Lost Memories

Lost Memories

She watched from behind the glass window of the store across the street, her face cloaked and hidden by the hood of her heavy robes. She gripped her wand hidden in her sleeve as the massive black dog knocked over another garbage can. They both watched it clatter onto the pavement, but the dog was the only of the two that suddenly tensed, ears pricked, listening. Her eyes narrowed as the dog clambered into an upright garbage can, his shaggy hindquarters disappearing seconds before a formidable-looking woman with a large...

...is that a crocodile skin handbag?

'My, my, Rita Skeeter. You've grown even tackier since our school days.'

She snorted from her hiding spot, but quickly quieted herself when a warlock glared at her over the book- The Gestation Cycle of a Flobberworm- he was reading.

When she returned her gaze to the window with bad memories of Care of Magical Creatures in her head, Skeeter had passed and the dog had emerged from his hiding spot. His now very dirty head was visible from the top of the can, and appeared to be wheezing a dog-like laugh.

'Yes, you would be one to still laugh, even after what you've done,' She thought darkly.

The dog had apparently finished with his business and began to trot up the street, a slightly fuzzy turkey leg between his teeth.

She hurried out of the shop and gazed down the deserted street at the disappearing figure, staying close to the wall. A pair of Omnioculars materialized from her pocket and she pressed them to her eyes, catching a black blur start up the mountain behind Hogsmeade.

She stood there for what seemed like a very long time, until she could no longer see the figure moving up the mountain.

Fixing the Omnioculars on the point the dog disappeared; she focused in and found the entrance to a small cave.

'Well, well, my dear old friend, what have we here?' She thought sarcastically.

Memorizing the location, she moved down the deserted alley and turned onto the main street. She settled herself into a booth at the Three Broomsticks, resolved to remain there until nightfall when her trek up the mountainside would be less conspicuous.

Glancing around the room from the cover of her hood, her eyes rested upon a familiar table that was now occupied by a couple of rambunctious happy youths.

She heaved a great sigh, remembering a day where she too had sat in that very table, all laughs and smiles and warm feelings, totally unaware of the death, betrayal, and loneliness that the Fates had in store.

She turned away from the teenagers, unable to stand the sight of something she once cherished, only to have it ripped away. Instead she gazed out the window.

Her gaze her on the mountain, on the spot where the very reason of all her pain resided.

She traced the outline of her later destination, an utter and complete feeling of loneliness taking over her entire being.

"Oh Sirius," she whispered. "Why?"

~ ~ ~

A figure staggered out of the back entrance to the Three Broomsticks, breathing hard.

'He looked so much like Remus...'

Her eyes were squeezed shut as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

'Remus, my old friend. How I miss you. Where are you now? Why did you run?'

She deftly wiped the tears away before standing up straight and squaring her shoulders.

'It was all those students getting to me, reminding me of my school days...my mind was just playing tricks.'

She nodded to herself, as if trying to convince herself, and started around the bar to the main street. She turned off at Dervish & Banges and silently, unobtrusively made her way to the foot of the mountain. Casting a Nontare Charm, she paused to gather her wits and get a strong grip on her wand, hidden under her sleeve.

~ ~ ~

Stealthily, she crept towards the fissure in the rock, plastered to the mountainside. She could see a light, very faint, but still a streaming piece of evidence that someone resided in the cave.

'Getting a little sloppy, are we?' She thought wryly.

She stopped dead just inches from the opening; a faint muttering drifted through into the warm May air.

"'Azkaban Escapee Spotted in Cornwall on March 27^th.' Must be more careful, Sirius old boy, it's almost time..."

The voice was scratchier then she remembered, more worn sounding. He sounded delirious, like a man holding onto his last shred of sanity.

Pushing down all emotion, she slithered around the corner and into the cave. He was crouched on the ground, his back towards the opening bending over a flame of fire with a yellowed newspaper in his hand. The bones of his vertebrae were painfully visible through the tattered, threadbare robe he wore, and his hair was matted and weaved with leaves and grass, and twisted to the side over his shoulder.

He was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. She started to creep up behind him.

"This time I'll get him," he was muttering. "He won't escape through the sewers this time. Wormtail will not scurry away this time."

She thrust the tip of her wand to his throat and growled in his ear. "Don't you fucking move Sirius Black."

He went rigid.