Eleven: In the Sky
August 11th, 1982
The four of them had always been good at Astronomy. James was good at everything, save Herbology, and he treated the subject like a puzzle or a map, finding stars and naming them. It had been one of Peter’s better subjects, though he was never fond of it. Neither he nor James continued taking Astronomy past their O.W.L.s. Neither James nor Peter had any real connection to the sky.
Sirius and Remus both had their reasons for being good at Astronomy. Sirius’ parents had been teaching him Astronomy since he was old enough to know where his name came from. By the time he came to Hogwarts he had been ahead of his class by roughly three years. Remus learned Astronomy out of necessity at first, so that he would always know when the moon was coming to claim him. But then he found himself fascinated with the orb that held so much power-over the months, over tides, over him. This slightly morbid fascination spread to the other celestial bodies, until he could name everything he would ever see in the sky.
It is a clear night, and the stars reflect and refract upon the water. Remus sets to rowing, in a little boat borrowed from a Muggle fisherman in the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed. When he grows tired he charms the boat to keep moving, with the speed of a motorboat but none of its noise. Sitting silently in the stern, it is easy for Remus to pick out his two points of reference in the sky-the Moon, and Sirius.
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Azkaban Prison, situated in the North Sea, can be reached in only two ways. Though the Porter’s Office has a very ancient fireplace which is considered of historical importance, it is not connected to the Floo Network, for extra security.
--Albert Cropping, Institutions of Wizarding Britain, page 453
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Remus has been planning for days. He has not told Dumbledore what he is planning, because he is not entirely sure that Dumbledore would approve his methods. Dumbledore knows that his own belief in Sirius’ innocence is not proof in Sirius’ innocence, and Remus suspects that he would rather wait for proof before trying anything. But Remus is fuelled by the need for revenge against Peter, for justice. He spent too long learning to trust his friends to be betrayed by one of them. Especially Peter. If he had ever really believed, with all his heart, that Sirius were the traitor, he would have felt this way a year ago. And he is not sure he can do it alone. Remus has always needed Sirius, though he knows Sirius would say, took you long enough to admit it, Moony.
The soft little mouse in his coat pocket burrows deeper, and he pats it absently.
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The prison may be reached by boat, but no boats are kept on the island. It may be also be reached by Apparition, but the prisoners have no wands and it is not possible to Apparate without one. All cells have wards against Apparition placed upon them.
--Albert Cropping, Institutions of Wizarding Britain, page 453
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Azkaban first makes its presence known as a great solid mass of darkness, blacker than the rest of the night and obscuring the stars that should be visible in the sky behind it. The only light is a single point of gold near the base of the prison, incongruously resembling a star. The boat bumps softly against the rock of the island, and Remus ties the painter around a large stone. Still sitting in the boat, he pulls the mouse out of his pocket and points his wand at it. It twitches and squeaks, and then it is changing. Against the night, the dark fur of the dog looks like a shadow. Remus wishes he had light, so he could check his Transfiguration, make sure nothing has gone wrong, that the dog looks as it should. But he has too often fallen asleep with Padfoot curled around his knees not to know every fur and angle of the creature.
He gets out of the boat, and the dog follows. The light at the base of the prison looms larger, no longer like a star. He comes to a door and knocks, the lantern hanging next to the door swings slightly. Someone answers-backlit, he cannot see the Porter’s face.
“I am here to see Sirius Black. I am sent by Albus Dumbledore.”
-
The Porter of Azkaban has an unsavoury job. Though dementors guard the prison, they do not fully understand that officials must sometimes visit it, nor do they understand who must be allowed entrance and who must not. Dementors guard the prisoners, the Porter guards the door. The walls of his rooms are imbued with many layers of many people’s Patronuses, because the spell has been cast there so many times. Dementors do not enter, but they stand guard outside the door to the rest of the prison, and take visitors to the visited. The Porter must never leave the door.
--Albert Cropping, Institutions of Wizarding Britain, page 454
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“Come in.”
Remus enters, the dog following obediently at his heels. He looks at it in the light, and has to catch his breath. It looks, in every way, like Padfoot. The Porter, an elderly fellow with a round face and green eyes, watches Remus. “Good evening,” Remus says, for lack of anything else. He does not give his name.
“You wish to see Sirius Black? Very well.” This is the one part of the plan on which Remus was forced to seek Dumbledore’s help. They would not let just anyone in to Azkaban, especially not to see such a high security prisoner as Sirius. But Remus feels sure that giving Dumbledore’s name will give him entrance. And he is unwilling to give Dumbledore’s name without Dumbledore’s consent. Remus suspects that the Headmaster always expected him to want to see Sirius sooner or later. He has never been sure how much Dumbledore knows about their friendship. Or whatever it is, or was. Or will be.
Almost before he knows it, Remus is following a dementor down a cold stone hall. He shivers, and wishes he could conjure a Patronus. But it doesn’t seem prudent, so he grits his teeth and tries to fight off the effects of the dementor. He weaves his fingers into the dog’s fur, and tries not to look through the bars of the cells they are passing.
And then Remus sees him…. He is lying on his back, hands clasped over his chest, staring at the ceiling. He looks like an effigy, cold and pale in death. But he is not dead. Remus watches his chest rise and fall. He steps to the bars, and ignores the dementor, which waits, back turned, guarding. “Sirius….”
Sirius is not as Remus remembers him. Remus remembers sleek black hair, soft lips, sparkling eyes, a lingering smile. He has never seen this version of Sirius, hair matted, eyes dull, skin greyish, looking as if it will take a week of showers to get the dirt off him. “Sirius….”
Sirius doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. “Sirius, it’s me. It’s Remus.” He clears his throat. “It’s Moony.”
“You’re not here, you’re a ghost. Moony doesn’t come here.”
Remus thinks Sirius’ mood must have swung since Dumbledore saw him. Dumbledore described him as being awake, alive, desperate. But today, Sirius seems lost in his misery.
“A ghost wouldn’t remember the last thing you told me, Sirius. You told me to trust you, the week before…you know. You told me to trust you.”
In one fluid motion, Sirius springs up and is grasping the bars of his cell, fingers curling over Remus’, staring into his face. “Why are you here?”
“Padfoot, look.” Remus gestures to the dog, and Sirius’ eyes widen.
“You’re here to-” He stumbles on his words, Remus wonders if he’s spoken much in the last year. “Oh, God, you’re here. Have you found him? Caught him?”
Remus shakes his head. “I need you for that.”
Sirius is transforming, and though Remus is prepared to widen the spaces between the bars, just a little, he has no need of it. Padfoot has always been a big dog. But he’s lost weight. He fits through. And then Remus is pointing his wand at the other dog, the one that is not Sirius, and the mouse is back in his pocket, and they are following the dementor back to the Porter’s office. The dementor does not know no one remains in the cell. It can tell there are feeling creatures, it cannot tell how many.
The Porter nods to Remus, says, “Good night.”
“Thank you,” Remus says, and shakes his hand. Padfoot is at Remus’ heels, nudging at the back of his knee. The Porter lets them out the door, and the door is shut on Azkaban. The night is black, but no blacker than the prison, and Sirius Black is out in it, under the stars.
He curls under the seat in the boat, nose on his paws. Remus unties the boat from its mooring, and with another tap of his wand sends it speeding out across the water, back towards land.
“I imagine it’s been a long time since you saw the sky,” Remus mutters. He finds the Sirius in the sky again, and watches it twinkle. Padfoot whimpers, watching a shooting star streak across the sky and plunge into the horizon. “Make a wish, Padfoot.”
-
The cell doors are never opened. The prison is guarded by dementors, who affect the prisoners so as to weaken them to the point where they are unable to consider escape. No one has ever escaped from Azkaban-it is deemed impossible.
--Albert Cropping, Institutions of Wizarding Britain, page 454
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Of the four Marauders, the two in the sky remain.
Day Twelve