Disclaimer. This is an AU that takes place not too long (at most a year, but more likely less) after Harry's parents died on Hallowe'en and after Sirius ended up in Azkaban.
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WELCOME TO THE MAD HOUSE
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"Minister," Amelia Susan Bones stepped into the office of the Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold, uncaring that the other woman was in the middle of a debriefing of a junior minister from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.
Bagnold looked up and frowned at her.
"Deputy Director Bones," Bagnold said, clearly unhappy at being interrupted by the Deputy Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in her discussion.
Amelia Bones didn't care.
"Minister," she repeated. "Excuse my rudeness, but I need you to compile a writ that ensures that our wardens in Azkaban will be put on sick leave immediately."
"Which warden are you talking about, Deputy Bones?" the Minister asked, a bit concerned that the Deputy Director seemed to be concerned enough that she broke the usual protocol – something that Bones wasn't known for at all.
"All of them," Amelia Bones replied immediately and stepped further into the room. Behind her, the Head Warden of Azkaban also entered. "The situation is extremely serious."
The Head Warden flinched.
"Deputy Director," he whispered, his voice shaking.
Bones paused, looked at the Head Warden, sighed and then corrected herself. "The situation is grave."
The Head Warden relaxed.
The junior minister of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes who was standing next to Bagnold frowned at Amelia Bones. "What kind of situation can be serious –" The Head Warden flinched. "– enough that the Deputy Director of the DMLE herself comes to the Minister without an appointment to demand a writ?"
Amelia Bones frowned.
"Do I know you?" she asked, her eyes trained onto the roundly man standing next to the Minister and questioning her.
"Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes Cornelius Oswald Fudge," he replied quite indignant.
"So, no one important," the Warden next to Amelia Bones concluded.
Fudge blustered.
Amelia on the other hand ignored it and turned towards Bagnold. "The wardens of Azkaban are on the brink of a mental break down," she told the other woman right out. "While the Head Warden already tried to contain the serious situation –" The Head Warden flinched. "– his method of rotating the wardens some more just ensured that more wardens were affected. Sadly, it didn't help at all with the serious thread –" The Head Warden whimpered. "– they are facing."
Bagnold frowned.
"What kind of serious –" "Minister, please!" the Head Warden interrupted her begging. "– happenstance has occurred that you think it best to come here and ask for sick leave for all the wardens of Azkaban?" the Minister asked Bones. "Do you know what kind of serious –" The Head Warden whimpered and hid his head in his hands. "– troubles we will be facing if we do as you say and put all the guards of Azkaban on sick leave at the same time? And I'm not just talking about budget cuts, but also of missing man power!"
"I'm well aware," Amelia Bones agreed with a sigh. "But if we don't do it, we will loose the Wardens to insanity instead. I doubt that St. Mungo's will thank us if they get that many seriously ill –" The Head Warden whimpered "– people at once."
"Please, Deputy Director," the Head Warden spoke up in that moment. "Could you please stop mentioning that word?"
Amelia sighed in exasperation. "It's just a word."
"You wouldn't say that if you were a warden of Azkaban," the Head Warden mumbled.
Fudge stared at the warden.
"If you can't do your job, you should quit," he finally declared arrogantly.
The Head Warden glared. "I've been doing this job for more than forty years," he countered, "and I think I was good at it. But this! This is something else!"
"If you come here and speak of sick leave because of what? A simple word you're afraid off? Then I'm sure you can't do your job!" Fudge declared coolly.
Amelia frowned at the junior minister of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.
"I think you don't have any say in anything here, Mr. Fudge," she said with a frown. "You have no part in the decision to allow the wardens of Azkaban on sick leave with a writ or not."
Fudge puffed up. "I am the possible future Minister of Magic!" he declared. "I'm already in the running for the upcoming election!"
"But you aren't the Minister, yet," the Head Warden countered icily.
"Head Warden, Mr. Fudge, Deputy Director Bones," Bagnold spoke up in that moment. "I think that before we even start the discussion if I agree to the writ, maybe you should share what kind of serious –" The Head Warden sobbed quietly. "– situation is actually happening in Azkaban!"
Amelia looked at the Head Warden who had silent tears running down his cheeks.
"Its… complicated to explain," she finally settled on. "But I will do my best…"
Sirius was sitting in a corner of his cell, shivering.
It was dark outside, but that didn't matter. Sirius had no idea how long he had been in Azkaban. It could have been days, months, or worse, years. The place was always cold, wet and seemed to be always dark – not to mention that Sirius lost all sense of time whenever the Dementors came by.
It didn't matter.
Sirius had been drowning in memories – the darkest and worst that he had – for so long that even when the Dementors left, he couldn't remember anything but the worst parts of his life.
"I'm innocent."
It was the thought that had been keeping Sirius sane.
"I'm innocent." Because for all that James and Lily had died because of Sirius, he hadn't killed them.
'I'm the obvious choice,' Sirius said in his memories. 'He will guess that I am the secret keeper.'
'You're my best friend. I trust you. Who else should I ask?' James had countered.
'Someone nobody would think of… like Wormtail. He's never been the strongest, but he's loyal and a good friend. I will draw the attention, because I'm the obvious choice – and he will be the one who will keep you safe.'
It had been such a good plan. A prank like no other.
It had been the worst thing Sirius had ever done in his live and he was reaping what he sowed thanks to it. It hurt. And yet, he wasn't guilty of what he had been accused of.
"I'm innocent" And yet, his choice was the reason they died and the memories persisted.
What once had been innocent and happy memories were now used to torture him. They were the darkness that clung to his soul, leaving him with the devasting question of "Why?".
Why had Wormtail betrayed them?
They had been friends. They had trusted him. And he? He had turned around and killed them – betrayed them in the worst possible way.
"I'm innocent."
And yet, being innocent had never mattered. Sirius had always been forced to suffer anyway. His mother had seen to that.
"Crucio!" The curse hit him unexpectedly from behind.
Sirius screamed and collapsed to the floor.
"Where are you going, you disgrace?" his mother screamed. The curse stopped and Sirius turned around, still on the floor. He was panting and shuddering. His muscles spasmed.
"M…mother," he whispered hoarsely. He shivered again.
"Speak up, wastrel!" his mother screeched, her eyes glowing with madness. "Where are you going?"
Sirius swallowed and forced himself up with his still shaking arms.
"I… I w… will be g… going," he finally forced out, his voice nearly breaking. "Y… you're mad a… and I… I'll l…leave."
Because he wanted to leave. He didn't want to put up with his mother any longer. The woman was mad, absolutely insane and Sirius had enough.
"You're going nowhere!" his mother screamed. "You're a Black! You're staying! And you'll do what I say!"
"N… never," Sirius countered. "I… I…. w… will never d… do w… what you w…want. I w… won't j… join the D… Dark L… Lord like y… you want!"
"Crucio!"
Sirius flinched away from the memory and buried his head in hands. He shivered and rubbed his thinning arms. Ever since Sirius had started his stay in Azkaban, he had started to lose weight – faster and faster with every day.
Already, Sirius was thin enough that his rips were starting to protrude.
He was going to die. Sirius was sure of it. A few days ago – or was it weeks? – Sirius had started to turn into his animagus form in the hopes of finding some relieve.
He begged for an escape and as a dog, he was granted it in a way. The memories were dulled whenever he was in his animagus form, but they didn't leave. He was still being tortured by them and it didn't matter if he was human or animal, he wouldn't escape his guilt.
"I'm innocent."
Innocent of what he had been accused of, but guilty nevertheless.
But then, being innocent or not didn't matter – not as long as he suffered, nevertheless.
"You wastrel!" his mother's voice screeched in his memory. "How could you turn your back on the ancient and noble House of Black? How could you betray your family?"
"I've never betrayed your family!" Sirius countered heatedly. "If someone betrayed anyone that you were the one who betrayed me! You're my mother! You should have loved me! Instead you go out of your way to –!"
The slap across his face stopped his protest and split his lip.
"You're a disgrace!" his mother screamed. "You've always gone against the family! You've always betrayed our ideals!"
"What ideals?" Sirius yelled. "The only ideal you all share is your insanity!"
The second slap made him stumble and he fell to the floor. He guessed that he was lucky that his mother hadn't gone for her wand, yet.
"You are born from my womb!" his mother screeched. "If I am insane, then you will have inherited it from me!"
Sirius shivered and whimpered while some tears started to leak from his eyes.
His mother had been right.
Sirius could already feel his sanity waning. He was sure that Azkaban would take any kind of sane reasoning he had left.
Soon, he would be as insane as his mother had always been.
At least, there was no one around in his cell for him to hit…
'Your mother didn't mean to hit you, Sirius, child,' a voice of Sirius' past penetrated his thoughts. 'Do you remember when your uncle and I spoke of the Black insanity that has always been plaguing our family?'
'I do, Father,' Sirius replied and the scene of his memory cleared to show a familiar room – his childhood room. Sirius could feel his cheek stinging where his mother had slapped him.
His Father – he was so young in Sirius' memory, maybe ten or fifteen years older than Sirius was now… no, had been, before he had been imprisoned – was kneeling in front of Sirius's bed. How old was Sirius in his memory? Four? Five? Younger? Sirius couldn't remember ever seeing his father that young, nor could he remember that scene he was shown in his memory.
'I'm sorry, son,' Orion Black said and reached for Sirius to pull him closer. 'I'm sorry, son, but your mother is losing the fight against the madness.'
'She hit me, Daddy,' Sirius voiced, his adult brain a bit taken aback by his choice of address of his father.
'I know, son, I know,' Orion said and hugged his son closer. 'I'm sorry that I couldn't stop her, Sirius.'
'She won't do it again, will she?' At that, his father sighed.
'You have to understand that your mother is ill. She loves you, but that doesn't mean that she will be able to show it in the future,' for a moment, Orion hesitated, then he stroked Sirius' hair. 'Your mother…' He stopped and tried again. 'There are two ways to stop the Black madness. Most of us Blacks – just like your mother and I – decided to fight it. Only few of us are strong enough to do the opposite.'
Sirius leaned backwards to look at his father in confusion. 'I don't understand, Daddy.'
'Your mother is fighting and losing. One day I will fight and lose as well. One day your brother and you… you will both do the same. Fight and lose – that's the fate of us Blacks,' Orion said and his face was full of bitterness that made Sirius shiver in fear. 'The madness is strong in our family – we have to fight it to keep our lives and sanity… or we have to embrace it and give up anything resembling normality. There are only these two ways, and we will all have to walk one or the other one day.'
'Then I will fight,' Sirius whispered and buried his head in his father's chest. His father pulled him close and kissed his hair. Something wet dripped onto Sirius' forehead and it took a moment for him to understand that his father was silently spilling his tears.
'Fight until you can't fight anymore, my son,' Orion whispered, quietly begging his son. 'And when you can't fight anymore. When you're losing – then don't be your mother. Don't keep on fighting. Do the opposite! Be stronger than your mother and embrace it. At least like that, you will stay alive, no matter how dark our world will be.'
The words echoed all around Sirius's cell when he was finally ripped out of his memory. It hadn't been a good one – they never were – but for all his remembered fear, confusion and sadness, it was oddly precious.
'And when you can't fight anymore. When you're losing – then don't be your mother. Don't keep on fighting. Do the opposite.'
The idea was madness. Sirius was already on his last leg, losing himself in childhood memories – memories of a more innocent and yet so much darker time – just showed him that his sanity was vanishing like the sun behind the horizon at dawn. He couldn't go and give up.
What would happen if he did what his father wanted?
What would happen if he gave up and gave in?
Sirius couldn't imagine it.
He didn't want to lose his mind. It was the last thing he had left.
"This isn't the Black insanity," he reminded himself. "It's the Dementors. It's Azkaban. It has nothing to do with inheritance."
"You will feel it one day," his father whispered in his memories. His father was so young. Older than in the last memory, but so much younger than Sirius had ever remembered before. "You will feel yourself slipping. It will encroach on you until you won't be able to hold on – and the moment you will lose your hold, the abyss will claim you."
"But why did you say that I should stop fighting, then?" little Sirius asked his father with a frown. "Wouldn't it be better to cling that much harder, instead? I don't want to end like mother."
His cheek was stinging and his father was carefully bandaging one of his hands. His hand was blistered and burned.
"It's the opposite," his father whispered. "Your mother is fighting which is why she's hurting us all. If she stopped, if she'd be strong enough to let go and jump… maybe, there'd be a chance that she'd come out better on the other side."
"Then why is she still fighting?" Sirius asked confused. "If it was better for her, why doesn't she let go and give in to the madness?"
"Because she isn't strong enough, just like I am not strong enough," his father replied. "Letting go and accepting that you're going to lose yourself and everything that made you you – that's the hardest thing you would ever have to do. Your mother can't do that. She clings to sanity because giving in to the madness would mean losing everything she treasures about herself."
Sirius looked down.
"But… she hurts me," he whispered nearly silently. His father winced.
"She still loves you," he assured his son, "even if she can't show it anymore. Just like I will always love you – even when the time comes when I will lose my mind as well. Even if I might end up unable to show it, too."
"Why… why do you keep on fighting, then, Daddy?" Sirius asked. He had looked up and into his father's sad eyes. "Why don't you stop fighting and give in? Didn't you say it would be better if you did?"
"Because giving in might mean that I might stop loving you and your brother and your mother," his father replied. "I can't do that. Like I said, I'm not strong enough."
Then, his father leaned closer to him, his forehead touching Sirius'.
"Please, my son," he whispered. "Please, be better than me. If you end up fighting, don't be afraid. Be stronger than me and embrace the madness, instead."
"I can't," Sirius whispered and clenched his hands. "I can't give in."
This wasn't the Black insanity. And even if it partly was, Sirius feared losing his love for James and Lily and Harry. He feared losing himself.
'But they're dead and gone,' a voice reminded him. 'Lily and James died and you are here alone. There's no one there to force you to keep holding onto your sanity.'
Lily and James had died because of Sirius. He might not have killed them, he might not have betrayed them – but they still died because of him.
'I'm the obvious choice,' Sirius heard himself say in his memories. 'He will guess that I am the secret keeper.'
'You're my best friend. I trust you. Who else should I ask?' There had been so much trust in James' eyes as if he couldn't even imagine betrayal.
'Someone nobody would think of… like Wormtail. He's never been the strongest, but he's loyal and a good friend. I will draw the attention, because I'm the obvious choice – and he will be the one who will keep you safe.'
Why had Wormtail betrayed them?
And what had Sirius done when he suggested Wormtail as the secret keeper?
"I'm innocent," Sirius was clinging to that thought when he relived again and again how he stumbled into James' home, just to look at his friend, lying on the floor with broken eyes.
James didn't look as if he was sleeping.
There was blood on the floor, and his eyes gazed into nothing.
"I'm innocent."
Lily had been in the upper room. She had been lying on her side, her eyes closed, as if she had just curled up on the floor to sleep. There had been no evidence that anything had been wrong with her, but the fact that she had been icy to the touch.
Finding her like that had been even more horrifying than finding James. At least with James, Sirius had known from the start that his best friend was lost and gone.
He hadn't known that with Lily.
"I'm innocent."
And Pettigrew?
He had blown up the streets, pieces of people raining down on Sirius and the cobble stone all around him while he accused Sirius of the unthinkable.
"I'm innocent. I'm innocent. I'm innocent."
But… did that matter? He was still here, in Azkaban, with the Dementors. Locked away with the key lost in the sea.
"I'm innocent."
'And when you can't fight anymore. When you're losing – then don't be your mother. Don't keep on fighting. Do the opposite.'
Madness. It was madness.
Sirius had to cling on. He had to keep his sanity. He couldn't go and forget what it was like to love Lily, James and Harry.
Harry.
He couldn't just give up on Harry.
But Harry was gone. He was living who knows where and most likely without even knowing that Sirius existed.
Everyone was gone.
Sirius was alone.
'Please, my son, please, be better than me. If you end up fighting, don't be afraid. Be stronger than me and embrace the madness, instead.'
It was madness.
Sirius was a Black.
He knew what it meant to go mad. He remembered his mother; he remembered what she had done to him.
She hadn't been sane.
He remembered his father; he remembered the way the man had lost himself to dangerous experiments and disinterest.
If not for the memories unearthed in his brain, Sirius would have said that neither one of his parents had ever loved him. Now, with the old memories being dragged up by the Dementors, Sirius actually wondered about his father.
But that didn't mean that Sirius wanted to turn into one of his parents. He didn't want to be a screeching, violent bastard like his mother had been a screeching, violent bitch and he didn't want to be a mad scientist, disinterested in anything but his next weird experiment like his father had ended up being.
'And when you can't fight anymore. When you're losing – then don't be your mother. Don't keep on fighting. Do the opposite.' He could hear his father whisper in his mind. 'Please, my son, please, be better than me. If you end up fighting, don't be afraid. Be stronger than me and embrace the madness, instead.'
Stronger.
Sirius swallowed.
He thought back. He tried to remember everything he could – the good, the bad and the ugly – about James and Lily… about Harry.
A single tear rolled down Sirius' cheek.
He had had a good life.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Sirius whispered. "I'm sorry, but I promised once that I'd be stronger than my mother. I can't keep on fighting."
It was a frightening thought.
Sirius hesitated for another second, maybe even longer… but then he could feel the coldness that came whenever the Dementors came back, and Sirius knew that he couldn't draw it out any longer.
It was now or never.
He was done fighting. He would lose his mind if he kept on fighting and no matter what – Sirius really didn't want to end up like his mother.
Sirius took a deep breath.
He closed his eyes, cleared his thoughts one more time by leaning into his animagus form.
He reached for the block he had been keeping up ever since he had felt the madness steering inside him when he was barely ten years old. He took another deep breath and ripped out the block.
Sirius could feel the maelstrom of his madness swelling up from where it had been freed.
He looked into the abyss.
Then he took the plunge.
... ... ...
...
A little take on of the Black insanity. I didn't actually plan the story, but the idea bugged me until I wrote it down.
'Till next time.
Ebenbild