Silent Screams

Lost is a voice in a frenzy of screams

Unheard is the tale of its delicate dreams

Stifled it lives in veiled confines

Strange how its existence your mind slowly declines

Lulled into silence by constant denial

Surprising is the effect it has on your survival

A million arguments at point moot

The most meaningful one though remains mute

Evolve! Change! to keep up they say

Frayed psyche has become the order of the day

Acceptance of self is your only elixir

Don't let a day come when your mirror reflects a stranger

Opinions aplenty around you are scattered

That tiny muffled voice is the only that matters

When someone listens to your rant

Of your luck you're convinced

Yet blessed I believe

If they understood your silence

Relying forever on the crutches of others' assurance

Ever will you embrace your own intelligence

Contentment and peace shall surely gleam

Only if you could listen to your own silent screams

Padfoot's Perils

To the Harry Potter Cult ... this is what could have been...

He jolted out of his sleep. His ragged robes were drenched in cold sweat. He could remember his dreams all too clearly. The debris, the ruins. James! Lily! He ran a hand over the scraggly beard that grew on his once handsome face. The cold fury threatened to grip him again. The traitor was alive! Oh how he had felt seeing him in The Daily Prophet! How could he forget? Wormtail, the rat! The scum was alive and he was in Hogwarts. In Hogwarts, near Harry. His Godson!. And now, all he, Padfoot  could think was--he had to get out.

Only he knew the one truth that had cost his best friends their lives. He  had switched with Wormtail at the last moment and he would regret it for the rest of his life. He jerked back to reality as one of the deadly dementors outside twitched. He had to get out! He had been gearing up for it since many days now. He had tested the dementors by transforming into an animagus and venturing out bit by bit. He had found a way out of Azkaban by a stroke of pure luck. It was almost impossible but it was his only chance. The only thought that he was innocent had kept him sane in this frenzy of soul-sucking dementors. And now his thirst for revenge would get him out of here. Its now or never ,he thought .Being very thin now he managed to get through the bars and past the dementor at his highly guarded cell for he had transformed into a huge yet very lean dog. The dementors couldn't sense something that simple. He could smell the sea now as he went underground level by level in the old unused pipe-line. Then he heard it! Or rather felt it ....a cold hand gripping his heart. Twelve years  and yet, he couldn't get used to the cold, frozen feeling only a dementor could induce. He stopped short, holding his breath instantly. He cleared his mind of any thought, any memory of happiness. As if he had any left! .He could feel the dementor stop and sniff at the ventilator that opened into a narrow passage above. The dementor stooped low, sniffed around then after what felt like an eternity, moved away. He eased, took a breath and then started moving soundlessly again. The salty smell of the sea was getting stronger now. The pipe-line was also becoming narrower and fell steeply and water started seeping in from the walls here. The insides were lined with moss and were slippery. As he padded lower he felt his feet touch water. Here the pipeline  took a sharp left turn. He kept going on and on. Finally he reached the stone where he could feel the groove he had made with his paws. A few feet further the pipeline ended after taking a right bend. Now came the hardest part. He had to get past the dementor at the opening where the pipeline joined the sea. His best take was to keep left and glide along with the water that was now so high that he could only keep his face out of water. He took a deep breath and let the current carry him out. He came gushing out of the pipeline and was thrown away to the left by the force of the water. He started swimming in the water as soon as he came out of the pipe. His body was giving away but he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. He half expected to wake up in his cell any moment. He swam for as long as he could remember, mechanically. As he surfaced back onto the sea, he could see the dark fortress behind him with its creepy shadows. Ahead of him he could see the faint outline of the shore as the waves lashed at him. He could then hear voices of James, Lily, his own voice asking Hagrid to take his bike and he felt the despair of failure take over. No! It couldn't end like this! His mind screamed as he drifted away into blackness.

As he awoke, he could feel the salt on his mouth, the feeling of coarse sand on his paws. He wanted to get up but his body wouldn't cooperate. Then he saw, as the wind was howling in his ears...the fortress of Azkaban standing with its evil aura.....across the sea! He couldn't believe it. Freedom! He was free! Twelve years of waiting, twelve years of fury, the despair, the coldness. Finally, he was free. And now...Revenge!