This is based off Les Miserables. To make this work, people who were related in canon might not be related here. I'll give you more details when we get to that. Also, characters will not be bursting into song. Bit of the songs will be incorporated into the dialogue and narration.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Les Miserables.
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Sirius Black was sitting in his cell in Azkaban Prison, back against the wall, letting his shaggy dark hair fall into his eyes. He had been falsely accused of mass murder. He'd been there for nearly 20 years now.
"Just 20 more years..." someone cried.
"Please, just let me die!" Rookwood screamed.
A door slammed, and a few moments later, Sirius's cell door was thrown open. He winced at the sudden light.
"24601!"
It was none other than Severus Snape. Snape was a sort of warden at Azkaban. Sirius couldn't help but feel a sneaking suspicion that this was because he liked seeing Sirius suffer. They'd been enemies in their youth.
Snape thrust a piece of paper at Sirius.
"Do you know what that means?"
"It means I'm free," Sirius said hoarsely, realizing what the paper was.
"No," Snape said. "It means you're on parole. You're a murderer, we wouldn't simply release you. You get your yellow ticket of leave."
"I was framed."
"Ridiculous, there was a street full of witnesses!" Snape said.
"They didn't see what they thought they saw."
"Enough! Because of your good behavior, you're being granted parole. But, if you don't learn the meaning of the law--"
"I know the meaning of those 20 years," Sirius said, glaring. "A slave of the law."
"You don't know what being a slave in here is like--many prisoners here have been in here since before you were born, 24601."
"My name is Sirius Black!" Sirius snapped.
"And I am Severus Snape. Don't forget my name. I'll be keeping an eye on you." With that said, he walked away. The Dementors led Sirius out of Azkaban and onto the mainland.
He reached a village as the sun rose the next day. It's a new day. Let's see what the world can do for me.
He got a job working in the field for a Muggle. The sun was strong, and by the end of the day his back ached, and he was blistered and sunburned. He approached the farmer. The farmer dropped a few coins into his hand.
"You...you only have me half of what the other men got! This handful of coins wouldn't buy my sweat!" Sirius exclaimed. A worker shoved past him.
"You broke the law," the worker said, gesturing to Sirius's yellow ticket of leave. "Why should you get the same as honest men like me?"
The farmer and the worker glared at him for a moment more, and then Sirius left as the sun was setting.
"Damn it," he hissed. This was what freedom was. People turning him away because of a crime he had been framed for. As night fell, he began looking for a place to sleep.
"Sir," a voice called. Sirius turned around. An old man in a night cap and a night gown had exited his house. Sirius showed the man his yellow ticket, but the old man motioned for him to put it away.
"Come in, come in, you must be weary," the man said. Sirius thanked him, and followed him inside. "Our lives are humble, but what we have, we have to share."
The house wasn't extravagant, but was certainly comfortable. He saw two silver candlesticks were on the table and burning brightly. Sirius and the man-whose name was Albus Dumbledore, he learned-sat down at the table to eat. Sirius hadn't had a real meal in years, and ate ravenously. He thanked Dumbledore repeatedly as the servants came in with a cot and bedding for him. After thanking them all again, he went to bed.
Actually, he pretended to go to bed. He couldn't get the image of all that silver out of his head. The silver would be worth much more than the farmer had given him. Because of that stupid yellow ticket, he'd never be able to earn a decent living. After he was certain Dumbledore and the others were asleep, he snuck into the dining room and took all the silver except for the candlesticks, which were too hot for him to handle. He dashed out into the street.
Sirius did not get far; before long, he was seized by two guards whom Sirius recognized from Azkaban--they worked for Snape. They brought him back to Dumbledore's house.
"Stealing?" one of them asked as he emptied Sirius's bag onto the floor.
"No!" Sirius lied. "It was a gift! He gave them to me!"
Dumbledore came down the stairs.
"What is going on here?"
"Go ahead, tell him your story! Let's see if he's impressed!" the second guard said.
"He says you gave this silver to him as a gift!" the first guard said.
"That is true," Dumbledore said. Sirius looked up, unable to believe it. "But, you left so early, you left these behind."
He held up the candlesticks, which were wrapped in cloth.
"I do not think a thief would leave the best behind," Dumbledore said. The two guards looked uneasy. "Release this man; he is telling the truth. I praise you for doing your duty." The guards left. Dumbledore scooped all of the silver, including the candlesticks, into a bag and handed the bag to Sirius.
"But remember this, Sirius Black. I want you to take the silver I am giving you and become and honest man." Sirius nodded, taking the bag.
"Thank you," he whispered. Dumbledore nodded, and Sirius left.
"What have I done?" Sirius whispered. "What have I done?" He'd become a thief in the night. There was nothing left but the cries of his hate. 20 years ago, they'd branded his chest with a number and murdered Sirius Black. He'd been thrown in Azkaban without a trial, just because Pettigrew had framed him. But Dumbledore had taken him in and treated him like a human being. And Sirius, who had come to hate the world that had hated him, repaid Dumbledore by stealing his silver.
When the Azkaban guards had caught him, his fate rested in Dumbledore's hands, Sirius realized. Shame filled him. Maybe Dumbledore was right-there might be another way for him to go. Sirius made a decision.
He reached into his pocket, took the yellow ticket of leave, and ripped into shreds, letting the pieces be blown away by the wind. Sirius Black was nothing now-it was time for another story to begin.
