A/N: So, I still have hardly any reviews, but hey, I feel like posting more. How about this? Unless I get AT LEAST three reviews (and that's really not very many, if you thin k about it) I refuse to post chapter 5. Maybe. Unless I change my mind. Okay, shut up.

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Chapter 4

The Hunt Resumes

"Morning Minister." Sirius nodded, as Cornelius Fudge walked down the halls of Azkaban a year later.

"Black." The Minister answered curtly. Sirius smiled at his discomfort in having a convict speak to him.

Before the Minister could pass his cell, Sirius spoke up, "Are you finished with that newspaper, Minister? I like the crosswords, you see."

"Er, certainly." He replied. Sirius stretched his hand through the bars for it, but instead, the Minister chucked in through the bars.

"Thank you, sir." Sirius said, turning to pick up the paper. Sirius made himself comfortable in the back corner of his cell. Here he get out the Ever-Ink Quill that one of the Hit Wizards had dropped ages ago, and he unfolded the newspaper.

"Oh my God." Sirius breathed, dropping the quill with a clatter, and shaking the newspaper, staring at the front page's picture.

In a whisper, Sirius read to himself, "Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has one the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.

A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, 'we will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank.'

The Weasley family will be spending a moth in Egypt, returning for the start of a new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend."

But Sirius could care less what the article said. It was the photo he cared about. There, sitting on a tall, gangly, boy's shoulder was a rat. But not just any rat. Wormtail.

That scoundrel got to spend the summer in Egypt, while Sirius sat in a cold, dank, cell.

If that wasn't the last straw, Sirius didn't know what was.

…Returning for the start of a new school year at Hogwarts…

Peter was at Hogwarts. Or he was at least going to Hogwarts. Sirius had found him at last.

But worse still, he was at Hogwarts with Harry. If Voldemort were to come back… Peter could kill Harry in an instant. No one would expect it… Harry wasn't safe.

With that thought in his head, Sirius knew that he had to escape from Azkaban. There was no way Peter would be getting away this time. Belle had to know that Sirius was innocent. Remus had to understand that James and Lily were his best friends and he would never harm them. Harry had to know that Sirius didn't murder his family.

This time, Peter, you won't escape. This time, Peter, you will truly pay. He wouldn't get off as easy as he did the last time. Sirius now realized that Peter was competent enough to think a plan through—but so was Sirius.

As the days passed, the thought of revenge engulfed Sirius. He was dreaming about finding Peter at Hogwarts, and torturing him until he realized what he had done to Sirius. He's at Hogwarts… He's at Hogwarts…

And as for methods of escape, Sirius couldn't think of any. All he knew was that dementors couldn't see, and that when he was a dog, his emotions were so simple, they were practically non-existent. He's at Hogwarts… Hogwarts…

Finally, Sirius just decided he would try to slip past them as a dog. And if he got caught… well, what did he have to lose, really? With any luck, the dementors wouldn't even notice he had left, for an empty cell would give off the impression that he had gone so crazy that he couldn't even think. At Hogwarts… He's at Hogwarts…

So, one night, when the dementors were bringing in his gruel dinner, Sirius transformed, and ran past them. His dog paws clacked against the stone floor, and some convicts chuckled crazily and pointed at him. But Sirius didn't stop—he just ran and ran. He's at Hogwarts… He's at…

When he was out of the jail, he swam back to the mainland as a dog. He paddled for at least an hour—but he wouldn't let himself stop. He couldn't even feel the cold; he had done it. He was out.

He didn't stop running when he reached land. In fact, he hardly stopped running for days. For a brief moment, he would pause, but he grew paranoid that a dementor would jump out from behind him and bring him back to that hellhole.

But one night, when he was sure that he was far, far, away from Azkaban, Sirius the dog just collapsed. He lay there on the grass and slept. The grass was cool against his furry body, and it felt amazing. It was like he had never been outside before—just being in the moonlight brought back happy memories of camping with James during summer holidays when they were kids, or trouping around Hogwarts grounds with Remus in his werewolf form. Cheery thoughts and memories were flying back to Sirius, and it was the most amazing feeling. But by the time that Sirius had finished watching the most beautiful sunrise he had ever seen, his mind had returned to the task at hand.

Sirius wanted to see Belle. She would know where to find Harry, and he could tell her the real story. Then he had to get to Harry's aunt and uncle's house. He wanted to talk to Harry if he could—or at least see him. Then, he would go to Hogwarts, and find Peter and either turn him in or kill him—Sirius still wasn't sure which one sounded better. Sure, freedom was great, but Peter deserved to die.

With this plan set in his mind, Sirius set off once more, the sun rising in the morning sky, and Sirius's big black feet padding along the roads. He would win, this time. Look out, Peter, I'm coming.