A/N Well here I am, breaking my own personal rule and posting a multi-chapter that I haven't written all of yet. Anyway this first chapter is also in my collection Above the Quidditch Pitch. By popular demand (aka like three people asked) I'm continuing it.

He had already walked several miles inland before he finally found a place to hide and turn back into human form. He knew he couldn't rest for long, but twelve years of never moving more than pacing in your cell will do that to you. He tried not to think of the other things it would do to you.

He shook his head. He needed a plan. He didn't know where Harry lived, and it'd be better to see him before school started. He leaned back against the building he was hiding beside and picked at the thread that was always tickling his hand. He hated that thread, perfectly positioned to annoy him. But that's not what he was supposed to be thinking about; he was supposed to be making a plan. He couldn't go to Remus. Even if Remus did listen to him and believe him without proof, it wouldn't be fair. If he went to Remus and the Ministry found out, they'd give him worse than life in Azkaban. But he had no one else, and he couldn't do this alone.

No one else except Regulus, some tiny corner of his mind reminded him.

His hand drifted back to the thread. No, he didn't have Regulus. Regulus hated him, and who knew if he managed to get out of the war unscathed. The Daily Prophet had mentioned him, but that wasn't the point. Maybe the ministry secretly had Aurors watching his every move, or maybe he was still a Death Eater, or maybe…

Oh stop fretting about it, he could hear James' voice in his head saying.

He curled up into a ball as a wave of grief washed over him. After twelve years of feeling nothing, it was almost too much, but he had to keep going; he had to for Harry.

Regulus sat down at the table for breakfast and picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet that Kreacher had ironed out for him. He didn't need it ironed, but Kreacher insisted, or as close to insisted as the house elf could. His eyes flitted to the headline, and his breath caught in his throat.

Mass Murder Sirius Black Escapes from Azkaban

He scanned the article as fast as he could, flipping to the correct page to see the full story. Sirius had escaped. That shouldn't have been possible, he couldn't… His heart was pounding now. Sirius would never come here, everything would be fine. He looked down at the article again. He still hated seeing Sirius' name next to the words 'Death Eater'. Sirius was a better man than they gave him credit for, he would never become a Death Eater and he never had. After all, Pettigrew had been Voldemort's spy. All those other people that had died, hadn't they just been casualties of justice? The Ministry made casualties too, both Muggles and wizards.

A loud knock on the door pulled him out of his stupor. He set down the Prophet and stood up.

"Kreacher," he called out.

Kreacher stepped in from the kitchen.

"Keep my breakfast warm, please. I'll have it after I see who's at the door."

Kreacher nodded and bowed, muttering some variation of 'very good, Sir'.

Regulus nodded and stepped into the hallway where Mother's portrait was muttering something about the ridiculous hour it was for people to call.

"Thank you, Mother," he said, "that will be enough."

The portrait fell silent, an enraged look on her regal face.

Regulus ignored her, as he usually tried to do, and made his way to the door. Two Aurors stood on the other side of it. Hands near their wands, one of them watching the door, the other watching the road.

"Good morning, gentleman," Regulus said.

"Mister Black, have you had any contact with your brother recently?" one of the Aurors said, without so much as an introduction.

"If you're talking about Sirius, I prefer not to refer to him as my brother. As for having contact with him, I have barely spoken to him since my family disowned him when I was fifteen, and not at all since he was sent to Azkaban," Regulus said carefully.

The Auror nodded. "Thank you, Mister Black. You will let us know if he tries to get in contact."

"Of course."

"Well, we'll not keep you any longer. Good day." The Aurors disapperated away, not waiting for a reply.

Regulus shut the door. Sirius wouldn't come see him, he was sure of it. If he did… well, Regulus wasn't sure what he'd do.

Sirius curled up in dog form on the steps of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. This was a bad idea, a terrible idea really, but he needed help, even if he had to go to his own personal hell to get it. At least mother wasn't alive anymore; that had been the first thing he checked. He almost just stood up and left, but the door opened and Regulus almost stepped out, wearing his overcoat. He looked… sad. He had always looked sad, ever since they were kids.

"You could've knocked," Regulus said dryly. "Don't move, I'll be right back." He didn't bother closing the door but was swallowed by the dimness of the house. A few moments later, Sirius heard the sound of curtains falling closed, then Regulus returned. "Come in," he said, "but don't make too much sound. Mother's portrait is an accurate likeness."

Sirius stood up and walked inside, watching as Regulus followed and shut the door behind them.

"Sitting room," was all Regulus said as he slid off his overcoat and dropped it over the troll's leg umbrella stand.

Sirius obeyed. The sitting room was much harder to be in than the hallway; there were more memories in here.

"It'll be easier to talk if you're human," Regulus said.

Sirius turned to face him, then turned into human form. "Hi," he said quietly.

"You can't be here," Regulus said.

"I don't have anywhere else to go," Sirius said. He hated the sharpness that had creeped into his tone. Why couldn't he just talk to Regulus like a normal person? What did he have to break everything around him? He played with the thread that still bothered him.

"No, I mean it. I'm sorry if I got your hopes up," Regulus said.

"I know you don't want me, but I need help, I can't… I can't do this by myself and I have to… I…"

"I didn't say I don't want you here, I said you can't be here. If the Ministry finds out that'll just add to their ridiculous narrative that you're a Death Eater," Regulus snapped.

"You… you want me here? After everything I've done to you? After I left you alone in this place and…"

"Stop talking!" Regulus sounded genuinely frustrated, but Sirius still couldn't tell if that was a facade; he never could. "Of all things that's what you get out of that? The Ministry can't touch me, and even if they try, my lawyers will get me out with at most a slap on the wrist, but you…"

"I'll get the kiss anyway if they find me," Sirius said drily. "But I have to save Harry. Peter's out there and…"

"But you killed Pettigrew?"

"No, I didn't, I haven't killed anybody!"

"Then it's a good thing he's too cowardly to do anything. After all, he'd be the best one to bring back the Dark Lord. He might not be the best at duelling but he can do some pretty advanced magic," Regulus said.

Anger flashed through Sirius. "So you still support him?"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "No, I said it's a good thing he hasn't brought him back. Now come on, you need a bath, some decent clothing, and a good haircut."