1994

Your office was widely quiet this time around. Most of the Azkaban prisoners were ex-death eaters, and not getting out anytime soon.

You've been doing this since you graduated from Hog warts. At first you thought of being one of the healers, specialized in memory recovery and altering, but interning for a year you decided to go for the slightly different department - Department of Post-Azkaban Rehabilitation and Reintegration or the Department of PARR as many preferred to call it.

It was a whole separate building from St. Mungo, the intention was to keep the unique patients away from the bustling halls of St.Mungo. The halls were painted soft green color; magical window that changed on what the person looking out found calming the most; various herbs and plants that stimulated calmness in those walking through the halls; light that was just barely enough to illuminate the halls and make the patients not have to squint from being too bright or too dull.

You were one of the Directors - there was largely no competition in this Department, as most preferred to stay healers or helping hands.

Department of PARR provided various different versions of healing - guided sessions using Pensieve to restore memories lost or locked away by the Dementors; re teaching of using the Patronus charm; potions and herbology recipes prescribed and guided meditation under the effects of certain more controlled ones; group therapies and discussions when several patients were looking to find someone who understands better than the healers; legilimency and occlumency counselling and training; at in most severe of cases provided a slow reintegration of Magical elements and wizarding society to patients that were classified as your most severe.

Albus Dumbledore walked into your office, in the middle of June, 1994 with a soft smile. He asked you of a simple favor, for some simple counselling and help to a certain potential patient - promising that you would be compensated in the process. There was only one catch: no one can know about him.

The building was quiet this time - hours after close - and no one was inside but you, waiting for Dumbledore's mysterious guest. The floating candles by your bookcases flickered as the clock's hand moved silently.

He doesn't knock on the door as he slowly steps into your office.

Sirius Black

Sirius was dressed in some nice robes - not at all what you imagined a boy who went against the Hog warts dress code to wear leather jackets.

He looks nothing like the troublemaker from his younger years of Hog warts, when you saw him last. This Sirius moved with caution, eyes looking around the office with quick precaution, a look you were all too familiar with after seeing it on so many patients' faces.