Plotting
When you were completely silent, you could listen to Azkaban’s own sounds. There was the distant crashing of cold waves against the rocks of the island. The smell of foam and salt crept up the stone walls like a fog of tears. There also was, now and then, a groaning or whimpering, like the sounds of giant bowels. It was barely imaginable that these were people ...
How did he do it? Remus wondered. Sirius had spent almost thirteen years in this place, and still there had been something left of him. He looked down at the parts of himself he could see: his bruised hands, the fresh tattoos on his arm. Sirius had had them on his chest and neck, looking by far more painful. Had the guards done it on purpose, in the heat of Voldemort’s defeat, rejoicing in the victory over the supposed Death Eater? Had Sirius ever protested? He hadn’t seen him after his imprisonment, and had ever since felt guilty about that. He only remembered the photos, Sirius laughing and struggling with the dully gleaming eyes of a madman. He had looked like a stranger and Remus had decided that this was what he would be: a stranger, a man who had deceived their hearts completely.
His thoughts wandered back to their own situation. Azkaban had changed. There were less Dementors now, for half of them had changed sides. What a terrible weapon at Voldemort’s hand. But there were more and more convicts, so many that they had to share cells now. Not real Death Eaters, for they escaped quickly these days. How long had Lucius Malfoy been in prison? Two weeks? But people who committed minor crimes out of the hope that they would somehow be less of a target if they did evil things. How absurd. His shoes, for the first time he noticed that there were no laces on them. No escape for us, he thought bitterly, in any form.
But surely you could do it. You could tempt the Dementors, for example, and let them take your soul. Yet, who would want that? Then rather take off all clothes and freeze to death, or starve yourself. If he died, Snape would live. If he lived to see the next full moon, Snape would die and he would surely be executed.
The clank of metal brought him back from that mental journey. Someone was coming. It was the wordless aide, carrying the keys and a floating tray with food. Stacked under his arm he carried dirty blankets. Snape jumped to his feet before the man even arrived at their cell.
“I need to talk to the director of this place! Are you listening, squib? I need to talk to him! Instantly!”
The man threw him a deadened look and pushed two plates with a badly smelling gruel and the blankets through the bars. He went on, stiff movements like a zombie. Was he a simpleton, a mute man maybe? Or was that only the prolonged stay at Azkaban which had made him be like that? But Snape hadn’t given up yet.
“I haven’t been sentenced to death, you fool! This man is a werewolf! A werewolf, do you get it? He’ll rip me apart, come the next full moon! I want the director!”
Remus got up, snatched one of the blankets and one plate with food. How he craved a bar of chocolate, or better even, a mug of steaming hot chocolate and cream, right now. He went back to his side of the cell, wrapping the blanket around himself. Finally Snape stopped his yelling, grabbed the other blanket but didn’t give his gruel a second look. Remus examined his. It was grey, smelled moldy, and had thick chunks of something unidentifiable in it. He grimaced. There was no way you could even pretend it was something tasteful.
“A cup of tea and a bar of chocolate,” he sighed under his breath. Snape smirked.
“I thought you would rather go for the raw meat.” Remus rolled his eyes in exasperation while tasting the gruel.
“Please, Severus, at least drop the silly clichés if you can’t drop the insulting.”
He forced himself to eat, then put the plate away and tried, just for passing time, to scratch at the ground with his spoon. Greenish dirt came away, but nothing else. Then he examined his blanket. It was felt, unfit to build ropes, but warming at least.
“This is going to be the most spectacular jailbreak ever, if we’re going to make it. Twenty-one days time, the most notorious wizard prison ever and no help from outside,” he mused with a smile.
“But we aren’t going to make it.” It was so gloomy now that they could barely see each other, and it took away some of the edge in their voices, too. Snape spoke in his smooth, cold voice now, tired of arguing but also tired of his company.
“It’ll be kind of hard,” Remus agreed. He wasn’t actually a very hopeful person, but he didn’t give up easily, either. “If only we had enough time. We could learn to become animagi, I know how it’s done, I’ve watched it ... “.
“Stop dreaming, Lupin. I dropped Transfiguration after fifth year.” Remus grinned, knowing he was safe to do so in the darkness.
“Right, you were worst of our class, even though Minerva liked you more than Peter, or me, or James and Sirius, for that matter, at least most of the time.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying. She told me so.” Snape didn’t answer.
“I never tried to learn it, because I feared my Animagus form would be “ well you know, the wolf. No good there.”
“Give it up, Lupin. There’s no way we will escape this cell on our own. But we’ll get to the authorities, I’ll make sure of that.”
“But what if the authorities don’t care? It was a conspiracy from the beginning on, and they know about me. For them I’m a second class human, if human at all. Regulus Black also knows about me. He managed to get us jailed, why shouldn’t he also try to get us killed in such a convenient way?”
It was the first time one of them mentioned their reason for being here : Regulus Black, the recently re-appeared, long missing brother of Sirius Black. It had all happened during the summer after Sirius’ death and the following school term.
Regulus Black had reappeared, a few years younger than Sirius and looking almost like him, except his hair was fairer and his eyes had a strange color. There was a highly improbable, but also highly proven story behind his reappearance. He had not, as everyone thought, been killed by Death Eaters.
He had vanished some years before the death of the Potters, and was presumed dead. But what really happened was this : Regulus, desperate to leave the Death Eaters, comes running to the only person he can think of, Sirius. Sirius, though unconvinced, brings him to Dumbledore. And the old man tries what he would later again try with Snape. He made him a spy for the order, in exchange promising him protection. But Regulus, unskilled in Occlumency, is discovered by Voldemort. He realizes this and thinks his last hour has come. He tells his brother, and Sirius - in an act oft uncharacteristic forgiveness and mercy - comes up with a hilarious rescue plan.
They drive to a muggle zoo (the best place they can think of to get a big animal body inside of London) , stupefy an animal, which happens to be a lion, Sirius transfigures his brother into the lion and the beast into Regulus. They hide close by, until the lion wakes up. The poor beast, in his human form, is immensely confused, staggering around and growling and mewling. Not much later, the Death Eater killing squadron pops up, because Regulus’ dark mark is near by, they see the lion-man and kill him, leaving the body in plain view for everyone to see. But in fact they have only killed a zoo lion. Regulus, in need for a hiding, is left at the zoo (actually this was a prank by Sirius). He promises to fetch him and turn him human again once he is out of danger.
Not much later, Sirius is convicted, and nobody else knows of the enchanted lion-wizard in the London zoo. Only fifteen years later, when his older brother dies, the charm wears off and Regulus Black can finally walk out of the lion cage (though a lion injures his left leg).
And he reappears in Number 12, Grimmauld Place, and reclaims his property, just in time to save it from the Malfoys. Everyone is confused, but glad. He joins the order, wins the sympathy of Harry Potter (who sees much of Sirius in him). He proves his story to Dumbledore and his name is cleared easily, now that Dumbledore’s influence at the Ministry is big again. But of course, he is in danger, from his old buddies, the Death Eaters. And so he seeks refuge at Hogwarts, as the new Defense teacher. Soon, he is everybody’s darling.
The only ones who are suspicious, are, ironically, Remus Lupin and Severus Snape. Lupin, because the Regulus Black he remembers from school days is a pathetic, untalented little snob and not at all like this man. And Snape, because he simply hates the guy. There are a hundred-and-one reasons for Snape to hate him, or so he feels. And then Dumbledore vanishes off the spot. Big chaos, Potter in danger, Voldemort cackles with glee.
And just some nights ago, Remus and Severus find themselves called to a secret order meeting, something only Dumbledore and Fawkes can do. They hopefully Apparate to the meeting place, only to be confronted with two men in Death Eater robes. They fight, the Death Eaters are killed a lot to easily, and suddenly the place is full of Aurors, and the dead Death Eaters are harmless muggles. The next thing Remus remembers is being hit by stunning spells several times. And that’s it. Next thing he knows, he’s on a boat to Azkaban. Now, who’s the most suspicious guy? Regulus Black.
“But that hilarious Black couldn’t kill Dumbledore,” Snape insisted. “He is even more inept than his brother.”
“He certainly couldn’t when I knew him in school ... no one could do that. Not even Voldemort, not in direct confrontation. But what if he tricked him? Dumbledore trusted him, everyone does,” Remus sadly admitted. And the more they trusted Regulus, the less they trusted him, it seemed. It had felt terrible, those last months, almost like before, when the other marauders started to distrust him during Voldemort’s first rise.
“And he couldn’t just kill us, that would be highly suspicious. So he makes it look like we’re traitors, murderers, and then I conveniently kill you while in Azkaban.” Snape said nothing and Lupin took it as a way of agreement. Another long silence stretched between them.
“Well, the ground is solid stone, so no tunnel digging. We haven’t got sacrificing mothers or fathers, so we’ll not pull a Barty Crouch Jr. There is no ventilation system, either.”
“And we don’t have any dying monks available to switch clothes,” Snape added quietly. It was the first constructive thing he had said since they arrived, and Remus laughed.
“You read Muggle literature?” he asked. “That’s funny.”
“You’re quite the hypocrite when it comes to clichés, Lupin. How Gryffindor,” Snape smoothly answered. Again Remus chuckled.
“That’s not what I wanted to say. It’s just that the ‘Count of Monte Christo’ was one of Sirius’ favourite books. The only Muggle book he got into his hands in his childhood.”
“Adventure novels. Surprising that he read at all.” admit
“He didn’t read a lot,” Remus conceded. “But speaking of that book ... we do have an advantage to all those people who didn't manage to break out of Azkaban : we’re two in a cell. Probably because of the many people Fudge has arrested “ Azkaban is getting to small. And half of the Dementors have changed sides.” Why only half of them was a bit of a riddle, but he was almost sure that Dumbledore knew why. There had been hints before, that Dumbledore knows more about Dementors than other people, and Remus dimly remembered having heard of him being mentioned in the context of the first appearance of Dementors roughly fifty years ago. Because Dementors haven’t just always been here at Azkaban, they only appeared around that time, after the muggle war.
“Didn’t we already agree that sharing a cell is our main disadvantage? Hell, sharing anything with you would be.”
“But we could pull some kind of plot, like the Count, or something else. Come on, put your clever mind to it, our heads are all we have, right now.” Remus himself was turning his brain upside down, but nothing came of it. He was never good at solving riddles or coming up with schemes. That had been a specialty of Messrs. Padfoot and Prongs. Maybe it was time to see if Snape was brilliant in other areas besides potions brewing.
“Even if we managed to get out of this cell, we would have to get past the Dementors. And past the sea.”
“Sirius swam all the way. And he wasn’t nearly as healthy as we are.”
“But he was a mutt at the time and pretty much fanatic, or am I wrong?”
Remus sighed. Snape seemed unwilling to plot, or was also lacking imagination. It was bitterly cold by now, and he longed to curl up in a real bed. Why didn’t he feel angry? Deceived, at least, or treated badly? Sirius had survived all those years sustained by his burning hunger for revenge, and here he was, also innocent, also put into Azkaban without trial, having to share his cell with the probably least co-operative person he knew, and yet he was only feeling extremely uncomfortable.
Sirius would say I just lack the fire for burning revenge, he reckoned, huddling deeper into his blanket. The straw was a pathetic excuse for a bedding, on some places it didn’t even cover the stone ground. The barred hole by the top of the wall threw a greenish square of light on the bars, so faint it was probably invisible for human eyes. Azkaban smelled terribly, and now that he was no longer distracted, the stench assaulted his preternatural nose with vicious power. Fear was the overriding note, but more direct were all kinds of bodily smells, sweat, urine, excrements, illness, decay. And the biting salt of the sea, the damp stone, the faint smell of human ashes from the yard ... a cocktail of terror, sweetened with madness.
The bile rose in his stomach, and before he could even think about it he had jumped from where he lay and was clutching the bars of their cell, violently throwing up. Hanging on the iron bars, his body seemed to turn inside out. All the gruel and a bit of black blood hit the stones, adding to the horrible smell. He shivered, leaning his head against the cool metal. Straw and hairs clung to his damp face. The darkness had no words for him. He bit his lip and closed his eyes. Then crawled back to his blanket, wrapping it around his body in a lonely hug.
Note : "The Count of Monte Christo" is a novel by Alexandre Dumas and also a kind of cliché in fandom concerning Sirius. The Count is living as a prisoner on the dreary island of Monte Christo for long years due to a mean plot against him, and finally manages to flee when he changes places with the corpse of a dead monk that is shipped away from the island. He then takes bitter revenge (a large bit of this story obviously went into Sirius history, but was also used for Barty Crouch Jr.'s story by JKR). I think that Remus likes books (do you know shoebox project or lady jaidas works? ;)) and that Snape is a very lonely man which too much free time who probably reads a book once in a while, too.