The silence was a gift from heaven, Sirius was sure. If ever he had the opportunity to be granted one wish, apart from freedom, silence would be his wish. For silence was a treasure here. Even if the silence only lasted for a second, only a pause between the cries of agony, it was still relished by him, every moment of it. Sirius did most of his sleeping during the day, when the moaning was at its pinnacle, when the pain and suffering were tangible in the air. He would sleep through it all, waiting until midnight for the darkness to save him. Most of the time the shrieks stayed in the air even at night, for screaming in one’s sleep was not unusual in Azkaban, but it was always better, more tolerable at night.

Sirius would stare out at the stars, searching for the constellation he was named after, tracing it over and over again with his finger. Concentration, that was what kept him sane; that was his secret to keeping his mind when all the rest of the world had gone to hell – well, all of his world anyway. It also helped that when he was Padfoot, he still remembered whom he actually was, that he meant something; when he was Padfoot he could still keep a few happy memories from the Dementors. He laughed out loud as he remembered the time when James decided that it would be fun to see if Professor McGonagall would notice if he transfigured an ashwinder into a quill and gave it to her. Sirius could still remember the look of horror on her face as her quill started trying to wiggle out of her grasp and ended up falling down the front of her robes, oh the scene was still freshly painted in his mind.

James falling down with laughter, Remus trying to keep a straight face as their teacher dug down the front of her robe for the wiggling item, Peter crying with silent mirth as she tripped over her desk, knocking the jar of beetles (to be used in the day’s lesson) crashing to the floor. And he, unable to contain himself any longer as the quill exploded into ash, sending it flying from every opening of Professor McGonagall’s robe.

Those were Sirius’s happy days, when Voldemort was of no concern to the four fun-loving second-years and so many useful items and spells were at their disposal. The dungbombs set off under the Christmas feast table, the entire Slytherin Quidditch team’s brooms painted in Gryffindor colors, lying at the foot of their beds the day of their final match, and, of course, the hybrid mixture of dungbombs, filibusters, and Christmas crackers Sirius gave to all of the fifth year boys for Christmas. Oh yes, the Shitty Water-Start Poppers, changed to Stinky Water-Start Poppers after Sirius was given a detention for saying the name in hearing distance of a professor. Sirius wished he had one of those now, he’d love to see it go off in the cloak of a Dementor, of course the first smile on his face from his antics would immediately be wiped off his face as the rest of the Dementors sensed his happiness and came to feed off it.

Sirius wished he had a lot of things while he lay awake in his cell, but most of all he wished he had Moony, yeah, just one – just one free night – with Remus and he would be happy to give up on life because he would finally be able to make peace with the one person that mattered to him.

Remus could finally know the truth about that night and no longer would he worship that scum eating, that piss drinking, that... that... that RAT! No longer would he hate Sirius. One night with Moony – he would give anything for it – just one night to be with his friend and he could leave this life in peace to join Lily and James. No, he shouldn’t think like that, he still had a mission.

Sirius looked down at the floor of his cell and saw a crinkled, yellowed newspaper where the red-haired and freckled Weasley children stood waving and Arthur and Molly with them. And on one boy’s shoulder, Ron, the paper had said, he sat. Sirius decided that he was too tired to keep thinking about all these things and crawled over to his nest of blankets in the corner, where he changed into Padfoot and curled himself up. Although Sirius wouldn’t remember this the next day, before he drifted into sleep he swore he could hear a very familiar howl in the distance. An awkward smile formed on Padfoot’s face as he drifted into a deep slumber, the full moon’s light shining through his window and illuminating him.

Author's Note:

I love everyone so if you want to use a quote from my story, an idea from it, or just want to host it on your site then go right ahead! Just please make sure to name me at the beginning or end of the chapter please!