Broken
By Neurotica
Three
Being a dog had its advantages.
For example, as a dog, one had the ability to see in the dark or sniff out predators who were tracking one down. As a dog, one didn't feel the same pain, physically or emotionally, that a human would fall victim to. As a dog, one could make better time with four legs rather than two. And most importantly, as a dog, one found foods a human would find disgusting rather delicious.
Just after midnight, two days following the full moon, a large black dog padded his way through the trees and shrubs of a black forest. He'd known these woods as a child—er, puppy—and knew exactly where he was going. He was sure that his destination would be one of the last places he would receive any sort of warm welcome, but he had to try. Hogwarts might have been a better option to which to travel, but no one had ever accused this dog of using common sense.
The trees began to thin and the path became wider. Normally from this distance, one would be able to see a light on in the old cottage, but the dog supposed the owner must be long asleep by now.
He exited the forest and laid eyes upon one of the few places besides Hogwarts that he'd ever felt at home in his youth. Nothing obvious had changed about the cottage—the paint was still the same color, although it had started to peel in a few places; the garden was still very well taken care of; and he still left the kitchen window open for owls. The dog had warned the cottage's owner on many occasions that he should close that bloody window before turning in for the night, but the world had also changed dramatically since the dog's last warning...
His friend's oversight with the kitchen window proved to be to the dog's benefit. Being so thin after almost five years of prison food, the dog was able to squeeze through the small gap between the window and its ledge. He fell face first onto the warped linoleum of the kitchen floor and yelped. Had he been able to use his human voice, the yelp would have come out as a loud curse.
The dog's grey eyes widened. He'd probably made enough noise to wake the neighbors thirty miles away already. The dog quickly took refuge under the kitchen table, waiting for the cottage's owner to run in the room with his wand drawn.
Nothing happened.
The dog raised an eyebrow as well as a dog could and cautiously crawled out from under the table. His eyes widened to adjust to the darkness in the cottage and perked his ears to hear any sounds around him. The only sounds he could hear were the gurgling of the pipes.
Maybe he's still asleep...? the dog thought. It was true that the dog's friend could sleep through the end of the world—especially after the full moon—but the sounds the dog had made upon his entrance surely would have woken even him...
The dog, growing tired of his four legs by now, began to transform. Once the transformation was completed, a tall man with long black hair and a sunken face stood in the dog's place. He didn't have a wand, so he'd be defenseless if the owner of the cottage jumped out at him, but he'd take his chances.
Sirius Black, the only wizard to successfully escape the prison of Azkaban, crept cautiously through Remus Lupin's home. If the other wizard was there (maybe he wasn't home, after all...) Sirius would find him. He looked everywhere—Remus' bedroom, his study, the extra bedroom, the basement, even the bathroom which was still littered with bandages and empty bottles of healing creams from the last full moon—and found no sign of Remus.
He reentered the kitchen and turned on the light with a sigh, instantly regretting his decision for more light in the room. Once his eyes had readjusted, he looked around. Everything was as neat as it had always been. The only oddity Sirius could spot was a half-eaten plate of food in the sink and an open letter on the counter. However long Remus had been gone from his home, those two items had been sitting there.
Being curious (and perhaps a little nosy), Sirius picked up the parchment from the counter, immediately noticing the broken red wax Hogwarts seal on the back. He unfolded the letter and read:
Dear Remus,
I do hope this letter finds you well after last night. I do not know if you have read the newspapers today, but the impossible has happened: Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban.
This news may come as a shock to you—I was certainly upset by it myself—but I ask you to remain calm and do not jump to make any rash decisions. The Ministry has sent their best Aurors to search for Black, and hope to apprehend him soon.
The well-being of young Harry Potter will be the number one priority of myself and the Minister of Magic until we can capture Black again. I assure you that Harry will remain out of harm's way in the hands of his relatives. If you have any further concerns, please do not hesitate to contact me by owl or Floo.
I'm sure we will be seeing one another soon.
Sincerely,
A.D.
Sirius dropped the parchment back to the counter in partial disgust. So they thought he would harm his godson, did they? Their mistrust was understandable, of course—he had been accused of killing twelve innocent Muggles in broad daylight, killing a best friend at the same time, and setting up two other best friends for their murders the night before. But how could anyone think him capable of hurting his godson? He'd never harmed a person out of malice in his life—unless you count Severus Snape, which Sirius rarely did. He'd almost killed a man once, and the man would have been more than deserving, but he'd underestimated little Peter Pettigrew. That had led to Sirius Black's downfall.
Sirius knew where he could find Harry, but thought it best if he didn't go to Little Whinging right away; Dumbledore probably had half the Ministry staking out Harry's home.
Sirius' stomach began to grumble, signaling it was time to eat something besides rats. He crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator, opened the door, and examined its bare contents. Obviously, Remus hadn't been grocery shopping recently. There were only a couple butterbeers and a few things to make a sandwich.
Pleased to be having anything that wasn't moldy or living less than five minutes before, Sirius retrieved the butterbeers and lunchmeat. He made his meal and sat at the table not wanting to think of the look on Remus' face if the werewolf walked into the kitchen at that moment. What would Sirius say to him? "Hey, Moony, have a butterbeer," probably wouldn't be the best idea. Remus was likely to curse Sirius so badly Azkaban wouldn't need to take him back.
He hadn't really planned what he would do once he was out of Azkaban—all he really wanted was to get away from the dementors with what remained of his sanity. He knew he'd be viewed as a dangerous criminal and the Ministry wouldn't rest until they'd captured him again. Sirius needed to find a way to prove his innocence. The only way that came to mind was to find the Wormtail. The rat was probably so far into hiding that Sirius would never find him, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try. Perhaps he could go to Dumbledore; Hogwarts' Headmaster was always an understanding man, but even Dumbledore probably wouldn't trust Sirius.
He wanted to see Harry. Lily and James' baby boy was probably around six years old and Sirius was curious to see how much he looked like his father. Sirius had loved Harry with all his heart; it was hard not to love him. He never understood Dumbledore's decision to send the boy to his aunt and uncle. Sirius had only met Lily's sister and brother-in-law a few times, but they definitely weren't the type of people Sirius would choose to leave an orphaned wizard boy with.
The (innocent) escaped convict finished his meal, not remembering when he'd tasted anything better, and wandered into the living room. Remus, it seemed, still kept all of the photos of his friends on the fireplace mantle. Sirius' face muscles began to hurt as he smiled at the memories of the pictures—it had been so long since he'd had reason to smile. Regardless of his current feelings towards Sirius, Remus still felt the need to have pictures of all the Marauders in his home. It was nice, seeing all of them smiling again (yes, even Wormtail—he hadn't always been a traitorous rat), knowing they had all once been happy (what happened to those days?). Sirius turned from the photos, wiping at his eyes roughly, and moved to the sofa. It would be nice to sleep on a soft surface again...
The bright morning sun crept through the window, hitting a large black dog in his face. Padfoot continued to sleep until there was a loud knock on the door. Vaguely, the dog-Animagus wondered when the dementors had put a wooden door on his cell, and when his bed had become so soft...
"Remus!" called a muffled female voice.
The dog's eyes snapped open. He immediately transformed back into his human counterpart and stood from the sofa.
"Remus Lupin, I know you're in there! Don't make me open this door with my wand!" the voice called again.
I know that voice... How could I not? Sirius thought. But what is she doing here? He rolled his eyes. She's obviously here to see Remus, you dolt.
"Remus, I'm coming in! I do hope, for your sake, that you're fully dressed!"
"Shit," Sirius muttered hoarsely, looking around for somewhere to hide. He ran to the hallway closet and threw himself inside, closing the door quietly behind him. He heard her enter and close the creaking front door. She crossed silently through the hallway—Sirius could smell her familiar perfume as she grew nearer to the kitchen.
He heard the clinking of empty butterbeer bottles and then silence. He could almost see her rolling her eyes as she threw the bottles in the trashcan.
"Remus, where are you?" she muttered to herself. He heard the rustle of parchment and knew she was reading the letter from Dumbledore. She sighed heavily after a moment and walked out of the kitchen, turning down the hallway leading to Remus' bedroom, right past Sirius' closet. He held his breath as she passed, not wanting her to see him like this, but at the same time, wanting nothing more than for her to find him.
The basement door opened and he heard her footsteps go down the wooden stairs. He leaned against the wall of the closet and let out his shaky breath. He only now realized how very dark this closet was. He started to feel an unnatural coldness fill his insides, and it was becoming really hard to breathe...
They're not here, he tried to remind himself, closing his eyes tightly so he wouldn't see a rotting hand come at him from the darkness. It was no use. Instinctively, he transformed into Padfoot and felt instantly better.
She was coming back upstairs again. And again, he held his breath until she passed—at least, he tried. Before he could stop himself, he emitted a soft, longing whimper.
He could see her footstep's shadows stop just outside the door. She'd heard him... He was going back to Azkaban…
"Remus?" she questioned quietly to the door.
No! No, leave! PLEASE! he thought desperately.
The doorknob began to turn, and the door started to open...