Musings of Sirius Black

The walls were lined with mildew and blood. Encrusted, dried blood from underneath his fingernails from years ago when clawing his way out seemed the only possible escape. The bars on Sirius Black's cell were damp with the thick moisture that remained after a dementor approached too closely; close enough that its cold steely breath penetrated the metal, almost rotting it. The stench of sweat and urine filled Sirius' nostrils and he turned his head to gag. Stalking by a dementor stopped, fronting itself before Sirius' cell. It hovered there trying desperately to draw out some remnant of pleasure.

I am innocent, I am innocent, I am innocent, I am innocent.

The thought did not distract the dementor fully, for did not reproach as it customarily had. They were hungry tonight... Sirius, although with barely the strength, raised his emaciated frame from the floor using the bars as his aid. He walked, slowly, over to the window and tried to smell the fresh air. As a breeze fluttered through and reached his nose, he grinned. The scent of Fall was hovering in the air. Sirius shifted his glazed stare over to the wall and his eyes fell upon dark markings which he had long ago carved as denotations of time. He based them on the intervals of the full moon. It was nearly September now, and England had a temped frost arising as the evening closed into nightfall. His gaze returned out towards the window and rested this evening's full moon. A prick of joy entered his heart as thoughts of his friends flashed across his mind. They quickly faded, however, as he recalled the death of James, Peter's betrayal, and the blame he had silently placed on Remus, a blame which must have by now been realized and met with disdain. The dementor still, patiently stalked Sirius waiting for that joy to return.

"Go away," Sirius hissed angrily. It did not obey.

"Have it your way." With a sharp turn on his heel, Sirius changed quickly into Padfoot. The dementor flecked back, confused, then satisfied that it had succeed in bringing about another mirthless life reduced to misery, it headed over to the next cell. As a dog, Sirius curled onto the floor and pensively remembered. The pain brought by the loss of his friends was not as deep in his Animagus form...nor was the joy. However, thoughts of them brought him comfort and helped his escape the nightmare that his life had become.

***

"Benthrall, Lucian." McGonagall announced. A small, shivering boy awkwardly rose from his seat and approached the stool which awaited an occupant.

"Five knuts he's a Hufflepuff." Sirius stated to his newly acquired companion. James shifted his glance sideways and said with a definitive voice, "No go. He's a Hufflepuff."

The sorting hat did not wait long to administer its answer before it cried, "Hufflepuff!" Lucian looked relieved to be out of the chair as he dashed to meet the cheering group of Hufflepuffs who shifted on their benches to make room for their newest addition.

"Black, Sirius."

"Ten knuts you're a Slytherin," James stated with a devilish flash in his eyes.

"You're on. Double or nothing I go to Ravenclaw." Sirius walked over in an arrogant strut. Without grace, he smugly placed the well-worn hat on his head and crossed his arms confidently over his chest.

Hmm...complicated... You like to cause your share of mischief, don't you? Certainly a Slytherin streak. But ambition for causing havoc is not enough. Ahhh...here I see some rather interesting traits. You are quite the enigma aren't you? Very intelligent, but not predominately so. It paused in its ramblings. Quite loyal. It stopped again, causing pangs of tension to course through Sirius' veins. Finally after long debate it shouted, "Gryffindor!"

He removed the hat reluctantly and silently headed over to the table. Puzzled, he took his seat and eyed James Potter who looked equally shocked. Although he had often been called ballsy, brave was not a trait Sirius thought he possessed, or at least one that hadn't been tested. From his bag, he withdrew a piece of parchment and began jotting down names as they were called and next to each, along with somewhat snide comments, his predictions. He could see that James was doing the same.

"Lupin, Remus." A tall broad-shouldered boy with light brown hair rose from his chair. He walked over, a clear apprehension in his stride. Reluctantly, the boy took the hat and placed it on his head. Sirius saw that boy's eyes--- before they succumbed to the breadth of the hat's rim---harbored dark circles underneath them. They were a very odd amber-like color. Sirius wrote quickly in his notebook:

Lupin, tired fellow, Hufflepuff.

Sirius turned his head to James who was mouthing the words: "Hufflepuff" very distinctly. Sirius nodded in agreement. The hat was taking quite long, however in its reluctant decision.

Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, the boy thought desperately.

Well...well...let me see. Exceedingly intelligent, clever. Let's look here. Loyal, yes. What is this? The hat paused and Remus cringed. A dark side? No, not really. Oh! a dark creature. You have been tested quite a lot in life. I think, all else aside that there is no choice but, "Gryffindor!"

A sigh escaped his lips and Remus took a seat at the Gryffindor table.

"Sirius Black." Sirius put out his hand and quickly closed his notebook. Remus took it, still out of breath from the brief moment of panic.

"Remus Lupin. Took quite a while there, huh?" Sirius shrugged and grinned in response.

"Me too, you know. I think that's because I like to get into trouble and it confused the hat." He raised his eyebrow to make a point and contemplate his next thought. "I've decided that you must be a trouble maker yourself. Good to know you." He grinned. So did Remus.

"Pettigrew, Peter." A small rather plump blond boy walked over to the stool and carefully placed the hat over his round head. Unlike it had on many others, it did not fall into his large blue eyes. This boy looked very young, cute with a child-like disposition.

You've had a very difficult life, my dear. Full of ridicule, yes? Ah...I thought so. Takes a lot to stand up and defend yourself. Let me see. Looks like you want to be accepted, so you will be good to your friends. I see a devilish side to you, you must be a trouble maker as well. Well, all in good fun, "Gryffindor!"

Peter smiled pleased as he headed for the table. Sirius signaled with his hand to join himself and Remus. "Sirius Black, prankster extraordinaire. This here is Remus Lupin and he likes to keep one hand in the cookie jar as well. I was thinking that perhaps if the hat takes a long time, then it sees the makings of a respectable havoc wrecker and we should all become acquainted. As soon as possible. Oh! Look, it's James."

Peter's eyes widened with amazement. Just sitting next to Sirius Black was a draining and exuberant experience.

"Potter, James." The hat sat only for a moment on James' head before it shouted, "Gryffindor!" There was no thinking, no contemplation. It was one of the fastest responses the class had yet seen. He took his place next to Sirius and his small gathering. Sirius' hand was raised high and in a muggle gesture, James slapped it with a grin. After waiting through the rest of the sorting ceremony, no one particularly appealed to Sirius, at least not in the sense that he would want to call them over. They were missing a glint in their eyes; it was something James, Peter, and Remus possessed, some flicker of magic and fun.

"It looks like it's us. The four of us." Sirius paused, trying to think of the perfect expression. "We can be...fun loving criminals?" He offered.

"Marauders." Remus countered. There was gentleness to his hoarse voice.

"I like that." Peter added and James nodded in concurrence.

"I think," Sirius put his hand palm down. James placed his own over Sirius' "that this will be," Remus' hand went over James', "the start of a beautiful friendship." Peter capped the heap with his small hand. A grin playing on his lips.

That it was.

***

The large dog padded over to the edge of the cell in order to get a better sense of the dementor's location. Although the cold did not affect Padfoot the way it would Sirius, the canine could smell the repugnant air of death that exuded from the dark creature. Sirius walked in circles, mindlessly, aimlessly--trying desperately to maintain thought of pleasure while he could, before the dementors had any chance to draw the life out of him, to breathe in his essence, to revoke the spirit that once made Sirius Black who he was. He didn't want to be robbed of the young man he once knew. Every day however, he felt it slipping carelessly away. He decided upon a less pleasant memory instead.

***

"The boggart. Simple creature really, it is," Professor Thymes stated with an air of drama to his voice. "Many wizards much older than yourselves have died in its presence and yet, it is totally harmless. Can any of you tell me what a boggart can do, what its abilities entail?" The old professor raised his eyebrow in curious punctuation. "No?" The class was silent. After a few moments had passed, a small red-haired girl shyly raised her hand from the back of the classroom.

"It can transform into anything. It is normally shapeless, but when faced with a spectator, it transforms into what that person fears most in life."

"Good, good Miss Evans."

Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned into James Potter who sat next to him on his left. "For someone so quiet, she has an awful lot to say." James nodded in agreement. Although quite reserved in demeanor, Lily Evans almost always had the something to contribute. She would wait until absolutely no one else volunteered, and then her hand would dart precociously into the air with her verbal offerings.

"There is a spell, however, that can counter act the boggart. It is called the riddikulus curse. When faced with your boggart's transformation, state the words and it will be rendered harmless. That is, of course, if you can imagine your fear in a comical manner first. This is a simple verbal provocation, but the conception is a difficult one. Mr. Lupin" Professor Thyme called and Remus' head shot up immediately. "Would you please help me out here?"

Remus shook his head from his seat and gripped the desk with white knuckles. His was the highest grade in the class, even above Lily Evans, and this was the reason for which he was called to assist in the rare practical demonstration.

Professor Thyme grinned awkwardly. "Please, it won't be very difficult for you. If you would approach." His tone was not entirely pleasant, and the hint of demand caused Remus to reluctantly comply. Slowly he walked to the front of the class and stood in tight rapt attention, his hands clamped to his side.

"Take out your wand." Remus did as he was directed.

Please set off a dungbomb. He silently willed to Sirius Black, however the other boy was far too entertained to distract the professor's attention.

"I'm going to release it now, ready?" The professor's hands were raised, a tattered cardboard box held in between his two palms. Although he was not, Remus nodded his head. He felt the overwhelming desire to close his eyes and hope someone else's gaze would dictate the form of the boggart, but he realized he could not.

Before he could think of an excuse to retreat, the box was opened and thick white mist clouded in front of his small frame. It soon began to meld into a circular shape spinning into a large, knotted orb. The knot relaxed and the boggart's ambiguous form smoothed out and turned into a rich, sliver-colored circle which perpetuated in three dimensions. Gasps weakly echoed from the crowd behind him and Professor Thyme looked at the boy with a very puzzled expression on his face. Reddened with anger and embarrassment, Remus shouted "riddikulus" at the boggart which, in turn, apparated into a wedge of cheese. The class laughed and clapped and the professor quickly turned to the boggart, which when faced with its new challenger turned into a bloody-toothed vampire, and muttered a command that extinguished the vampire entirely. He stuffed the remaining boggart into the box which earlier housed it and wiped the beginnings of sweat from his forehead.

"Excellent!" Professor Thyme loudly exclaimed. "First try, too. I am very impressed." A more genuine smile fell cross the older wizards lips. He leaned in near Remus' ear and whispered, "Please remain after class is dismissed." Remus sighed and headed back towards his seat behind Peter Pettigrew. Immediately he collapsed into his chair and dropped his head into his arms on the surface of the desk. Shocks of tawny hair fell over his black robes.

"You will all get your chance at one point this year to try the same feat, and I am sure you will do just as well. Think of something now that is comical, for when I call on you, and it will be randomly, and I will expect you to be prepared." The class fell to its end shortly after the demonstration. Remus made no indication to move.

"Hey, genius boy," Sirius began "you coming?"

"He wanted me to stay after for a minute, I'll catch up to you later."

James crossed his arms pensively. "He can't be mad at you today, I mean, even if you do have an irrational fear of extraordinarily large galleons. Peter, James, and Sirius laughed and Remus forced a solemn smile.

"Yeah, well...." His thoughts trailed off as the professor approached. The trio exited quickly and headed to the great hall for their afternoon meal.

"I want one." Sirius stated, blue eyes vibrant and wide with desire. When he was met with two puzzled glares, he clarified: "a boggart. That was one of the coolest things ever." Ravenously, he dug into his food. With a mouthful, he continued, "'Magine what we could pull on Severus!" He swallowed. "I'll bet he's afraid of a shampoo bottle." He choked on some food as he laughed at his own joke.

"And what would you see? An empty plate?" James wryly commented. This brought another round of laughter, but Peter remained quiet, contemplatively.

"Do you really think that Remus saw a big galleon?" He questioned. The laughing abruptly ceased. There was a void of silence. "It's just---that doesn't make any sense. Remus doesn't scare easily and it's just---why would he be afraid of money?"

The question was a good one, though Peter felt stupid for asking it especially when Sirius countered, "He's afraid of being poor you git!"

James maintained his silence, thinking about Peter's observant deduction. As the three continued eating and long after Remus rejoined the group, James sat silently in thought.

Later that evening, when Remus and Peter had retired to the common room to begin the latter's Dark Arts tutoring session, James sat dedicatedly poring over opened books which possessed every inch of his red and yellow bedspread.

"What the hell have you been doing for two hours?" Sirius questioned, shoving aside several of James' literary companions and taking a seat near the headboard. He leaned against it casually and blew a stray strand of dark black hair out of his eyes.

"Putting together pieces of the puzzle." James enigmatically replied, his eyes not moving from the wrinkled pages of "Hunted Evil: the Dark Creatures of Britain." Sirius closed the book that had so captured his friend's attention, and gave James an irritated look.

"Could you be a bit less ominous?" His jaw was set tight awaiting James' response.

"We've all had the discussion before about why Remus' family is so often ill, and so regularly...I know you didn't want to press him, his privacy and all, but in light of today." James entered into a reflective reverie.

"In light of today..." Sirius impatiently tried to draw his partner in crime to continue in thought.

"That wasn't a galleon. Peter was right: it doesn't make sense. I mean, when was the last time we saw Remus truly jarred by anything. Getting up in front of class today petrified him far more than it should have." Sirius' attention was raptly held, no sly commentary escaping his lips. James continued. "We've seen him play with these disgusting creatures that lurk in the Forbidden Forest and yet...he didn't want to face his boggart today. He's not so cowardice that he couldn't deal with an apparition."

"No, he's not."

"He was afraid that we'd all know when we saw his boggart what he's been hiding from us for two years." James' voice fell deeply low and serious as though they were formulating an ill-intended plan.

"Sirius, his boggart was the moon." He offered no more as dark realization crept over Sirius warm features. The pink in his cheeks fell away in a flush, the crisp, wild blue of his eyes darkened a shade as his pupils grew wide.

"He isn't, James. That can't be right." As though on cue, Remus and Peter walked in thorough the door, the former laughing a loud, belly aching laugh. Peter followed shamed, pink bunny ears spurting out from between strands of his golden hair.

"I'm gonna need your help reversing this. Peter--" Remus' joyous tone fell silent as his eyes met with Sirius' face. There, James and Sirius sat, jaws dropped open almost fearfully. They looked pale. With deliberate steps, Remus approached the bed and withdrew the book that James held loosely in his hands. As Remus took it in his own, James tightened his grip. Defiantly, Remus ripped the book only succeeding in pulling off the cover.

"Hunted Evil: the Dark Creatures of Britain." His voice caught tightly as the title spilled between his lips. Remus felt his face rush with the rapid heat of blood, and bile rose to the top of his throat. He shifted his gaze up to his friends who sat frightfully on the bed. He dropped the book cover and ran out of the room with vivid speed, the door slamming behind him. The three others gave chase but were no match for the adrenaline that coursed through Remus' veins. He did not attended class for three days and only returned to the room after a fortnight had passed.

***

The dementor that hovered so closely finally stalked off to a nearby cell occupant. Padfoot's ears perked as he heard the gasps seep out from between the other prisoner's bars followed by the maddening cry of a mentally tortured man. Sirius Black regained his human form and shook, slowly losing his composure with each tremble of this thin physique. He let out a quick, sharp breath, the pain of the cold burning his lungs like liquid fire. He coughed, a small puff of moist vapor forming from his lips. He longed for a robe, his schoolboy cloak, or anything that could create a remotely warm environment.

Silence once again permeated the cellblocks of Azkaban, the only sound besides his own pacing was the uneven breathing of his next-cell companion. A loud hiss of a whisper was spoken underneath his window which resided several feet above his head. He approached it, rapidly, eager to hear the sound of another human voice. It was that of two guards, a set of the rare wizard ones. Another shift was over and they were heading to catch the boat back home.

"I 'ear 'e's getting married next week. Is that true?"

"Now, I'm not quite sure, Ellie but I reckon that is true." The voices sounded as though their owners were rather advanced in age. The accent was similar to a poor cockney bloke.

"Oh! Darcy, did you 'ear? The boy who lived did it again. 'e defeated that terrible...You-know-who! This time, the Dark Lord was trying to steal the soul of some poor little girl. I think it was a Weasley. The picture showed a red-headed child, she must be a Weasley." Sirius could hear the rustlings of a paper being opened and sorted through. Various gasps were made by the old man as he read.

"That L'il 'arry Potter is a remarkable boy, isn't 'e? Shame 'is parents aren't here to see all that 'e's accomplished. 'ere 'e is in a picture with that wizard, the Vampire 'unter? Lockhart it says."

Inside, Sirius' stomach dropped at the mention of Harry and the reference to James and Lily's deaths. He felt the ache spread through his veins like spiders crawling under his flesh. The conversation below continued.

"Lockhart...'e's a weird one. Always smiling that man is. A peculiar smile too. It says 'ere that 'e resigned from 'is teaching position from 'ogwarts. Taught Defense Against the Darks Arts. Hm..." there was a pause. "My granddaughter goes there, she's a fifth year, and she was telling me that they drop out like flies in that school. 'aven't kept a Dark Arts teacher more than a year. Maybe it's cursed."

"Ellie, I was talking with the 'eadmaster the other day and 'e was tellin' me that he was going to try to recruit that quiet young man from London. The one who we always see walking around town. Doesn't even have a broom that one! If Gilderory Lockhart can't do that job, you think that gaunt sickly wizard can? I mean, one boggart and 'e'll run." The two laughed and Sirius pressed his ear nearer to the cool stones which made up the wall below the window.

"No, I know that boy! I do. Used to see 'im in Broomsticks with," the old woman lowered her voice as though she was repeating a dirty limerick, "that one, up there." Sirius wondered if they were pointing in his direction.

"Potter's friend, too. Smart little boy 'e was. Sad how 'is life turned out, isn't it? Seems everyone who knew Sirius Black is either dead or so poor that they wish they were. Pity. They were all smart fellows. Anyway, seems 'e's getting' a break. What was 'is name?"

"Don't know, Ellie, you used to be in Broomsticks more than I."

"Hm...Lou something? It musta been Lou. Anyway, don't remember."

"There's the boat!" the old man shouted. "Let's go. I 'ate this place." Sirius could hear one of the older wizards spit underneath his window before they trodded off.

He paused and slowly retreated away from the wall, still shaking at the mention of Harry's name. "Lou?" he asked aloud, his mind a fog of clouded thoughts. He could barely remember his own name. The dementors approached once again.

"Lupin," he stated in calm realization. "Lupin," He didn't remember his friend being gaunt twelve years ago...then again, if he hadn't been able to find work...Sirius' thoughts trailed off as he sank into a huddle on the floor, crouching into a small, tight ball, evading his eyes from the cold stillness of the Azkaban guard.

***

Sirius took a long, last swig of his butterbeer before casting the bottle over the edge of the bluff. It spun out into the darkness of the night, making a hollow whistle as air caught its lip.

"I know it's poor of me, but I really hate this. I don't hate her per se, but I don't like her." Sirius' head dropped low, the glint of joy in his eyes, gone.

"It's not like he's making a choice, you know. Her over you--"

"Over us." Sirius interrupted Remus' rationalization.

"Fine, over us then." He took a swig off his own bottle, rolling the liquid over his tongue. He swallowed. "He loves her. You should be handling this better."

"I just," Sirius shrugged his shoulders, "I want it to be like it used to. You know, the four of us. Marauders. Peter is struggling with his own problems, retaking the O.W.L.s and all...and now James? Whatever happened to Moony Wormtail Padfoot and Prongs? It feels like Moony and Padfoot are the only ones left."
Remus twisted his brow into a tight look of frustration. "That's not fair, Sirius. 'James and Lily' is a new concept for them. They're just enjoying the freshness of their relationship. Peter has worked very hard this year, staying for tutoring and all. I mean, he's a lot brighter than anyone believes...he just gets distracted. They both have made a point to be with me every full moon and I won't allow you to abstain from giving them the credit they deserve. Besides, Lily has been very good to you--"

"And she should be! I am James' best friend. Just because there is a 'James and Lily' there is no reason it can't be four of use like it once was--"

Remus abruptly interrupted Sirius this time. "We are not children. Sirius, we're nearly eighteen years old. Each of us will have to move on with our lives, find ourselves, find a job..." his voice lapsed. Everyone had found a job at this point, even Peter was working for the Ministry. Strict doctrine about employing werewolves was greatly adhered to in all lines of government. Not that any official policy was necessary: no one in his right mind would ever hire a werewolf.

"I know, I know." Sirius stated in a defeated tone. "I'm being selfish. I miss him that's all. I miss the concept of 'us,' of the Marauders." His shoulders were slumped forward as he opened another bottle of butterbeer.

Remus withdrew a thoroughly used piece of parchment from his black school bag. He looked at it absently and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The familiar words: "Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present the Marauder's Map" appeared across its ledger. Underneath, in the small handwriting that belonged to Peter, was written: "Hello Moony." Sirius' distinct and scrawling script followed. "Do I smell dog breath?" Next came James' controlled, neat cursive. "Nah, Padfoot, I think it's yours." The scroll finally relinquished the scope of the map. Hogsmeade was exquisitely detailed, the cliff over-looking the water showed two figures with Black and Lupin written nearby. A smile took over Remus' lips.

"We will always be this. This is our legacy, Padfoot. You know, no matter what happens, we will be immortalized on this parchment as Hogwarts' legendary Marauder's and nothing can ever change that." His voice was hoarse and quiet, gentle and calm despite its roughness. "Think of it," he waved his hand over the sky in front of them as if wiping a board clean, "one of our children stumbling upon the Map using it to get back at a Severus Snape of his own. One just as greasy and sinister. Or sneaking into Hogsmeade well before his third year, surely causing irreparable damage at Honeydukes." A devious grin overtook the drawn look on Sirius' face.

"I'm telling you, his boggart is a bottle of shampoo." Sirius knowingly stated.

"Better than a giant galleon." Remus said mockingly and gave Sirius' arm a light punch.

***

"He's in here, sir." Sirius could here the heavy footsteps of a man approaching his cell.

"Good, good. I can take it from here, Jebson." It was the grossly familiar voice of Minister Fudge doing his monthly inspection of Azkaban. Sirius rolled his eyes dully, the idea of conversing with Fudge not being high on his priority list. However, the Minister's presence meant that the dementors would have to be cleared out. The sound of a heavy steel door being slowly pried open hit Sirius' ears. He straightened in his cell.

"Ah...hello Black." Sirius recognized that Fudge's attempt at conversation was merely a method by which to assess the prisoner's state of mind.

"Hello." He wouldn't give him much.

"Eating enough, Black? Looking kinda thin." Fudge was always cruel with his taunts. Just as Sirius was about to reply with a snide remark, the sight of a newspaper in Fudge's hand caught his eye. Perhaps if he played nice he could get a look at it. He was curious to read the articles the two guards had mentioned, aching to see a picture of his godson grown up.

"Yeah, well...no house elves here." He forced a grin with a much effort as he could muster. "Sir, mind if I have a look at that paper? I miss doing the crossword puzzles." A look of both shock and awe crossed Fudge's plump face. He gripped the Daily Prophet more tightly in his hand.

"I--I don't think that's really..." He raised as eyebrow contemplating the prisoner in front of him. He was the most heavily guarded in Azkaban and yet, though physically disheveled, his mind appeared in tact. Images of Sirius playing on the Hogwarts grounds as a young child flashed across his mind. As he recalled the devious, yet infectious grin that Sirius practically indelibly wore, warmth flooded through him. Looking now at the pitiful creature before him, it was hard to remember the jovial youth that had once tried to cast a kaepskcab spell on him. Fudge handed him the paper absent-mindedly. "Here."

Sirius took it eagerly. It was yesterday's. He tried not to let his face fall in disappointment as he uttered, "Thanks," and tried to sound grateful. Fudge smiled a confused grin at him and wandered off to inspect the other cells.

Sirius slammed the paper onto the floor and cursed. He sunk along the side of the wall and dropped with a thud to the floor. He crossed his arms over his bony knees and buried his face in the crook of them. Holding in a sob that tightly lodged in his throat caused a painful burn to rise up into his mouth with a bitterness of metal. His eyes blurred with tears as he shifted his gaze over to the paper that remained neatly folded on the floor. The headline read: Ministry of Magic Employee Scoops Grand Prize. Quickly his eyes scanned the picture of the happy Weasley family waving back vigorously at him. They stopped on a young boy who appeared to be about Harry's age. His eyes narrowed in scrutiny as he picked up the paper and brought the front page closer to his nose. There, sitting on the young boy's shoulder was Wormtail.

"My god..." was all he could say. His mind raced with possibilities. Underneath the picture the caption read: Five of the Weasley children L-R Fred, George, Ron (pictured with Scabbers), Percy, and Ginny will continue their education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the Fall.

"Scabbers?" It didn't matter what the caption said, that was Peter Pettigrew sitting on Ron Weasley's shoulder, Sirius was sure of it. "He's alive," a rush o hope ran though him. Like a siren calling, the dementors flooded outside the bars of his cell in hungry fever. Immediately, Sirius turned into Padfoot and paced the floor--thinking--planning--desperately formulating in his mind a surefire escape plan.

***

"Take it, kid." Sirius handed the baby a small plastic dog which Harry promptly placed in his mouth. The sounds of teething emanated from his lips.

"Don't let him choke!" Lily called from the kitchen. James sat in his favorite armchair across from Sirius who sat crossed-legged on the floor. His hands were folded as though praying; they lightly touched his lips. He was silent for a long time. Finally, he spoke.

"I don't like this idea. Peter is just not capable of performing that level of magic. It's far too complicated a spell."

"Then I'll help him. Trust me. This is the only way to preserve all our lives." He pleaded desperately with James. "No one will ever think that you'd use Peter for the exact reason that you don't want to. He is gravely lacking talent, although he does make up for it in loyalty. It is the only way. I mean, if they load me with veriserum--"

"I don't like this idea!" James emphatically shouted as he abruptly stood up from his chair. Lily appeared in the threshold between the kitchen and living room. She was drying her hands with a towel.

"We don't have a lot of time, Sirius. Dumbledore has warned us that--" she began.

Rising to his feet, Sirius interjected, "That is precisely why we need to do this tomorrow night." He added darkly, "With Peter."

"Why not Remus then? He is more than capable of performing the Fidelius Charm without any assistance. While he was doing that, it would leave you free to throw red herrings all over town. What." It wasn't a question. James watched as Sirius eyes shifted downward at the suggestion. "You're not still on that idiotic notion that Remus is spying for Voldemort, are you?" Sirius was silent. James threw his hands up in frustration. "He wouldn't ever betray me, no more than you, or Peter or even Lily would."

Finally, Sirius looked up. "Voldemort can offer him things that no one else can. I've heard of the possibility of cures, of exotic remedies! You know how he loathes being a werewolf. You've heard him say on more than one occasion that he would do anything to escape that fate. You see what happens to him every month! That torture." He was shouting now.

"I don't care. He's not a traitor. He's in the Order of the Phoenix as we both are. Dumbledore doesn't just pick anyone. It was his character and integrity that got them to override the policy and allow him to serve in the first place."

"James, trust me. Dumbledore knows it's someone close to you, it would have to be. It's not me. Peter is not tempting enough a pawn to have Voldemort waste his time training him. Remus has the brains and the motive. James, if you trust me, do this. Make Peter your Secret Keeper. Trust me."

James was silent. He shifted his eyes over to Harry who started back at him, oblivious to the gravity of the conversation. "I...trust you with my life, Sirius."

He swallowed. "Then do this. You cannot trust Remus and you know that they will come after me immediately. Peter is the only choice." He locked eyes with his friend of nearly ten years. His tone was grave.

"All right." James finally relinquished. Sirius sighed with relief.

"You're a brother to me, James." Sirius placed a hand delicately on his friend's tense shoulder. "I would never do anything that would jeopardize you life." A worried grin quickly flashed across James' lips. Lily looked up at them both as she crouched down near Harry's walker. Neither party was comfortable with the situation and Sirius could sense it. He attempted to reassure them.

"You can trust me with your life, James, and you can trust Peter with it as well."

***

Those words haunted Sirius Black and would continue to do so until the day he died. He now had to remove himself from the Hell that was Azkaban, the anchor that pulled on his throat threatening to drown him. Never had he been more sure of anything in his life when he concocted the plan to switch places with Peter at the last minute for the role of Potter's Secret Keeper. Yet, he had never been so wrong. He could no longer remember the reasons he once harbored for suspecting Remus, other than his being a werewolf. If it was true that Remus would be a professor at Hogwarts, this would only make it more difficult to go about the premises undetected, but he had no choice but to try. Tomorrow evening, he would escape through the bars as Padfoot. Tomorrow, the hunt will begin.