius wanted him to, the fear shown on his face reached new heights. "What's the matter, have you recognised me?" He knew that he had, nobody had icy blue eyes like his and a fierce complexion to match the darkness he felt in his soul. "Frightening isn't it, to look into someone's eyes and know you are going to get your just desserts and know you can do absolutely... nothing... about it. I almost feel sorry for you," his voice was soft, but it fooled no one, the threat in it rang loud and clear, "almost," he stressed. One cannot feel compassion for a monster, that he had been taught, Azkaban was a place of learning.
"You know what it is like to hold someone's fate in your hands, to be in complete control, now you get to learn what it was like for me. Once one has dressed in black, they must find it exceedingly difficult to go back, perhaps now I am finally beginning to understand the Dark Lord whom everyone believes I follow." Sirius viewed his complexion in the glassy reflects of the guard's eyes, once he can see through the fear and confusion the grey eyes are laced with that is. The newspaper cloak covers his body, billowing out behind him, covering his face from view; he has never seen anyone like this, never seen anyone who is threatening and dangerous that was not dressed in prison clothes and locked behind cold, iron bars. He thought he was the strongest around, that nobody could touch him, there was the possibility he was right.
His small smile of malice widens as it curls around his lips as Gate Master starts to quiver; 'I like this feeling of power'. The hate, bitterness and anger stirs within him, yes, this man's fear is fully justified. One does not get fed too much in Azkaban and Sirius could say that most of the occupants do not deserve good treatment. The staff do not want them to get strong, after all, many of them are masterminds, if they start to eat enough to gain strength they might start to do dangerous things such as think. Thoughts plagued him now, terrible, wonderful, dangerous thoughts as he stood there before the frozen gate master. 'This man withheld my meals,' as meagre as the morsels he was fed as it was were. then the memories came flooding, like water from a broken tap, filling him with terrible, glorious fury, bitterness and hate.
'This is the man who came along to my cell three or four times a week to jeer at me or threaten me with the kiss. While he is nothing compared to dementors and I always smiled patiently through his jibes like I did with Severus at school (although admittedly I bullied him first and always had the final laugh as I had allies then), I still feel resentment for him. Well maybe a little more than resentment, one thing I cannot stand in this world are sadists. This man whose name I never bothered to learn took enjoyment in seeing my pain and my fear and here I am now repaying the favour in earnest.' Sirius' eyes narrowed in his anger, 'he will rue the day he heard of the name Black, but he will not rue it for long,' pale lips curled upwards.
'He tormented me as best as he could for a year, and why should he not? After all, I am a murderer as far as he knows and I deserve whatever he wants to give me right? That is what the whole world believes. I cannot hold that against him. But so what, he and I, or at least the character the world has grown to believed belongs to me are not too different. While he has not used an unforgiveable or done the deed himself he has sentenced hundreds to a fate worse than death, threatened others, and not even blinked in the face of it all. He could say he was just following orders, but he had his own mind and will, he should use them. It was not just him either, I cannot even conceive of z way to make the world that abandoned me feel the pain I've felt.'
'He paid special attention to torturing me while I was living in hell. Not allowing me the privileges of a working loo or a sink so I had to live in my own excrement. Not allowing me light, blindfolding me and gagging me for days so I could not even scream to myself to alleviate the boredom of such complete nothingness in my days in the dark. Jabbing me with his wand that he had modified so the end was as hot as a poker and branding me dozens of times, laughing while he did so, leaving me to waste the reserves of magic I had built up over the week to heal. Now this, I can hold against him. Like I said, sadist, he deserved the worst punishment I can think of. My only regret is that I do not have a year of free time to punish him.'
Sirius stalked over predatorily, feeling more wolf than human as he stared down at him, 'my prey.' The dog inside him had taken control for extended periods whilst locked in prison, it had been clawing and yowling for release so it could attack those it deemed a threat like animals do. Sirius let it have mental reign again and felt his eyes narrow and his canines lengthen as he viewed the man before him. His fingers grew curled as the nails lengthened to claws. He clenched and unclenched one hand and the man went flying into the air, twisting and writhing as the pain of a wordless 'crucio' contorts his disgusting body. He let out a sigh of contentment, 'no, I do not find amusement in torture; I just have a very strong feeling of justice and like to be the one to deal it.'
He snapped his fingers and turned away, leaving him to drop into the icy waters below. Sirius did not know whether he fell unconscious upon impact or whether he angled his body into a dive to avoid it. He did not know whether he will find the cold water too much to bear or whether the magic pumping through his veins will keep him going. He did not know whether he will drown in the crashing waves or whether he will manage to swim to safety. He did not know how far he dropped him out to sea; he was not paying attention to such details so he did not know the likeliness of his survival. In answer to all aforementioned listed uncertainties, he did not care. If he died it did not affect him, and if he survived, well, hopefully he'd learnt a valuable lesson about torturing those stronger than him.
Sirius turned his eyes to the dark waters surrounding the prison and contemplated how best to escape. Swimming is not out of the question although it would be very hard given the cold water and the crashing waves and the distance he'd have to travel. Unlike the guard he just dropped, his fate was one he cared about a great deal. He could not apparate from here, there is a reason why nobody has ever broken out of Azkaban before, he doubted if even Merlin himself could have defied these wards. He was not sure how far they spread, he could swim until he felt himself pass the barrier and then apparate he supposed, it is safe to say no ferries pass by this area. 'Yet I am not diving into the water, (though one cannot blame me) I am just staring at it, desperately trying to think of other options.
Swimming is the most obvious method but it would be slow, and tiring, and require a lot of physical exertion with not much food to feed it. The most obvious and possibly the easiest method requires no imagination and are for people who only think about the end goal and pay no heed to how to get there. Flair and style were by no means important to him in this instance; he can worry about his looks once he was out of immediate danger, for if he was caught now he would almost certainly be given the kiss at once. However, he had to say he would rather not get his only clothes of the moment dripping wet with ice cold water and stumble ashore too tired to be rid of them or dry himself and die of hypothermia before he was able to have done anything.
'No, I need a mode of transport,' it did not have to be very good, after all, Azkaban is only 6 miles out to sea from a muggle populated area and while he did have no idea how far the barriers stretched, he doubted that it is all the way to shore. Sirius snapped his fingers in a moment of inspiration, Azkaban must have dulled his common sense, how could a creator of the Marauder's Map miss a God blessing so obvious? The gate master as he had taken to calling the possibly forevermore nameless man he might have just drowned a moment ago, had a little house situated on the grounds of Azkaban a little ways away from the main compound. It was no more than a hut, smaller than Hagrid's hut, he had heard, but he had to live nearby given his occupation, however small, that must contain something useful.
The hut was not too hard to find, and as expected, was a God send. First of all it had a charm so it was bigger on the inside, more room to store little treasures. It contained numerous goodies just waiting for nimble fingers to pinch, not that they would be any use to a dead man anyway. It was rather cluttered as it was not that much bigger on the inside than it was out, but the first thing he found was the reason as to why the man was so rotund. A stack of food was piled high in one portion of the room, fine breads and thick slabs of dried meat among copious amounts of wine. Sugary treats were in there as well in between the muggle savoury treats the man had collected. There were things he had not seen since Lily (may she rest in peace) was at school.
Crisps, chocolates, onion rings, biscuits, boiled sweets...sherbet lemons. Sending a quick prayer for the man to live for being the provider of such good fortune, he dug into the best meal he'd had in a year with vigour. He would unabashedly admit that he unceremoniously stuffed his face with the goodies that he found. He opened a bottle of wine with his teeth and pouring the entirety of the contents down his throat, not caring in the least that it tasted a little like vinegar even though he was usually a mean of refined tastes. He licked his fingers for the remains of the salt and sugar and grease on his skin. 'If mother could see me now'... actually thinking about it, he'd just killed a man and escaped the supposedly most impenetrable building in Britain, she'd be nothing but proud of the son she spent so long loathing and abusing.
After the meal he sorted through the rest of Gate Master's belongings, he stole the money; there was not much there, only about 20 galleons and 5 sickles. Sirius frowned, that was only enough to buy a couple of outfits, and not from madam Malkins or somewhere just as expensive. Sirius would daresay he was low on clothes, and a hot meal would not go amiss either, provided he went somewhere cheap. Gate Master must keep the rest of his money in Gringotts, smart man; still, it was better than nothing. Finally after a couple more minutes of searching I found what I was looking for, the man owned a broomstick, a shooting star, that was quite a good model, although new, bigger, brighter, lighter, faster, better brooms were invented every season, next year something else would be all the rage he was sure.
Still it was better than nothing and would serve its purpose as a mode of transport nicely, he was not going to be playing a game of Quidditch on it after all, he was just getting off the Godforsaken island quickly and safely. What did the man have a broom for? He guessed it was something to ease the boredom when he was tired of skipping stones, he would testify that there was nothing quite like flying, many an hour he and James would be found in his garden or the Quidditch pitch when they were at school. A broom was an unexpected and welcomed find; the best he'd hoped for was a piece of wood he could transfigure into a raft or something. A broom would get him to shore in no time, after all, a broom was a magical instrument and was therefore something one cannot transfigure unless it is for sweeping.
Suddenly an unpleasant feeling made itself known in the pit of his stomach and he lurched forward and spilled the contents of his gut all over the carpeted floor and sent an accusing glare at the remainder of the posh food still piled in the corner. It would seem a year of living off stale bread and watery gruel had changed his biology to the point he was no longer able to eat fine food or great quantities of it. Good Merlin it would be like weaning all of over again. He would break himself into a finer life style slowly, for now he had to make do with mere mouthfuls of food at a time so as not to upset his stomach, which was ok, he had years to recover. He greatly enjoyed the meal, just not so much the second time round.
He found a backpack in the corner, small, but no holes in; Merlin knows what he used it for. In that corner he also found a pile of plain yet comfortable clothes which he reduced in size and stole all of the outfits he owned, they'd be easily replaced. The gate master was a portly man and Azkaban had reduced his once proud frame into something of a wraith. It was no matter; his core would keep him going until he recovered to more than he was before. Next, he grabbed the remaining food and stuffed that in too, while he would not be able to eat much of it he could have a couple of mouthfuls of the finer items with each meal of bread he will be living off for the next couple of months, it would be difficult to go and buy food with little hassle for a long time.
Sirius was a man of principle; always had been, a glance told him nothing else was worth taking. Slinging the bag onto his back and casting a feather light charm on it so it would not prove a hindrance while he was flying to freedom, he commanded the broom to fly up into his hand, with a confident smirk he strode out of the tiny abode as if he owned it. He flung one leg over the broom and kicked off into the air, as soon as he was off the ground memories of his quidditch days came back to him and the familiar feel of the air rushing past him exhilarated him to a point where beyond description. Flying had felt like freedom to him long before he ever experienced captivity, for a creature of the Earth, being in the sky he felt surprisingly in his element.
Sirius rose higher and higher and then sped off into the night, resisting the urge to put his fist before him like Superman, a cartoon character Lily had been very fond of in her first year. This memory brought a smile to his lips, James had been jealous of her attraction to the actor who played him and consequently made it his mission to look like him until such a time Lily would realise her affections for the idiot. Of course what really made her like him was him growing up and ceasing his torment of her friend, their enemy, Severus Snape. A grim smile settles on the gaunt face at his memory, one of his greatest regrets was turning him to the dark side although admittedly it was temporarily, he became a spy rather quickly.
Sirius could not help but think that if only he had made an effort to be nicer to the boy and accepted his friendship with their Lily then he would have not become a death eater and may have even proven to be a useful friend to have. From the age of twelve he'd been an accomplished potions master, although defence against the dark arts was what he was really after even if he did not excel in it as much as he did in potions and certainly not as much as James and him. But they had been kids, they did not think like that at such an age, he had been full of malice even then, but lacked the wisdom to hold back. Then suddenly all thought and brooding is knocked out of him as he hit a barrier, an unexpected and problematic obstacle in the path to freedom.
It makes him recoil a bit, and, frowning, he extends his hand again and punched it; there is a barrier like glass surrounding the whole place. No, it must be possible to get out, or how did the Gate Master get to shore so often to get his food? He might be dead already so he was not going to go back and waste time that could be better used escaping to find him for a password, there has to be another way. Sirius flew higher, but once he was almost a mile in the air he hit another barrier, so the perimeter is enclosed, Sirius ground his teeth together in irritation. Well, can't go over it, can't go round it, can't go through it, got to go under it... as unpleasant as that may be. I bite my lip in apprehension, a habit I have not practised since I was a child.
Sirius looked down distastefully at the dark, raging water below; well at least it will only be for a little while, a small price to pay for eventual lasting freedom really, after all, before the, now blindingly obvious inspiration struck him he had been prepared to swim the whole distance anyway. Sirius was strong enough to do it even without any food; he was running on adrenaline which is an even more powerful force. With a grim smile and a sarcastic 'good luck' to himself despite the fact that the only one who will be in danger or compromised or involved in this quest in any way is himself, he positioned the broom into a diving pose and shot towards the water. He had a slight feeling of trepidation and closed his eyes just before he was deep within the icy depths.
Sirius kept his mouth shut to stop himself from letting out a gasp of shock and slight pain so as not to force air out of his lungs and let the water in. He forced himself to keep the broom going forward, it is slower in the water but he kept flying under it for as long as he could hold his breath, then bam, he soared through the barrier like a rocket. He felt the magic pass over him like a shroud and tentatively started to rise up into the sky, water dripping of his form, 'I'm out.' He smiled as he rose higher, shaking the water off like the dog he was inside and let his head tip back, relishing in the feel of the night air. 'I am free!' They were such wonderful words, "I am free!"
A laugh breaks through his throat and it is not the crazy maniacal laughter he had been experiencing when arrested, nor was it the malicious uncharacteristic laughter and wide smiles he'd sported in Azkaban when thinking about serving just desserts to those who forsake him. Suddenly a great torrent of it is released as if it had been building up the last twelve months. It is true, pure laughter, untainted laugher, brought on by true, pure, untainted feelings. Sirius loop the looped and sped forward, remembering his days as a keeper, and playing James (may he rest in peace and never be forgotten) in the back garden of his parents' home. His second home, he had been allowed to spend the summer and all the other holidays for that matter there until he disowned himself from his family at sixteen and was then unofficially adopted by them.
He would miss James terribly, but those carefree days may not be over, because the Prongslet was still alive. He would personally see to it that he gets the life he deserved, had fun, learnt well, was loved and became a true master on the broom like his father. Thoughts of Harry filled his head and he sped faster and faster into the night, 10 miles an hour, 20 miles an hour, 30 miles an hour, 40, should probably not go faster than that. No longer was he hidden from muggle sight or unable to apparate, but he was having far too much fun to care about that. He soared up high into the clouds to remain hidden, he was already sodden. Once up there, the canine within let out a long, loud howl of elation and even if he wanted to he could not hold it in.
It was the early hours of the morning when Sirius landed on the ground and he looked around, always the man of principle he listed his most basic needs in his head, he needed to sleep but he couldn't just go up to the nearest inn and ask for a room as he was meant to be in jail, unless he asked for a muggle room. Then again he did not have any muggle money yet and nobody was out at this time of night for him steal from. He judged the houses, looking from left to right and transformed into a dog. Nobody gave people anything for free, but he was not below accepting charity as another. He belly crawled up to a small house with a fire burning in the living room, raised his paw and gently scratched at the door.
An elderly man answered the door, he was dressed in a dressing gown and slippers and as hoped, he took one look at the whining dog and his heart melted. "What you doing out here all alone boy? You Lost?" Sirius gave him his best whine and nudged the man's hand giving it a quick lick. "Come in boy," he said standing aside, "you must be frozen and exhausted, let's get you by the fire." The man was very good to him, and within minutes he found himself stretched out by a fire, warmer than he had felt in a whole year, a bowl of milk by his side, now lapped empty, and a bowl of cooked meat, at least the man had not tried to feed him dog food and hopefully he would not try to.
The next day the man took a picture of him and showed it to him. He did not need to feign animalistic interest; he truly was amazed by how motionless he was before reminding himself it was a muggle contraption. "I'll send this to the newspapers and with any luck your owners will be around to pick you up in no time at all." Sirius yawned, no one would be around to pick him up, he was not worried, the only one who would recognise him like this was Remus, and then only possibly, even his dog form had changed a lot. As far as he knew, Remus did not read muggle local papers, hopefully not for this area anyway, that would be a massive stroke of bad luck and an end to the tirade of the good luck he'd been enjoying so far.
"What would you like to eat today boy?" The old man said as he poured himself some cereal, "got no dog food so you'll just have to make do with chicken roll, think I still got some left, a big boy like yourself is going to eat me out of house and home, and you really need to fatten up, ah well, I've got no one else to spend my retirement on." The old man enjoyed talking to him and Sirius obediently listened to his chatter at all times of the day. It was not annoying, in fact Sirius welcomed to hear the voice of another after a year of solitude, at least, away from appreciative and appreciated presence and Sirius even enjoyed his short life as a house pet, he really could not have picked a better house to leech off for a while.
He stayed with the old man, who was not really that old, only about sixty five, for about a month and a half. The old man grew attached to him which was a bit silly really but Sirius played up to him because he was getting a free three meals a day as well as the food he had from the backpacks which he gradually ate during nighttimes when he turned back into a human. He never purchased dog food as he claimed it looked disgusting and Sirius readily agreed, and fed him on cooked meat, burgers, chicken, turkey, whatever he could find. Sirius slowly started to gain weight and though he had been sick when he first came to him, his immune system started to strengthen and he was more robust as a dog anyhow.
His 'master' had bad knees so did not take him out for walks, which was another plus, he was not entirely sure if he could have dealt with that embarrassment, and he slept by the fire each night. If he truly was a dog, this was the house he would want to go to. He was a truly good man and therefore Sirius had to feel bad at being nothing but a nuisance to him. He had shamelessly accepted everything he was given. He had not been forced to do something embarrassing, except urinating in the back garden and now the man was going to wake up to find someone had taken his money and his dog, whom he loved. Dogs were only a reservoir of love because they were loved; he hated this crushing feeling of guilt weighing down on his heart like this.
He'd make it up to him though, one day. He promised.