A visit

Sirius sat in his tiny cell in Azkaban, staring at the wall. How long had it been since he'd been brought in? A month? A year? Ten years? He didn't know, time was something of the other world. Screams jerked him from his thoughts - a new arrival, probably that boy they'd brought in a few days ago. They all stopped screaming in the end...

Sirius whimpered as a dementor stopped near his door. No, please no. Don't, I don't want to remember. I don't want to go through this again! But his silent pleading didn't help, and he found himself returned to that Halloween, he didn't know how long ago...

*****

Sirius got off his bike at the his friends' house, his eyes widening as he saw the wreckage. No! Peter, how could you? He rushed inside frantically, hoping that, somehow, they had survived...

He tripped over a body lying in front of the doorway, catching himself just in time. James... No! His friend was on his back, brown eyes wide open and glazed, wand still held in his hand. Sirius searched for a pulse - there was none. Just beyond his best friend's corpse, in the ruined living room, there was a flash of red hair. Lily. Judging by the way she was lying, she was dead as well. I should check... maybe... but Sirius found himself unable to move from James. The empty eyes seemed to bore into him accusingly. It's your fault we're dead, Sirius. It's your fault. We trusted you. It's your fault, they seemed to say.

And one sentence echoed over and over in Sirius' head, one phrase he'd spoken barely a week ago... "Trust me, James, Peter is the ideal choice!" Trust me. We trusted you, and what happened? We're dead, because we trusted you.

*****

Sirius was rocking back and forth, still staring at the wall, trying to erase James' empty eyes from his mind. It's my fault they're dead. My fault. All my fault. I'm no better than the rest of the murderers here, I killed my best friends! They trusted me, and because of that they're dead! How can I go on living like this? Simple answer: I can't.

Sirius stood up with a new determination. This can't go one... I deserve to die. I deserve to die as much as these Death Eaters, I killed James... oh Prongs, it should never have been this way. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... please forgive me when we meet again. He began searching the room. No knives in Azkaban, after all, we all know what we'd do with them... but maybe there's a sharp piece of rock somewhere? He turned to the door, and froze.

James was standing there. Nice going, Sirius, you really have gone mad. He looked just like Sirius remembered him, unruly black hair, thick glasses, laughing brown eyes, those simple blue robes he'd gotten himself on their last trip to Diagon Alley together. However, there was something strange about him, a slight transparency and a whitish glow.

"My God, Sirius. You look awful." Even his voice was exactly as Sirius remembered, although there was a peculiar hollow quality to it that was new.

"I'm so sorry, James." The prisoner's voice was hoarse and scratchy from disuse, he'd stopped screaming a while back. "I'm so sorry..."

The apparition walked up to him until they were standing mere inches apart, then gripped his shoulders tightly. Despite James' ghostlike appearance, his hands felt solid and warm, as they had in life. "Sirius, you have done nothing to be sorry for."

"But I killed you! It was my mistake... it's my fault you're dead."

James frowned, eyes boring into Sirius. "No, Padfoot my friend. It's not your fault. You made a mistake, true, but you acted in good faith. Do not blame my death on yourself, you did everything you could to prevent it. Blame Peter, who did betray our trust." He squeezed Sirius' shoulders. "Please, Padfoot. Do not let this self-imposed guilt drive you to despair. You are innocent. Our deaths are not your fault. Remember this."

Sirius felt a tear slowly making its way down his cheek. "Thank you, James..." he whispered. I am innocent. It was a new thought, echoing through his mind. You are innocent, whispered James' voice in his head.

James smiled as his body grew more transparent. "I must go now... but do not despair. You will get out of here one day, I promise you." The white light around his body grew until it was nearly blinding. James stepped back, dropping his hands from Sirius' shoulders. "Just one more request, my old friend..."

"Anything," Sirius whispered hoarsely.

"Remember me." And then the spectre was gone, and all was as it had been before, save for one spark of hope in one captive's mind.