LIII

"This is a mess!" Justin screamed over the roar of the crowd and the thunder of the storm. "I swear, it's not normally like that."

Kakashi didn't need Justin to apologize for the rain. He knew that nobody could control the weather. It was disappointing, though. Not because he minded the rain, but because he could barely see anything that was happening far above their heads.

Three times, they were in luck and could see the Chasers score despite the horrid conditions. Zacharias for Hufflepuff and then Katie Bell two times for Gryffindor. Other than that, though, they were staring into the abyss, the game completely lost to them. Kakashi regretted coming out here in the first place. With virtually the whole school watching the game he could've done something useful, instead here he stood getting himself soaked and freezing.

He wanted to make up an excuse, so he could get away when Hannah Abbott yelled "There!" and pointed far ahead.

Cedric was on the move. Shortly after him, Kakashi spotted the Snitch too, but Harry wasn't far behind. The whole crowd of Hufflepuff fans exploded into cheers, pushing their Seeker forward.

"The Fox Demon broke free."

"What?"

"I didn't say anything," Justin replied confused.

"I'm sorry, Kakashi."

The cheers from the crowd were somehow muted. He could barely hear them, even though he stood right in their midst, and he could see the kids open their mouths to cheer.

"They didn't make it."

Justin ducked his head. Kakashi saw him shudder and sling his arms around himself.

"It's no use—Kakashi—I think I'm done for."

He knew that feeling. The voices in his head, the cold. As if it froze him from the inside out.

"I never gave you a gift—to congratulate you—on becoming Jonin…"

"He killed her! Shit..."

"What about Naruto?"

"Get the girl's body!"

"Stop it…" Kakashi clamped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying out. He needed to get away. The Dementors…

When he found his way to the edge of the Hufflepuff stands, he looked down into the darkness below. Just a bit further to the center, a hundred Dementors swarmed crowded closely together staring up at the stormy sky.

Somehow, despite the sludge of despair in his heart muting out all other sounds, the scream still made it to his ears. It wasn't in his head. A panicked roar traveled across the crowd. Children were pointing up—up…

Harry was falling. Kakashi saw his cloak flutter in the wind, his broom getting carried away by the storm without him, and the boy fell and fell. From that distance, he would break all his bones and die. Kakashi moved immediately.

He heard his name. "Charlie!" and "KAKASHI!" And he could barely even say which was really said and which was just in his head.

Dropping down on the field and running towards the Dementors was exactly the opposite of what he wanted to do, but he couldn't allow Harry to fall to his death.

"KAKASHI!"

He stopped short when he saw Minato-sensei and Kushina-nee right in front of him. Their bodies speared open, a palm-sized hole in their bellies where the Kyuubi had clawed through them. He could hear a child cry, scream.

"Please. Protect Rin!"

He could hear the boulders crumbling down on them. He could hear the chirping of a thousand birds.

Was he…crying?

His Sharingan was itching.

Looking up, he tried to find Harry. The boy should've landed in his arms a long time ago. Had he missed him? Had he failed again, stupidly running in the wrong direction?

Around him, it was as if the world was tinted red. Where before he saw just the darkness of the storm and the fluttering cloaks of the Dementors whispering cruel nightmares into his ears, now, it seemed, whatever light there had once been was now tinted into the blood-red of his Sharingan.

And there was Harry. Floating just above him, gently sinking to the crowd. He reached out to catch him, but just when he thought he would touch him any second, he was gone. A girl screamed.

His Sharingan—

You can't apparate on school grounds, Kakashi thought. Where did he go?

But Harry was gone, and where he had been, it seemed as if there was a hole in reality, forever spiraling, spiraling as if the storm clouds were pulling together in that single spot of nothing.

His Sharingan—hurt.

Shocked at the sudden loss of chakra, he clutched a hand over Obito's eye, pleading with his dead friend to stop—to stop screaming in his head! Frantically, the single eye that remained to him tried to look for Harry, tried to look for an exit, but there were Dementors all around him.

Happiness. You can fight them with happiness. But there was no happiness in his heart.

When one of the wraiths pulled their hood back, revealing its frothing maw, Kakashi fled, even as he felt his consciousness slipping. The Dementors didn't let him go so easily. And then he saw her.

"Kakashi!"

Rin…No. He shook his head, Rin was dead. That wasn't Rin. That was…She was...

It had been a stupid idea. Sirius knew the moment he climbed the dais that this could only end in disaster. But how could he deny himself to see Harry? He hadn't seen the boy in so many years. He wanted to know how he looked, how he grew up, if he was happy, if he had friends who were dear to him. He wanted to see if he was like his father, reckless and wild, loyal and fun, or like his mother, kind and smart, witty and just.

The last time he saw Harry, he was still a baby barely able to string sounds together to form his first words. He'd be a boy now, and Sirius wanted to meet that boy. He didn't think he'd ever get a chance to truly introduce himself, and if he did, Harry would probably want to kill him for what he thought Sirius did to his parents. Even if he knew the truth, he might not ever want to meet the ex-convict with nothing to offer but madness. But Sirius wanted to see him at least. Just once, doing something he loved: like flying.

James had always been a magnificent flier, and as soon as Sirius learned that Harry had joined the Gryffindor team as well, no matter how risky it would be, Sirius couldn't stop himself from visiting. He wouldn't stay long, he told himself. Just to see Harry and ensure himself that he was alright. Then he would sneak away again, unseen, and continue his quiet vendetta against Peter. If everything went according to plan, he would kill the rat and end his own life without anybody noticing. He wouldn't meet Harry again.

He wouldn't see him fly again.

Your son's a true Gryffindor. He thought as he watched him. Can you see him? James? Lily? He has your talent, James. He might even be a little better. Faster, more agile. Don't you think?

He didn't have a chance to watch any longer than for a few minutes, then Harry saw him, and it distracted him so much, that he almost lost control of his broom. It was then that Sirius decided to leave.

He felt teary on his way down from the top of the stands, trying not to get noticed by the cheering Ravenclaws around him. The weather served as his protection, shielding him from being seen.

In a way, the thunderous sky reflected his mood. He felt…uncommonly human. Even his dog's heart felt the same long-ago ache he would normally suppress in his transformation. He missed them. He missed his friends.

He wished…

Could he allow himself to wish, or would it be too much of a distraction?

In the end, he thought, it was his fault. When he felt the cold creep up his scrawny limbs, he knew they had come for him. Somehow, despite his transformation, they had felt his heartache, his longing, and they had recognized it…had recognized him, as somebody who belonged to them, who was promised to them.

After twelve years, the Dementors knew him well, and as soon as his concentration slipped, they were upon him.

Sirius stood perfectly still, hiding covered by a huge red Gryffindor flag just next to where he came crawling out from the stands. It was flapping in the wind, hitting his body with the force of a whip, but despite that he remained there, unseen, to take a few shaky calming breaths. He had to calm down. He had to lock the pain away.

With the Dementors that was difficult, but—although they knew he was close—they didn't recognize him in his Animagus shape and didn't attack him. As he managed to get his emotions under control, their viciousness diminished, the cold wasn't as sharp anymore and the despair lifted off his soul.

He looked up at Harry one last time, trying to find his shape among the blurry red and yellow cloaked players in the sky, but he couldn't find him. He was distracted from his search almost immediately. Dumbledore came storming down from the teacher's lounge and waved his wand. A big silver bird climbed out of the tip of his wand. A Phoenix.

"How dare you come here!?" He roared. His booming rage made Sirius flinch and retreat. "Where is Harry? Get lost, you vile creatures! I will talk to the minister about this!"

Silently, Sirius snuck around the Ravenclaw dais and fled towards the Whomping Willow. In the far distance, through the veil of rain, the tree shook its branches in that satisfied way it always did, when it smashed an annoying bird between its arms.

He didn't make it to the willow, though. Halfway between the Quidditch pitch and the tree, Sirius stopped. In the darkness, it was hard for him to see, but he was sure there was a shape just at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, limping along the tree line, the Dementors hovering above, though they didn't attack yet. It was none of his business, he thought. He had to keep away from the Dementors as much as possible if he wanted any chance to kill Peter. But he also knew that the Dementors had left their post in Azkaban for him. That person they were tormenting looked like a boy, like a young student not much older than Harry.

Sirius knew it was reckless, but he had always been reckless, and the idea that a child would get tortured by these horrible beings because of him… He had brought them here in the first place, and though he never wanted Hogwarts to be haunted by them, he had long accepted that that was the price others had to pay for his freedom. But the way five or ten of these creatures were circling over the head of an innocent boy… He knew that torment. Had known it for twelve years, and no child should have to experience that.

So, he turned away from the Whomping Willow towards the trees of the Forbidden Forest, where the boy slumped down leaning against a tree, ducking his head between his arms. Sirius reached him in no time at all.

The boy was a Hufflepuff. Under all the mud covering his frame, Sirius recognized the badge on a soaked cloak. He seemed familiar. Brown hair stuck to his scalp, darkened by the rain. He had a slender statue. He looked like the boy he'd seen the very first night when he infiltrated Hogwarts and failed to get into the common room. He had thought him unremarkable then, but it couldn't be a coincidence, that he kept meeting this same Hufflepuff.

Also… He was sure, last time he saw him the boy didn't have the long scar bisecting his eye. He knew that scar. He'd seen a very similar one once when Kakashi lifted his bandages. Under those bandages, for days he had covered the scar and an eye swirling red and black. Sirius had only seen it very few times.

Kakashi…

What was the boy doing here? He wasn't a wizard. He wasn't a Hogwarts student.

"Go away," the boy said. He sounded oddly young.

No, that wasn't it… He sounded his age.

Sirius didn't know if he should leave. Did Kakashi even talk to him? He had his head in his arms, pressing his hands over his ears.

"Go away. Leave me alone!" The despair in that same voice that Sirius had only ever heard strong and confident or dismissively bored was heart-breaking. "Get out of my head!"

The Dementors were tormenting him.

A child soldier, he remembered, who killed before. He couldn't begin to imagine the horrors they made him reexperience.

Sirius wanted to help, but he didn't know what to do. He didn't even know if he was welcome to help. Yet, when Kakashi shuddered and pulled his head in tighter, Sirius made his choice. He nudged the boy's knee with his snout. Kakashi stilled. Taking it as a good sign, Sirius nudged harder, then licked across the back of Kakashi's hand, trying to get his attention. They needed to get away from here. The Dementors were hovering and waiting, there was no telling when they'd attack.

Kakashi shifted. Trembling hands let go of his ears. He looked up and seeing his face from the front and uncovered made Sirius' breath hitch. He was bleeding. First, Sirius didn't find the wound, then he was almost certain there was blood running out of the tear duct of his red eye. The eye had changed too. For a split second, it blinked open, and Sirius saw a glimpse of it in the dark. The same red, but instead of the three droplets that he was sure were there before, there was a black propeller-like shape, swirling in bloody irises.

"I'm sorry," Kakashi's voice hitched. With trembling hands, he reached for Sirius, dug cold fingers into Sirius' fur, and held tight. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. It suddenly—I didn't want to hurt—"

He made no sense at all. His voice was erratically shifting in pitch and his hands were trembling so hard, they shook Sirius' whole body. The boy was strong. Merlin, he was strong! Sirius had no way of freeing himself from his grip.

"You should use Wormtail. I'm the obvious choice. They'll be after me, and while I distract them, Wormtail can hide."

"What about Moony?"

"James… I'm not sure. Moony…Dumbledore said there's a spy close to us."

"Moony would never betray us."

"He's hardly ever here anymore! I don't know what by Merlin's beard he's been doing all month!"

He heard his own voice yell, drowning out Kakashi's erratic breathing. Looking up, Sirius saw what he had feared. There were more Dementors now. Either they were preparing for an attack, or they had recognized an easy target. In any case, even if they didn't descend on them for the Kiss, he knew, Dementors could cause lasting harm, especially for somebody who he feared had seen unimaginable pain in his life. A child soldier, for fuck's sake!

He nudged at Kakashi to stand up and get moving. He had to get him to the castle somehow. Far away, through the rain, he could see the students trail from the pitch back to their warm beds. If he could get Kakashi there, he'd be safe, he hoped. The boy could be protected by the teachers' Patroni. But Kakashi didn't move. He nudged again, shoved him with his snout, so hard, he almost pushed him over. Yowling and whining, he demanded for Kakashi to stand up.

Somehow, with trembling legs and one hand still knotted into Sirius' fur, the boy stood.

"I'm sorry," he said again. Sirius didn't know what he was apologizing for. Nymphadora and Alaric Gibson back in London? That was so long ago. And it was Sirius who had to apologize for how he had treated Kakashi when the boy had only tried to help the only way, he knew how.

Though Sirius tried to push Kakashi towards the castle, it was as if the boy didn't feel him pulling away. He seemed blind to where he was going and instead of moving towards the castle, he stumbled into the forest, between dark trees, trudging through quelching mud. The Dementors followed. Sirius bit into the hem of Kakashi's cloak, so he could pull into the other direction.

"The Dementors," Kakashi whispered.

Sirius turned to look back towards the castle. Kakashi was right. A big number of them had descended between where they stood and where the students hurried into the school building, effectively blocking their way. The Dementors were easily kept at bay by the teachers' Patroni, but that only pushed them further toward Sirius and Kakashi. Fearfully, Sirius drew back. He allowed Kakashi to lead them deeper into the forest, but this way they were only fleeing further away from safety.

He could hear his own breath run fast, puffing out clouds of white fog with every exhale. He was panting, but the cold air seemed to dry out his tongue, and the vicinity of the Dementors made everything even colder.

Kakashi stumbled. Something wasn't right. He moved as if he could only keep his balance with difficulty. And the Dementors…were they coming closer, hovering lower?

He had to bring Kakashi to safety. Preferably before they left the protective wards of Hogwarts. He feared the only reason they hadn't attacked yet, was Dumbledore's protection. The ministry wouldn't risk Dumbledore's wrath by attacking a student on school grounds, he hoped. But he couldn't rely on that flimsy protection, especially once they left the wards.

"Run." Kakashi had stopped. There was blood running between his fingers that he was still pressing over his injured eye. "They aren't after you. Go!"

But that wasn't right. They were here because of Sirius. Sirius had brought them here, and they would only leave if…if…

He turned. He was good with his transformation. It took him only a few seconds to complete.

"What are you doing?" Kakashi hissed. "Are you mad? You were safe. Why did you turn?"

He knew, what he was doing. "They are about to attack you," he said. "I can distract them, Kakashi."

Kakashi blinked. "I'm not—I can take care of myself. You know I—And I hurt your cousin! Why would you care?"

Sirius had no time to explain. "Run! Please." He had only seconds before the Dementors would recognize him, so he ripped Kakashi's fingers from his ragged prison garbs and ran. Away from Kakashi. He wouldn't have long, he knew, before they would catch up to him. The mud was slippery. He hadn't run on his own two feet in so long, he found the sudden height of his body disorienting. The trees he ran past were just a dark blurr, and sharp twigs bit into his arms and face as he broke through the woodwork.

Within seconds, the ground under his feet began to freeze. Absurdly, he even was a bit grateful for it. His steps were much more stable over the hardened soil.

"Peter! How could you? James and Lily!"

"—hereby sentence the accused, Sirius Orion Black—"

He could feel the rough parchment in his hand, the letter informing him of his fate.

The Dementors had to be close. Still running, he turned around. His own hair blocked his view, but as the wind blew the strands away, he could see the beasts behind him. It was as if the world stopped existing around him. As if nothing else mattered, as he stared into the face of the Dementor. It was breathing. Ice cold air came from its lungs, hitting Sirius' face, freezing the tears on his cheeks. It smelled rotten and moldy, of fire and dust. Of a road blown to pieces and dead and disfigured Muggles bleeding on the parchment.

Wham!

Something collided with the Dementor, kicked it away. The distance allowed Sirius to breathe again. He hadn't even realized that he had stopped running.

"You shouldn't have turned!" Kakashi glowered at him. Had he just—had he just kicked the Dementor? The dark creature had been thrown a few feet away, now righting itself with a quiet whistle of air rushing through its dry throat. "Turn back!"

"Why are you still here?" Sirius yelled back, as his mind slowly managed to collect the dots. "You should've run back to the castle!"

"Why would you sacrifice yourself!?"

They weren't getting anywhere, Sirius realized. He grabbed Kakashi by the shoulder and pulled him with him. Kakashi was so weak, that he stumbled over a root. Sirius caught him. In the motion, he pushed Kakashi's winter cloak open, revealing the tip of…a wand.

Sirius didn't hesitate. He reached for the handle, pulled it from the inside pocket of Kakashi's cloak, and brandished it against the dark creatures surrounding them.

The scent of rosemary and thyme.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

He didn't have much hope that it would work. He hadn't held a wand in years and hadn't known any happiness in just as long, and he was using a foreign wand. By right, nothing should happen. He was surprised when despite all the factors working against him, a thin silvery fog shot from the tip of his wand and settled like a fragile dome around them.

The Dementors flew against the incorporeal Patronus as if it was a plane of glass. The silver fog rippled upon collision, but it made no sound at all. Neither did the Dementors. It was an oddly quiet spectacle as if their bodies smashing into his shield should make a sound as if he expected to hear their angry chatter. But they remained entirely silent.

The shield wouldn't hold long, he knew. It was the only chance they had, so he turned to the boy, who eyed him with a single tired eye. Sirius grabbed his hand and ran. The edge of the wards wasn't far away. The border that marked the exact moment when they were out of school grounds was invisible to the eye, but Sirius felt the familiar magic tickle over his skin, as he rushed through. The very second, he set foot on the other side, he disapparated.

He knew it was risky. Reckless, even. Such a dangerous bit of magic with an unfamiliar wand in a panicked situation with adrenaline making him rush the process. He had been among the best in his class when they got their licenses. But that was over fifteen years ago, and he hadn't held a wand in years. It was completely reckless. Even more so to pull Kakashi with him in a Side-Along Apparition.

He felt the ripping sensation under his navel, the rapid circling motion of his body. Kakashi's hand was slipping out of his grasp, so he held on even tighter.

Sirius had never been one to get nausea from magical travel, neither from the floo nor from Portkeys, from Apparitions least of all. It had been almost second nature to him. Today was the first time, he felt sick after dropping out of the Apparition. His stomach convulsed, and he dropped the wand as he was forced to gag over the muddy soil.

Even when he finally righted himself to check where they were, he still felt unstable and weak. In the distance, he saw the houses of Hogsmeade, barely visible in the stormy night. Turning around, he found no Dementors, which filled him with a sudden, nauseating sense of relief. They'd done it! They got away. He laughed out loud. They were—

They—

Where was Kakashi?

"I don't think that was supposed to happen…"

Kakashi's voice came from a few meters away. Sirius turned on his heel running to the silhouette lying on the ground, that he could only barely make out in the darkness. Before he reached him, he could already smell the sickening stench of blood.

Oh, Merlin, no!

But when he reached the boy, it was worse than he had feared. Kakashi had both hands pressed over his abdomen. Blood came bubbling out of the open wound, quickly drenching his clothes and the ground underneath, as the life ran out of him.

"But we got out," Kakashi said. How he was still conscious was beyond Sirius. "That's good. Give me…I have medical supplies on my belt." He wasn't even crying or screaming. It had to be the shock, Sirius reasoned. "Can you…?"

"Right." Sirius forced himself to move past the shocked inactivity of his body. He ripped the boy's cloak open, revealing a formerly Hufflepuff yellow wool sweater, now drenched in Gryffindor red. He had to lift Kakashi up a bit, so he could reach the pouch that he already wore on the first day they met. When he lifted his back, he felt as if he was breaking the boy in half, and yet the boy barely made a sound apart from a hissing moan.

The med-pack was easily found. It was the only bigger item inside the pouch, bound in grey leather. On one edge it had been repaired with irregular needlework.

Dittany, Sirius thought, I need—

But whatever he had hoped for, he was immediately disappointed, all his hope dying at once, as he opened the pack. It wasn't a wizard's emergency medical supply, but muggle equipment. Bandages, plasters, thread, and needles. Even if Sirius knew the slightest bit about knitting, he wouldn't be able to close Kakashi's wound that way. It was too big. There were tubes and small bottles too, but when Sirius opened them to sniff out what they were, he couldn't place any of them and was sure that none of it was the Dittany he needed.

"I can't stitch your wound back together," he admitted, panic rising in his voice. "It's not—"

"Just do your best," Kakashi said still way too calm for the situation. "It doesn't need to be pretty." He coughed, blood spraying through his lips. The short chuckle that followed was entirely out of place. "I'm losing too much blood."

"I can't stitch it together, Kakashi," Sirius insisted. "You're…the wound is too big."

"Oh?" Somehow, he managed to lift his head far enough that he could look down his torso. "Oh… Huh? Yeah… That's not good," he agreed, then his head dropped back heavily.

From the right side of his torso, just above his pelvic bone, a deep cut almost split the boy into two pieces. The left leg was virtually detached from the body.

"Okay… I don't think it cut through the aorta, or I'd already be dead. Can you find an artery?"

He didn't make any sense at all. He was as good as dead! Sirius had killed him with his reckless action. How could he stay so calm? Sirius knew he had to do something, but he couldn't do anything…not without—

The wand. Where had he dropped the wand?

In seconds he was on his feet again, back where he had landed. He dropped to all fours, searching the ground. Somehow, miraculously, he found it almost immediately. Sirius had never been a good healer. It just wasn't anything he had ever focused on. Now, less so than ever. He couldn't even come up with an incantation apart from the very basic Episkey. The spell was meant for smaller injuries and lacerations. A good healer would be able to heal a broken bone with it, but nothing like this.

A splinching—even a less violent one—was always a serious matter.

He had to call for help. Sirius didn't even hesitate, nor did he consider, that they just escaped the Dementors, and if Kakashi really died, he would've died helping Sirius flee the Dementors, only for Sirius to bring them back upon him as he cried for help. There was nobody he could ask for help who wouldn't call the authorities on him immediately. To call for help meant surrendering himself, but he didn't once halt to consider that. Instead, he thought about who would be most likely to follow his call in the first place, who would be able to help Kakashi.

The list of people he would trust with the boy's safety was awfully short, the list of those who had the ability to heal him even shorter, and the list of those who he could be sure would follow his call… Would Moony come? Would Dumbledore? Or was Dumbledore still too preoccupied with what happened at the Quidditch pitch?

Moony… In such an emergency, there were only few people he would trust not just with his life, but with Kakashi's, more importantly.

Please help me, Moony.

He tried to think of something nice. It was hard, with the boy's blood all over him. The boy… Kakashi… and Harry. Reality left him with very little that he held in fond memory strong enough for a Patronus. But there was a fantasy, a dream…barely more than an idea, that he held close to heart. He allowed himself to indulge in it for a few seconds, long enough to feel it in every part of his body: the happiness he might have felt if life had been different.

A world in which James and Lily would've lived. A world in which he played a role in Harry's life. A world in which he could be more for Kakashi than a strange dog he had traveled with for a while.

"Expecto Patronum."

First, he didn't think it had worked. Then the solid shape sprang out of the tip of Kakashi's wand. Sirius' Patronus had always been a dog. He hadn't seen it in so long, that he didn't even recognize it. Somehow it looked smaller than he remembered. The silver fur seemed spiky rather than shaggy. A single silver eye stared at him expectantly.

"Find Remus," Sirius ordered, feeling out of breath. "Bring him here. Fast."