Wednesday 10th February 1982

Azkaban, 14:00

"Black!"

Sirius jolted out of his thoughts. Or was it his memories? Or hallucinations? It was difficult to tell these days. Did you know that the effect of Dementors could cause you to have hallucinations? Because he knew that now. Vividly. And he knew they were hallucinations because James was dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. So, he couldn't be real. Even if he did see him. And he had seen him. Lily too sometimes. And Peter. But he wasn't dead. Even though he wanted him to be. But he wasn't here either. Of he was, surely, he wouldn't be here. So yes, hallucinations.

Though, that was happening less and less over the days. Sirius wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not. Did that mean he was getting used to the Dementors? Could you get used to such horrific things.

"Black!"

Oh, someone actually had called him. What did they want? He didn't even bother to raise his head. What was the point? It wasn't like anyone actually cared about him around here.

"Black!"

Now that was an extremely exasperated voice. Better than anger, he supposed. Still didn't really make him take notice. Because, let's be honest, having people notice you in here wasn't exactly a good thing. Like when the Lees were dragged past him. He shuddered at the memory of the things they cackled at him. Why were all the Death Eaters who came as a married pair always so crazy? Bellatrix and Rudolphus were even more so and he was sure there was at least one other pair. All bonkers.

"Bonkers," he said under his breath and then clamped his mouth shut. No. He was not going to start talking to himself. He was better than that. He was innocent. He was innocent. He was innocent, even if no one else seemed to think so. No one seemed to think so. That's why he was still here, wasn't it? Because no one believed him.

He felt the effects of the Dementor lift slightly and the glow of a Patronus coming into his line of sight. A sigh of relief left him. Sure, the Dementors were still there, he could feel them but any sort of relief was welcome. It was weird how even a little bit could clear his mind. Like a beam of hazy light through the fog. It made him dizzy.

A stupid, sneering guard came to his door. He only knew that because of the uniform. Guards didn't actually guard the prisoners. Not by the cells, anyway. They were at the top level. Well away from the Dementors. Couldn't have their precious brains scrambled. Not that they tended to have much of those in the first place. Aurors always made fun of them. They were easy pickings. Seriously, they weren't the brightest bunch. They didn't need to be smart. Dementors did all the reap guarding. Sirius was impressed that he managed to walk down the steps without tripping.

'CLANG'

Went the bars of his cell, making him jump.

"Listen to me!" The guard demanded.

Sirius lofted his head to look at him, sneer firmly on his face even though he had no clue that he'd been talking. The guard huffed at him.

"There's a solicitor here for you," he said, rolling his eyes.

"A solicitor? Wait, what?"

But the guard was already walking away.

"Good afternoon, Mr Black, I'm Mr Banbridge, your solicitor."

"Afternoon? Solicitor?"

Sirius blinked in confusion. It was attention? Wait, of course it was afternoon, his evening slop (he refused to call that disgusting mess food) hadn't arrived yet. It was kind of hard to tell the time when you were surrounded by stone walls and very little light.

But wait, solicitor? This tall, bulky man was a solicitor?

"A solicitor?" He repeated dumbly. "You're a solicitor?"

That got him a raised eyebrow. "Yes. Yes, I am."

Huh. Sirius stepped back and frowned. His mind was still a bit sluggish and slow. He didn't like the feeling, especially now that he was apparently expected to say something. And something that made sense too. The fog was slowly lifting but he didn't like how long it was taking. It was frustrating. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Argh. Good thing the Dementors weren't about or that thought would have made his day so much worse. He had plenty of experience with that.

"Right," he rubbed at his eyes like that would clear his head. "A solicitor. You're a solicitor."

"Yes, Benjamin Banbridge, pleasure to meet you."

He even held his hand out for Sirius to shake. And sounded like he genuinely meant what he said. Sirius blinked at him owlishly but automatically held his hand out to shake, realising too late how grubby his hands were. Look, there wasn't exactly a lot of water for washing here. Just a stupid, small basin every day. Not enough for your whole body. And when it was done, it was done. You couldn't ask for more. Well, he didn't. The idea of talking to a Dementor was wrong somehow. And depressing. The less interaction he had with those creatures, the better. But now he was starting to think that that was a bad idea. He was hardly presentable, was he?

Self-consciously, he ran his hand through his hair. Not that he got far thanks to some knots. His hair. It had knots. How had he not realised this before? What was he supposed to do about it?

Then he realised that he was still shaking Banbridge's hand with his other hand and he retracted it, embarrassed. The man gave him a bemused look but didn't say anything. Instead, he shuffled about in the bag that was over one of his shoulders and took out some parchment.

"I'm not allowed near you without bars in the way, apparently," Banbridge said with a wry grin. "Also, I'm not supposed to get within grabbing distance of you either. But I suppose we can make this work."

"Sure, you don't want to be against the opposite wall in case I try to strangle you?" Sirius said, only slightly bitterly.

"Oh, I don't think you're going to do that."

"Oh yeah?" He raised his eyes challengingly

"You don't exactly give off any sort of crazy feeling to me."

"Shows how much you know."

"Anyway," Banbridge said, swiftly changing the subject. "I'm only meant to be here for half an hour and then I have to go."

"And then the Dementors have to come back."

He said that without any inflection at all. Which kind of scared him.

"Yes," Banbridge's expression faltered. "Then the Dementors have to come back."

Sirius didn't say anything to that. He didn't know what he was supposed to say to that. He didn't want the Dementors to come back. No one would.

"Your friends have done an awful lot of work for you. Made their case very convincingly. Had all this research to back them, and you, up." Banbridge continued hurriedly.

"My friends?"

Banbridge gave him a worried look. "Yes, your friends. Remus Lupin, Marlene McKinnon, Severus Snape, Chryssie Evans and a woman who only seems to go by the name Tonks?"

"Family," Sirius said quietly, looking away.

"Pardon?"

He coughed and repeated himself, "They're my family."

Banbridge gave him a long look and then nodded. "Family. Of course."

"What day is it?" Sirius asked abruptly.

He didn't know what day it was. He didn't know what day it was. He knew it was the new year, he's heard some guards get really drunk out in the top offices. Yes, they got so drunk that he could hear them all the way down here. The Dementors had really liked that for some reason. They had got excited. Well. The Dementor version of excited. That's what he thought it was anyway but what did he know? Nothing, he knew nothing. He didn't even know the day.

"The tenth of February."

"February?"

"Yes."

"That's after Severus birthday," he said quietly.

"How does that make you feel?"

That made him snap out of his thoughts and attempt to joke, "I thought you were a solicitor, not a shrink."

Banbridge shrugged. "Just trying to get all of the information."

"Information? What do you believe?"

"I'm working for them, aren't I?" He asked wryly and then shuffled his pieces of parchment together. "Anyway, that's not what's important. The important thing here is that you didn't get a trial."

"It was the war..."

"Everyone else has been getting trials."

That made Sirius' brain come to a halt as he stared at the man in front of him.

"What?" He asked weakly.

He couldn't have heard that right, right?

"There has been a trial for every single Death Eater or Death Eater sympathiser that has been caught." He said slowly and then added, "who's still alive, anyway."

"Trials?"

Everyone had been getting trials? Everyone?

"Yes."

"Except me."

"Yes."

"And that's what I want to fix," the man said earnestly. "Look, what happened to you shouldn't have happened."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter at that. It was weaker than it normally was but it got his point across. Of course, what happened shouldn't have happened. But it did. And now he had to, literally, live with it. Live in this hell hole were memories literally tried to eat him alive and there was damp everywhere. He could get warm. Couldn't stay warm. He was always somewhat cold and he hated it.

"And your friends know that it should never have happened."

Friends? Wait. What? Friends?

"Friends?" He croaked out.

Why was his voice like that? His throat was feeling all tight.

"Yes!" Banbridge's eyes lit up. "Your friends! They've been helping me. Helping you," and then he laughed. "They've done a lot of my preliminary work for me, in fact."

He couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. They wanted to help him? They researched things? Did this mean that they believed him? Sirius froze, waiting for the Dementors to take this happiness away but it didn't happen. They weren't close enough. He was in a different room. A different room with a solicitor. A solicitor who was talking about his friends. His friends who hadn't abandoned him. They were trying to help him.

Swallowing heavily, he felt like he had to ask. "What do they... what do they think of me?"

Banbridge's eyes softened.

"They want to help. They want the truth."

The truth? What even was the truth anymore?

"Now," he said, suddenly extremely professional, quill out and he looked at him expectantly. "What can you remember of that night?"

Friday 12th February 1982

Severus and Chryssie's Flat, 19:00

It had been a topic that they had all been avoiding for months at this point. Literal months. And if Severus was being honest with himself, he didn't know what to think. Because it involved two of his friends. Two of his closest friends. And thinking about what happened meant that he had to choose one over the other. That's what it seemed like. And Severus didn't want to do that. So, he avoided thinking about it. Cowardly? Yes. But he never laid claimed to bravery as a personality trait. Everyone else avoided thinking about it too.

And they probably would have continued to avoid it if Banbridge hadn't forced their hand and asked them about it. Literally, be just asked them what they thought could have happened to Peter. Severus didn't want to think what could have happened to Peter. All of the option were just too gruesome. He shuddered at where his thoughts went. He just didn't know.

What he did know that he didn't believe Sirius could kill Peter just like that. He might not have been as close to Sirius like James had been but even, he knew that Sirius wasn't capable of such a thing.

But maybe it had happened by accident? The result of a duel? But why would they have been duelling? Why would Peter have been there at all? There was no way that Sirius would have betrayed Lily and James so why had Peter been there? Did he find something out? What could that have been?

Severus growled and pounded the mixture in his mortar. There were no answers. Not yet. He didn't like not having answers.

Monday 15th February 1982

Longbottom Manor, 12:00

"Neville!" Alice scolded but not seriously because he could hear the laugh on her voice.

Frank loved that sound. Especially when it was paired with his son's giggling. He put done the book je had been reading so he could watch them.

Neville was running happily between the sofa that Alice was on and a chair opposite him. He was finally steady enough on his feet to run. It still looked a little bit unbalanced to him but hopefully that would go away in time. It was fun to watch. Especially when he tried to pull a cushion off each piece of furniture, which is what Alice had been scolding him about - not wanting him to make a mess.

"You're going to make a mess," she tried to scold but her amusement shone through.

She couldn't help it, watching him tug at these massive cushions was just so funny. He huffed and he puffed and he looked so serious. He didn't seem to mind that he was trying to make a mess but, he again, he wasn't the one who was going to have to clear it up.

"You should just pick him up and stop him," Frank said in exasperation.

"Aw, Frank, he's not doing any real harm."

"He's making a mess."

"With cushions. They're easily fixed."

Frank grumbled a bit but he wasn't really annoyed. In fact, she could see the small smile on his face before it was covered by a book. See? You just couldn't be annoyed at Neville. It was impossible.

"Look!" He said excitedly and they both looked over at him.

Neville looked extremely proud of himself for finally pulling one to the floor. He gave them this big grin where you could see all of his teeth. Not that there were many of those but it was adorable all the same.

Before Alice could grab it, Neville had flung himself on it, bouncing slightly. He shrieked in delight at the movement. She couldn't help but smile. That did look like fun.

Wednesday 17th February 1972

Azkaban

Sirius couldn't be a hundred percent sure but ever since that visit he had from that solicitor, what was his name? Oh, he couldn't remember now. His memory was all weird these days. Or maybe he just didn't like using it too much. Too many painful memories. Whatever. He wanted to survive so he did whatever he had to do. Survival. That's what mattered. Whatever the solicitor's name was, it didn't matter, what did matter was the result of his visit. A result that Sirius wasn't even completely sure was happening or maybe he was just imagining it.

He held his breath as a Dementor swept past. Everything got really cold, as usual. How it managed to be even colder than before, he wasn't sure because his cell was freezing but the Dementor managed it. It was weird. Was it a charm or something? Or just their magic? Moony would probably know. Or Lily. Except, he couldn't ask Lily anymore, could her? Never would be again. Would he ever be able to ask Moony again? That's what the solicitor was for, right? So, he could get out of here?

He didn't want to be here. He shouldn't be here. No. No. No. No. No. No. Clutching at his head, he tried not to let the memories take over. No, he couldn't let that happen. If he let that happen then the Dementors would take them away. He was innocent. He was innocent. He was innocent. That was the thought that kept him sane. That's what had to stay with him. Nothing else. He just wanted to get away from all the horrible feelings and memories.

Then all of a sudden, the ceiling seemed much further away. Oh. What? Had he fallen over? He hadn't felt his head hit anything? But the ceiling was definitely further away. And everything smelled a lot... more? Okay, that really didn't make sense. But nothing was making sense anymore.

His nose itched from all the smells that were crowding him. None of them nice smells. Decay. Mould. Seaweed. Salt. Stone. Filth. He didn't even want to think what the filth was. He scratched his nose and he fell back on his backside in shock. That was a paw that he just saw. A paw. Where did that paw come from? Paw? Sirius nearly fell over in shock. Then he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Something long a fuzzy and black. It moved.

He looked down to see if that would give him any idea what happened - magic wasn't usually performed in Azkaban. Certainly not anywhere near the cells, the Dementors didn't like it. So, he couldn't have been cursed. It didn't make sense. He looked behind him again to see if anything had changed. Then he saw a mass of black... fur? There was black fur behind him? And it moved?

It was almost embarrassing how long it took for him to figure it out but it took until he looked down again at the two paws to realise that they were his. His paws. Dog paws. He was a dog. Padfoot. He collapsed to the ground in shock when all the pieces fell into place.

Okay. He was in his Animagus form. He was Padfoot. Why was he Padfoot? He picked up his paw and sniffed it. Then he gave it a lick for good measure and scrunched his nose up at the taste. Eurgh, yuck. Azkaban floors did not taste nice at all. But yep. Definitely his paw.

What in Merlin's name he just happened?