Chapter Text
The moment Buckbeak took flight from the astronomy tower, Sirius Black's heart beat with such a ferocious joy he thought he might die before the night was over. It had been 13 years since the wind whipped his hair like this. It had been 13 years since his skin chaffed against the blisteringly cold air. It had been 13 years since his feet had been suspended miles above the ground and his heart had plummeted to his stomach with the wild danger-joy of being far from safety.
It had been more than 13 years since Sirius Black felt anything other than terror, sadness, regret, and loss. This night had ripped him open at the seams until his emotions were spilling all over the place. Joy, sadness, rage, love-- all these feelings warred with each other as the hippogriff glided through the night air. At times the beast was intent on shooting straight for the full moon, then suddenly it would dip so low they would skim the land. They left Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and the shimmering lights of cities behind until the night stretched on endless, black, and full of possibilities. Wispy white clouds kissed his skin. The country emerged below him in hazy patches of forests, the deep impressions of farmland, the mirror pools of water systems.
Sirius didn't mind where the hippogriff took him. He was free! Free! And the feeling bubbled in his stomach until he was laughing like a mad man. He must have startled the hippogriff, because Buckbeak swung out in a large open circle and made lazy loops until they plummeted toward the ground. It headed straight for a large body of water. Sirius felt he was going to crash and grabbed a fistful of the hippogriff's feathers, but at the last possible moment the bird reared up. Sirius was left suspended over the lake. His toes dipped into the water just enough that Sirius felt the chill of it in his bones.
All Sirius could do was breathe.
He breathed in the cool night air full of the sweet smell of greenery, the silvery scent of running water, the dull earthy scent of free roaming animals. He looked around at the shimmering white stars and full moon. He looked down at the tired, pinched, lined face staring owl eyed back at him from the water.
What was freedom?
When Sirius was young freedom was the pounding beat of a punk band slamming into his skull until he forgot his mother's cruelty and his father's indifference. When he got older freedom was not a guarantee but something that was being threatened and had to be fought for. Azkaban had blown all this away. There, in that rotting black pit of despair, freedom had been those precious moments when the Dementors left him alone and the moon was high and for just a moment the air was able to cool the sweat on Sirius' skin. Freedom was when he could eat a meal without a rat getting to it first. In Azkaban, freedom was when Sirius could curl deep into sleep and be carried away into dreams of love, friendship, and youth.
What was freedom to Sirius Black now?
It was this crystal-clear body of water stretching on as far as the eye could see and his own reflection dotted with stars opposed to nightmares. Sirius leaned forward into the downy feathers of Buckbeak's warm body and wept. They were the tears of a broken mind that was mourning, raging, and rejoicing all at once. The wheels of his life were no longer stuck. He was far from prison. He was free. Sirius cried hard and noisily, allowing himself this quiet moment to feel all the confusion that confinement had turned to madness. He had a feeling he would never get this chance again to be so wild and mad. Harry would need him to be a lot of things soon. This war had never ended, it had simply switched gears. For now, Sirius screamed and cried until he was exhausted. It had been a long journey to find his godson. Sirius needed rest. Buckbeak had been quite silent and steady during the whole thing. Sirius respected him for it.
"Thanks, mate. I needed that." Sirius told the hippogriff. He patted Buckbeak's side. "Wherever you want to go, I'll follow you there."
Buckbeak liked the sound of that. He gave a piercing cry. His great grey wings pulled in a rush of heavy air as he took flight once again, plunging Sirius into the great wild.
The hippogriff found a cave. It was sometime in the late night/early morning where nothing innocent was awake and all the predators were glowing eyes in shadowy corners. Buckbeak grew tired of flying and was walking quietly in the forest, strutting nobly as if werewolves and bears did not scare him. Everything scared Sirius. Every snapping branch and twittering animal. Every shadow that twitched in the breeze. Every memory that crossed his mind too suddenly for him to stop it. He was a mess of nerves, imagining Aurors and the Ministry Apparating suddenly in front of him. He was so far from Azkaban, but he could be back there with one false move.
Sirius needed a plan.
Sirius needed sleep.
Sirius had no home. No family. No friends. In Azkaban he was a prisoner. What was he here in the outside world? A man? He felt far from one. A dog? He could live out the rest of his life as a dog and be quite content, but he would be no good for Harry and Remus.
Harry and Remus. Sirius’ mind latched onto those three words. Harry and Remus. Harry and Remus. Harry and Remus. His heart beat with those names. He came alive, like a spark that had been covered. Sirius patted Buckbeak’s side. “Let me down, friend. I need to brood and think.” Buckbeak knelt gracefully in the foliage of the forest floor, allowing Sirius to slide off his back. “Go find some food and drink some water. I need to make a plan.”
Sirius had always been of the mind that animals were far more intelligent than humans. They understood on a natural level how the world should work. Life and death. Relationships. Family. The natural course of things. Maybe Buckbeak did not understand his words, but he understood that Sirius was just like him—running and looking for a new self. Buckbeak disappeared into the shadows, but not far enough away that Sirius could not hear the sudden snap of his beak as he caught some small animal. Sirius wandered in the dark, stretching out his aching limbs, testing out his legs. He couldn’t remember the last meal he had that wasn’t a small animal he caught as a crazy black dog. It had been 13 years since he took a real bath. Thirteen years since he combed his hair or wore real clothes. Tonight, he had met his godson looking like a wraith from a nightmare.
Yet…
“Of course, I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?”
Harry was not scared of him after he learned the truth. Quite the opposite. Sirius had seen pieces of Harry’s baby memories clicking into place. He saw an old hope once buried return. Harry wanted him even if he was rail thin, filthy, and mad. Sirius barked a laugh that was so sudden and loud owls took flight. He slapped a hand over his mouth but couldn’t stop laughing. Harry wanted him Harry wanted him Harry wanted him! What more could he ask for? That was who he was. Harry’s godfather. Harry’s protector. The family Harry never got to know.
And Remus. Remus-motherfucking-Lupin. Remus had hugged him with such a fierceness that Sirius remembered what it was to feel safe. Remus believed him when he said he hadn’t killed Lily and James. Remus had promised to help him clear his name. Remus was next to him again. Sirius had dreamed of Remus in Azkaban. Of his golden hair with its many odd highlights. Of that wry little smile of his. Of how sure his hands always were when they clasped Sirius’ or shoved his shoulders or held a book. What had Remus been to him back in days before the Dementors took away his happiness? What was Remus now that they were the only two Marauders left?
Sirius’ mind was racing and running wild. He had Remus and Harry again. He was free. Now Sirius had plans to make before the war properly started and Sirius’ family was back on the front lines.