Interlude III

Sirius sat on the camp bed in his cell and ate the latest bowl of stew.

With a spoon.

He felt incredibly civilised!

It seemed he was getting food three times a day and they must've put a potion in it as he didn't ever get sick after eating all of it. Which was quite amazing and appreciated.

So, even if he was still left to himself for days, it was much better than Azkaban, by far.

And maybe the time spent here helped give him time to acclimate, or something like that.

But once he had finished, someone entered the hall outside of his cell!

He jumped up.

The door to the hallway which was in front of the four cells – he was in cell number three – opened and in came an Unspeakable. Huh? At first, he had thought it was a Dementor, but it became apparent immediately that this was a walking and talking person. Thank Merlin!

"Good day, Mr Black. I'm Unspeakable No. 3, and I'm here to ask and answer some questions. A healer will be here shortly, to cast a diagnostic spell on you, if you consent."

"Sure. Cast away. Why isn't an Auror doing this?"

"It'll be explained later, Let's just say some internal power struggles are going on in the DMLE right now, and we've decided to step in for the time being. So, first of all, today's the 9th of January 1993. It's a Saturday."

"Twelve years?" Sirius asked, appalled, heavily sitting back on the creaking camp bed.

"Unfortunately, yes. You were at Azkaban without a trial for more than eleven years."

Sirius blinked away tears, "Harry is at Hogwarts already?"

"He is. Second year. He's doing well."

"Thank you," Sirius was grateful the Unspeakable had anticipated and answered his main question, but still, nearly a dozen years!

There was a pause to give Sirius time to collect himself for which he was grateful.

After a moment Sirius said, what he had wanted to say for – as he now knew – eleven years! "I didn't betray James and Lily to Voldemort. But I did convince them to use Peter as their Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm. So, I was partly at fault for their deaths." That was the longest sentence he had said in over a decade. And it made sense. At least he hoped so.

No. 3 nodded his(?), her(?) head, and said, "We know. Some students at Hogwarts found a rat that they were sure was an Animagus. We never found out how. And they were right. It was Peter Pettigrew in rat form, much to first Filius Flitwick's, then the Auror's, and then to our surprise."

"Oh, thank Merlin, you have him and know about his ability. Let me see him!?" Sirius got a wild look about him. He even bared his teeth and growled.

"Not at the moment. There's much happening in the wizarding world right now, and we still need to get everything sorted."

Sirius scowled, he really wanted to rip the rat apart.

Just then the announced healer arrived and cast his diagnostics on Sirius.

The healer was rather amazed at how well Sirius was doing after his decade-long stint at Azkaban. It was unheard of to stay that stable, mentally.

"It might be his ability to transform into a dog," The Unspeakable No. 3 offered.

Sirius yelped, "You know about it?"

The Unspeakable chuckled and said, "You've transformed into a dog all the time while being in this cell. So we would know, even if Pettigrew hadn't told us all about it. Say, were you in your dog form most of the time while there?"

"Yes," Sirius said grudgingly.

"And no one ever noticed?" The healer asked, astonished.

"No one ever visits, except the Dementors and they're blind."

"You always were in solitary confinement?"

"Well, I could hear the other prisoners."

"Were you talking with them?" the healer asked, looking concerned.

"Hell no. I just meant I heard Bella screeching and ranting and the others crying sometimes. At least in the beginning. Many of the ones crying died," Sirius recounted thoughtfully. "Why do you think that is?" he asked his visitors, looking up.

The healer gasped and ran out of the cell block, hand covering his mouth.

"Huh. First, he's astonished that I'm doing so well after the hell that's Azkaban, and then he can't stand to hear about the reality there?" Sirius scratched his matted-haired head.

"That reaction was a little surprising, I agree. Especially for a healer responsible for the Ministry holding cells. My guess is, he never really thought about it, and as nearly no one ever returns from Azkaban to the holding cells, you might be the first one he ever had contact with."

"Lucky me. So, back to Peter. You know he's a rat animagus then?"

Unspeakable nodded and said, "We'll inhibit transformation for Pettigrew. More because he would be a flight risk as a rat than to hinder his ability to withstand the dementors."

"Makes sense. And if someone deserves Azkaban, it would be Peter, the traitor!" Sirius spat.

No. 3 nodded and went on, "now that we've established the basics, I need to tell you about a spell that had infested the wizarding world."

Sirius listened attentively and with some disbelief as No. 3 told him about The Spell and its counter, which was being cast left and right by now.

"So, you're saying that by getting sorted into Gryffindor, there's less chance for me to have been present when The Spell was cast."

"Exactly. But we don't know if someone cast it at your home."

"Certainly not my mother. She's not pretty... But her mother Irma Black, née Crabbe was said to have been beautiful, but she died when my mother was quite young."

"So, it would be more plausible that your mother had been a victim, not the caster of The Spell."

Sirius frowned and nodded, "She's a victim of it with near certainty. Beautiful mother… Slytherin house… Damn."

"Indeed. Well, I see you're at the end of your rope.," The Unspeakable decided against telling Black, that his mother had passed away, for now. "But before I go, do you want me to cast the counter on you? It's not as effective as casting it yourself, but better than nothing."

"Yes, please."

"Redianormalis"

"That's it? I didn't feel anything."

"No one does, but yes, that was it. – Well, I cannot see any outward differences. Do you feel any internal ones?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I'm much too tired."

"Then rest. I'll visit again, tomorrow."

"Thanks," Sirius said, fell backwards on the camp bed he had been sitting on, and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.