WITH FIRE AND IRON | Draco Malfoy

xxi. Theory

And so he accepted.

That night, a glow of ember filled the corner of his cell as the letter burst into flames from the enchantments it held. The only piece that survived was the photo that was now tucked securely inside his pocket.

7 days had already passed and he sat in the same corner, but instead of seeing a human with his head bowed, a dog lay awake in the shadows. Sirius had managed to tie his tattered pants around his body as if it were armor made from the most precious silver that could shield him from the darkness consuming this unforgiving place. In a way it was. It held something valuable to him, hidden and protected.

The moon had already sat on its throne above the clouds and foresaw everything night had to offer. He waited, patiently for the person to help him escape and as time went by, his hope had started to diminish. Until. . .

A dim light.

It appeared to him like a lonely spirit. Wisps of bluish-silver threads of light moved in the form of a small ball. It floated gracefully to him and in a quiet voice whispered, "Follow."

Sirius padded towards the inky bars and because of his thin stature, he managed to squeeze through. Unlike the golden snitch that his best friend would carry around him and play with to appear 'cool' to the ladies of Hogwarts, the ball of light didn't have such a burst of energy. It weaved through the darkness expertly but it never strayed away from his sight. Diligently, he followed it through the halls but stopped when he saw the unmistakable dark entity floating in the middle of the hallway.

Quickly, his nimble paws dived to a wall and hid in the shadows. With his black fur, he easily blended into the night. The ball of light ventured on however and fearlessly went past the Dementors. His ears perked up in surprise when they immediately shied away from the enchanting thing.

There was only one spell that could deter Dementors away. It's a Patronus spell. Or at least some kind of form of it.

Sirius continued into the vast night, his bones rattling in their cages with every step he took to freedom. As the sound of waves violently crashing onshore became louder and clearer in his ears, he felt the weight in his chest lift higher and higher.

Hope had once again blossomed into his heart as the vines of fear encasing it shriveled into corpses.

Not yet, he had to remind himself once again. He still had to struggle across the vicious waters surrounding the prison.

Just as the pads of his paws hit the coarse dirt of the small island Azkaban was built on, the small wisp of happy memories dissipated to the sharp wind. It did not register to him that his small companion left him. There was nothing really but the sight of a person standing by the shoreline.

He couldn't tell their gender but they were tall and lean. Their robe did its job in hiding their body but because of the wind furiously directing the waves to and fro, it allowed him to take a peek at the leather adorning them through the flaps of the thick fabric. Then, an aglint of silver caught his eyes. He tensed.

A long snout with silver fangs protruded above their mouth, eyes concealed in darkness, and two elongated ears standing firm above their head.

A mask. They were wearing a black and silver mask.

Sirius' hackles raised, legs tensed and snout vibrated in a low growl. A death eater? From what he could recall their masks did not look like the ones standing before him but then again, there was only one person that would wear such a thing. Those people had contacted him, helped him escape, and led him to them. What could they possibly want? Should he expect their imprisoned associates to be freed too?