Toujours Pur, Toujours Famille

Toujours Pur, Toujours Famille

Prologue: Azkaban, December 1, 1981

It had been a month. The whole time he had not slept once, kept awake by the horrors from his past. Most all of the torturous visions had taken place within the last month. However, blackness was beginning to creep over him and not even those creatures could take that away. He started to slip away and was welcoming the feeling. Just as his mind was shutting down, a soft chuckle jerked him back.

"Hello, Sirius."

Sirius groaned and weakly lifted his head. "Who's there?" His voice was hoarse; the first few days were yelling and moaning whilst caught in the memories and since then he had not used his voice at all.

That chuckle again. He knew it from somewhere but he did not know where. "Oh, you could not have forgotten me that quickly my dear little cousin."

He flinched backwards from the wall where the voice was coming from. It was freezing out but the fact that he was wearing threadbare clothes was not what was making him shake.

"So they finally caught the famous Bellatrix," he muttered, words full of hate.

"Yes. Too bad they couldn't catch Pettigrew to keep you company," she hissed.

Sirius snorted, leaning against the wall, refusing to take the bait. He had not seen his cousin in almost five years, ever since his leaving from Grimmauld Place. In those five years she had not surfaced in his mind as anything more than an evil, power-hungry woman.

Once again, he was working on ignoring the dementors gliding outside his door and now his least favorite cousin just feet away from him. And once again he was interrupted, this time by a harsh whisper.

"Oh, and cousin, there was something I was supposed to tell you. Now, let's see what was it?" She hummed softly for a moment, as if actually trying to remember something. "Oh, yes, that's right. Regulus." Sirius tensed and clenched his jaw. "We had a rather...unfortunate meeting a while back. I believe you read about it in the papers. Yes, well, while he was begging for death-"

"Shut it!" Sirius snapped. Pain stabbed at his heart at the cruel mentions of his recently deceased brother.

He could almost see her shrugging her shoulders, that twisted smirk playing at her lips. "Sleep well, cousin," she murmured, a humored edge in her tone.

It was light when he awoke from his fitful rest. At first he was not sure what it was that had woken him; whether it was the dementors, the light that he had become unaccustomed to, or Bellatrix. It surprised him when he realized it was the clinking of iron on iron. A cell was being opened. Two men were standing there.

"Why're we moving this one again?" one asked, gesturing into where Bellatrix was surely glowering at them.

"Black and Black," the second said gruffly. "Both Death Eaters." Sirius had to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying anything.

Sirius watched as she walked out, her head held high and making no attempt to escape the grips of the two wizards. However, when they passed his cell, she quickly moved and ran up to his cell. He stared at her with pure hate. She smirked and spat at him before hissing two words that had haunted him and would continue to haunt him forever.

"Toujours pur."