Rebirth

Chapter 1: Awakening

"Sirius, can you hear me? Sirius!"

Sirius Black awoke to the sound of a faraway voice slowly breaking into his consciousness. Where was he? He tried to focus his mind. He knew he wasn't in Grimmauld Place. There were too many voices, footsteps on hard floor. What had he been doing?

He remembered falling.

Bellatrix' face.

He had been laughing at her.

HARRY!

The memories rushed into his head like a tornado.

He had gone with the others to rescue Harry from the clutches of the Death Eaters in the department of Mysteries. There had been a battle and Bellatrix had cursed him.

He slowly opened his eyes to a sea of anxious faces bending over him. Professor Dumbledore, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, a few he didn't recognise.

"He's waking up."

He tried to lift his head, but the room started to spin. He felt a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back down on to the bed.

"Don't try to move yet," Hermione said softly.

"Where...?" he tried to speak, to ask where Harry was, but the words caught in his throat as though he had forgotten how to use his voice.

"Shh," said Hermione calmly. "You're in St. Mungo's. Just rest for now; there'll be plenty of time for explanations later."

Sirius tried again, muttering something that sounded like Urruh.

"You need to rest, Sirius. I promise I will explain everything to you when you awake, but for now, sleep." Dumbledore spoke gently but firmly, and Sirius found that he suddenly couldn't stay awake. He drifted off into a deep sleep.

~~~

When he awoke again, it was dark. It was a struggle to open his eyes; it felt as though they were glued together, but he managed to prise them apart. He looked around the room, his eyes slowly coming into focus. The ward was white and sterile. There were about a dozen beds neatly arranged against either wall, some with curtains pulled round them and all of their occupants apparently sleeping. Next to his bed there was someone sitting uncomfortably in a hard backed chair. His head was pressed to his chest and he appeared to be asleep. Although he couldn't see his face, Sirius deduced from the red hair that it was probably a Weasley, perhaps Bill or Charlie. He gingerly lifted his head from the pillow. It was easier than before, but it still felt thick and foggy, and his temples pounded with rushing blood. With great difficulty, he managed to sit up and reached for a goblet of water on the table between his bed and the sleeping Weasley. He lifted it to his mouth and sipped it slowly. He felt as though he had a hundred dragons tied to every limb, pulling him back down on to the bed. What had his damned cousin cursed him with?

As the cool liquid soothed his parched throat and his mind started to focus at last, it suddenly struck him that although he was a wanted man with a very large price on his head, there were no guards at his bed, no dementors eagerly waiting to escort him back to Azkaban and nothing to stop him from walking right out of there. Had he been cleared or had they just not realised who he was? So many questions ran through his head, but he couldn't bring himself to act on the rising panic that was brewing in the pit of his stomach. He was just too weak to care.

His hands gave way to their heaviness and he dropped the water goblet, sending it crashing to the floor. The noise woke his sleeping companion with a start. He jumped to his feet, wand outstretched. It was Ron.

Sirius was surprised at how much older he looked and realised with a note of regret that he hadn't noticed how much Harry and his friends had grown up during all this mayhem. After surveying the room carefully, Ron sat down and turned to Sirius.

"Are you alright? How do you feel?" he whispered.

"OK," replied Sirius, hoarsely. He put his hands to his throat in frustration and tried to rub it into action. Ron picked up the goblet and with a wave of his wand, refilled it and handed it to Sirius, who drank eagerly.

"What happened?" he asked. Ron looked around nervously.

"Dumbledore wants to explain it all to you himself. He'll be here in the morning. Hermione'll be back any minute. She must have gone to the loo or something." He stared at the door anxiously as if willing her to come in.

"Dumbledore, now!" croaked Sirius. He was not going to wait until morning to find out what the hell was going on, and why Hermione and Ron were here without Harry. Ron eyed him resolutely for a moment and then dropped his head and sighed.

"OK, OK. Just wait till Hermione comes back and I'll go and call him." He ran his hand through his red hair and stood up.

"And get Harry, I want to see Harry," Sirius demanded. Ron opened his mouth to speak but at that moment, Hermione appeared at the double doors at the end of the room. She saw Sirius sitting up and ran over to the bed.

"Sirius, you're awake!" she exclaimed happily. "Are you alright?"

"Get Dumbledore," he said again to Ron, who shrugged at Hermione helplessly and left the room.

Sirius watched Ron leave the ward and noticed how tired the to two youngsters looked. He wondered how much sleep they had had since the fight with the Death Eaters.

"You gave us quite a scare," said Hermione, sitting down in the chair next to the bed. She reached behind him to prop up his pillows behind his head. He sank down onto them gratefully.

"Do you remember waking up before?" asked Hermione, fussing with the bedclothes. Sirius nodded.

"It's been two weeks, you know," she said matter-of-factly. "We were starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up again." Sirius was surprised. It seemed to him as though it had only been a few hours since he last woke up.

"Is everyone OK?" he asked gruffly. It was still an effort to speak, despite the amount of water he had drunk since he had woken. His mouth and throat felt dry and scratchy, as though they were filled with sand.

"Wait for Dumbledore. He'll explain everything when he gets here." Sirius wondered why Hermione wouldn't look at him. Something in his gut told him that he wouldn't like what Dumbledore had to say. He felt a rising wall of panic in his chest.

After a moment, Ron returned to the ward. He walked silently back to Sirius's bed and sat down at his feet.

"He's on his way," he said, softly.

"Is Harry coming as well?" asked Sirius, urgently, staring into Ron's eyes, searching for some indication of what was happening.

"No," he said simply. He too looked away, as though he couldn't meet Sirius's gaze.

"Wha-" Sirius began. Hermione cut him off.

"Dumbledore wants to tell you himself. Just wait till he gets here and he'll explain everything.

They waited in silence, a thousand questions running through Sirius's aching head. He pressed his head into the cool fabric of the pillow, wishing he could pull himself together a little more.

Finally Dumbledore arrived, breezing into the ward with his usual aura of steely magnetism. He greeted Sirius with a smile.

"Sirius, it's good to see you looking better," he said, warmly. Sirius had no time for niceties. He sat up on the bed and looked Dumbledore fiercely in the eye.

"Where's Harry? What happened?" he said, his eyes full of anxious concern. Dumbledore stared into his eyes, an overwhelming sadness spreading across his face. He paused for a moment before he spoke.

"I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, Sirius, but Harry has been killed by Voldemort."

Sirius's mouth fell open. Dumbledore's words struck him like a blow to the head. A burning feeling of panic and shock and fear and overwhelming sadness all rolled in to one started to boil in the pit of his stomach.

"It can't be true," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, Sirius. It's true." Hermione spoke softly, looking Sirius in the eye for the first time.

"No." Sirius dropped his head into his hands. His eyes stung with the pressure of tears that wouldn't come, couldn't be allowed to flow. His whole body ached, not from his injuries this time, but with a different kind of pain, an overwhelming feeling of loss, of regret and of guilt. Dumbledore stayed silent as he allowed his words to sink in. Hermione placed her hand on Sirius's shoulder in an effort to offer some comfort, but Sirius shook it off, angrily.

"How?" he asked, his head still in his hands, his voice mechanical and devoid of emotion.

"There are some things you need to know before you will understand what happened to Harry," Dumbledore spoke calmly but firmly. Something in his voice stopped Sirius from interrupting as Dumbledore continued.

"You have been away from us for almost two and a half years. We have only just found the means to bring you back." Sirius looked up at Dumbledore, his black eyes wide with shock. Two years? That couldn't be true. It felt as though it had all happened yesterday.

"Do you remember our fight with the Death Eaters at the Ministry?" Dumbledore asked him. Sirius nodded his head, unable to speak.

"When Bellatrix cursed you, you fell backwards through the veil of death. You were lost to us for good, or so we thought. After your death, members of the Ministry arrived and witnessed Voldemort's return. You were cleared of all charges, and the war against Voldemort began in earnest. That night, I told Harry of the prophecy that we had worked so hard to keep from him. It was time he knew. He handled it well; you would have been so proud of him, Sirius." He looked down at his hands for a moment, as if trying to compose himself.

"Over the next year, we fought the Death Eaters as best as we could, but it wasn't enough. There was a very real threat that we would lose, even with the support of the Ministry. It became obvious that more severe action would have to be taken. One night, almost a year after your death, Harry came to see me. He was only sixteen - so young - but he spoke to me with the maturity of a grown man. He told me that he understood his destiny, that the only person who could destroy Voldemort was himself. And he was right."

"And you let him?" Sirius hissed with incredulity.

"Not willingly, no. We tried everything we could to find another way, but the prophecy was right. He had to do it himself. He was a strong and powerful wizard by this time, Sirius. His powers had surpassed those of most adults. There were many who urged him to go and confront Voldemort. Perhaps I was a fool, but I forbid it. He was still a child, no matter how much more mature he seemed. In the end, the matter was taken out of my hands. He managed to evade the three aurors who were assigned to his protection and he set out to meet Voldemort alone. Perhaps if I had not been so willing to judge him as a child, we could have sent him there with some protection. I blame myself." He hung his head again, his voice filled with emotion.

"He did destroy Voldemort but in the process, he was killed himself." He fell silent, finally and looked to Sirius for his reaction. Sirius dropped his head into his hands once again, his fingers pulling at his long dark hair. It was too much for him to take in. Harry dead. Voldemort destroyed. He had been away for two years. He had been away from Harry when he was needed most, when he should have been protecting him. His head swam with questions, guilt, anger; so much emotion that he could hardly bear it. He felt as though he was drowning.

"No matter how much I worried about him, I never really believed that he wouldn't make it. I thought he was invincible, that he couldn't fail to succeed in the end." Sirius's voice was barely audible. He was speaking to himself, no longer aware of his surroundings or companions.

"We all did, Sirius," said Dumbledore. "He was just a boy, with the responsibility of a hundred adults, and he faced it with more courage than a thousand."

Sirius looked up at Dumbledore once again, his black eyes bright with pain.

"Why didn't you get me out sooner? I could have helped. I could have stopped him."

"We had no idea that we could. When Voldemort was finally gone, the new Minister ordered an investigation into the activities of the Department of Mysteries on my advice. What we found there was horrifying. Experiments had been conducted in a ruthless and barbaric fashion, mostly on unsuspecting muggles. The veil that you fell through was not, as we had first thought, a veil of death, but rather a manufactured experiment to simulate death in order to find out more of it's nature. Some, we were not able to save. Although we could retrieve their bodies, their souls were lost forever. The people on this ward are the only survivors out of thousands. As the last to enter, you were easier to bring back. Some of them had been in there for decades.

"We managed to recover your body a little under six months ago, and the medical staff have been working tirelessly ever since to restore your mind. We did not know if we would ever succeed, but two weeks ago, you awoke briefly."

"Have any of the others come round?" Sirius asked abruptly, interrupting Dumbledore.

"Some have stirred, but you are the first to completely awaken."

Sirius lay back on the bed again, unable to cope with the torrent of emotion running through his body. Once again, had had failed his godson. Once again, he had been trapped, unable to protect him, to fulfil the promise he had made to his best friend so many years ago. First it was Peter, who framed him for murder and had him imprisoned, then his own cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, whose curse was the reason for his two-year disappearance.

"What happened to the Death Eaters?" he asked, staring at the ceiling.

"They are mostly either dead or in Azkaban. A few managed to go into hiding, and the Aurors are trying to round them up." Hermione said.

"Peter?" he asked, hoping against hope that he was dead.

"Still at large," said Dumbledore. "We suspect that he is once again living amongst us as a rat. Although we have managed to find evidence of where he might be hiding, we have not yet been able to apprehend him." Sirius burned to know what had become of Bellatrix, but couldn't bring himself to ask.

"Bellatrix is dead," said Dumbledore, as if reading his mind, "and her death is another cause for concern. She was found brutally murdered a few months ago. The evidence surrounding the case suggests that she was killed by an animal, possibly a werewolf." Dumbledore paused, allowing the significance of his words to sink in.

"Remus?" Sirius whispered. Not Remus. Please don't let it be Remus. Dumbledore nodded sadly. Again, Sirius dropped his head. The only one left who he truly cared about.

"Remus has been missing for some time. Your apparent death affected him badly, but he was able to hold himself together for Harry's sake. He took on a fatherly role towards Harry in your absence, but when he died, Remus simply disappeared. He was the first on to the scene of Harry's death, but Disapparated before we arrived. We have not seen him since.

"Of course, the Ministry is looking for him since he has not notified them of his whereabouts, but more importantly, he has no access to Wolfsbane, so he is extremely dangerous."

Sirius made to sit up, but Dumbledore stopped him with a cool glare, a moment's flicker of danger passing through his benevolent eyes.

"You are not to go looking for him, Sirius," he said, sternly. "We have our own people on the job, and we are confident that we will find him before the Ministry does. You are not strong enough to go anywhere yet. You can join the search when you are ready."

Sirius smiled to himself bitterly. His head began to clear at last. He knew exactly where Remus would be going. He would be looking for Peter. Sirius knew this because that is exactly what he would be doing if he were Remus. He had killed Bellatrix, now he had to kill Peter and avenge the marauders once and for all.

He smoothed down his long hair with an eerie calmness and sat up; swinging his legs round to the floor.

"Where are you going?" asked Hermione, alarmed.

"I've got to get out of here. I can't just lie around here and wallow. I've got to do something," he replied coolly, swaying slightly as he tried to stand. He felt as though he might pass out, but he was determined not to let it show.

"That would not be wise. You need to rest," said Dumbledore firmly. Something inside Sirius snapped.

"I've been 'resting' for the past two years!" he yelled. "I can't stay here." He stared at Dumbledore, his wide eyes imploring him for support. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Help me, Albus. I can't stay here," he begged, softly.

A voice spoke from behind Dumbledore. It was Ron. Sirius had clean forgotten he was in the room.

"He can stay at Grimmauld Place with me and Hermione. We won't leave his side," he said, Hermione nodding furiously in agreement. Sirius felt a rush of affection for his young friends. Along with Harry, Ron and Hermione had trusted him when he had escaped from Azkaban. They had risked their lives to make sure his story was heard when anyone else would have killed him instantly. Now, once again, they were there for him when he needed it most.

"I don't think-" Professor Dumbledore began, shaking his head.

"Albus, he's been through enough." Hermione spoke with an edge of anger in her voice. "He needs to be home with the people who care about him. You know if he stays here they'll treat him like a laboratory experiment. He doesn't need to be questioned right now."

Sirius was shocked. He had never in his life heard Hermione speak to Dumbledore like that, or anyone for that matter. He held his breath, waiting for the Professor's response. Slowly, he nodded.

"Very well," he said, resignedly. "You may take him home, but don't Apparate. He's not strong enough."

For the first time since he had woken up, Sirius felt almost happy. The only thing that made sense to him at the moment was to get out of this hospital, even if it was to go to his awful family home.