A/N I am always so appreciative of the people who are reading and enjoying the stories. So many of you have taken the time to review and give me feedback since the start and it is so very helpful. I'm also just humbled by the number of new reviewers! Thank you very much!
I would like to ask if you all would prefer longer chapters or faster updates. Sometimes it can't be helped. If a chapter is flowing, it is flowing. But as a rule, what do you prefer?
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Howarts - February 1977
When Peter Pettigrew scampered down to breakfast that morning, it was not his intention to start a chain reaction of events that would ultimately contribute to Sirius Black's imprisonment.
It had started out just as every other morning had following Sirius' surprise expulsion from the inner circle of the Marauders. Less than a fortnight had passed since the student body, minus one very significant greasy haired boy, was plunged into complete darkness regarding the jaw dropping break amongst the iron clad quartet.
As usual in any boarding school setting, where time was plentiful and gossip a dietary staple of life, the rumor mill was in heavy production, rife with speculation. With stories being bandied about containing wild guesses that ranged anywhere from Sirius embracing his family's ideals of blood purity and turning on the two half bloods and the pure blood in love with a muggle born (from the more generous side of speculation) to a fallout over a lover's quarrel between Sirius and James (from the greatly less than generous side).
None of the students would have ever had the creative imagination to hazzard a correct guess of what had actually transpired that night in the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack.
One thing that was perfectly clear was the obvious discomfort and distress between Sirius and the other three boys. Although Sirius was making a good job of steering directly clear of them, he was never too far away, the pained looks that he shot in their direction visible to anyone that took the time to notice. As for the other boys, their faces displayed a myriad of emotions.
Little Peter, in typical fashion, twitched nervously as he trailed the other two through the hallowed corridors, eyes blinking rapidly, not seeming to know what to do with himself. Remus' face held a near constant state of melancholy and he was the only one of the three to make any attempt at all to approach Sirius. Unfortunately, Sirius seemed to have developed a habit of late of paling and bolting whenever the mild mannered brunette took a step in his direction.
But it was the behavior of James that completely confunded the student body. Clearly the closest to Sirius of the three, he was seen to let his attention wander towards his best mate several times during the school day, a genuine sadness apparent on his face.
To the casual observer, James and Sirius would lock gazes, pained hazel to pleading gray, only to have James square his jaw, eyes growing cold and dismissive as he turned away sharply, leaving Sirius to flinch as if he had been physically struck.
To the careful observer, one could then see Remus' normally calm countenance crinkle into a small frown of disapproval, but if he ever uttered a vocal reproach, it was never heard.
So, on this most normal of recently abnormal days, no one seemed to notice anything unusual about Sirius entering the Great Hall for breakfast accompanied only by Frank Longbottom, or James and Remus pausing in the corridor for a moment to chat with Lily Evans, or even Peter being approached by one Miss Anita Skeeter.
***
If there was one unwritten rule between the Marauders, it was that while everyone else at school was fair game for pranking and mischief, they never pranked each other. For the most part, this rule was sacred and universally followed. But, like all things in nature, the dynamic in their little group did not necessarily or flawlessly translate into a relationship of four equal parts.
Each boy made a contribution to the quartet of his own inherent gifts. James brought his good humor and easy going ways. Sirius added his mischievous nature and his supreme self confidence and Remus tempered the first two boys with his gentle manner and sense of responsibility.
But, for Peter's part, the smaller boy did not have any natural gift to bring to the table. His family wasn't well off like the Potters or Blacks. He wasn't academically gifted like any of the other three. He certainly was no physical specimen to be feared or admired.
No, Peter did not have a lot to recommend him except for his fortunate sorting into Gryffindor and his uncanny ability, even at that young age, to ferret out the most likely candidates for power and popularity amongst the hierarchy of students.
At only eleven years of age, James Potter and Sirius Black already exuded the strong self image of natural born leaders. Gravitating towards each other like magnets on the very first day riding the Hogwarts Express, their friendship had firmly cemented itself long before the crimson steam engine pulled into the Hogsmeade station.
At the welcoming feast following the sorting, the two black haired boys held court amongst the other new arrivals. It didn't take long for either of them to become intrigued with the slight framed brunette sitting across from them, his amber eyes sparkling mischeiviously as they engaged him in a battle of wits that he soon won, along with their respect. And thus, Remus Lupin became the third member of their set.
Observing quietly from a few seats away, little Peter shrewdly deduced that these were the boys to fall into line with. He followed them everywhere, ingratiating himself into their little circle, shamelessly flattering them and looking at them with eyes that bordered on hero-worship.
Given the natural dispositions of the other three boys, it wasn't all that hard to become the fourth member of the group.
Remus was of a nature to like everyone, and the fawning little boy who worked so hard for their approval inspired a fondness in him. Even though they were the same age, James, an only child, looked at Peter as the nerdy little brother he never had and he adopted him as one.
For his part, Sirius enjoyed having a built-in gushing fan base in the smaller boy. Unfortunately for Peter, Sirius already had experience being a big brother and, as such, treated him as he treated Regulus, with a small measure of affection along with a rather larger dose of teasing and sport. James and Remus allowed it, so Peter endured it, knowing that it was unwise to go against Sirius when clearly his closeness to James would likely result Peter's expulsion from the group if he rocked the boat.
And so it was among them, and so it had continued to be right up to the point when, on the night of a full moon, Sirius made the colossal mistake of sending Severus Snape into the tunnel towards the transforming Remus.
**
Peter may have been able to pick out the winning horses in the popularity race, but that was where his ability to read people ended.
In his mind, friendships could never be repaired once broken. His own painful experience of being cast out from his muggle primary school set serving as a primary example. His past as a disloyal nine year old who chose the safer path of tattling on his friends to the matron, rather than standing with them after a prank turned sour, may have saved his backside from the thrashing that the other two boys received, but it destroyed any chance he had of companionship for the rest of his time at school.
The nervously awaited arrival of his Hogwarts letter had been a mercy to the shunned child. To be fair, it had been a relief to his mother as well. A not terribly gifted witch herself, she had lived on the outskirts of wizarding society after her less than stellar graduation from Hogwarts, taking employment and refuge in a lower class village where she eventually met and married Peter's very muggle father.
Mr. Pettigrew may have accepted his wife's curious background in theory, but the practice of magic was almost non-existent in their household and he preferred it that way right up until the day he passed away when his son was seven. And if Peter's mother grew nail bitingly anxious at the complete lack of even the smallest demonstration of accidental magic from her son, she never voiced her concerns out loud. The word squib floated around in her mind like a stain of shame and caused her to withdraw into the muggle world even further.
The day she saw the post owl in the distance, she wept in relief even before the thick creamy envelope was delivered into the shaking hands of her solitary son and she kept up a constant mantra of giving thanks to Merlin during their entire shopping trip to Diagon Alley that Peter would be given a chance at the success in life that had eluded her.
It was this background of his earlier life that caused Peter to mistakenly assume that Sirius' exile from the Marauders was permanent.
For no other reason would he have risked the wrath of the other three, regardless of his own secret desire to finally have one over on the bigger boy that teased him mercilessly. How was he to know that Remus, with his gentle ways, had already forgiven Sirius for a momentary lapse of judgment? How was he to deduce that James' hostile air was due soley to the fierce loyalty he felt was owed to their werewolf friend regardless of how much his estrangement from Sirius pained him?
Had Peter realized all of this, he would not have been so quick to assume that the time had come for a small measure of personal payback. Had he been the tiniest bit more aware of the actual dynamic between his friends, he would perhaps have been a tad more hesitant to accept that little sickly sweet smelling vial from the love struck Anita.
**
Although separated by several years, the Skeeter sisters were as alike as two peas in a pod. The pair were as ambitious as any politician, driven more than professional athletes, as deluded as the residents of St. Mungo's permanant ward and each possessed hearts as dark as the natural roots of their bleached blond hair.
Rita had finished stampeding through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts some eight years earlier, bullying and ingratiating herself into a position with the wizarding press and dispensing snippets of news and interviews with lead pipe cruelty. Anita adoringly followed in her big sister's stiletto footprints. A slightly less pushy girl, what she lacked in brazenly wielding a verbal machete, she more than made up for with her innate talent for Machiavellian manipulations.
What Anita wanted, Anita somehow always seemed to get, regardless of the tactics that she had to employ to succeed. What she wanted right now was Sirius Black and, with his obvious ostracization from his close knit group of friends, now seemed like perfect opportunity to strike.
Anita watched her prey like a keen huntress as he shuffled into the Great Hall for breakfast. Sirius' usually proud and straight shoulders were more hunched these days, the sadness in his eyes dampening the effect of his normally blinding handsomeness. Not that Anita minded whatsoever. In her eyes, the thrill of the hunt was not lessened by any hobbling that her quarry might be suffering. She enjoyed a quick kill.
The gods must have been smiling on her that day as she watched the second piece of the puzzle fall into place. Walking alone towards the Gryffindor table was little Peter Pettigrew, a member of Sirius' former set and the boy that had been putty in her hand on a number of different occasions since they began their time at school together.
She knew that Peter harbored a rather large crush on her. She had used this to her advantage more than once over the years, shamelessly batting her eyelashes and stringing him along with obscure implied promises that one day she would succumb to his charms if he pleased her well enough. Friendship with the most popular boys in the school did not translate into the same lovestruck worship for Peter that Sirius and James enjoyed from the female population. Even the studious Remus had to fight off more than his fair share of admirers, but Peter's options had been fairly limited, and the crafty Anita played him like a maestro with a Stradivarius.
Sidling up to the chubby short boy like the Slytherin that she was, she spoke into his ear with a breathy whisper, her words enticing him with their seductive warmth and scented with her strawberry lip gloss. By the time she pressed the small vial of Amortentia into his sweating palm, he was already completely convinced that his well endowed partner in crime's intention was to humiliate Sirius, nothing more, and he readily agreed to do his part.
****
Sirius was completely at a loss as to why he had never noticed the ravishing Anita Skeeter before. He must have been blind! A fool! An undeserving wretch who should content himself merely with walking in her perfectly proportioned shadow!
While he trailed after the decidedly ordinary looking blond like an obedient puppy, Peter had to fight to repress the full belly laugh that threatened to burst forward, even as James and Remus watched the newly acquired antics of their disgraced friend with more than a little curious concern. No one knew Sirius as well as James and Remus and, even in their annoyance with him, neither boy could rationally reconcile the image of him panting after a girl that had never garnered more than a casual glance in passing.
Something was up.
It wasn't that they were trying to exclude Peter from the musings out of any sort of malice. Quite the contrary. To their credit, James and Remus knew very well how Peter felt about Anita so, in deference to his feelings, they kept the conversation regarding Sirius' unusual behavior between themselves. Shamefully, James had entertained a fleeting second of thought that Sirius might be acting that way to intentionally hurt Peter with his new attentions towards Anita, but he quickly banished the idea and mentally chastised himself.
While Sirius may act impulsively on occasion, James knew better than to think that he would ever do something so intentionally hurtful.
The two boys watched Sirius for almost two days as he relentlessly glued himself to Anita's side, becoming even more horrified and desperate to figure out what was going on with their friend after Anita announced to anyone that would listen that Sirius had begged her to accompany him to the St. Valentine's Ball, the highlight of the school calendar.
Choking on his morning pumpkin juice while hearing the girls buzz about the news, James spun around to give Sirius a good hard look and just managed to catch Peter pulling away from Sirius' goblet, stashing a vial into the pocket of his robe and looking incredibly guilty.
"Peter," he hissed, his hazel eyes squinting in accusation,"what, in Merlin's name, did you put into his goblet?"
He didn't get a satisfactory answer from the fidgeting boy as, at that minute, Sirius chose to pick up his breakfast beverage.
"Padfoot! Don't drink that!" James commanded, earning a surprised look from Remus, a shocked look from Sirius and a grimace of discomfort from Peter.
Sirius, his mind still slightly foggy with the effects of three days of drugging, reeled from the unexpected use of his affectionate nickname and dropped the goblet back onto the table with a thunk, spilling a small splash of it onto the worn wood. Remus, getting up to speed that something was amiss, grabbed the shiny gold cup and wafted it slightly under his nose. The human boy in him immediately smelled chocolate, the leather of antique book bindings and butterbeer, but the wolf in him could sense the raw ingredients of what was clearly a love potion.
"Amortentia," he uttered quietly and James turned to Peter with a look of absolute fury in his eyes.
***
The truce between the Marauders was officially declared in the corridor outside the Great Hall less than one hour after Peter was caught spiking Sirius' pumpkin juice.
James felt the same betrayed anger towards Peter that he had against Sirius, his desire to protect an injured party once again forcing him to turn against someone he considered a good friend. Under different circumstances, that might have been the end for Peter's inclusion into the group, but Sirius was too grateful for the unconditional forgiveness that he was granted without a second thought, Remus was too tired of all the infighting among his best friends and Peter's frantic pleading for what he called a harmless prank was too pitiful to further fuel James' resentment.
Unfortunately, it was also too late to stop Anita's deluded scheming.
Within minutes of Sirius' drug induced invitation to the Ball, Anita was fire calling her older sister with the news that the very eligible Sirius Black was going to be her escort to the school year's hottest event. Several passersby were in imminent danger of being permanently deafened by the stereo squealing of the two hyper witches as they discussed details.
Less than an hour later, Anita had a coveted appointment with a wizarding couture designer for dress robes and Rita had called in every favor she was owed to make sure that her little sister's big night was prominently covered by the Daily Prophet. In their pure blood, old family dominated society, Anita's very public association with a member of one of the oldest and most powerful families could make the reputation and fortunes of both girls. Sirius' estrangement from his family was not spoken about in polite society, and as the Blacks had not yet given up on their heir seeing the error of his ways some day, an alliance with him was still longed for as if he were royalty.
It would be the Skeeter sisters moment of triumph and they wanted everyone to know it.
***
Disaster. A complete and utter disaster. The humiliation almost too much to be born.
It wasn't Sirius' fault. In all honesty, under the circumstances, he had behaved much more like a well bred gentleman than he really should have been expected to. Most of the other boys at Hogwarts would have shook with fury when discovering how badly they had been duped with a potion. After all, he had publicly followed Anita around like a love sick puppy for days before discovering the morning spikings of his juice.
However, Sirius was by far too happy over his renewed friendship with the other Marauders to be angry with anything or anyone at the moment. That, coupled with the fact that he was genuinely a nice boy, prevented him from doing anything to Anita in retaliation. In an example of his extreme good naturedness, he even tried to be as pleasant as possible to the slightly off balanced girl, assuring her that there were no hard feelings.
What more could she possibly expect?
Life went on at Hogwarts for the rest of that week as the rest of the school prepared for the upcoming Ball. The hallowed hallways were festively decorated with hearts and roses and Professor Dumbledore had even imported actual Cupids to flit about, imbuing everyone with happiness and romance with their potion tipped arrows. The Marauders were a firm quartet again and Sirius easily slipped back into the groove, his mood well improved enough to have his nicest dress robes pressed for the occasion.
The night of the affair, all four boys strutted forth towards the Great Hall, their chosen ladies on their arms, looking forward to an evening of unabashed frivolity. In a rare display of congeniality, Lily had even consented to accompany James and he puffed out his chest like a proud pasha, every two minutes snatching a glance at the stunning redhead by his side and flushing with pride. Laughing at his best mate practically hyperventilating over his partner, Sirius was thoroughly enjoying himself as he escorted the equally enchanting Marlene McKinnon.
No one was expecting what was waiting for them in the Great Hall.
When the four couples entered, they were practically blinded by the sea of popping flashbulbs provided courtesy of one Rita Skeeter. Intent on securing her sister's position in society, the ambitious junior reporter had descended upon the school with a team of photographers like a plague of locust. The entire photoshoot had been carefully orchestrated and it would surely have been the crowning achievement of the lowly born Skeeter family.
At least, it should have been.
No one, certainly not Rita herself, was expecting little Anita to come raging through the hallways in her ridiculously expensive couture dress robes, her blond curls which had been earlier piled fashionably high on her head spilling every which way as she planted her dainty slipper clad feet on the cold stone floor and squalled like a banshee. No one expected Anita to grab Sirius by the lapels of his dress robe and call him names that no properly raised young lady would dare utter in public. And no one expected to see the crazed girl to turn her attentions to the affronted and completely innocent Marlene and attempt to yank her hair out by the roots before Professor McGonagall stunned her.
No one expected any of that, but that is exactly what happened, and it all happened in full view of the wizarding world's press.
Watching her little sister being carted away to the hospital wing in disgrace, seeing the white hot blaze of flashbulbs recording every humiliating detail for all posterity, something inside Rita Skeeter broke and the withering look she gave the flabbergasted boy in the center of all the commotion would have given a basilisk a run for its money.
She didn't know when, and she didn't know how, but she knew that, one day, she would get revenge for the embarrassment suffered by her beloved little sister. Sirius Black would pay, if it was the last thing that she did.
****
Azkaban Prison, November 1981
Sirius Black, shackled and chained, was beyond caring.
His throat screamed raw with protests that went unheard and unheeded, his body limp from exhaustion, his mind unbalanced with grief and his heart shattered. The floor of his filthy cell in the hell that was Azkaban was littered with the debris and decay of the previous inmate. He neither noticed nor cared about its state. The intense cold and pain he suffered on a full-time basis from the omnipresent dementors almost numbing him into a welcomed blackness.
Everything and everyone had been cruelly ripped away from him in the blink of an eye. His best friend, his brother in all but blood, murdered along with their darling Lily. Betrayed by one that they had embraced as family for a decade. Sirius' precious godson ripped from his very arms, never to be seen again in this lifetime. The last Marauder standing suffering the acute indignity of now knowing that his own loyalty had been suspect, resulting in the scheme gone horribly wrong. An error that Sirius would never finish paying for as long as he lived.
In the haze of his train wreck of a mind, Sirius barely heard the now almost familiar clanking of row after row of doors being opened as someone made their way towards his end of the prison. With a tiny flicker of foresight, he managed to turn himself around, facing away from the barred cell door, ignoring the stench of the moldy mattress and idly staring at a skittering cockroach scratching its way across the floor.
"Enjoying your view, Black?"
Sirius' closed his eyes in disgust from the sound of the detested voice. Bartemius Crouch had managed to find a reason to "visit" him on a daily basis since his arrival to the prison tower and it was he who was responsible for the unique wallcovering of the dank little cell that was to house him for life.
Sirius took a heaving breath and forced himself to open his eyes and allow his gaze to travel up the walls, once more taking in the sight of the sheets of the Daily Prophet. Article after article proclaiming his guilt and overall evilness. The knowledge that he was innocent did not stop him from inflicting himself with the brutal feeling of remorse that everything was indeed his fault, and he almost began to believe the vitriol spewed by every word that Rita Skeeter wrote about him. Her fire and brimstone articles stirring up hatred for him in every corner of the wizarding world.
Denied a fair trial by the Ministry. Convicted in the court of public opinion by a woman scorned. Day after day, Sirius sat in his cell praying for death.
Rita Skeeter had her pound of flesh.