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Sirius Black, the supposed murderer, and Remus Lupin, the supposed werewolf, had been dating in secret throughout most of their Hogwarts years. Their relationship had taken a back seat during the war - they had both agreed that they should focus on the safety of the Wizarding world, along with the safety of James and Lily, whom the Dark Lord had taken an interest in.
Some good their focus had done.
Remus had lost practically everything to the war. His two best friends, Wormtail (though he was less devastated about his death than James and Lily’s), and his boyfriend. Even Harry, whom he shared godfather status with Sirius over, had been whisked away by Dumbledore to Merlin-knows-where.
And yet Remus remained, as always, in his little ramshackle cottage in the woods. A lone monster with nothing to live for.
Sirius hadn’t killed Wormtail, that much he knew, and he most certainly wasn’t a Death Eater. The Wizarding world was so desperate for someone to blame, though, and Sirius, being part of the Black family, was such an easy scapegoat.
Remus knew what it felt like to be seen as a monster by his peers. Sirius did, too, although in a less literal sense. But Remus had never been placed in Azkaban for a crime he didn’t commit.
A few weeks later, it became clear to Remus that his and Sirius’ relationship hadn’t exactly been a secret. He thought they had been fairly discreet, but the sheer amount of letters flooding his doorstep, from sympathisers and accusers both, clearly said otherwise.
‘So sorry to hear the news, wishing you the best,’ said one. ‘Everyone knows you’re going to follow in your treacherous boyfriend’s footsteps,’ said another. Judging by the sheer amount of envelopes on his welcome mat, everyone in the Wizarding World had an opinion on their relationship.
-
It had been nearly three months and the numbness in Remus’ heart hadn’t lessened in the slightest. Every full moon he was waking up with more and more scars. The neighbours - who, for the most part, were aware of his condition - sent him letters inquiring about his condition, saying he sounded like he was in immense pain. One of them even sent him cookies.
He couldn’t keep living like this, an empty shell of a man, everything he cared about stripped away. But he couldn’t kill himself either. He had heard from the grapevine that Dumbledore had left Harry with Lily’s sister and her family - A muggle household with less-than-tolerant views of magic. From what Lily had told him of how Petunia treated her when she returned home for the summer, Remus gathered that Harry would likely suffer neglect, if not full blown physical abuse, from his aunt and uncle. He needed to be there to fight on his behalf if things escalated and his life was endangered. While Dumbledore generally had the Wizarding world’s best interests at heart, he was far more of a ‘big picture’ sort of man, oftentimes putting the interests of the individual second to the greater good. His judgement was, more often than not, rather clouded - Remus and Sirius had a theory that the old man had begun to go senile.
Speaking of Sirius - Remus had seen neither hide nor hair of the man for three months. That was just about the longest they had been apart since their third year. No one escaped Azkaban, Remus knew that, but he couldn’t help but hope that Sirius would be different, that he would be the exception, or that, by some miracle, the Ministry would see the error of their ways and offer him justice.
After the third month had officially passed, the Ministry agents watching Remus’ house finally took their leave. The only reason he knew they were there was because of the extensive security system Sirius had set up for him. Activated, it rivalled the Black Estate itself. Remus chose to keep it down after the war - for the most part, at least. It still alerted him of any trespassers and discreetly led them away from the property.
The Ministry agents were, unfortunately, aware of the precautions, and were able to bypass them to monitor Remus. He wasn't quite sure why they had left. Perhaps they had gathered that he was far too frail and heartbroken to pose a threat even if he wanted to.
Given his newfound freedom, Remus considered paying Sirius a visit in Azkaban. How he would do that, he had no idea, but Sirius had literally shapeshifted to keep him company during his transformations. If his boyfriend could learn an advanced transfiguration technique in his first year, surely Remus, now 22, could figure out a way to pay him a conjugal visit.
-
It was surprisingly easy for Remus to figure out how to transform into an animal form. All those years of transformations forced upon him had been good for something after all, he thought somewhat bitterly.
He briefly considered choosing a dog as his transformation of choice, but decided against it, given his condition. It was the easiest form for him to take, but he would rather spend as little time as possible in canine form.
After around a week of experimentation and pondering, Remus settled on a sleek, black cat, vaguely resembling McGonagall’s animagus form in stature. He had always liked cats. As a child, he even wanted to be one - cats did far less damage to the furniture than werewolves, after all. He supposed he may as well grant little-Remus his wish.
He chose the colour partly to more easily blend in with the dilapidated prison walls, and partly to match his boyfriend’s form when they finally met.
Remus sat in front of the slightly rusted metal bars, his hackles raised. Was he really going to do this? Break into the most heavily guarded prison in the Wizarding World?
He thought of Sirius - perpetually messy-haired Sirius with that charming grin and tired eyes - and how he risked expulsion to be with Remus in his time of need.
Yes. Yes he was going to break into Azkaban. Sirius would do the same - and far more - for him.
-
The ‘breaking in’ bit of his plan had gone far more smoothly than Remus had anticipated. For such a heavily guarded place, the security was incredibly easy to breach.
Actually finding Sirius, though.. That was where he struggled.
He had checked hundreds of cells by now, making sure to observe the inmates carefully, but he hadn’t seen anyone that even remotely resembled Sirius.
He kept in mind that Sirius likely didn't look the same as before, given the status of the other inmates.
Their eyes were sunken in, hair unruly, teeth yellowed, and fingernails bitten to the quick. They looked tortured - which, Remus supposed, they were. If the tales of dementors that were passed around the Gryffindor common room after hours were to be believed, at least. Remus hadn’t encountered any dark, hooded creatures thus far, but he knew better than to let his guard down. He had read that they didn’t go after animals, but the books said nothing about animagi.
Although he didn't want to picture his boyfriend in such a sorry state, he knew it was more likely than not that he had succumbed to the pressures of prison.
Remus had long given up on thinking he was the exception.
He had been wandering the halls for hours at this point and still had seen no trace of Sirius. As much as he didn't want to entertain the thought, he decided to check the high-security branch of the prison.
Sirius had been known as quite the troublemaker, after all. Perhaps they wanted to ensure he didn't escape.
Remus recognised an uncomfortable amount of faces in the branch. Some of them he knew from battles and skirmishes, some from the newspapers. Some he recognised as killers of those he held dear. Bellatrix Lestrange, in particular, had practically killed the Longbottoms - If not in body, then in spirit.
She was part of the Black family, so maybe he was getting closer. He wouldn't put it past Azkaban to incorporate Sirius' cousin in his punishment.
He peered into her cell. She was gingerly tracing the wall with a finger, a dazed grin on her face. She was mumbling something incomprehensible - Remus thought he heard something about the Dark Lord.
A loud scream echoed through the prison. Remus jumped, the hairs on his back standing up. He peered warily down the hall. His slitted eyes widened. Dementors.
Remus rounded a corner, his heart beating out of his chest. Thoughts ran through his head as he sprinted through the prison - had he been caught? Were they going to take his soul? And where the bloody hell was Sirius?
“Hey, kitty,” a familiar voice rasped. Remus screeched to a halt. He knew that voice. He loved that voice.
“Sirius?” He meowed, mentally facepalming when he remembered that cats couldn’t speak.
“C’mere, kitty cat,” the voice rumbled. “The big bad cloaked guys are coming soon. They don’t like it when animals wander into here. I should know.”
Remus followed the voice, hopeful that it was who he thought it was and not a trap laid out to catch intruders. Even if it was a trap, he wouldn’t be upset if the last thing he heard before he died was his boyfriend’s voice.
The voice led him to a cell. He drew a breath, mentally preparing himself for disappointment. He had learned not to get his hopes too high. Even so, he couldn’t stop the excitement welling in his chest. Was he finally going to see his lover?
A man with perpetually messy-hair with a charming grin and tired eyes was sitting cross-legged in the corner of the cell.
“There you are,” he greeted in a whisper. “Was beginning to think you’d scampered away. C’mon, now, hide behind me. The bad guys are coming with food. Don’t worry, little guy, I’ll give you some of mine.”
Remus slipped through the bars and settled in the small of Sirius’ back. He revelled in his warmth. He had found him. His lover. The light of his life. There was so much he wanted to say to him, to confess to him, and he wished so desperately that they were anywhere but Azkaban because he just wanted to wrap him in his arms and never let go.
The dementors neared. The door of the cell creaked open. A bone-chilling numbness washed over Remus and, for a second, he felt like his life was meaningless and the world was filled with suffering and that everything good he had ever experienced was a lie, it had to be, because he had been here his whole life, and he didn’t know anything outside of it.
Then, as soon as the feeling had come, it went away, leaving Remus a quivering mess.
“I know - aren’t the friendliest guys around, are they?” Sirius quipped. Remus squirmed out from behind him and stared into his deep brown eyes. He looked so sad, so heartbroken, so miserable. Remus was sure that, whatever he had been through just then, Sirius had experienced tenfold.
“I’m so sorry,” he mewled, though he knew full well it would fall on deaf ears.
“Gimme a second - Here,” Sirius divided the meager meal in front of him into two equal portions, placing Remus’ half on the stone floor. “This is for you. Don’t worry about me, I don’t usually finish my food anyways.”
Given the pile of barely-edible mush in front of him, Remus understood why. He sniffed the food tentatively before taking a bite. He almost immediately spat it out. It tasted like sawdust mixed with unseasoned, overcooked ground beef - which, looking at it, it may have very well been.
Sirius laughed weakly. “Not exactly gourmet, is it? Merlin forbid they serve us something edible.” His expression hardened. “I’d eat up though, buddy. It’ll take quite a bit of energy to get out of here.”
That made sense - it took quite a lot of energy to get into here, after all. Remus reluctantly ate the meal, trying his best not to think about what exactly it was that he was putting in his body.
“There ya go,” Sirius said encouragingly after Remus had taken his last bite. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”
“Yes it was,” Remus mewled.
“Give me a moment, I know a trick that just might let me understand you.” Remus watched as Sirius placed a hand on his temple. His eyebrows furrowed as a vein bulged out from his forehead. His body slowly began to morph into that of a big, black dog - one that Remus was all too familiar with from nights spent in the whomping willow alone with him.
“Can you understand me?” Sirius barked and, to Remus’ surprise, he could.
“Crystal clear,” he replied.
Sirius’ eyes widened - the same big, brown eyes that Remus had fallen in love with. “Remus?” He croaked in disbelief.
“In the flesh - or rather fur,” Remus breathed. “It’s good to see you.”
“My love, you broke into Azkaban for me? I’m flattered.” Though he tried to put on a brave face, Remus knew him too well to see past the sheer amount of emotion in his voice.
“I would do anything for you, Sirius,” he replied.
“What now?” Sirius asked, ears drooping. “The Wizarding world thinks I’m a murderer - due in part to that stupid, treacherous Wormtail, and to think we let him tag along with us for all those years..”
“Wormtail framed you?” Remus asked, brow furrowing. Thinking about it, it did make sense - Wormtail seemed like the type of person to be a double-agent. He had also always been more concerned about his own safety than others.
“Like the fucking rat he is,” Sirius snarled.
“Well, I’m not sure what we do now, but I do know one thing - I’m not leaving you to rot in this place.”
“Good, because I have no intention of rotting in this place,” Sirius said, a mischievous smile in his voice. “Would you like to break out of the world’s most heavily guarded prison with me, my love?”
“I would love to.”