Back in Black // Sirius Black

Chapter 1

July 21, 1993- Azkaban

Murderers, traitors, felons, and the evilest of wizards fill the cells of Azkaban prison. Most prisoners go mad in weeks, sometimes days, and die of the despair brought about from the dark dementors patrolling the halls. But after twelve years in the prison, one man remained seemingly normal in mental health.

He looked deranged. At one point before his incarceration, he was exceedingly handsome, with elegant features, well-kept hair and clothes, and a smile always on his face. But after being stripped of happiness, living in the cold and grime, and nearly starving to death every day, the man was nearly unrecognizable from his youthful self. His black hair was longer than he liked to keep it, and it hung in tangles with streaks of grey. His face was thin and sallow. Those once glittering and happy grey eyes were dark with anger, resent, and hopelessness, swirling with only a hint of lunacy from his vengeful desire to prove his innocence. The madness that marred his face intimidated even the most violent of prisoners.

Within his dingy cell, the man's dirty hands shook with fury as he scanned the picture in the newspaper for what was probably the thousandth time that day. It was always freezing in the prison due to the ghastly, soul-sucking Dementors everywhere around the place, but the convict was burning up with anger. A picture of a rat isn't something sane people usually get so worked up about. But he knew it was the exact rat he spent many years of his childhood with. The rat mocked him from the photo as it sat on the shoulder of a red-haired boy in the picture. He thought the rat was dead. In fact, everyone in the country thought the rat was dead. But there he was: the lying, scheming, betraying rat who murdered his best friends. The prisoner was stuck in his cell for the exact crimes the rat committed. Seeing the rat alive was driving him insane, at least, more insane than the prisoner of twelve years already was. He finally crumpled up the newspaper and cast it into the corner of the cell. He couldn't stare at the rat who put him in there any longer.

The Dementors just outside the cell approached the bars at the sudden noise. Their breaths were long and raspy as they sucked every shred of happiness from the man. But the prisoner simply shuddered at the cold. He had no happiness left and kept all of the happy memories of her well-hidden.

She was something he thought about every second but didn't dare to reminisce in case the Dementors stole her away from him too. In the darkest moments of pain and torture at Azkaban, all he needed to do was close his eyes and he would remember the woman- the fluttering touch of her skin, the smell of her dark hair, the deepest of love shining in her crystal blue eyes. Sometimes when he thought about her, he could hear her crystalline laugh over the curdling screams and painful yells that reverberated throughout the prison. He would wonder what she did while her husband rotted away in Azkaban. In a way, he hoped when he got his hands on that newspaper that her name would pop up in one of the sections or her face would smile up at him in one of the pictures. He needed a sign she was okay. Undoubtedly, the beautiful woman could have found a new husband and life, but he hoped he knew her better than that. She was his soulmate, and he used to cling to the idea that one day he might see her again. This was the only hopeful thought keeping him going for the previous twelve years- until the idea of revenge on the rat came into his mind.

He sat in the corner of his dark cell, just shaking from the cold, sadness, and starvation. Innocence, he thought. Now, the only thing keeping him going was the fact that he knew he was innocent- and he had to prove it.

The plot he had was simple, so simple, the high security prison should've caught it. He was attempting an unprecedented feat- escaping Azkaban. He would attempt it and, even if it killed him, the prisoner wouldn't mind. He had nothing left to lose. But if he could pull it off and finally commit the murder he was sent to Azkaban for, it would all be worth it.

Right in front of the Dementors, the wizard was replaced by a matted, shaggy, black dog, as if it were magic. The tall hooded figures didn't think anything of the suddenly emotionless cell, perhaps they thought the man finally died. But the extremely thin dog slipped right through the bars of the cell and into the hallway. If any of the other mad prisoners saw the dog as it padded through the prison hallways, dodging the tall, hooded, Dementors, they probably mistook it for the Grim, a hallucination of sorts, an omen of death. Some of the prisoners reached out to the dog, grasping at its fur and calling to it, asking for some sort of sweet release from their sentence.

The dog caught a whiff of sea air and ran towards the smell. Finally, he slipped between the bars of a large iron gate and was standing on cragged black rocks overlooking a turbulent ocean. As the deadly waves smashed against the shore, he'd never been this hopeful in years, and the dog slightly waved his tail.

With a loud splash, the scraggly dog jumped into the ocean. He knew it was some time in the summer, considering the date on that daunting newspaper the Minister left him, but the water was freezing, and the sky was cold and dark with storm clouds. The dog paddled furiously, knowing he had a long swim ahead of him and an even longer trek to innocence. Of course, the Ministry would be hunting for him as soon as they found out about his escape. After all, he was convicted for the murder of thirteen people.

The prisoner named Sirius Black had a plot for revenge and to prove his innocence against the rat, but only one name was on his mind as he swam, the same name that haunted him every second of every day. The name was not Peter Pettigrew. Instead, the motivating name kept him going, pushing his legs forward towards the warmer and bluer looking horizon. He wasn't thinking about his next move, where he would go, or how he was going to survive. All Sirius Black was thinking about was her name, repeating over and over in his head.

Alexandra Black.