Shifting Fate: The Magic of Mending Time

Azkaban

Sirius Black lay practically lifeless against the icy stone wall. He blankly looked at the patch of moonlight that streaked across the ground. He could tell the moon wasn't full, not that it mattered what stage the moon was in anymore. It came through the small slit in the wall, the same one that let the salty air blow into his wretched cell. It didn't do much to alleviate the stench that filled the small room, but that hardly bothered Sirius anymore.

No, after nearly half a decade he was long since unaffected by the smell. Not even the cold temperature of the room bothered him anymore. It was nothing compared to the icy chill the Dementors carried around themselves.

The not so young man could always tell when they were coming closer. His joints were the first to know, aching in a similar way to an old woman sensing a storm on the rise. If only he was predicting a storm, that would have been much better.

Luckily he'd found himself a small respite from the dementors' care. Someone new must have been brought in recently, providing a fresh supply for the dark creatures. The man wasn't celebrating this, only taking what he could get in such a place.

He felt numb at the moment. Numb wasn't a bad thing, it was probably the best he could hope for considering where he was. His 'peaceful' moment was stolen from him all too quickly.

A set of footsteps echoing through the hallway brought him back to himself. He groaned, banging the back of his head lightly against the stone wall a few times in protest. It didn't hurt, merely got his brain working. Like a good slap to the cheeks wake you up in the morning.

It wasn't everyday people roamed the halls of Azkaban. Had it already been a month since the last inspection? The man furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. It was hard to keep track of time here, but he was almost positive it hadn't been a month. Perhaps they were bringing a new room mate for the empty cell beside his? He had been 'alone' on this side of the tower for a good while.

Honestly he preferred it that way, listening to someone lose their mind was taxing. He was only just holding his own sanity as it was.

The man shook his head, trying to clear thoughts bouncing around inside it. He pushed them down, turning his attention to the quickly approaching people.

It didn't take long for them to reach his cell. He fully expected them to move past him without a sideways glance. That was usually what happened. Most people ignored 'the man who betrayed the Potters'. A select few had taken the time to speak with him, usually Fudge. The man was an odd one, but Sirius welcomed the civil conversation.

"Black."

The sound almost startled the man. He looked up to see two unfamiliar Aurors standing outside his cell, looking at him expectantly.

Well he wasn't expecting that.

"W-what..." He tried to speak but found it hoarse, dusty from lack of proper use. He cleared his throat forcefully, determined to speak to his guests.

"What can I do for you?" He forced the words out. They sounded rough, almost unfamiliar to him. The smooth tone of his youth was long gone.

"We need you to come with us." The Auror spoke again, a slight look of surprise on his face.

Perhaps he wasn't expecting such a reply from a prisoner. Sirius couldn't blame him, most people kept here went mad rather quickly. The high security section was more closely patrolled by the Dementors.

It took him a moment more to process the words the man had spoken. He was going somewhere?

A small butterfly of hope took off in his heart. It lingered for only a moment, the man closed his eyes as he held it in his chest. And then he crushed it. There was no way he was getting a trial. It was foolish to hope.