Azkaban Black

Pain makes me Stronger

Azrael Regulus Black's second Animagus form was a Dementor.

On his transformation Sirius screamed and scrambled back as the Dementor's faceless hood turned to him. Even the effect was replicated, Sirius could feel himself draining, was remembering so much-

Azrael was back in a flash, and he sat in front of Sirius, trying to figure out what was wrong. Azrael wasn't very affected by the dementors, seeing as he'd basically grown up with them. He apologized profusely, but couldn't do much more than that as Sirius was locked back into his memories.

Bellatrix was cackling, eyes crazed with madness. Azrael was instructed not to approach her when she got like this.

Rookwood sat silently. This wasn't exactly what he'd asked for but it'd do.

He was coming along in his Dark and Blood magic. Runes was tricky without being able to exactly see his teacher but not impossible. Nothing was impossible, he could do it all.

He had successfully mastered French, and Rookwood would move to Latin tomorrow. They couldn't let up, couldn't slow down, the residents of the North Tower only had four more years til their boy left for the real world, and they had to prepare him, had to get him ready as quickly as they could and there was so much left to learn-

It was time for his third form, Padfoot insisted he was ready, so he closed his eyes and cycled through his other two forms to prepare himself. Thestral, dementor, thestral, dementor, bone popping and cracking as he wheeled, wings unfurling then swiftly falling to become a cloak barely wafting over the ground, and he added his human self in the mix. Thestral, dementor, Az, thestral, dementor, Az, thestraldementorAzthestraldementorAz deathdeathboy deathdeathdeathNOW-

A black dog stood before the onlookers, similar to Sirius' Padfoot, but very different.

Padfoot was a mockery of the Grim. Azrael was the Grim.

He stood a good two feet above the stone floor, padding about the cell in midair. His eyes glowed with green fire and his maw dripped with blood. He stopped pacing and looked Sirius in the eye, who whimpered and shrank back. The Grim cocked his head in a doglike manner, and its tongue lolled playfully, but the fire in its eyes kept anyone from believing it was a mere dog.

He shifted back, and looked at Sirius with sad, pleading eyes.

"I'm sorry, Siri," he whispered. "I'm sorry I can't be who you want me to be."

But Sirius shook himself and swiftly gathered Azrael into a crushing embrace.

"You don't need to worry about that," he said. "You be you, Pup, and that'll be plenty for me."

Azrael's eyes closed in bliss and he hugged his Padfoot tighter, but Sirius's fear-stricken eyes lifted to make eye contact with Bellatrix, who was frozen in her cage where she had been watching eagerly.

Bella met his gaze, and they matched each other.

That was one of the only times anyone saw Bellatrix Lestrange afraid.

Azrael's ninth birthday came, the anniversary of the day he appeared in Sirius' cell injured and sobbing.

Azrael wriggled excitedly as he looked up at his Aunt Bella with adoring eyes. She was going to show him real power today, something real witches and wizards could do.

He had gone in his Dementor form and brought back a different prisoner from a different wing, a convicted raper of Muggles.

Aunt Bella said anyone who consorted with Muggles was filthy, and Azrael would be doing the world a favor.