When the seasons change will you stand by me? - wolfstar

Changes

"Yer back wi' company then?" the guard asked when Remus returned to Azkaban for the fourth time, looking peaky.

"Yes," Remus said, looking over at the Auror.

"We have an order of transfer of a Sirius Orion Black to the Ministry of Magic cells whilst he awaits trial." said Auror Proudfoot, handing the guard an official paper sealed with the crest of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Righ'" the guard said after reading the paper. "Follo' me."

The full moon was but a half day away and if possible, the screams from the prisoners seemed louder and more desperate this time around. A thick mist of desperation and misery seemed to float in the air and Remus shuddered as they walked through the prison. The memories of the transformations, death, war, and fights came back to him stronger than ever, and he broke off a generous square of his chocolate bar and bit into it.

The guard unlocked the door to Sirius's cell, stepped back and indicated for Auror Proudfoot to retrieve the prisoner. Auror Proudfoot walked quietly down the stairs, his wand tightly gripped in his left hand. "Sirius Black, if you please follow me." He said when he was a couple of feet away from Sirius.

"What?" muttered Sirius.

"We're transferring you to a Ministry of Magic cell where you will stay whilst awaiting your trial." Proudfoot said, extending his hand to help Sirius up on his feet. "If you please hold out your hands..." Sirius held out his hand which were quickly tied together with a rope after Proudfoot nonverbally conjured them.

Sirius looked up the stairs and met Remus's cold and tired gaze, "How?" he asked weakly as he reached the top of the stairs.

"Hired a solicitor. Quite genius to use a combination of muggle and magical laws. Dark wizards may not have a right to a trial, but British citizens certainly do. You are a British citizen as well as a magical one." Remus said, shrugging. "Besides, they couldn't risk you getting a muggle trial..."

Sirius looked curiously around as they walked down the corridor, a look of recognition on his face. He almost stopped by a cell where a particularly mad scream sounded. Though no one else noticed, Sirius stuck out his index and middle finger and showed it to the prisoner, 'up yours' it seemed to say, and then Remus realised that the prisoner was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Despite the cold shower of water drenching Sirius top to toe, Remus couldn't help but notice that the man grew a couple of inches and a look of momentary happiness on his face. Sirius took a deep breath, looked up at the bright cloudy sky and it seemed as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Then they disapparated with a loud crack, appearing in a fireplace in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. It was completely abandoned and every step they took echoed through the great room.

The lift took them to level nine, whereupon they walked down the stairs to level ten wherein the Detention Area could be found, though it hadn't been used in great frequency owing to the desperation of the Wizarding War that had resulted in a mass number of prisoners being directly sent to Azkaban in fears of the prisoners escaping from the dementor-free and more relaxed cells in the Ministry of Magic. And Merlin forbid what would happen with a Death Eater escape in the heart of the ministry.

"In you get," said Proudfoot, leading Sirius into the sparse cell. Proudfoot locked the door and turned to a small table with a thick registry book. He retrieved a pen from his pocket and began writing down details such as name, date of birth, sex, nationality and so on... but at date of entry, his pen hovered and he glanced over at Remus, "D'you remember the date today?"

Remus being quite reliant on the keeping of dates naturally knew what day it was, but before he had time to answer, someone else answered, "The 4th of May 1985."

Sirius had answered the question.

Remus's gaze darted to the cell. Sirius who hadn't seen sunlight since 2. November 1981 had known the date. And then he remembered the counting lines covering the walls in the Azkaban cell. Sirius had been counting all the days he had been imprisoned.

Proudfoot looked over at Remus as though to verify that it was indeed correct. Remus nodded and Proudfoot resumed his writing.

"You reckon he's innocent then, Lupin?" Proudfoot inquired on their way back up the stairs.

"I don't know..." Remus said truthfully.

"You went through all that trouble for 'I don't know'?" Proudfoot laughed.

It was true that it hadn't been an easy feat to arrange a trial. There was the Enabling Acts that saw Barty Crouch Sr. passing laws right and left (that in any other circumstance would be beyond illegal) to suppress the Death Eater menace. It wasn't unusual for witches and wizards at that time to end up with lifetime in Azkaban without so much as a chance to argue. Unfortunately, some of the laws passed then were unchanged, and so the only chance left had been to threaten with muggle means. Means that would breach the Statue of Secrecy a thousand times over.

"But surely you're not blind to the overwhelming evidence against him?" Proudfoot inquired as they stepped into the lift.

"'Course I'm not." Remus sighed. "Though I believe the lack of trial is at worst criminal and at best childish."

"It was entirely legal." Proudfoot said sternly.

"But should it have been?" Remus countered. "He committed the crime after the war when the Enabling Act was no longer valid and in most cases, you'd think prisoners would get a chance to have a trial at least after the end of the war. Honestly, it's positively medieval – the muggles have progressed far beyond that point, but wizards seem unable to progress past the eighteenth century. And their view on magical crea–"

"Now there's no point in getting political." Proudfoot said coolly.

Remus rolled his eyes. "That's precisely the problem." He muttered through gritted teeth.

"What's that?" Proudfoot asked, not hearing what Remus had said.

The lift stopped on level eight and the doors opened.

"Nothing of importance. Good-bye." He said and walked out of the lift and into the empty atrium.