Chapter 19
Sirius Black laid on his back, staring out the small gap in the upper bricks of his cell that served as a window. The dark, cloudy sky never really changed, but it was afternoon, and that was sky-watching time. Morning was for staring at the walls, afternoon was for staring at the sky, and nighttime was for staring at the floor.
It was important to have a routine.
The first iteration of the routine had him watching the walls at night, but that hadn’t worked out. The walls closed in at night. Same with the sky – the blackness of the night became like a weight, that dragged you down into panic and despair.
So, nighttime was floors, walls in the morning, and sky in the afternoon.
Sirius’ routine was interrupted by clanging and shouting from a lower level echoing up through the stone tower. It must have been a new prisoner coming in. Dementors left deafening silence behind them, the midday ‘meal’ had already been dished out, and it wasn’t yet time for the evening meal. Guard change was on a Sunday, and it was only Wednesday.
Calendars were important too. Sirius had been in this cell for 1,111 days. That felt auspicious.
The clanging brought his drifting attention back. The sound seemed to be getting louder, and Sirius broke eye contact with the wall to look out into the corridor. There was no reason for anyone to come up here. This floor was for lifers, and it was pretty much full. Maybe someone had died in the night, and they were shuffling some prisoners around. That happened occasionally.
The racket was drawing closer and closer, and Sirius shifted his position on his ragged mattress to see a little better.
He needn’t have bothered to move – the group causing the chaos and screaming from various prisoners stopped right outside his cell.
‘Sirius Black, you are hereby summoned to the Ministry of Magic to await trial for your accused crimes.’
Sirius blinked.
‘Stand up, Black, and place your hands on the bar here.’
Sirius blinked again, then slowly unfolded himself and shuffled awkwardly over to the bars, placing his hands as directed. He could feel his muscles twitching in protest at the short distance. His body was wasting away in here – the lack of nutritious food, sunlight, or space to exercise taking a rapid toll. Not to mention the magic dampening runes carved into the doorways of each cell.
Magic suppressing cuffs clicked into place around his wrists, and Sirius buckled, dropping to his knees.
Huh. His magic must have still been working to keep him going, even if he wasn’t able to use it in here.
Guards opened his cell and hoisted him roughly under the arms, then made to let go. Sirius’ legs gave out immediately, and the guards grabbed him again, holding his weight.
‘You will receive medical attention at the Ministry if necessary, Black. Come along.’
Whoever this lackey was, they were by the books. No hint of sympathy for the walking skeleton being half-carried along behind him. Sirius supposed that was better though, maybe. Pity was an awful thing.
Even still, a little more consideration would have been nice. A Portkey from the corridor outside his cell, rather than being dragged down seven flights of cold stone stairs and out into the driving rain, then hustled onto a shabby wooden boat that might not last the trip to shore…
Sirius barely shivered as the freezing ocean sloshed into the boat. He was already exhausted from being mostly carried here. Fortunately, a dash of pity from one guard had a brush of warm air blowing over him, drying him and keeping the water at bay.
Maybe pity wasn’t so awful, actually.
Sirius leaned back and stared at the sky. It was still afternoon, after all.
Afternoons were for watching the sky.
Some indeterminable amount of time later, Sirius’ attention was pulled rudely back to Earth, as he was assisted (mostly carried, again) into a metal chair, where he was held in place by magical restraints.
‘Sirius Black, you are here to face trial for your accused crimes, namely using illegal magics, casting illegal magics on another person, and public violence and rioting. Do you consent to the use of Veritaserum in this trial?’
Sirius blinked slowly. ‘Are you Millie Bones?’ he rasped, voice rough and hoarse. ‘Hi Millie. I think Veritaserum will kill me right now.’
‘I am Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE.’ The stern witch replied, no hint of a smile.
‘Good on you, Millie. Always said you’d do something good. And fair. Puffs are always fair.’ Sirius rambled, feeling like there were razorblades in his throat. ‘Water?’
Madam Bones gave a nod, and a glass of water appeared before Sirius, who drank greedily. When the glass was empty, he blinked. ‘Who was holding that?’ he asked blankly, wiggling his bound hands.
‘Sirius Black, do you understand the reason you are here today?’ Madam Bones asked sternly.
‘Someone realised I never had a trial, probably.’ Sirius said absently, eyes roaming over the room. ‘What time is it?’
‘You are indeed here to stand trial for your accused crimes. If you are found guilty, you will return to Azkaban. If you are found innocent, you will be released, with compensation for time served unlawfully. Do you understand?’
‘Yep. What time is it?’ Sirius asked again, more insistent.
‘It is 11pm. Do you consent to the use of Veritaserum for this trial?’
Sirius’ gaze dropped to the floor. Nighttime was for watching the floor. ‘Late session. Must be some outrage brewing. Can’t lock up a Lord and throw away the key. Naughty, naughty.’ Sirius mumbled in a sing-song tone.
‘Sirius Black, do you consent to the use of Veritaserum for this trial?’ Madam Bones asked, voice hard and rising slightly in volume.
Sirius glanced up. ‘Yes but no. I’ll take it, but if I take it now, I’ll die. That chap said I could have medical care here. Was he lying? I’d have come anyway, just for the chance to have a chat and see the sights. He needn’t have lied.’ Sirius grumbled petulantly.
‘He’s gone mad!’ someone hissed, followed by a round of shushes.
‘He hasn’t gone deaf, though.’ Sirius said mildly, clicking his tongue reprovingly.
Madam Bones held back a sigh. Sirius certainly hadn’t seemed to change all that much from his school days. Flatter, less exuberant – but no less troublesome or quick-witted, it would seem.
‘This meeting will take a thirty-minute recess, in which time Mr Black will be assessed by a healer to determine his ability to safely take Veritaserum.’
‘Lord Black.’ Sirius mumbled, but he didn’t think anyone heard him over the shuffling and rustling.
The magical restraints loosened when the guards came to scoop him up and drag him off to be checked over.
The healer was a no-nonsense woman with short hair and brisk manner. She directed the guards to lay Sirius on a bed and set to casting diagnostics. Her frown grew deeper and deeper as she examined the results.
‘Would you be interested in supporting Azkaban reforms? I myself think the place is utterly barbaric. Did you know you go to the same place regardless of your crime? There’s a young fellow over there right now, who tripped and fell through a window display and broke several expensive broomsticks, and now he’s in Azkaban because he couldn’t afford to pay the damages. He’ll be in similar shape to me, I’d say, by the time he’s let out.’
The healer’s expression was positively thunderous after Sirius’ little speech.
‘I will most certainly be looking into the matter. If what you say has even a kernel of truth…’
Sirius zoned out a bit, staring at the wall.
No – it was nighttime! He rolled to his side and stared down at the floor. Must have a routine, or you’ll end up going crazy, thought Sirius.
‘Mr Black! Lay on your back and stay still.’ The healer scolded.
Oh. Right. That’s why he hadn’t been looking at the floor. Sirius rolled sheepishly to his back, mumbling an apology.
‘There is a considerable amount of damage, Mr Black.’ The healer began. ‘You were correct in saying Veritaserum would likely kill you at this point. However, I am restricted in the aid I can give until you have been cleared. I propose that you take a couple of potions, a small dose of Veritaserum and a short window of questioning time, and then immediately take the antidote and some more potions. Would you be agreeable to this plan?’
Sirius stared blankly at the ceiling for a while. ‘I don’t normally look at the ceiling,’ he mumbled, ‘It’s like the walls. It could crush you if you let it.’
‘Mr Black?’
‘Let’s do it.’