Escape
by sangkar


With a wild, savage yell of anger, he threw the newspaper at the wall of the stupid cell. The bloody coward, the ruddy traitor, was at Hogwarts, with Harry, probably plotting to kill him and -

Calm down, Sirius, calm down, a minute, impossibly small voice of reason in him implored. But he was separate from that voice. He was angry.

He hadn't lost control like this in a long time - possibly never. But the rage that was pulsing through his veins was a throbbing, aching anger, not like anything he'd ever experienced before. Not even on the night Lily and James had died, he hadn't been this angry. He was angry at Peter. Angry at the Ministry for failing to see the truth. Angry at Dumbledore for testifying against him, helping them bring him to this place. Angry at, mostly, himself. For the godfather he never was. For not finishing Peter off when he could. Now, however, there was a chance. If he could just break out -

The Dementors seemed to be sensing something - his emotions were running high and emotions were what they used to find humans. Sirius saw a black, withered hand appear, soon followed by the whole slimy thing.

With some reluctance, he tried to control his fury. It ebbed away, leaving him in a state of steely determination.

He closed his eyes and tried to listened to the bit of him that was screaming for him to escape then and there, the opposite of the part that wanted him to keep calm. The one which wanted him to get away. To leave this hell of a place. No, it would have to wait until feeding time; he knew where Peter would be by the end of summer, so he could go any time he wanted and Peter would still be at the same place, wouldn't he? To see him dead for his crimes. To see himself, Sirius Black, taking revenge for those years spent in Azkaban. Avenging James' death. But that wasn't worth throwing newspapers at walls for - not yet, anyway.

And so he picked up the newspaper to pass time. The picture of the Weasleys was incredibly out-of-place in the prison; their happy, sun-kissed faces did not blend in all too with the constant air of dark gloom in Sirius' cell.

He studied the photograph more closely. Peter was perched on the youngest boy's - Ronald's - shoulder, his sniveling, pathetic demeanor obvious even in the photo - or was that just because of what Sirius knew about him?

He let his eyes wander to the rest of the picture, trying to ignore the rat. Arthur and Molly had had another kid, it seemed, and this time it was a girl. She had long red hair like the rest of them, grinning so hard Sirius ground his teeth in annoyance. Scowling, he looked down at the smiling faces of the rest of the family. What he would give to be out there with them...

He would have to get out of here, and fast. The longer he lets Peter go free, the more time he wastes away, and Peter could be making contact with Voldemort at any time - he didn't know. Sirius reached a decision quickly.

He was going to escape. And it would be tonight.


author's note: Please don't favourite without reviewing.
edit as of the first of March, 2013: This doesn't suck as much as my other stuff so I'll let it survive with a couple of edits. ;)