Hello! I hope the few people who've been putting this on alerts are enjoying this! I wouldn't know, though. No reviews, you see. But I'm not complaining, because I like this story. So there.

I sound kind of whiny, don't I? Whatever. Enjoy! ^^

I don't own Harry Potter or the song Don't Get Mad, Get Even by Aerosmith.

...

It's hard enough to make it

When you're livin' on the street

And you want to tell somebody

But you got to be discreet

Then you catch your girlfriend

With her skirt hiked up to here

Honey, Don't Get Mad, Get Even

Don't Get Mad, Get Even-Aerosmith

...

Sirius didn't go immediately to Peter, though. He knew that would take some time. He hadn't any idea where Peter was. He would need to do a little questioning and searching around.

But for now, he would find Michelle. She would be so surprised to see him! His heart clenched and his stomach tightened as he thought of the look on her face when she found him.

That was before he saw his reflection, though. He looked horrifying, his skin grey, his beard long and shaggy, a perfect match to his hair. The robes he'd been arrested in weren't even suitable for a prisoner.

But if she loved him, then perhaps she could look past all of that.

He headed instinctively towards his old home, highly doubting she was still there, but it was his best bet right now. He stayed in his dog form, robes clenched in his teeth, and trotted down the streets towards his home.

He jumped up on the ledge and peeked inside.

His clothes fell from his mouth.

The place was trashed, but the lights were on, so it was recent. Beer bottles and cans, firewhiskey corks, empty boxes of cigarettes. It was disgusting, and Sirius wondered how he ever could have partaken in such things. He trotted around to the other window and placed his front paws on the windowsill, peering cautiously through the window.

He whimpered involuntarily. He saw Michelle alright, but he also saw a man probably ten years older than herself laying on top of her. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was wide as he moved on top of her.

Sirius turned and heaved. He hadn't eaten in a while, so nothing came out, but it didn't matter. The depression settled in his stomach was sickening.

Then he turned and ran as fast as he could in the direction of Privet Drive, where he knew Hagrid had taken him. He didn't know what year or month or day it was, but from the looks of the weather (he couldn't tell by the sun, for it was late evening) it was the end of summer.

He had to find Harry. It was now step number two. Clearing his name was no longer an option. He needed to find Harry and kill Peter.

It kept pumping through his mind as he ran. 'It's Peter's fault. It's Peter's fault. If I hadn't gone to Azkaban, Michelle wouldn't have found anyone else. It's Peter's fault.'

Along with this came profanities, as he was starving to death and his bones and muscles ached from lack of use. But he had to find Harry. He knew he would lead him to Peter. There was a reason James and Lily were killed, and that reason was that Voldemort wanted Harry for some mysterious reason. He didn't know why, but he knew that Peter would be after Harry.

He hoped he wasn't too late.

He neared Privet Drive, and slowed into a trot. He was going to hurt himself if he continued on like that.

And that's when he saw him. There, on the other side of the street.

"James?" It came out as a bark, and the boy jumped backwards at Sirius' slow advancement. His hair flew back and Sirius saw. "Lily's eyes...and what's that scar?" He growled to clear his throat as he continued whispering in dog-speech. "Harry?"

And then came the Knight Bus. He remembered it from when he'd gone aboard to get to James' after he ran away.

To avoid being killed so soon after escaping and before he'd had his revenge, he turned and ran away. After a couple of moments, the bus sped off, and Sirius followed. If he followed Harry, he'd find Peter. And besides, he was fascinated. James' son, a grown boy. What was he like? he wondered. What House was he in? Probably Gryffindor. There was no mistaking it, not when he had parents like James and Lily. And a godfather like himself.

...

The girl really was the brightest witch of her age, as Remus had said. It had taken James, Peter and Sirius years to discover Remus' secret, and it had only taken her a handful of months, maybe weeks. And not only that, she was very pretty. Sirius knew he was seventeen years older than her, but he really didn't care at this point. He could notice things like this, couldn't he? But he couldn't focus on his godson's smart friend's beauty. He had to kill Peter. If he was dead, then maybe Sirius wouldn't feel so angry.

...

Hermione couldn't deny that she was terrified of this man. He was a murderer, the only person ever to break out of Azkaban, and he'd even killed his best friend. He was dirty and his clothes were ragged and his best friend was a werewolf (though she wasn't afraid of Remus-he was far too kind).

But underneath it all, when she was trying to tell if he was telling the truth, she noticed something. He was devilishly handsome.

Besides that, he was also very passionate about James and Lily, so much so that he was prepared to kill one of his best friends over it. He had thought of nothing but that since escaping, and Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been thinking about it all through his time in Azkaban. She wasn't sure on the concept, but she thought she'd read that the only thoughts allowed in the prison were negative, evil thoughts. She figured revenge counted.

Later, when they had helped him escape, he seemed far less scary, and Hermione felt her stomach clench when he called her brilliant one last time. Suddenly, she didn't want him to leave. Being apart from him seemed unbearable.

Of course, being Hermione, she knew that she couldn't feel this way about someone she'd only know for a handful of hours. She shook off the silly feeling and let him fly off on Buckbeak, feeling satisfied that she had accomplished another task at Harry Potter's side, and had even met such an amazing man in the process.

It wasn't until that night when she realised-he was much, much older than her. She felt her skin go up in flames, and was glad everyone was asleep and wouldn't be able to see her mad blushing.

...

Sirius, though, did not feel accomplished. Not one bit. Peter had gotten away.

But he would find that rat yet. He would be dead before Sirius was, he knew that for sure.

He was at his doorstep when he remembered that this wasn't his home anymore-it was Michelle's. But she must have known he had escaped. There were flyers everywhere, it was in the Prophet every day.

He crept around the house, still in dog form, not wanting to get caught, and peeked into the bedroom like last time. He growled. This was a different man, considerably younger.

Something across the room caught his eye, and he felt hope for once since leaving with Buckbeak (who he'd tied up and concealed in his garage). It was a collage-several wanted posters, pictures from the newspapers, all of his face, tacked and taped and magicked to the wall. It was a solid layer of wallpaper, all of his own face. Maybe it was creepy, but maybe it was a sign that Michelle still loved him. His heart leapt, and without another thought, he changed and pushed through his front door.

He heard a thump, followed quickly by a loud moan, one that he'd recognise anywhere, one that he'd heard in his dreams after he'd been arrested.

Feeling anger now, he clenched his wand and ran through his home, his memory guiding him, straight to the bedroom.

He slammed the door open, wanting them both to know immediately that he was there.

"Sirius!" Michelle gasped, jumping out from under the man.

"Get out," Sirius growled, eyes piercing the boy with spears. He jumped from the bed, barely having time to gather his clothes before Sirius shoved him out into the hall. "Never come back," he growled before slamming the door shut and turning to Michelle.

She stared at him fearfully. But at that moment, the weight of everything that had gone on since he'd been arrested to this very moment came crashing down on him, and he collapsed onto the bed next to Michelle.

"Aw," she whispered, pulling his face to her scantily-clad chest and stroking his snarled, dirty hair. "Sirius, why didn't you come for me?"

"You were busy," Sirius mumbled bitterly. He shifted his head to look at her face. "You seem different, Mitch."

She chuckled sarcastically and smirked. "Funny. I could say the same thing about you. What have you been doing since you got out?"

And no matter how much he needed to tell someone, he needed sleep more. So they kept that time from their mind, and silently promised that they wouldn't ask about their lives apart.

...

Hermione came in during this chapter! She'll be back soon, don't you worry. This is Hermione/Sirius, after all. And soon enough, Michelle will be gone. Geez, she annoys me. Mostly because of the chapters that haven't been written yet, but you'll get there soon enough. ^^ Bye for now!
Please review and make my day! ^^