Work Text:
He heard the guard leave, after checking on him and immediately sat up, letting out a soft sigh. He shook his head slightly to release his curls. They all believed it. Finally. He had gone crazy. Well, not really, but they thought he had, and that was the main thing.
“He’s at Hogwarts…” he whispered to himself and smiled a little. The thought was comforting. The boy really was just like his father. He’d seen photos in the Daily Prophet they gave him of the boy and someone named Gilderoy Lockhart, who had apparently recently been admitted to an asylum, poor bloke. But Sirius never believed a thing that man said. He looked at the photo of his godson and tears welled up in his eyes. He’d failed James and Lily. If only he had kept the secret… no. No more torturing himself. It was time to escape and set things right.
Sirius stood up and dusted himself off. He took a look at his reflection in the moldy mirror which was very cracked and didn’t show much of his face. He reached for the hidden shard and raised it, cutting his hair so it was just above his shoulders. He would sort out his moustache when he got the chance.
Memories flashed, each one hurting more than the last. The Marauders eating lunch. The Marauders doing pranks. The Marauders helping James get Lily. The Marauders hurting Snape after he had hurt Lily. Snape almost dying… An ounce of regret in that. Lily and James’s fast wedding, due to the pregnancy. The baby boy. Being the secret keeper… Tears slid down his cheeks. It was all his fault. Running after Peter. Almost managing to kill him, but that slimy git turned into a rat at the last minute. The muggles thinking he was crazy. The rage. Trapped in Azkaban for twelve years, almost thirteen.
He bunched his hands into fists and looked out of the bars of the window. Now or never. He crept out of his cell using the dropped key, and kept quiet as he walked out of the cell, glad he wasn’t wearing his shoes. He walked into the storage room and searched the boxes until he found his wand. He grinned and turned it over in his hands. Still in mint condition. Shutting his eyes, he muttered the spell.
The pain was quick but refreshing. He looked down at himself and panted as he had his paws. He let out a howl and quickly trotted downstairs. The guards, luckily, thought he was just one of the guard dogs. He went outside, did a quick wee, and let the wind ruffle his fur before looking at the water that stood between him and freedom. Good thing he’d been working out all these years.
With a splash, he landed into the water, and he began swimming, using every muscle, every bit of energy he had, to get to the mainland and find his godson. He howled in happiness once he was far enough away the guards wouldn’t hear him, but close enough to hear the alarm go off as they realised he had escaped.
There really had been a method to all of his madness… and a reason he never told McGonagall he had an animagus.