Thick Walls, Thicker Bonds

Chapter Three

Fifteen years. Fifteen horrible, long, lonely years. That's how long he'd been here, locked in this cell. His mind was broken; he had just enough sense left to recognize that. His body was unkempt, sore, unhealthy, unlovely and almost as broken as his mind. But it was his heart that hurt the most. Once a month, he'd spy the beautiful, silvery full moon through his cell window. The wondrous, magical sight filled his soul with longing, nostalgia and pain all at once. He wondered where his mate was. He wondered if his gentle wolf had ever found happiness.

Sirius hoped so, even though it pained him to imagine Remus in another's arms.

He had no idea what was happening in the outside world. Dumbledore, the man who had secured the Fedilius Charm to Pettigrew, must have been killed in the war. Why else hadn't the Headmaster come to free him? Albus knew of his innocence. The Dark must have won. Sirius could only find comfort in that sweet little Harry was probably with his Remus. And Remus was probably living a better life than he had previously; it was well known that the Dark was fighting for creature rights.

Sirius curled up in his animagus form, hiding under his bed from the dementors. The screams of the other prisoners rang through the cold prison of Azkaban. The moan of the dementors and the pounding of the guards footsteps were just as much of a constant. Sirius had nearly managed to drift off to sleep, a small miracle in and of itself, when voices—sane voices—were heard just outside his cell. Slowly, Sirius pulled himself up and towards the bars of his cell. He was a human now. Two men stood outside, a guard and an official looking man Sirius didn't recognize.

"…but who knows when the Dark Lord will make a move?" asked the guard. "Just because he's been quiet so far doesn't mean it'll stay that way. He's probably just gaining support, in the shadows, until he's strong enough to topple the ministry."

"Nah," argued the other man. "He'd most likely go straight for Dumbledore. Him or the Prophecy Child."

"Longbottom?" asked the guard skeptically. Then he gave a mocking laugh. "Ha! That kid probably doesn't know the front of his own wand to the back."

Sirius' head was spinning. Wasn't Harry the prophecy child? And Dumbledore…was alive? "Too bad about the Potter kid, both his parents were so powerful. If he'd survived he would have made a far more capable 'saviour'." Both men nodded sadly as they walked on.

Sirius felt like he'd been sucker punched in the gut. Harry… Merlin no… Harry was dead? A sob fell from his lips. What of Remus? Was Remus all alone? Remus couldn't handle being alone! Remus, sweet Remy… No… was his mate dead? NO! Sirius would have felt it in the bond if Remus had passed on. Wouldn't he? Or was he too far gone?

Sirius transformed. He hadn't eaten in over a month, couldn't bring himself to touch a bite of the horrible, meager stuff they called food here. He was so skinny, he just padded right through the bars. No one paid attention to the scrawny, half dead dog that limped out of Azkaban. At the edge of the sea, Sirius paused, wondering if he'd make it to the other side. Then he dove in, deciding it didn't really matter, one way or the other.

***1047***

Remus stared mournfully at the full moon, his snout supported on his two huge paws. Severus and he had long since mended their relationship. One might even call them friends. They had made this strange agreement a while ago: Whenever Severus wanted a day off, Remus would 'sub' for him. In return, Remus was 'gifted' a generous supply of Wolfsbane Potion for his birthday, Easter, Christmas… the occasional Friday…