Chapter Text
Padfoot was stronger than the human, at least against Dementors. They didn’t seem to notice he existed.
Animals were just too simple… too primitive it seemed.
Dirty and very hungry, Padfoot curled up and looked upon the human’s memories. In his mind’s eye, images of his friends appeared.
And then, they shattered as the realization hit him.
They were all gone. Peter had committed suicide after betraying Lily and James… and Remus…
Did Remus believe he was guilty? Even if he didn’t, a werewolf couldn’t get him out of Azkaban. And he’d probably never forgive Padfoot for thinking he was the spy…
Padfoot didn’t even flinch when thunder cracked outside. Just another one of the sounds of Azkaban.
The dementors didn’t even care if he was guilty.
How long had he been there?
Was that Bellatrix screaming down the hall?
Footsteps.... He transformed back in a human.
Fudge was the minister? What had the magical world come to?
The date… 1993? That photo… Arthur and Molly Weasley… their children and… a rat. Sirius asked to keep the newspaper.
It was him. “He’s at Hogwarts.” He repeated to himself over and over again.
That night, he was gone, walking out of the prison in dog form, diving into the stormy waves below. It took him three days to make it to the shore. He washed up on a beach somewhere.
Some kind Muggles found him and fed him, let him sleep on the porch. Padfoot left before they became too attached to him.
He knew what he needed to do, but there was someone he wanted to see first.
It seemed Remus hadn’t told anyone about Sirius being an Animagus. If he had, there would be Aurors cornering him already.
It took him ages to find the place, where those wretched Muggles were living.
Padfoot hated walking through Muggle neighborhoods at night. There were so many lights on you couldn’t see the stars. Why were Muggles afraid of the dark?
His ears perked up at the sound of a woman screaming. It sounded like it was coming from above. He looked up to see a large, round woman flying through the air.
Now that was something you didn’t see everyday, even in the magical world.
The sound of footsteps, a familiar smell - owl? A wizard was approaching. Padfoot backed into the shadows.
There, a skinny boy about thirteen years old, dragging his trunk and empty owl cage. He sat down and seemed to be contemplating.
Padfoot took a few steps forward. The boy noticed him and he got a good look at his face - oh, it really was him. He barked happily.
Oops. That made the boy fall over and - Knight Bus. Too many wizards. Padfoot bounded away into the darkness, glad to have had one look at Harry Potter.