August 15, 1989.
Azkaban.
North Sea.
4: PM.
Sirius Black, languishing in Azkaban, had to endure a visit from another Minister of Magic. This time it was Cornelius Oswald Fudge. The government was going to the dogs, and Sirius found it ironic that another useless person was in power. Old Millie had died, probably poisoned, and after much debate, Fudge had won the seat by arse-licking. Nothing like politics to make you want to jump ship. The committee in this hellhole was quite lively, their voices echoing as they reached Sirius's level.
"Yes, yes, quite a shame. The boy-who-lived is now missing, those horrible muggles are now in prison, but Harry Potter simply vanished, Dumbledore cannot find him, and the ministry is still unable to seize the Potter vaults. Those disgusting things refused our paperwork," said Fudge.
"Quite a shame, but if you think about it really, it all went to hell for the Potter family, when the last Scion decided to marry a mudblood instead of someone of old blood, they signed their death warrant and lady fortune came to charge the bill," said the stupid bootlicker, the warden, next to Fudge while the other person nodded in acceptance.
Sirius Black decided that his days of being a prisoner were done. Before long, he transformed into Padfoot, and when the warden, Fudge, and whoever was coming up the staircase reached the level, they too would encounter something completely different.
His skinny frame in the shape of an Irish wolfhound crossed the bars and stepped outside. He melted in the shadows and waited. The committee, a Dementor, two stooges and Fudge walked up to his cell to brag about the story in the newspaper.
Padfoot took a leap and pushed the distracted committee members against the Dementor. The men panicked. Padfoot took the medallion that kept the dementor obedient from Fudge. The dementor, in turn, reacted like a dog to his serving bowl and kissed Fudge. The grim then pushed the stooges into the loving arms of the wraith, who was done with Fudge a second before and kissed them in succession. The prisoners on that wing began screaming. Padfoot was holding the talisman in his snout. The Dementor kissed everyone who was not wearing protection while a shadowy figure quietly emerged from the Island. Padfoot had one mission. He had to find out what happened to Harry. Everyone else could go rot.
The cold, the loneliness, the endless misfortune, he could take it all, only with the promise that his godson was cared for. Everyone failed Sirius before, he was used to it. But, his godson, his beautiful baby boy had a better chance. That was the reason he remained, innocent and unjustly incarcerated. Everybody would burn. His boy had been betrayed as well, he was not going to stand idle and wait for lady fortune. He did for himself, but not for Harry, that, or his fucking name was not son of a bitch.
Meanwhile,
Albus Dumbledore received a letter stating the recent escape from the last scion of Black form Azkaban. Fantastic! he thought with sarcasm. 'Now, its two who are lost,'
August 16, 1989.
Black Castle.
Location unknown. Property under Fidelius.
United Kingdom.
8 am.
Arcturus Orion Black, Lord Black, was having breakfast and reading the newspaper as usual. The only difference was that his grandson had made the headlines. The paper carried a silly story about his heir's escape from the supposedly escape proof Azkaban prison, which shocked readers. However, it made him smile. He had been waiting for a long time to feel proud of his grandson.
Lord Black reflected. It's quite puzzling how the news people are spreading the story of a Dementor attack. Their lack of expertise and professionalism is visible.
The frail old man turned and said, "Anima,"
A fearsome ancient female elf appeared with a soundless pop.
"Master called," replied the elf with a deep bow.
"Get my grandson, he is on land and in an animagus shape, an ink-black Irish wolfhound, tie him if you must, I need him," said the old man.
The elf curtseyed before presenting a subdued, ink-black Irish Wolfhound to Lord Black.
The ropes tying the wolfhound disappeared as he approached the fire. He turned to face his captor, raised his chin, and huffed.
"Sirius, I told you before, don't pout, it makes you look weak. I preferred your growl," said Arcturus, speaking to Sirius as though he was an infant grandson.
Sirius found his grandfather's voice unbearable, like a camel chewing and a donkey laughing. He hated the scoldings, but at least his mother was passionate about being insane.
"Are you rolling your eyes on me?" Questioned Lord Black.
Sirius tried getting up, but his body did not respond. He instead began banging his head on the floor.
Arcturus laughed heartily, a sound that he hadn't made in years. The sudden noise caught Anima's attention, who walked into the room to see what was happening. "Oh, and now you're having a fit? You're making me smile too much, stop it now. You might frighten Anima," he said jokingly.
Sirius was on the verge of tears. His grandfather's ability to make him feel both vulnerable and loved had always affected him deeply. As a teenager, being disavowed from his clan had broken his heart, and now, in his current miserable state, his grandfather was managing to do it again.
Arcturus noticed that his grandson was trying hard not to cry. He stood up, walked closer to him, and hugged him tightly. As he did, Sirius began to cry loudly while Arcturus gently stroked his matted hair. 'We make a fine pair, a proud old fool, and a talented but foolish boy with too much heart,' Arcturus thought to himself.
The two cried, and the animal shifted into the body of a dirty, skinny, shabbily dressed prisoner. Arcturus noticed that Sirius was trying to tell him something. Sirius babbled, "I couldn't save them, Grandpa. They all died, and now Harry is lost, and I failed them all. I'm so sorry."
The tears fell from his sunken eyes, and he cried while holding onto the weak man. Arcturus clung to his last child. He knew he was just as responsible for his heartbreak. He said, "We have failed them, Siri. We have failed everyone. Oh, Merlin, we need to fix this mess. But don't worry, together we will overcome. Now, go take a bath, relax, and I'll find Harry."
Sirius asked, "How?"
"Harry is a Black, how do you think? Besides, that bearded old meddler deserves a lesson in humility, I swear," replied Lord Black.
Phineas Nigellus Black in his Hogwarts portrait and Dorea Black in Black Castle both jumped. The two figures emerged in Lord Black's study and a dark glint appeared in their eyes. "Always Pure of Heart, a Blackheart," said Sirius.
Lord Black added, "You remembered well, but you're a tough nut to crack." Sirius responded with a crooked smile, "Shh, I might really become a part of this family if Mother hears you."
"Sure, that would be worth watching," Arcturus said as he gently caressed his grandson's bony cheek. "Anima, please assist Sirius in settling down in the castle. And Brutus?"
"Master has summoned me," replied a house elf dressed in a suit.
"Fetch Harry Potter," Lord Black commanded.
Brutus nodded and his magic flashed. Lord Black raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. "Harry Potter is currently at Gringotts," Brutus added.
"Now I really want to meet him, Sirius," he said to his grandson. Turning to Brutus, he added, "Protect him and invite him to my castle. He's like my grandson - escaped from a muggle Azkaban."
"Yes, master. Brutus will," replied Brutus with a vow.
Lord Black smiled at his grandson as he walked out. He then turned to Phineas, raising an eyebrow. Phineas smiled in response. Dorea waited silently, while Arcturus said, "Kreacher."
"Lord Black calls?" said Kreacher.
"Bring this letter to Walburga," Lord Black handed over a note.
Kreacher nodded and vanished.
"Anima," Lord Black called.
"Yes, Master?" replied the house elf.
"Deliver this letter to Andromeda," he handed her a roll of parchment.
"Anima will," the house elf disappeared.
Lord Black looked up and said to Phineas. "Remember Phineas, your tongue is my weapon, or do I need to banish you?"
"No, my lord," said Phineas.
"We will get him back Dorea," said Lord Black to the beautiful woman who was biting her lip.
"We should have had him from the start," countered Dorea.
"I know, but now is not the time to reminisce, I'm sure he has a story to tell," said Lord Black.
"Don't we all," said the portrait of Regulus Arcturus Black.