Chapter 7 - Interlude: Sirius Orion Black
Something Something Something Disclaimer
Something Something Something Complete
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It had been weeks since he had a decent meal or a real warm bed, but the sun continued to shine overhead. As a dog, it was certainly easier to handle the rugged lifestyle, and the fact that it was much easier than time spent in his old cell certainly helped. Rising up from his short rest, he continued to trot through the woods along the highway, heading deeper into England's interior. It had certainly been an interesting journey up to this point, and given the circumstances of his little cross country jaunt, he found the pressure of his own thoughts weighing down on him more and more heavily as the days trudged on.
It didn't really start out as tense as this, even given the extraordinary circumstances of his escape. His time at Azkaban was... fragmented at best after the first year or two. Yes, spending time as a dog certainly helped keep the dementors off your metaphorical back, however it certainly didn't help with the mood of the place. He remembered flashes of the day he escaped, the minister with his ridiculous hat, the Daily Prophet, then
a blind rage, combined with the cold of the north Atlantic, and pain, a lot of pain. When he finally came to his senses, he found himself on the shores of the mainland, his mind slowly clearing from the nearly animalistic bloodlust from seeing the hated traitor. After shaking himself off, and finding a (un)fortunate meal in a few small animals in the woods off the coast, he began to take stock of his goals. Yes, ending the traitorous rat's life would certainly be near the top of his list, however, far more important than that, he need to see for himself that his godson, his pup, was safe enough for the time being. He struggled to recall where they might have taken Harry, to find any clue buried in his memories. Shaking his shaggy head, he decided that his first stop would have to be where everything happened, where everything went all wrong. Maybe, if he was there, he would remember something, anything that would point him in the right direction.
The few days after departing from the atlantic shore were an exercise for Sirius' already frazzled mind. Going from the atlantic coast to Godric's Hollow was a fairly perilous journey on its own, and between a fairly strong response from the Dementors (who he could easily evade) and the Auror corps (who were significantly more difficult to evade) he had to take a somewhat circuitous route to his destination, but it was at least fruitful, as while looking over the destroyed cottage of his former best friends, he was able to recall a potential lead; the fact that Lily's sister Petunia was one of the few potential places he may be able to visit easily meant that would be his first stop on the way towards Hogwarts and his personal vindication.
It took some doing, but he managed to sneak through Little Whinging without being seen, and slid along the outside of the Dursley home until he got to the rear window. Taking care not to be seen, he looked into the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of his Godson, but found none. In fact, moving from window to window, he couldn't find any sign that anyone other than the three dursleys lived in this home. He was about to give it up as a bad job, and proceed with his search elsewhere, when he, just barely, caught a whiff of something, his canine nose picking up things that no human or wizard would be able to smell. This was the smell that reminded him of James. This was the smell of family. Sniffing around, he found that the smell was surprisingly present around the garden, and in fact permeated the backyard more than the other smells. Following the smells to the shed in the back, he pawed open the latch, and took a surreptitious look inside, only to find that, though Harry did seem to spend time in there recently, there was nothing else noting his current location. His canine instincts telling him something was amiss, Sirius decided to confirm Harry's safety, but there was no way he could do that while the Dursleys were awake, he would just have to wait.
A couple of hours later, after the Dursleys had been sound asleep for some time, Sirius carefully slid towards the back of the house, transformed back to his natural form long enough to slide the door open, and then pushed it open as the Grim again, trusting his nose to better guide him. He padded gently through the house, at first concerned that he might wake the family, however the snores coming from both bedrooms told him all he needed to know about that. Sniffing around upstairs first, he found that a good portion of the scent was coming from the second bedroom on the right, with multiple locks and the cat flap in it. Sirius had to restrain a rather loud growl at that point, his rage growing at the implications, however he had better things to do with his time, so he carefully opened the door to check what was inside, only to find an empty room. No sign of Harry whatsoever remained in this room, if Harry did live there, he didn't do so anymore. Giving up on that room, Sirius went back downstairs, looking for any sign of his godson. What he found, was a smell much older, much more established. Following his nose around the corner, he found himself ending his search in front of the door to a small cupboard. Transforming back into a man, he reached out to the handle with shaking hand.
Not more than three minutes later, Vernon and Petunia Dursley were very well aware there was an intruder in their home.
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Sirius quickly scrambled through the backyards and patios of the neighborhood, making a break for the countryside while avoiding the sirens and lights of the police. He admitted to himself it was likely not the best way to find out what he needed to know, however his choice of actions was certainly effective. After finding what must have been Harry's former bedroom (given the cot and some rather broken toys) Sirius immediately decided discretion was no longer the best choice, and immediately pounded up the stairs and rather aggressively woke the elder dursleys. After a rather tense initial interrogation Sirius found himself rather confused. Harry's smell was all over this home, there was no mistaking it, however the Dursleys could legitimately not recall anything about the boy, or even the fact that he existed. Both furious and baffled, Sirius eventually ended up dragging Petunia down the stairs and threw her in front of the cupboard. He had barely just finished asking her why she would have a worn out old cot in a cupboard, when she gasped and began to tremble. What started as a slight shake quickly became almost a seizure, and her cries began to climb in intensity. Sirius, however, paid her condition no real mind, his own thoughts solely focused on his reason for being there in the first place. Grabbing her head with his hands, he steadied her, looked into her eyes and said simply, passionately-
"Where? Where! Where Is Harry?!"
For a moment, Petunia's eyes focused directly into his own. Through clenched teeth, and with an expression that appeared fearful, desperate, and almost apologetic, not that Sirius was aware of it, she ground out two words.
"M-mo-mount Ebott"
Before her eyes rolled back into her head and he collapsed. Sirius smiled in triumph, glad that he finally had his answer, and then had to duck and roll away from Vernon who had managed to find a cricket bat and came at the fugitive swinging. Changing back into padfoot, he wasted no time jumping out of the window and started heading away through the neighbors yards, finding himself quickly pursued by police forces, and not long after members of the ministry.
Sirius wasted no time after dodging the police and making it out of the neighborhood, making the trip towards Mt. Ebott as quickly as he was able as a dog. His entire mind was on the safety of his godson, but a small sliver of fear in his mind was beginning to grow. If the Dursleys had been under a strong enough geas to have that sort of effect on Petunia, whoever took him definitely didn't want to be found.. But why? Shaking that potential train of thought from his head, he looked up ahead of him, to see the shadow of the mountain hovering in the distance before him. Just a little longer, he thought. He should make it to the mountain by nightfall.
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It indeed was a few moments after nightfall when he arrived, panting, at the base of the mountain. Stopping for just a moment to grab a quick drink from the nearby stream, the grim set to work. It was fortunate for the animagus that Mt. Ebott was generally not a well trafficked site, as the ground was relatively undisturbed. Even with that, it took his nose quite some time to pick up on the smell of his godson, but once he had found the trail, he latched onto it as only a dog can. Running down trails and through grass, steadily climbing up the mountain, heedless of his own condition as he traipsed through dangerous and sharp underbrush, Sirius continued to climb the mountain. As the moon rose full overhead, Sirius broke through the underbrush, sprinting forward barely registering what was in front of him. Fortunately, he was aware enough to skid to a halt just before disaster struck, digging in with his claws just on the edge of a great chasm. For a moment, he just sat there, panting desperately, muscles twitching and sore from hours and hours of running, his mind focused on only one goal: finding Harry.
After recovering his breath, the animagus started sniffing the air, trying to find where the scent moved to. He returned for a moment to the edge of the underbrush, retracing the scent, from a small out of the way grass path, to a cluster of logs along a flat portion of the hill. There! He found where they stopped, must have set down their things, the dust on the hill was disturbed, then further off to the side, more disturbed dust, this time more of it. The Grim's nostrils flared, there was a struggle. He could smell his godson, the smell of... wood? His eyes could see a few pieces of shattered trunk, gathering dust still off to the side. He could smell the remains of acrid smoke, not of wood, but of... something else. Whoever was here must have burned his things, destroyed his trunk. And he could smell blood, far, far too much blood. The light of the full moon was enough even for the Grim to find and trace it. Harry must have been horribly injured. He followed the trail faster, working more off instinct than sense, tracking along the ground. The Dursley's must have dragged him along, moving him up to-
...
...
...
He stopped, frozen, his front paws a mere inch from the edge of the chasm, his nose, following the trail of blood, hung over the precipice, and his eyes, piercing the darkness of the maw below, seeing nothing in that moment but darkness, and his own failure. His failure as a friend, his failure as a godfather. His failure as a member of the family he had sworn to protect when that family protected him from his own, from himself. He saw nothing in that abyss but despair.
For a moment, as if in anticipation of a forthcoming storm, everything on the mountain was silence. Then, building from a low moan, a high pitched, tortured howl split the sky. The haunted cry echoed up from the night, scattering birds from the trees, causing smaller animals to shudder in fear and sink further into their burrows for the night. The echoing cry from the mountaintop caused a chain reaction that a few hikers and campers decided it would be prudent to end their trips a bit early. It even caused a stir in a few local news outlets, when the cry was picked up by local dogs, causing a ripple of answering howls to break out that spread out from the mountain to towns as far as a hundred kilometers away.
Sirius howled in pain and despair for as long as he was able, until, after a time, he could cry no more, and collapsed to the ground along the edge of the chasm, whimpering, until, after a time, he simply slept.
In the early hours of the next morning, a black grim rose from an uneasy slumber, shook the morning dew from it's coat, and yawned. Turning its nose into the wind, it caught a whiff of what would soon become it's breakfast, and trotted off into the woods around the mountain.
And remaining there at the edge of the chasm, the spirit of the man that was, the dust of a tortured soul, hovered in the air for a moment as if in remembrance, then dissipated into the ether, as the first rays of the morning sun cast away the haze on the mountaintop. Sirius Black, friend, traitor, brother, trickster, godfather... was no more.
The sun continued to rise.
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Home is behind, the world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow to the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight
Mist and shadow, Cloud and shade
All shall fade, All shall fade
From: A Walking Song/The Edge of Night - JRR Tolkien
AN: Sorry guys. Onions and all that.
Last chapter of part 1 is well under way, and the we will be officially done with the underground. You should also expect forthcoming chapters soon about some of the other folks we may have missed hearing about so far.
Writing seems to now be on a regular schedule, so expect updates either Sunday evenings or Monday mornings going forward. As always, thanks for reading, and for all your awesome comments!