It was another long day. A bitter horrible, miserable, unbearable day. But that was how every day for Sirius. He didn't deserve this. He did nothing but trust the wrong person. But everyone did that. Maybe he did deserve Azkaban. He deserved every drop of misery that the dementors inflicted. They took all of his guilt and expanded it to unnatural portions. How could he? James, Lily. Dead because he thought wrong. Now he was here, they were dead and the traitor walked free.

A slight commotion distracted Sirius from his ever spiraling downward thoughts. There was someone speaking very loudly and cheerfully. Cheer? Sirius had to be mistaken. He shook his head. Cheer didn't exist in Azkaban. Then the voice came again and this time, it was unmistakably morbid cheeriness.

"Now don't be so rough. I'm just a kid. Many years to live you know? So handle with care is written all over me ok? I don't want to be damaged."

Two Ministry wizards appeared with a boy in between them. The boy was very usual as boys go. Brown hair, light brown eyes, fair skin, not yet at puberty. Fourteen. That was young. A fourteen year old in Azkaban. What did he do? The wizards tossed him in the cell across from Sirius.

"Ow! What did I just tell you about fragile?" The boy complained.

One of the wizards retorted, "A day in here and you won't be so worried about 'fragile.'"

The Ministry wizards walked away. The boy leaned up against a wall and seemed to be muttering something under his breath.

Then he cleared his throat and asked Sirius, "How has your day been?"

Sirius waited a moment trying to decide if this boy was totally insane. Surely the boy had to feel the dementors.

He finally replied, "Lousy. But that's not new. It's been lousy for. . ." Sirius paused trying to remember exactly how long it had been, then said lamely, "a long time."

The boy nodded several times, then he said, "Ten years. You've been in Azkaban a little short of ten years, Sirius Black."

"Oh, so you know who I am." Sirius said glumly, knowing that the boy wouldn't continue speaking with a legendary criminal. Instead, he was in for a surprise.

"Nope. I don't know you. I know your name and the actions attributed to you, but I don't know you. I don't know anyone. Because no one knows me. If no one knows who I am deep inside then how can I truly know someone else? Knowing someone is just an illusion."

Sirius blinked, his dark and depressed mind not quite following this logic. He was quiet for a moment trying to work it out, then the dementors' power pushed it down with the image of James's destroyed house, his house and the lives that were in it, lives that Sirius could have protected.

Finally, Sirius said, "I've never seen anyone in here who is so young. What's your name? And why were you sentenced to Azkaban?"

The boy smiled mischievously, "Oh, me? I'm Jeremiah, Jeremiah Raphael. I have a two month sentence. After all, I need to get my letter to go back to Hogwarts for my fifth year. Can't prevent a kid from getting his education."

"Raphael." Sirius rolled over the name on his tongue, trying to recall where he had heard that name, "A pure blood family?"

The boy pointed and jerked his hands like muggle guns, "Bingo, Black. But not surprising since you're from a pure blood family yourself. Although, I don't think I'm closely related to you."

Sirius frowned. Where did that boy find so much enthusiasm and cheerfulness?

Sirius asked, "Why would the Ministry send a pure blood kid to Azkaban?"

"Why'd they send you to Azkaban for life without a trial?"

That hurt. Before Black could tell Jeremiah the truth or at least an excuse, the boy was already talking.

"Who knows? Nobody. They want to punish us for something they consider wrong. Why such a dreary place like Azkaban or why that amount of time or better yet why they consider our actions wrong are all good questions that have morally complex answers that only mean something to the people would made those decisions."

This explanation left Sirius with a large headache and no answer. But once again the boy was talking before Sirius could ask for clarification.

"Specifically, the action that the Ministry did not like me performing is certain magic they considered to be 'not good for any age let alone for someone as young as myself.' They would have simply sent me to a correctional facility if I hadn't blatantly insulted and disrespected everyone at my trial. I seem to have issues with authority."

Then the boy was quiet for a long moment. Sirius found a scrap of gratitude in his soul for this act. The silence allowed his brain to catch up. The boy had been performing 'not good' magic. Did that mean Dark Magic? Sirius wasn't sure. What drove him up the wall was the fact that this boy didn't seem to notice the dementors' presence whatsoever. In fact, the boy seemed to take his imprisonment as a total joke.

"So, in your opinion, what act did you do that the Ministry took offense to?" Jeremiah asked.

Sirius replied, "Nothing, I'm innocent."

"Really?"

Sirius couldn't tell if the boy was being sarcastic or was really fascinated. He couldn't read this boy's thoughts or emotions at all. But he continued as if this Jeremiah actually cared. He wanted the story out there. It didn't matter that it wouldn't change a detail. Wouldn't change his sentence. But someone else would know. One other person in the world would believe his innocence that burned like a furnace in his own soul.

"You've probably heard that I was Voldemort's closest follower. His most loyal and that I betrayed my friends to him and when Pettigrew tried to get justice I blasted him and twelve muggles to death. But it's not true. I didn't betray James and Lily. I loved them. He was my best friend . . . We trusted Pettigrew. That was our mistake. He betrayed us. He turned James and Lily over to Voldemort. I went after him. Once I cornered the coward, he blasted himself and everything to bits. I can't believe he committed suicide. I thought he didn't have the nerve. But then again, I didn't think he would betray us."

Sirius shook his hands to return feeling to them. He had been clenching them so hard they had gone numb. He had to fight to say every word calmly and sensibly. But he had gotten through and now the dementors' misery was in his soul.

The boy stared at him nodding for a while seeming to consider this confession.

"Like I said, does anyone really know who another person is?" Jeremiah said smugly. "You thought Pettigrew was one thing when he was really a different thing. No one truly knows another person."

Sirius stared at the boy. Just a boy, but so calm, so unlike some adults who came in sobbing. They could feel the horror of this place, and dread would fill then as they knew how long they would stay. But this boy. So abnormally relaxed as if he were in a resort or at home.

"Do you have something messed up in your head or do you even sense the dementors?" Sirius asked.

Jeremiah grinned wider than Sirius thought possible. The smile made the boy appear demented, unrealistic.

"Oh, I just come prepared is all."

No matter how many times Sirius asked, no matter how many different ways he asked and no matter who he asked, he never learned anything more about the boy named Jeremiah. In one week, the boy was moved to a different part of the prison. The few wizarding guards that acted as overseers must have believed it not wise to leave to rather sane individuals together. In all honesty, Sirius never saw Jeremiah again although he heard his name over a year later in response to a question he asked. And for years after that, Sirius would repeat Jeremiah's name over and over again, and would forever wonder: why?

That's the first chapter, I hope you enjoy!