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Chapter 43: The Prisoner

Sirius Black had ten almost eleven years of the same mundanely: darkness, food (if you could call it food), more darkness and time to reflect on the past. On memories he didn't even want to focus on.

Honestly, he didn't know himself.

Oh, he was more aware of himself than any other prisoner on this blasted island. But there were a lot of things that he thought about that he wasn't sure were real.

For years he had been so sure of who he was—the black sheep of the black family and the apparent heir.

Being a Black was an identity of its own. You were expected to be dark, to be powerful, to be everything Sirius didn't want to be.

When he was at Hogwarts, those first few years he really wanted nothing to do with magic. He wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was because he was scared of it after growing up in a home full of dark magic. The Black library had always scared him as a child it reminded him of…

Reminded him of what?

There were always holes of memory and he really tried to brush it off. Tried to brush off that besides a few collective memories of his youth, he had nothing. There were times at Hogwarts he could've sworn he was almost experiencing deja vu. Another thing he brushed off.

Eventually, the feelings subsided. He began to take pride in his magic and concentrate in his studies and rose quickly in his class rank. He was almost as good as James—better really—but he didn't focus enough on his theoretical exams to top him. And obviously, not Lily. She loved studying more than the two of them.

But practical wise, there was no one like Sirius in his year.

And he flourished for a while throwing charm after charm trick after trick. Even his family, who treated him as if he was scum on Earth, started liking him more after he really hit his stride with the magic.

Of course, they didn't like it when he joined the order. But they didn't kill him. They kept asking him to join the Dark Lord. All the family dinners he had to endure.

Not that he ate at many of them. He expected to be poisoned or curse. Come to think of it, he avoided attending most of them too.

The overtures got worse and worse the longer he was out of town, until Sirius begin to fear that his family was going to take more of a direct approach until getting him to join their evil little cult.

Which was why he bolted to America for a while, until James called him. It was for his own safety, and he honestly felt he was going to build a life there.

He bought a bike.

He met a woman.

Well, several women. But one woman stuck his particular fancy.

Emma.

He only knew her for a few short weeks, but he could still remember the blonde even after all these years. Her long legs. Those green eyes. That golden blonde hair.

It was probably sick thinking of someone you'd never be with again. But Sirius knew he wasn't going to meet anyone again. He was here for the long haul. He had thought about way to escape, but each of them were nonsensical after the next. And besides what did he have to live for…

Harry.

Of course. But Harry was safe. Safe with Remus. He didn't need Sirius.

Sirius frowned as he thought about his godson. It had been so long, he didn't even know how old Harry was. Surely, not a baby anyone. He wondered if he was like James more or Lily.

He still couldn't believe that he had a godson. He remembered coming home and finding James and Lily with a child. A beautiful child, that Sirius had no idea that they were having.

"We wanted to protect you." James had said. He knew how Sirius's family had been trying their hardest to convert him.

He came back though because of Harry. And he did his best to protect them, and then he failed.

And now he was in jail because everyone thought he was just as dark as the rest of his family.

Sirius wanted to laugh.

But of course he didn't. That would show that he truly was losing his mind. Not that he wasn't sure that was already happening not with all those dreams. Memories. Whatever you could call them.

They started out slow enough. Where you'd think it would be a nightmare or something. A dream about waking up in the streets of London. He could never remember exactly how he got there. But he could remember being stunned. Being dragged somewhere and forced to drink a series of potions. He remembered kicking and screaming. Scared. Thinking that this couldn't be. That there wasn't supposed to be magic there, that that was the whole purpose of going to this world. And then he passed out.

And usually at this point Sirius ended up waking himself up by screaming.

No one cared.

In Azkaban you always screamed.

The dreams were weirder though. Sometimes he saw himself with a man. A man that oddly felt familiar, who Sirius had wearily feelings about. Protector. Traitor. Sirius thought. He took care of him, but there was something else to the man too. Then he'd have flashes that he knew were truly fantasy. Because how could Peter Pan be anything but fantasy?

But this Peter Pan didn't seem like the Pan that Sirius heard stories growing up about.

His head was a mess.

Which was why he spent most of his time as a dog. Dogs didn't have to deal with all those sorts of problems. All he ever dreamed about was Milkbones.

It wasn't as satisfying as say dreaming of Emma, but it was better than those strange dreams.

Which was why Sirius was in dog form when he heard the sound of footsteps and a cane.

He inwardly groaned wondering what ministry official was visiting them. He wanted to say Lucius Malfoy. Because Lucius was one of the people who visited him the most, if only to gloat at him and he was the only one Sirius knew that carried a cane regularly.

For aesthetic purposes only. The Malfoys were said at one time to hone staff magic, but had lost the art throughout years of inbreeding.

Sirius groaned wondering if he should transform back into a human. He really didn't want to deal with Lucius smirking at him and to say something that was most definitely a threat but a threat that only Sirirus could pick up on.

Lucius was stupid enough not to remember what cell Sirius was in though. He might as well thing that Sirius—who resembled a grim—might be a dementor dog or something. Still though…

What was the point? It wasn't like they could control his transformation.

He was still thinking this when he heard a Scottish voice tell someone, "You can just tell those creators to go away. I want to have a word with the prisoner in Cell C79."

"He's highly dangerous, sir."

"Did I ask you if he was dangerous?" The man said.

There was something familiar about that voice, Sirius thought. He groaned knowing he'd have to transform back since the man wanted to talk to him. C79 that was Sirius's cell, he had gotten so used to it. It was the only number he was ever referred to these days. C79.

Odd, maybe he should start calling himself C79. It would definitely be better than Sirius Black. The name felt too pirate-y for him.

What did Sirius know about pirates though? Save for frequent nightmares featuring a rum drinking pirate with one hand.

A very drunk Captain Hook.

Yeah, he needed to stay in dog form for the good of his brain.

However, he couldn't risk his one secret being discovered. But he wasn't fast enough for the transformation. The man with the cane was now at his cell staring at him. And shaking his head.

"Animal transformation, nice."

He looked ridiculously familiar, Sirius thought looking at him. Although, his vision as a dog was limited there was something about him he recognized. And his smell.

Oh, did Sirius know that smell. He knew it very well. It was a smell he didn't think he'd ever smell again. A smell that he had convinced himself wasn't real.

He was dwelling on these thoughts and the man said, "I don't do the whole Dr. Doolittle thing. So, I'm afraid I'm not going to talk to you as a dog, Black."

The man waved his hand and Sirius found his body contorting into its human form. It was quite the painful experience. Being forced out of your animal form. Completely took out the fun of things. And when he returned to human form, he really sense things that as a dog he could ignore.

The man blinked when he saw Sirius as a human. Eying him for a minute, steadying him.

Did he recognize him? Sirius thought.

He still wasn't convinced all of this was real. He hoped it was in his head. But he could swear he knew that man very well. And he suspected by the way the man was looking at him, he recognized him too. "No." He said, "No. You're going to pay for that."

"Pay for what?" Sirius asked as the bars disappeared.

The man stepped closer. Sirius towered him by several inches, but it was surprising how short he felt at the moment. Tiny he dare say. He always felt tiny around him, a voice in the back of his head said. Especially after the curse.

What the hell?

Yeah, he was thinking he lost it. Really lost it now. He was probably imagining the whole thing. But when in Azkaban…

He decided just to give into the delusion.

The man eyed Sirius up and down. "An excellent job, if I hadn't been fooled once I might buy it again. You even look like him, something the last impostor didn't even attempt."

"Imposter," Sirius said.

The man shook his head. Despite the fancy suit, expensive hair cut, and eloquent accent, Sirius couldn't help but see him as a monster. "Trying to play the stupid card doesn't work well for me, dearie. We'll see how dumb you are after we have a little heart to heart."

He seemed to grin when he said this. His smile was eerie. Sirius didn't know what was so eerie about it, the gold cap tooth or something else. Something that resonated in the back of his mind.

A flash of an imp turning someone into a snail all because they almost accidently hit him with their vegetable cart.

Really, you'd think Azkaban was full of drugs. Sirius tried to block these thoughts by thinking of something else. Sweet, sweet, Emma.

It was too bad she was probably married now with kids. But hey, he needed to focus on something and Emma was just it.

Sad it made him seem completely creepy. But when in Azkaban…

Thinking of Emma though, didn't keep what happened next from being ridiculously eerie when the man seemed to pull his hand towards Sirius's chest than stopped. Blinking. "How…"

Then he really stared at Sirius for a long moment. "Someone put a protection spell over your heart."

Sirius stared at him blankly. "Protection spell?"

The man mumbled under his breath about unraveling the magic. As Sirius felt his head getting dizzy. Another memory.

This time in what appeared to be a small hut. Littered with object after object, someone could probably make a show on the telly about all the junk that was there. It was just ridiculous.

He remembered himself thinking that he'd be happy with none of this stuff. Yet, a man, his father kept piling it up each day hoping that he'd get something to please him.

He never did.

All Sirius wanted a boy was his father back. And his father had been taken. Taken away in part because of him. Because he wanted to protect him.

And he always seemed to blame himself a little bit for it. Of course, he knew that some of the decisions his father made were purely his. But he did wonder, what if he wasn't there, would his father have become that monster?

There was one such day amongst the junk that his father came in almost frantically and looked at him. "Oh, thank God."

"Papa?"

His father ignored him as he murmured something under his breath.

"What?"

"It's okay," The imp said. "Your heart, it's now protected."

"Protected?"

He'd later find out that his father had made a ill fitting deal with a low level wizard who threatened him. Of course, he didn't realize this until he was almost killed when he was playing ball outside their hut.

Soon after they moved into the Dark Castle.

That was that wizard's home.

After his father killed him it became theirs.

It stored more of his junk though, so that was a good thing, he guessed.

Still he missed the hut. He missed his father. And he resented having a spell over his heart to keep him from being would be leverage.

"Bae?"

He was thrown back into the present hard. He blinked. That name.

"Bae?" It was asked again

Only his father called him Bae, his real name was…

"Baelfire." The man said, "Look at me, son."

Sirius blinked and turned to the man. He knew he was crazy. He knew he was delusional. But he couldn't help but ask, "Papa?"