Just a one shot about what Sirius is thinking about in Azkaban.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Sirius wouldn't have suffered through twelve years in Azkaban...it would've been twelve years on the run from the law, living it up in the tropics.
'I deserve this,' I thought as the cell doors of my prison clanged shut behind me. Or at least I imagine they clanged shut in a rather theatrical manner, I was not actually conscious when brought to my cell. The aurors, many of whom I had worked with on Order missions, had stupefied me for safety reasons, or at least that's what they told me in an official monotone before they raised their wands in unison and…
I remember learning about the founding of Azkaban prison in History of Magic, you know. I wasn't actually paying much attention to Binns of course, I mean who does? But I do remember perking up at its mention. At least momentarily. But then he started droning on about how the Goblins had been enslaved to make the magically fortified and warded outer iron gates and that had started another goblin rebellion. Which then turned into a lecture about the hundredth or so goblin rebellion we'd learned about. Naturally I tuned him out at that point. But I do remember wondering why they'd need a magic gate to keep prisoners in when they had dementors. I imagined them to be about the worst thing someone could face, but still a just punishment for deatheaters who'd been caught. I even thought about how some of my family would probably grace it with their presence. I just never thought it would be me.
I was wrong about the dementors, though. They are more of a relief than anything… When they're around they suck the happiness out of you and make you focus on a myriad of horrible memories. A slideshow of gut-wrenching sadness, if you will. But at least the many different horrible memories distracted me from the guilt of Lily and James. And for their sakes, for how I'd failed them and little Harry I deserved every soul-shriveling second.
Harry. The best thing apart from the Marauders that has ever happened to me, or likely ever will. He was Lily and James' through and through, even at only one year old. But in a way, perhaps only a small way, he was mine too. Never have I felt so proud as when a teary James asked me to be his son's Godfather. Afterwards, as he wiped his glasses on a corner of his perpetually untucked shirt, we both pretended to have something in our eyes and gave each other an extremely manly half hand-shake half hug. Lily, saint that she was, rolled her eyes and patted her pregnant "Harry-bump" as she called it, telling him that the men in her life may be a bit strange but he'd have to forgive her. James laughed and swung her around in his arms, only slightly huffing at the effort, telling Lily not to turn his boy against him before he even had a chance.
And those are the happy and loving people I've failed. Not only did I trust a spy, I've failed my Godson. I found the poor wailing tyke up in his crib, confused and asking his 'Siri' for "Ma." I calmed him down the best I could and resolved to take him to my flat and find some toys I kept there to distract him.
But then Hagrid arrived. It's funny how someone you least expect, someone you saw as a childhood figure and never expected to have a place in your adult world, shows up again during one of the most horrible times you've ever experienced. Surreal.
When Hagrid insisted on taking Harry with him, I fought it. Of course I fought it. Lily and James wanted Harry with me, should anything happen.
But I was also relieved. A shameful moment for me, to be sure. But without having to watch out for little Harry, I could kill Peter. And…much as it pains me to admit, I wasn't ready for a kid. Prongs and his lovely wife may have been prepared, scared out of their minds, sure, but still prepared. I only met one of those qualifications. Still, if Hagrid hadn't come along I would have taken Harry happily and without hesitation. I would have been the best damn Godfather there'd ever been.
Besides, if it was Dumbledore who'd sent Hagrid he must have some sort of plan. Dumbledore could fix everything. Even if he couldn't make James and Lily alive and laughing again, well surely he could do something for Harry that I couldn't. As long as he doesn't send him to his Aunt's house. Now, what was her name? Did it start with a 'P'? Or was it a 'D'? Either way, the horrible woman doesn't deserve Harry Potter. Besides all the horrible stuff Lily's hinted about her, the woman has a horrible taste in vases.
Oh Merlin. I'm in prison and rattling on about vases. I've heard that Azkaban makes people go insane, but surely that wouldn't kick in this soon, would it? Surely not. Besides I'll surely not be in here all that terribly long. I'm sure they'll catch that RAT one of these days, and then they'll know. I'm content to serve punishment for my part in the thing, but only if Peter gets what's coming to him.
If only I'd have killed him when I had the chance, and screw the Statute of bloomin' Secrecy. Anyways, I'm sure that all went up in smoke once Peter blew up half the bloody street. And the street had ended up bloody… If only I hadn't been so protective of the Muggles I could have murdered him easily. And oh how my family would rejoice at that thought, if only it hadn't come nearly twelve years too late. Ironically, none of my beloved family is in the clink just yet. Just me, the black sheep of the black-hearted Black clan. Of course, they wouldn't have been happy about me killing their precious Lord's key spy, now would they. Although, the thought of old Petey being the key to anything is laughable. But the thought that he was able to pull the whole thing off because he's rather unassuming is…sobering.
If I only had one clear shot at old Pete…he wouldn't know what hit him. I'd show them all and commit the crime I was jailed for. And chucked in prison without a trial too. Not that I'd argue my own case much, guilty of conscious as I am, but it's the principal of the thing, I suppose. I've become the deviant Mother always told me I'd be, mark her words. The old dear is either crying her faking little eyes out or sending extra candy and her love to Regulus. Poor git can't move an inch without her smothering him with love. Or as close to love as the old bat can get, which isn't very close. Even Kreacher has a better idea of love, even if it poorly placed on my mother and Reg.
Oh. Looks like I spoke too soon on the whole 'only Black in the clink,' thing. Here comes a hysterical and bone-chilling laugh that I'd know anywhere. Used to give me the chills as a kid. Especially when she'd hide in my closet, wait until the middle of the night, and jump out at me with scissors. To give me a haircut, you know, on my dear mother's orders of course. Somehow I don't think dear old Mum said to jump out of my closet in the middle of the night laughing like a maniac. But that's all water under the bridge now. Bellatrix is in prison, Bellatrix is in prison, Bella's in prison. And she'll never ever escape! I could sing. Well, if it weren't for the fact that happy song would bring a hundred or so dementors to crowd around my cell. Oh, and the fact that I am also an inhabitant of Azkaban…
I wish there were some way to confuse the dementors, and mess with their little dementor minds a little…
Wouldn't that make this place more bearable, though?
Then I'd have to live longer in this hell hole…
But I'd have more time to find a way to kill Peter…
Anything that let's me do that is worth a shot, isn't it?
Can dementors feed off animals?
Tell me what you think. Constructive criticism and compliments are welcomed with cookies. :)