The Courage to Be

The Courage to Be

Afraid of nothing. I have nothing. I have friends... my friends have deserted me.

I am afraid of nothing... for I am nothing. One who loses all has nothing to lose.

I am afraid of nothing and there is nothing I cannot do... I can do this. In a heartbeat, I can do this...

I am hesitating. Why am I hesitating? I am not afraid to do this, and yet I haven't done anything yet. The bars, those horrid bars that have prevented me from leaving, for all these years - they mock me. They blur in and out of my vision - stay still! I have worked for this for so long... I will do it! I have nothing to lose. Only to gain. I will gain.

I will prevail. I'll get out, I'll run like hell, and I'll find that scumbag. I'll find him; I'll kill him.

I have denied myself food every other day for this. I will not prevent myself from doing this!

Why haven't I moved?

The dementors are gone, there's nobody awake. Nobody to watch me. All I have to do is slip through the bars and I'm free! Away from this hell, forever!

At least until they find my empty cell and alert everybody to my absence...

Why am I doing this? This is suicide, and absolutely mad. I must be mad. Of course I'm mad, twelve years in Azkaban doesn't leave anybody sane! Not even my miserable and unexceptional self. I'll never avoid all those people who will be looking for me. Searching for me so diligently... Why am I doing this?

For Harry. I am doing this for Harry.

I'm doing this.

I slide carefully, slowly - hesitantly - towards the bars, through the bars. Will I fit? The gap isn't as wide as it looks, the pressure is squeezing my ribs - too tight! I won't make it, I should start backing up now...

I'm through... and I'm free! So much space, places to run! I have to find the entrance - the exit! I have to find my way out to the sea.

So many corridors, winding in, out, left, right. I feel as though I'll never find the door, my way out. Did I pass this prisoner already? Did I already see this hole in this wall, this long swipe of mildew along this wall?

Everything looks the same!

I haven't been here before, it's just the gloom. It's getting to my head - I can't let that happen. Where's the damned exit? Where's the fresh air?

I smell the salt. I smell the sea, I can hear the waves lapping against the rocks - those horrible, evil-looking rocks that jut against the sky like pikes, waiting to impale runaways. I remember them from when I arrived. They called to me... Can I get past them?

They don't look so tough... They aren't frightening at all! They've been worn down, beaten down, by the vicious waves over all these years. They are no obstacle. Nothing will stop me now.

I'm weak... That's a long way to swim. I dip a paw into the water. It's so cold.

Could I get hypothermia?

I could have done it so many years ago, but I'm so thin - can I do it now?

I can't do it.

There's no way I can swim that far. I'll drown, and he'll kill Harry.

Harry.

Lily and James are dead. I will never see them again, and Harry... he is the only living legacy of his wonderful parents... I loved them so much. How can I let him die? If Harry dies, James and Lily will be completely and wholly dead. But as long as he lives, they live too...

I jump into the water, and the cold shocks me like a slap to the face. Worse than a slap, a kick. I feel like somebody has thrown me bodily into a studded wall. I don't think I'll ever feel my limbs again.

But I'm kicking! I'm kicking my legs, and I'm moving - I'm moving so fast, and the isle of Azkaban grows smaller and smaller.

I grow tired quickly, but Harry - I have to reach Harry! This spurs me, and I kick harder, feel the adrenaline pumping through my body, shut the cold out. I can do this, I can do this to help him. I have to help him.

I have to get away from that hell.

I must be halfway there. But I'm becoming so tired... the waves are beginning to fight harder, and they shove against me like angry bouncers. They don't want me here. They want me there. They want me back in Azkaban, and they roar in my ears, demand that I turn around.

No way in hell.

I fight harder, and the shore ahead of me enlarges in my vision. It's coming closer, I'm winning, and the waves can do nothing but crash themselves into me, which is becoming more and more futile.

I'm stronger than I seem.

Skinny mutt, skinny, mediocre excuse of a human being, I may be. But I... I am exceptional.

First prisoner to ever escape Azkaban, and I didn't even belong there.

My moral climbs.

I could lead an army to Pettigrew, and only I can kill him - and kill him I will.

I owe it to the slimy traitor. And he owes it to me. To Remus. To Lily and James.

And to Harry.

And I will be the one to exact our revenge upon that disgusting plague of a man. I am not the skinny, mediocre excuse. He is. I am a man, and I will do what needs to be done, no second thoughts.

I am a leader of men, just like James was! I will take out any obstacle, any threat to the happiness and well being of the ones I love, even if they don't love me back.

I owe it to Lily and James.

And before I know it, I've reached the shore. I'm drained, exhausted, and can't move another inch, but I made it.

And once I get my strength back enough to move again, I will move towards my goal, and I will avenge my brother and his wife. Because I owe to them, and I owe it to Wormtail. Pettigrew. He'll get what he deserves.

It will probably be the last thing I do, but I'll do it. And then I could die happily.