Okay – I know I am not supposed to be doing anything other than trying to write the next chapter of my other HP story, but this idea jumped on me and I couldn't resist but stop what I was doing and type it down.

Don't worry because this is a One-Shot and I will continue with the next chapter of my other story (WSHB WSNHB) as soon as I can – I promise!! (It is nearly done, I am just finishing the last scenes…)

Anything in Italic is a thought!

Enjoy!

Seeking Freedom

He looked over the sea, to the black spot looming just over the horizon. It had been no less than a few hours since he had left that place – that hell – he was imprisoned for years. Twelve years in fact.

He hated that place.

The place where they took everything away from him – his life, his feelings, even his memory – it was a miracle he hadn't gone insane and even now he pondered why. Why didn't he lose his mind? Why didn't he drown in his most horrid memories? Why didn't the Dementors affect him like they did everyone else?

From the moment he was brought to that place – Azkaban – to the moment he fled from it, he knew, he knew he would survive it, as if it was a punishment. He wouldn't be allowed to be free of his wasted, dark existence. He would live – with no memories of what had been and no idea of what will be.

Turning away from the sight that only he could see – for only those who had already been in Azkaban knew where it really was – he continued on his journey. But his thoughts remained where they were.

His memories…they had long ago been lost to him, sucked out by the Dementors, who only gave him back his worst ones. But even then, during the darkest of times, he hadn't lost hope and the, dim, light that was inside him, for he knew that there were certain memories that the Dementors wouldn't, couldn't, take away from him – for he had forgotten them himself – he had sealed them away.

His best years – his Hogwarts years and life afterwards were all locked deep inside, where no one could reach it, not even himself. Once he had been captured and his fate disclosed to him, he had refused to lose his happiest memories to those – things – and locked them away. He hadn't been one of the best Auror's for nothing.

But even though he knew that, somewhere deep inside, he was still empty – void – of any feelings and emotions, void of memories. Sure he still remembered enough of his past to feel pain, guilt and regret. He remembered enough to know he had had wonderful friends and a special time – but they were more like phantoms. They were memories of memories, there but not tangible. Not real. And he hated that – he didn't want to continue with his life that way the Dementors left him – he wanted to go back to what he was before Azkaban, before everything, before death.

He had to begin somewhere and he knew just the exact place.

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2 years later
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He was falling.

He was falling to a place he had to idea where it would lead – he was falling to darkness – he was leaving, at last.

He smiled.

His eyes for the briefest moment sparkled with the light that it used to hold in his younger years at the thought of finally being free of his punishment and torture, finally being free of his curse.

As he felt himself hit the division between the two worlds's, relief washed over him as he remembered the last two years.

He had been unable to unlock his memories – that was something he would find only in death, but he had acquired new ones.

Memories which helped him survive the day and fight for what he wanted. Feelings which had strengthen him in moments of weakness and thoughts which didn't haunt him, but blessed him in their presence.

He found love.

He found friendship.

But most important he found peace, solace.

And now he knew he would find happiness – in death.

He new that his life would never be what it had once been – that Azkaban had taken that chance from him, but he lived those last two years discovering and learning everything he had forgotten while he was locked away and now he would learn his last lesson.

As darkness enveloped his mind and soul his last thought before past memories assaulted him was:

'I found my freedom'

And then he knew no more.

Sirius Black feel through the veil in the Department of Mysteries, ignorant of the shouts and curses continuing around him, ignorant of his Godsons cries and tears and ignorant of his enemies shocked expression.

Feedback is Always Appreciated .

Rather sad but I have the urge to write something in honour of my favourite character Sirius Black – may his memory live forever!!

Hell's Angel