AN Disclaimer Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling I own nothing. This is fanfiction, I make no money out of this whatsoever. For those reading Island of Hope I haven't abandoned it, don't worry, I'm just working on a few other things and it will still be updated. Now that's out of the way...
A Godfather's Bond
Harry bit back a cry. He had just brought his school report home which said he had turned the teacher's hair blue and to say Uncle Vernon was angry would be an understatement. The moment he had read that sentence in the report he had let out a cry of rage and charged forward. What had followed had been one of his worst beatings.
Now he lay in his cupboard, curled up in a tiny ball, trying to alleviate the pain of dozens of bruises and at least one broken bone, trying desperately not to cry. If he started and his uncle heard him the beating he had already received would seem like a warm up in comparison. Pain flared up in his wrist as he shifted position and he couldn't help the hiss of pain the escaped his lips. Instantly he heard Uncle Vernon yell from the sitting room. "Shut up freak, if I hear another noise..." He didn't need to finish the sentence, Harry knew what would happen, it had happened before and it would happen again unless he could manage to keep control.
Gradually the rest of the household went to bed and once he had heard his uncle's heavy trend go up the stairs, he could finally allow the soft tears to slip down his face. It was at times like this he wished more than anything that somebody, anybody would come to take him away. Take him from the beatings and the chores, from the punishments and the hate. He knew it would never happen, he was a freak and he had been stuck with his decent, hardworking relatives. He knew he deserved every beating he got and he supposed that nobody else would ever want him, the Dursleys certainly didn't.
But it didn't stop him from dreaming, stop him from dreaming that one day somebody would come, somebody who would care for him, look after him, take him away from the beatings and punishments. It was just a dream but that didn't stop him hoping, stop him begging to whatever gods might be listening that tomorrow would be the day somebody would come.
He had been making too much noise. Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and the door to his cupboard was yanked open, the large figure of his uncle filling the doorway. "Right, I warned you freak." Harry couldn't do anything more than whimper as his uncle dragged the six year old out of his cupboard by the throat and proceeded to beat him.
Pain lanced through him as already bruised skin was assaulted a second time that day and agony flared through him as his broken wrist protested. He could taste blood in his mouth. Breathing heavily he uncle threw him back in his cupboard, locking the bolt as soon as the door closed. Harry landed hard, straight on his wrist. Agony coursed through him and it was all he could do to clench his teeth to prevent the scream. Tears slipped down his face, an unstoppable river. Frantically he shifted so his wrist was no longer trapped under the rest of his, admittedly light, body.
It didn't make much difference. Agony still flowed through him and driven past what his six year body could endure he lashed out. All his pain, anger, fear, hope bundled together and thrown out with one last desperate plea, come, please, anybody just come.
Azkaban was cold and dark, haunted by the foulest creatures known to man and echoing to the cries of the mad and tormented. In the midst of the screams and despair, a gaunt man, his handsome features marred by five years of pain and despair lay in his filthy cell. I'm innocent, I'm innocent, I'm innocent, I'm innocent. The mantra beat round his head. It was the only reason he could stay sane, stay aware, fend off madness. They couldn't take it from him, couldn't make him forget.
And the few hours of early nightfall were a blessing. The dementors withdrew at night. They were not needed. The nightmares were enough to strike fear in the heart of every inmate and help drive them to madness. But for Sirius Black the few dementor free hours before he had to sleep were a gift. By using his animagus form he could stave them off slightly in the day and these few hours he was able to think of positive things, remember a few of the good times and check on Harry.
It was a nightly ritual. He would remember the marauders, check on Harry and then remember Harry as a baby before going to sleep. It helped with the nightmares but didn't banish them completely. This night was no different, after enjoying the memories of his Hogwarts days, pranks, full moons, animagus training, he prepared to check on Harry.
Unknown to everyone apart from himself, Lily and James, when he had become godfather they had evoked the old family magics to enforce this. It was a second line of protection and Sirius had been and was still utterly devoted to his young godson. The magic they had used had created a bond between them. It meant that he was able to locate Harry, no matter where he was and even through a fidelus, but it was the second part he found most useful, it enabled him to feel Harry's emotions through the bond, see if he was in pain or happy and that was what he used to try to check on his godson.
But every night it came up blank. He knew Harry was alive, if he had died the bond would have broken and he could still feel the pulse of magic connecting him to his godson. But when he tried to feel his emotions, something that should work, regardless of distance, nothing. He hoped it was because Harry was happy and his happiness couldn't pass through the aura of misery that shrouded Azkaban like mist. But he couldn't stop the nagging doubts that plagued him, what if he wasn't and his sadness was just getting lost in his own pain and the fear of Azkaban.
Sighing he left the connection and dived straight into the memories he had of Harry's childhood. Suddenly the magic prickled. He sat up instantly, he had felt something from the bond, something that had not happened in five years, five long years. Worry pulsed through him, was the magic breaking, was something wrong?
It flared again and he felt relief sweep through him. The bond was not breaking, Harry was still alive and the feelings were coming through the emotion side of the bond. Something was breaking through whatever had held the emotions back. He was not prepared for when it hit.
Fear. Pain. Loneliness. Terror. They broke through him like a wave and left him gasping from their strength. Seconds later rage coursed through him. Harry was hurt, his puppy was being hurt and there was nothing he could do. At that moment he knew what he had to do. He would escape, go to Harry. He couldn't stay here when Harry was hurting. Lily and James had appointed him godfather and trusted him to care for Harry when they could not and he had failed them. He wouldn't fail them again.
He would get no sleep that night. He had to work out a way to escape the one place nobody had every escaped. But he would do it, for Harry, for his friends. He had one advantage, only two other people knew he was an animagus and neither were in any position to tell.
Hello dear readers, and welcome to this story, hope you all enjoy it and for your information, updates will occur roughly weekly, although early chapters may go up faster.
Enjoy and please review! :)
PS One of my dear readers was kind enough to point out I had made a mistake with the timescale, so I have just adjusted the number of years Sirius has been in Azkaban. Also in this Harry is six, nearly seven. It is the June before his seventh birthday.