AN- This is story is going to start from third year AU(HP universe perspective) where harry is two years older than canon and is in his fourth year. All the adventures he had till now are with Katie and Leanne in this fic. OF course the pairing remains my favourite: Harry/Fleur or Flowerpot.

I would also like to give a big thanks to the flowerpot discord server in helping me write this story, the link to the server could be found through reddit.

Despair and darkness. Pain and suffering. Never-ending agony. Sadness. These were the feelings most commonly associated with the prison of Azkaban. People assumed, guessed, drew inferences, they were wrong, the reality was much worse.

A thunderstorm brewed almost daily on this side of the island, enveloping the prison in bleak, grey clouds. The downpour was not simply rain-water, or so they thought. It was common belief that every drop was designed to strip away a person's sanity- delving them deep into the cold. The cold was heart-wrenching, reaching deep into the bones of each inmate until they could think of nothing else. The cold occupied their very soul, wrangling the warmth out of it. A sign that they were being worn down, that there was no light at any time of the day, or in any corner of the prison..

The Azkaban guards, trained professionals, had never gotten used to it, and some minded their own business. But the others, it seemed, never quite got their fill of making the prisoners' lives a living hell- such was their way to cope with the emptiness brought on by the island.. The guards also had their favorite prisoner, Sirius Black. He wasn't your run-of-the-mill prisoner, not by a long shot.. People taunted him during monthly visits and any other opportunity they got, especially on special occasions, but he had somehow managed to survive. His living conditions were far from luxurious, bordering on adequate. . Fortunately, the guards at the prison decided to have mercy on his poor soul- not keeping him in an isolation cell. They even got him company- things to spend time with, albeit in the form of dementors. It was astounding, a miracle even- he was able to maintain coherent speech throughout the entire ordeal. This news was gaining traction among the ministry workers as it defied precedence. Most couldn't even speak for weeks after being in the presence of dementors, let alone hold intelligible conversation.

But there are always reasons for the things that sometimes we aren't able to justify by mundane means. Sirius Black was innocent. He had loved and been loved but then he lost, he lost everything precious to him. He did not care about the opinion of the public, or the general consensus about his 'wrong-doings'. All he cared about were the Potters and perhaps that was the thing that kept him going.

He wasn't immune to the dark effects that the prison had on him, but came out with his sanity intact as he latched onto the one thing that was left from his old life. The one thing, person, that he swore to protect.

Harry Potter.

His eyes rolled back in his head as a memory overcame him.

He could see James almost bursting like a small child, his black eyes showing the joy that he had never seen like anywhere before, he rushed towards Sirius, his auror cloak rustling before enveloping him in a hug.

"You can go in now Paddy; Harry's sleeping inside, and looks like the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," It baffled Sirius- how having a child provided such immense joy to James, more than he had ever witnessed, but he was happy for him nonetheless. He had been wanting this for James for so long, and it was satisfying to finally see his happiness come to fruition. James deserved this, and so much more.

"I am so glad, Prongs, let's see the little thing," said Sirius as he pulled out of the hug and tried to drag James towards the room. With a swirl of motion, the memory altered. The vision of James turned into an almost mocking caricature of Albus Dumbledore, the aura around him being rather ominous.

"These are dark times and there is no denying young Mr. Black." The meaning of these words said by Dumbledore eluded him, but he was still able to make out the severity of the situation by his grave tone.

Sirius shook his head, someone was screaming, who was screaming so loudly? Had someone lost their marbles again? He was startled out of his reverie as he felt a cold hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see a dementor gazing upon him with what he could only describe as pity. That was the moment he realized that the screams were his own. In the periphery of his vision he saw blinding lights, he whipped his head sideways and some of his dirty hair came in front of his face. Only to realize there was nothing there. He had loved and loved but lost. He wasn't going down now. He couldn't go down now. Harry was alive. He had not lost everything. Not yet.

All he could think about was keeping the promise he made to Lily, just as he slipped back into the realm of memories.

"You saw her too, right Sirius? The one with the red hair?" asked James as he ran alongside Sirius in the hallways, having bumped into Snape and one of his friends. One of his beautiful friends, one that didn't look all that pleased with him.

"Yeah, I did. Wonder what they were up to, she looked downright murderous.." Came his reply, as they reached the great hall and took a seat at their house table.

"Nah, I think she was awesome."

"Delusional you are, James, delusional. Isn't that right, Peter?" He asked as he turned towards the chubby little boy. But suddenly he started changing, his face grew more rat-like, he became older and fatter.

"Peter?"

"How could you, Sirius?! How could you betray Lily and James?" screamed the rat animagus. "They were our friends, and you betrayed them!"

" Bombarda !"

Sirius laughed, he laughed loudly, so lost in grief and sadness that he no longer cared that he was laughing. He was being blamed for committing crimes he didn't commit, but that didn't bother him. What bothered him was that Peter took his happiness away, his love away, his life away. At that moment he had forgotten about being a godfather, or his own life had turned to hell. He loved and loved and only lost in return. Screeching of the cell gates came only once a month and every time it happened he had a harder time believing there were people other than him that still lived and breathed. Today, he was startled to hear the minister's voice.

"Still laughing Black? Should've known that you wouldn't be any different than Regulus. He was also…"

He tuned out the minister. Regulus? He had heard that name before.

"Are you afraid, Regulus?"

"Of what?"

"Death."

"Oh, no, I'm not"

"Really? Why not?"

"Because. Most people would imagine Death to be this cruel, dark, monstrous deity that haunts everyone, turning their dreams into nightmares- awaiting their demise. Me, well, I imagine Death to be this beautiful woman. Her eyes wouldn't be lifeless, instead, full of hope and love. Her touch would be soft and delicate. She would emerge from the dark shadowy corner of the room and glide gracefully over to you. I don't think she'd cut me with a scythe, no. I think she'd pull me into a strong, lovingly tight hug, where she would stroke my head and calm me. She wouldn't take me to heaven or hell, but she'd take me home. Where I can finally be happy Sirius. I can finally be happy, no obligations to be a good son, no pressure to hate muggles without a reason. Just peace."

He broke into tears. The memory of his long gone brother broke him, his composure.

"Laughing one second and crying the other, you have lost it haven't you Black?" the Minister asked quietly as he unfurled the newspaper and began to read.

Yes, he had started crying. He was beginning to forget his family. He and Regulus had never been on the best of terms, but that did not mean he wanted to forget the man. As he tried to clear his head, tried to remember anything else he might have forgotten, something caught his eye...

He saw the moving image of the Weasley's on the front page, but that wasn't what drew his attention. His eye was captured by their family pet, a rat. A rat. Held with it's stomach up, you could see it missing one of it's fingers.

Sirius felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time- desire. A desire for vengeance, for retribution. A desire for freedom, a desire to protect. He had a new goal.

End Notes- If you liked the story then please review and fav!