A.K.A The most dementored song!fic you will ever read.

Ha ha I see what I did there... do you?

xXx

Well, I'm not JKR... so I guess I don't own Harry Potter. Darn!

xXx

"Oof!"

A whoosh of breath escaped Sirius as he was literally thrown into his cell. He remained on the floor as the guards walked away, shouting trivial abuse at the other prisoners. There was no use in pleading his innocence - he'd just get cursed again.

He shuddered, not sure whether it was from the warmth-leeching, unforgiving stone or the effects of the dementors. A harsh breeze blew through the barred window of his cell, bringing a stench of salt and poisoned waters. Sirius fell into a restless sleep, plagued by old nightmares.

oOo

"Mornin', Sunshine!"

A relatively cheery voice called out to Sirius from the cell next to him, and he jolted awake, breathing heavily. He gave a wince as phantom pain resounded through his back, courtesy of one of his 'teachings' from his father. Sirius blinked, eyelids coming down to obscure sky-blue eyes, before he moved over to the bars, not bothering to stand.

Through the rusted metal, a relatively young girl peered back at him shortsightedly, her pixie-cut hair in disarray but still rather clean. Her ill-fitting prison clothes - a dark grey jumpsuit gathered at the waist - hung off her almost skeletal body. However, despite her pale, dirtied skin and dulled features, her sapphire eyes shone brightly.

"Sunshine?" Sirius echoed. Words to a muggle song began floating through his head - you are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are grey... He glanced down the hall. There wasn't a dementor in sight.

"Well, you're the closest thing to it left in this hellhole," she replied, voice amused.

Sirius smirked. "It's my dashing good looks, I'm sure," he said, striking a pose.

The girl smiled and it seemed to resonate through the cells, bright as the sun. Then it faded and Sirius was left in the dark.

"They're coming," she whispered in horror, her voice a stark contrast to what it had been.

Sirius looked down the hall of cells, most of which were empty. Gliding towards them in a wall of darkness was a swarm? Hoard? of dementors, their rattling breaths echoing against the slimy stone.

The girl shuddered and fell to the ground, whatever joy that remained torn from her face. Sirius back peddled until he was pressed against the wet wall, the liquid seeping through his clothes.

Sirius clenched his hands, fingernails digging into his palms as he was taken back to a time where he did not yet have his masks to protect him from the world. When he actually cared about what his family thought about him and did to him. When he didn't have James, or Moony. That was when the screaming started.

oOo

The cries rent the relative silence, harsh sobs that tore through Sirius' soul and left him more numbed than he already was. The dementors had long left to feast off the other prisoners, leaving the two to recover somewhat. That was the monster's strategy. Leave them to recover, return, feast. Leave them to recover, return, feast. And so the cycle continued.

The girl took longer than Sirius to come back to herself. She took longer to get out of whatever nightmare she entered when the soul sucking demons returned. To stop screaming and shuddering and crying. Sirius didn't mind, as long as she did come back.

Whether that was a mark of her time spent in the prison, trapped between cold, wet stone and rusted bars, being pelted by harsh winds and sea-spray, or a description if the torment she had had to endure, Sirius didn't know. He just wanted the screaming to stop and the girl to return to the person he had first met.

oOo

After a year and a half, Sirius had become somewhat accustomed to life in Azkaban. It was a depressing idea, sure, but it didn't seem too bad. The girl in the cell beside didn't have a name- at least, that was what she had told Sirius.

"Call me Saff," she'd told him when he asked.

Funnily enough, when he heard this, Sirius didn't immediately think of sapphires. He though of saffron and remembered the time when he and James had eaten it on their meat for dinner and James had stood on the fable and demanded they had it every night. Every time Sirius came over they would have it for their first dinner, without fail.

Sirius had smiled at Saff, despite his inner pain at losing his best friend, and, for just a moment, she had smiled back. And, once again, it had seemed to light up the entire prison. But the dementors didn't come, not that time.

oOo

His third year in Azkaban, Sirius and Saff threw a party. Well, party was relative. They more had a competition to see how much slime they could scrape from the wall before the dementors came. Sirius had won but he didn't feel much like celebrating his victory.

It took longer than before for Saff to come back. Sirius, once he had recovered from the memory of the... punishment... he had received upon being sorted into Griffindor, crawled over to her cell and grabbed her hand, trying to rub some feeling into it.

Upon her awakening, Saff blinked those brilliant eyes at him and squeezed his hand back, as if to say, 'I'm OK'.

But the glaze across her sapphire eyes spoke differently.

oOo

A month later, it was Saff's birthday. But neither felt much like celebrating. Saff could no longer see and Sirius felt blind.

"It's not too bad, really," Saff had assured him, " I just miss seeing your face."

Sirius was sure he looked horrid - the lack of nutritious food hadn't exactly done wonders for his looks - but he smiled anyway, though the expression seemed more fake when Saff couldn't see it. They were talking through the metal bars, their faces in the gap between the metal rods.

"Thanks, luv," he'd told her, and she'd pulled a kissy face.

Acting in the moment, Sirius leant forward and pressed his lips to hers briefly. Her face could have lit up Hogwarts, he was sure, and for a moment her eyes seemed able to see.

But then she'd shuddered, her face going pale, and her unseeing eyes clamped shut. She'd reached blindly for his hands and he'd held her cold ones in between his, offering some menial comfort. Tears had started pouring down her face and her breathing grew laboured. Knife wounds appeared on her body, carving words and lines into her pale, fragile skin.

Sirius released her hands and ripped of the end of the arms of his jumpsuit, pressing the fabric to the wounds in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Saff slumped and a hoarse, rattling breath sounded from the hall. Sirius fell into the darkness, still trying to stop the blood. When he awoke, the blood remained, though it was as if the wounds had never existed.

oOo

Time started being measured in attacks. They came once a full moon rotation in the first year of them and once a week in the second, Sirius' fifth year in the wizard prison. Saff seemed to have no memory of them - in fact, had blood not be staining the girl's jumpsuit, Sirius would have thought himself imagining every ordeal. Unfortunately, it was not to be - it was very real and the thin scars, only visible in moonlight, that adorned Saff's skin spoke of that.

"So, why are you in here?" Saff asked him one day, when he was idly fiddling with her grimy fingers.

"My friend and his wife were betrayed and-" Sirius hesitated, and Saff squeezed his hand in encouragement. He took a deep breath, and continued, "and... killed. Their son, my godson, survived, but was taken away from me. I hunted the betrayer and found him but he blew up the street, as well as thirteen muggles. He cut off his finger and went into his animagus form and escaped. I was imprisoned for his crimes."

Sirius was breathing shakily, praying that the dementors would not come. Saff took a deep breath, and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"I was put under the imperius. I was forced to kill my whole family and torture my husband. They thought I did it of my own free will and Voldemort gave me the dark mark to solidify their belief. I was sent straight to Azkaban, without a trial, and was cursed as I left the holding cell by my husband's brother. The aim was to, ultimately, torture me to death."

The girl with the sapphire blue eyes, unable to be dulled even by blindness, spoke as if it happened to someone else. Sirius wished it had.

"My favourite tree's mahogany," Saff said suddenly, "I have a chest of drawers made of the wood at home. What's your favourite tree?" she asked with a smile.

"White oak," Sirius replied, remembering the tree in Remus' backyard.

The two shared a smile, though one was unaware of anything except the lips that pressed against hers briefly, soft as butterfly wings.

oOo

In the next few years, the attacks worsened from once a week to once every three days. But they began to leave their mark. Sirius' eighth year in Azkaban, Saff was covered in thin slices and carved words, the open wounds filled with grime from the stone walls and floor.

A particularly bad attack a year before had severed her tongue, so she was forced to talk in hums. But Sirius understood what she was saying anyway. Their hands now seemed to be constantly joined together, their fingers weaved in between the other's. But even that was no enough to keep the attacks, from spells and dementors alike, at bay.

oOo

It happened in the ninth year. There had been no attacks in weeks and Sirius was afraid. Saff was a mere shadow of the skeletal human she had been when they first met.

Her joints seemed to prominent, her fingers too long, her face too thin. Her originally pixie-cut hair fell as a dirty curtain to her waist, though it wasn't thick enough to hide her spine, the bones poking through her skin like dull knives. The dementors seemed excited about something.

The fateful day when the worst occurred, the dementors had been almost exuberant. They seemed to talk to each other through rattling breaths, so much like Saff's. The salty, misty wind had done nothing to ease her condition. The last few dementor attacks, she had taken longer and longer to return to herself. Sirius was afraid.

oOo

Sirius lay numb in his cell, his fingers still reaching through the bars to the cell beside. The girl with the sapphire eyes, the black pixie-cut hair and bloodstained jumpsuit that spoke in hums was gone. Lost in her mind, unable to return without the help of strong magic that no one was willing to provide. But Sirius was no longer afraid. He just longed for his sunshine.

oOo

"Do you mind if I have that? I do so miss the crossword."

The minister passed over the newspaper, dumbstruck. The prisoner gave a shirt nod before examining the image on the front cover.

"He's at Hogwarts..."

oOo

The ragged man sat on the ground, staring at the grimy stone. The sun was covered by a black cloud that seemed to mirror his feelings exactly. Bone-thin fingers reached out to trace the words etched on the tombstone, forever preserved in marble.

Here lies Saffyre White.

Daughter, wife, innocent.

"Mornin', Sunshine!"

The cloud moved away and the field of saffron was doused in sunlight as the figure moved away from the grave beneath the mahogany tree.

Sirius walked through the meadow, singing under his breath.

"You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine.

You make me happy,

When skies are grey.

You'll never know, dear,

How much I love you,

So please don't take my sunshine away..."