the_debt_of_time

things; not to mention the Unbreakable Vow that prevented Remus from saying almost
anything about Mia, and just as little in regards to Sirius—depending on the question and
who was asking.
He felt for the boy. Though he had not seen his own mother die, he had been in the
same building when it happened. On the other hand, Dorea had been like a second mother
to him, and he had watched her leave the world with her entire family gathered at her side.
Proudly, he had been considered a part of that family. But Dorea had passed peacefully in
her sleep. Lily had been murdered and, according to Harry, she died screaming.
Clenching his eyes tight, Remus tried to block out the vivid imagery that his
imagination was creating against his will.
"Why did they have to come to the match?" Harry asked bitterly.
"They're getting hungry. Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey
has dried up. I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that
excitement... emotions running high... it was their idea of a feast."
"Azkaban must be terrible," Harry muttered.
Remus nodded grimly. "The prison is on a small island, out on the North Sea, but they don't need
walls and water to keep the prisoners in—not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable
of a single cheerful thought. Dementors cause most of them to go mad within weeks."
"But Sirius Black escaped from them," Harry slowly said. "He got away."
Remus dropped his briefcase as Sirius's name fell from Harry's mouth. Our job, he thought to
himself. No, my job. My job to keep him safe. My job to keep them safe. Safe from Sirius.
"Yes. Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it was possible.
Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long."
It was that thought that stayed with Remus as he forced his way out of his chambers,
eager to head toward the kitchens to get something to eat. He had no tolerance for the
company of his fellow professors. It was Christmas, and he was not in the mood to deal
with Minerva's judgemental eyes or Snape's underhanded comments about flea baths and
housebreaking. It was bad enough that he now had to avoid Sybill Trelawney, who seemed
to be most eager to crystal gaze on his behalf. He had originally thought her to be mental,
recalling Mia's dislike of Divination. It did not help that Sybill smelled like cooking sherry
and incense, assaulting his overly sensitive nose. But when he had heard word that Harry