Chapter Twenty

The Prisoner of Azkaban

Alex's parents just about fainted at the sight of the hulking black dog snoozing by feet. After a hasty explanation filled with sympathy pleas, they reluctantly allowed her to keep it – until she returned to school, at least. Delighted, Lucky wagged his tail enthusiastically.

As much as Alex wanted to let Sirius return to his human form, she knew telling him she was aware of his true identity would raise about a million red flags. He'd probably suspect her, and would sooner run away than stay with the oddly knowledgeable daughter of an auror.

Besides, he was having enough fun pretending to be a dog. Her dad warmed up to him quickly, feeding him treats almost every hour. Alex had to shut herself and Lucky in her room before Dad began to lose it and start giving him ice cream. She saw the way he was glancing at the freezer.

"I've always wanted a dog," she confided in him. Using Spitfire's brush, she combed through his matted fur. When the clumps got too difficult, she snipped it off. "Spit's always sleeping or running off somewhere, and though Harry and Cedric visit from time to time, it can get a little lonely. My parents are almost always working, you see. Dad owns a pretty popular ice cream store, and Mum's an auror."

If Sirius was trying to act as a common dog, he was doing a terrible job at it. He stiffened noticeably beneath her fingers at the sound of her mum's occupation, and even more so as she continued to talk about Harry.

"It's Harry's birthday tomorrow," she continued, feigning obliviousness. "He's supposed to come over so we can celebrate, but he called me earlier and said he might not make it. I have his present here waiting for him in case he does, though. I can't wait for you to meet him. Harry seems like a dog-lover, to be honest."

There. Now Sirius had to stay.

Smirking, she washed her hands and went downstairs for dinner. Spitfire was content with cat food, but Alex didn't feel right feeding Sirius something like that. After a pause, she dumped most of her meat onto a separate plate, and gave it to Lucky. Mum tried to reprimand her, but then Dad hand-fed the dog himself, so she simply sighed and resigned herself to her fate.

"You found Lucky while walking around this afternoon, right? Well, I want you to put a stop to that for now. A particularly vile convict has recently escaped from Azkaban."

Alex hummed lightly. "What did he do?"

"He caused a street to explode, killing a wizard and a dozen muggles."

"But why?"

Mum shrugged. "We don't know. He just started laughing like a maniac, so everyone figured he went mad."

Dad frowned. "I knew Sirius when he was a lad," he said quietly. "Came from a bad family, but he himself was a good kid."

"Then it doesn't make sense," Alex decided, tossing some more food into Lucky's direction. He snapped it up quickly. "Did he even get a proper trial? A chance to defend himself?"

"He was too unstable," said Mum, but she frowned as if confused.

"They should have sent him to Mungo's before Azkaban, then. That's what the non-magical justice system would have done." She scoffed. "The Ministry's so messed up. Something's fishy about the whole thing."

Her mum was unimpressed. "And how would you know, dear daughter?"

"Mum," she said, "they hired Lucius Malfoy as a school governor. Lucius Malfoy."

Dad chuckled. "She's got you there, Jules."

"Florean," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're just upset he called your shop commonplace and unsuitable for his son."

Dad pretended to lose his hearing, as he did whenever Mum was right.

Alex laughed into her hand before glancing at Lucky. He was gazing up at her intently. She snuck him another piece of roast pork down the side.

Alex was wrong. Harry didn't show up on his birthday, but he did appear in the shop the day after.

She was just about to go on her lunch break when the door was opened and Harry himself walked in. He started to smile when he saw her, but then he noticed the furious expression she was wearing.

"You!" she hissed, throwing her apron off and stalking close. "Where have you been? You didn't call or owl me, and now you just stroll in as if nothing's happened?"

Harry backed up against the door. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to," he said, panicked. "My horrid aunt came to visit on my birthday, and I had to stay and let her trash talk to me. But then she started on my parents, so, uh, I kind of blew-her-up."

Alex froze. "You what?"

"I accidentally used magic, and she began to inflate like a balloon. Last time I saw her she was screaming and flying away," he added with a cringe.

"Oh." She relaxed. "Did she die?"

"No, the Ministry got to her."

Of course they did. "Damn."

Harry remained apprehensive. "Are you still mad?"

"No," she sighed. "As long as you promise you planned on telling me you were safe."

He nodded vigorously, but Alex remained skeptical. "I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron, have been since yesterday. The Minister's paying for it."

She frowned, returning to the counter to scoop up a snack for her friend. "Why? Shouldn't your wand be snapped or whatever for using magic on a muggle?"

Harry's hand drifted to his pants pocket, where his wand was probably stored. "That's what I said. He started looking shifty and saying that he was just glad I was safe, what with Sirius Black running around. You've heard of him, right?"

Heard of him? She had given him a haircut the other day. "Yeah," she said, compiling a sundae of Harry's favourite flavours. "His is a weird case. They never gave him a proper trial, so who knows what really happened that day?"

His head tilted to the side - a quirk of his whenever he encountered something curious. That was what happened when your familiar was an owl. Briefly, Alex wondered if she had inherited any odd habits from Spitfire.

"Really?" said Harry. "That's not normal in the wizarding world, is it?"

"Nope. That's why I think something's afoot. So if I were you, Harry, I would take nothing at face-value. Now," she added, "do you want cherries or chocolate sprinkles?"

Once her shift was over, she checked out Harry's suite at the Leaky Cauldron. It was very plain, but probably an improvement over his room at Privet Drive. Harry didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, the sudden freedom allowed him to relax quite a bit. Alex played with Hedwig for a good while before she noticed the angry book tied with a belt on his desk.

"Oh, you got your new Care of Magical Creatures book already?"

"That's what it is?" Harry asked, bewildered. "Hagrid gave it to me for my birthday. Wasn't sure what it was."

"Speaking of your birthday, I still have your gift at home. I'll bring it by sometime this week. Oh, and you're meant to stroke the spine of the book if you want to open it. It needs a gentle touch, just like women do."

Harry's nose wrinkled. "Please never use that line again."

Alex silently resolved to use it as much as possible.

"I'm going to buy my supplies next week. Come with me, yeah? You can meet my new dog."

When Sirius broke out of Azkaban, his plan was hodge podge at best. To be frank, all thoughts of escape died within his first month in prison, but the sight of that damned rat in the Prophet reignited the flames of rage that the dementors had managed to snuff out long ago.

He waited until the time was right. When the dementors were least active, less aware, he transformed and snuck out right beneath their noses (if they had any).

Breaking out was one thing, but making his way back to civilisation was another. It involved a lot of walking, a lot of swimming, and a lot of inedible things he managed to stuff down his throat. Whenever he was close to caving, he thought of James, of Lily, of Harry. He thought of Peter, and he was good to go another day.

People were scared to approach him. He didn't make it easy for them, either. If they were remotely magical, he would go haywire. He couldn't tell if they were friend or foe, so he treated them all as potential threats.

The only one who hadn't been wary was a young girl who couldn't have been more than fifteen. Granted, he was too tired and hungry to do more than watch her, and he was glad for that. She fed him and took him in, and even gave him a home in the meantime. She looked every inch a muggle, and so he trusted her blindly.

The first warning came in the form of her father. Seeing him triggered some faint memory in Sirius's mind, but he couldn't determine whether that was good or bad. He began to feel wary then, and the feeling only intensified as he continued to listen to their conversations. The mother was an auror! He needed to get out of there ASAP.

But then the girl mentioned Harry. Sirius couldn't believe it. While the chances that she was talking about his Harry were slim, she noted that his birthday was the next day, and Sirius' hopes went up despite himself. Her decision to name him Lucky (terribly tacky, by the way) suddenly made some sense.

Sirius hadn't cried in some time. The last time he had shed tears had been at Godric's Hollow, and that was mostly gut-wrenching sobbing. He didn't cry at all during his imprisonment—screamed himself raw, burst into mad laughter a few times, and toed the line between sanity and insanity—but he wouldn't cry for them.

Seeing Harry in the flesh, however, made the floodgates he'd locked up twelve years ago creak open again. Dogs couldn't exactly cry, but he did whine an embarrassing amount. Fortunately, the girl was right, and Harry laughed happily as Sirius showered him with a small fraction of the love he had missed out on all these years.

After a furious debate with himself, Sirius came to the conclusion that he could trust the person who had gotten him this far. Alexandra Fortescue stood up for him—Sirius Black, magical Britain's most wanted—and challenged the label that so many simply accepted. What he was about to do was risky, but he figured it would pay off in the long run.

He waited until everyone else was gone. Alexandra was home alone, reading and practising her wand movements, while the cat snoozed away beside her pillow. Sirius almost chickened out, but he knew this was imperative for his plans. Alexandra would cooperate. And if she didn't, well, he would make sure she kept quiet.

Sirius, in his animagus form, sat up from his spot by the door. Alexandra glanced at him, and that was when he made his move. Making sure her eyes were on him, he transformed back to his human self, dirty prison uniform and all.

Her eyes widened comically. She didn't scream, didn't even lift her wand in his direction. "Um," was all she said.

So far, so good. "I need your help," he said, wincing at how raspy his voice sounded after weeks of disuse.

She moved, but only to gather her cat into her arms. "With what?" she asked warily. "If it's, like, murder—"

"No," he said hastily. Now it was his turn to act shocked. "Well, it probably won't come to murder."

"I mean, I'm not totally against murder," she assured him, and wow, this conversation was not heading in the direction he thought it would.

"My name is Sirius Black," he said, attempting to get things back on track. "I was framed, and I need to catch the one responsible in order to clear my name."

She absently ran her fingers through her cat's sleek coat. "Who's responsible, then?"

Sirius's lip curled as he spat, "Peter Pettigrew."

"The one who died?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"He didn't die," he said snappishly. Thoughts of Peter always drove him into a right foul mood. "He's an animagus, like me, except he's a rat – a fitting form for him. I saw him in the newspaper, with a family of redheads. That's when I made my escape."

Alexandra's face pinched up in thought. "The Weasley family? They have a pet rat, and it has—"

"One missing toe?" he interjected. "When I cornered him, Peter cut off his own finger to solidify the fact that he was dead."

"But why?" That seemed to be a favourite phrase of hers.

Fists clenched, Sirius closed his eyes briefly. "He helped Voldemort kill my best friends."

"I see." Alexandra shifted off the bed, and Sirius was on his guard. "First, let's get you some food. I don't think Dad will notice if some of his clothes go missing."

"That's it?" he said, both surprised and suspicious. No way it was that simple. "You believe me just like that?"

"I mean, it makes sense," she said, shrugging. She donned her slippers and left Spitfire on her bed. "And if you had any evil intentions, you would have swiped my wand up by now." She clipped her weapon to her wand holster as she spoke.

"People think I'm the devoted Death Eater, not Peter. I could be deceiving you right now so I can get closer to Harry."

"Yeah, but I have this." Alexandra paused by her desk and picked up what Sirius recognised as a Sneakoscope. "Harry gave me this for my birthday. It's done nothing but sit on my desk for the past month."

Sirius allowed himself a small sigh of relief. She believed him, or at least was pretending to. He followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she asked if he wanted anything for lunch. In the end, she made them a smorgasbord, where they had a little bit of everything.

"So what's your plan?" she asked, nibbling on some fruit.

Sirius choked down a mouthful of salami. "First, we need to snatch up Pettigrew. We make him reveal himself in front of Dumbledore, clear my name, and then I'm a free man."

Alexandra thought for a moment. "I think my mum has a few animagus-proof jars somewhere. I can get to Scabbers—the rat's name—pretty easily, and getting to Dumbledore's office will be even easier. But where will you be when I'm at Hogwarts?"

"I'll be there, trust me."

Alexandra tapped her fingers against the tabletop, eyes distant. "Does anyone know about your animagus ability?"

"Snape might remember," he said with a sneer. "But I'll be sneaky enough that he won't notice me."

The conversation dipped there. Alexandra was lost in thought while Sirius attacked the spread before him. He never realised how much he missed eating like a human.

"You seem really fond of Harry," she noted a minute later. "Why's that?"

Sirius considered her seriously. Alexandra obviously cared for Harry a good deal, and judging by the way he acted around her, the feeling was mutual. Besides, this was the first display of genuine emotion Sirius had seen in her since this entire conversation began. Again, a little suspicious, but his options were very limited at the present moment.

So he threw caution to the wind.

"He's my godson."

Sirius grimaced as the chunk of cheese closest to her melted into a pile of yellow goo. Such a waste, he thought as watched Alexandra wrestled with her emotions to keep a lid on her magic. The fact that she was still having explosive bouts of accidental magic at her age was slightly disconcerting, but Sirius already had enough on his plate, thank you very much.

"So what you're saying is," she began slowly, "Peter Pettigrew's the reason Harry grew up without his parents? Why he was raised by the Dursleys?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"Well, then," she said lightly, "that makes things very simple."

He eyed her oddly. "It does?"

"Mmhm." She cut a line through the melted cheese using a stick of celery. "We just have to make sure Pettigrew dies in the most horrid way possible."

Sirius couldn't help but grin. It was dark and twisted, and part of him felt like he was still back in Azkaban. Pettigrew would soon understand the reason behind the expression if it was the last thing he did.