A/N: Well, it has been a crazy time since I posted ten days ago. My son decided to take a six month co-op in Idaho (2,700 miles away) while my daughter is packing to start school in Orlando, Florida (1,100 miles away) Then I get rear-ended sitting at a stop light. I'm fine but they totaled my convertible. It's been a hell of a week but I still had time to finish the chapter!

The Dogfather

It has been said by many with extensive experience with the non-magical world that the magical world is long out of date to the advances of the modern times. Some of this is fair and some of it not. Part of the problem stems from it is a foreign culture for all that it exists in the same physical landmass and speaks the same language. Differences that would be accepted when visiting another nation irritate the Muggle-born or or wizard expecting English values and culture.

The problems arose from the splitting of the two worlds in the years shortly before the fall of the western portion of the Roman Empire. An anthropologist would consider a comparison between the two 'worlds' to be a fascinating study of divergent cultural evolution from a common source. The mundane world had great numbers but lacked the ability to meet their needs. Democracy and technology eventually developed to combat the violence, ignorance, and starvation of the Dark Ages. The Dark Ages themselves could be considered a direct effect of the sudden loss of magical resources and solutions. The mundane population had to overcome and adapt to their challenges. Their culture adapted in response to these changes.

The magical world actually saw an increase in resources with the split. Relieved of providing potions and other assistance to the mundane population, the magical population had a surplus. For a short time the magical world saw a period of unprecedented expansion and discovery but it wasn't to last. Unfortunately, within a generation or two the lack of necessity limited the drive to develop and innovate at the same rate as the mundane world. But still for over a thousand years the magical world maintained distinct advantages in medical care, transportation, education, destructive power, and virtually every other field. This long running superiority led many wizards into assuming a natural superiority over non-magical humans. But the mundane world continued to improve. By the mid- 20th Century, the average British mundane's standard of living matched that of their magical counterpart - even if the magical world refused to see it.

One area of difference was in criminal punishment. The magical world did not see much in the way of serious crime. The ability to conjure and transfigure items to meet your needs took away most criminal motives. Minor crimes were punished by loss of a wand temporarily or permanently, home imprisonment (via wards), or use of potions to prevent desire to commit the crime again. Major crimes were limited to murder, rape, Dark Magic use, violent attacks on Muggles, or treason. (Treason covered a wide range from attempts to overthrow the Ministry or repeated/wilfully breaking the Statute of Secrecy.) These crimes resulted in incarceration at Azkaban.

Azkaban prison started as the fortress of an ancient Dark Lord. He and his followers were the very first inmates to the prison. The use of his servants, the Dementors, to punish him was seen as being particularly poetic at the time. At the time, the prison was well above the standards of its mundane counterparts. However, time and a lack of interest in upgrades or even maintenance by the various magical governments had a prison to shame even the most oppressive mundane regime. Money spent on the former fortress was a waste of Galleons the Ministry reckoned. The small magical population rarely had more than a half-a-dozen prisoners at any given time historically. Even after You-Know-Who's fall it only reached twenty-two., the highest number in 300 years.

In short, it became a Hell on Earth.

The cells were cold and drafty. The wards prevented the majority of cold North Sea winds from penetrating the fortress walls. The remaining wards were sufficient to keep the prisoners' cells above freezing but the cold and lack of food took many prisoners' lives each year. It was no accident that the Minster for Magic's annual visit occurred during the brief summer experienced on the island. The Ministry sent seventeen Death Eaters to the prison after Voldemort's fall on life sentences. Yet by September of 1992, only twelve still survived.

-I-

8 December 1992

Sirius Black, Heir of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, reputed Death Eater, right-hand of the Dark Lord, and Betrayer of the Potters, lay huddled under a ratty old cloak in the small, dark cell. The days, weeks and months had blended together. At times it seemed he'd only just arrived in the cell a short time ago. At other times he'd been here forever.

His cell was made of thick stone walls with the floor and ceiling of the same material. A small window high up on the wall was the sole source of light in the cell. The door was made of vertical metal bars to close together for a human to fit through. While the door allowed the Dementors to get close and the occasional human jailor to check on the prisoners without opening the door, there was a blind spot on either side of the door. It was in this blind spot he was able to take the form of Padfoot without taking the chance that a human guard would see him in his Animagus form. His dog form was the key factor in retaining his sanity along with his knowledge that he was innocent of the charges against him. It was cold comfort but it was still some comfort.

Sirius's cell was the first one in his corridor. The cell across the way had been occupied a Death Eater named Oscar Beliemy that ironically had been captured by James Potter and Frank Longbottom. He had only survived a while before giving up and dying. The cell next door was occupied by his cousin, Bellatrix LeStrange. Bella was the 'perfect' Black and held up by Sirius's mum as the role model for her sons to aspire to. Now she'd lost the little sanity she had remaining screaming her loyalty to her master and calling for him to save her.

Sirius wondered how the 'perfect' Black was one willing to swear undying loyalty to someone outside the family. It never made sense to the family 'white sheep'.

A sudden little 'pop' snapped Sirius out of his absent musings.

"Yous is Sirius Black?" a voice asked.

"Wonderful," the ragged man rasped. "Now I am having delusions with house-elves. At least it's not that evil git of Mother's."

The house-elf cringed but took a tentative step forward. "Did dark dogwizard betray Great Harry Potter and his family?" the elf demanded in a squeaky voice.

Sirius surged forward in his anger. "I NEVER BETRAYED THE POTTERS!" Before the enraged wizard could reach him though, the elf was gone. Sirius stood there in his rage; revelling in the brief moment of life that filled him even in his anger.

"Finally joined up, cousin?" Bella called out mockingly. "Losing your mind in here? If you truly had joined the Dark Lord your reward would have been glorious!" She started to cackle.

"Shut up, you hag!" Sirius roared. "You lost your mind when you became a slave kissing her master's arse!"

Bellatrix's answering screech degenerated into screams and indecipherable shrieks that stirred up the other crazies. Soon that were all screaming and carrying on. Eventually, they attracted the Dementors and the screams turned into whimpers. But long before the Dementors arrived, Padfoot was curled up in his corner trying to ignore the screams. Instead he was wondering on the strange elf and what he wanted.

-II-

The next morning, Sirius Black woke to another delusion.

Next to his head was a silver platter with fine china and silverware. On the plate was an omelette filled with cheese and vegetables. Buttered toast lay next to the eggs. A glass of pumpkin juice stood next to the plate. Sirius almost wanted to cry at the smells coming from his delusion. His stomach clenched painfully as though suddenly remembering real food.

Sirius reached out a tentative hand; fearful of disturbing his delusion lest it go away. He was shocked when his hand made contact with the plate. He gently prodded the eggs with his dirty fingers. It didn't go away.

With an odd groan, the famished wizard fell on the plate of food foregoing the fancy silverware. The food tasted so good going down. He couldn't help eating faster in fear that someone would suddenly come to take it away. Even when his stomach rebelled from the sudden arrival of so much food, he kept eating.

Eventually, the pain grew too much and Sirius had to push away from the meal's remains. Sirius lay on the ground and fought to keep the food down. He barely noticed when the platter blinked away only to be replaced by a small blue vial. A part of his mind recognized the potion and he gingerly drank the small vial's contents. The Stomach-Reliever Potion quickly did just that leaving Sirius Black to enjoy his first full stomach in far too long.

After that morning, the meals arrived at regular intervals although never with as much food as on that first time. Along with the meals would be the occasional potions. While never a potions prodigy like Lily, Sirius was able to recognize most as being common Healing and Nutrition potions. After some time of this, Sirius began to see signs of returning weight and health. His mind also began to clear which was something of a mixed blessing.

It was late in the afternoon when a meal arrived that Sirius finally whispered out, "Hello? Who is helping me? Please talk to me." But nothing happened. He kept trying at the next few meals as well.

Then one morning the same house-elf from weeks ago appeared in front of Sirius again.

"Great Harry Potter's Dogfather feeling better?" he asked in a tentative, fearful voice.

"Yes, thank you," the animagus acknowledged. "I feel much better. Why are you helping me?"

The house-elf looked up with an earnest expression on its big-eyed face. "Harry Potter sir needs a safe place to live. Dobby promise to find him one. Dobby able to follow Potter family magic connection to Dogfather. Innocent Dogfather best choice for Great Harry Potter sir. But Dogfather can't help Great Harry Potter stuck in cell licking hisself all day."

Sirius had to wince at that last piece of imagery. "Harry needs help?" he asked. "How old is he now? He must still be a little boy."

"Great Harry Potter is Second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dangerous things going on at Hogwarts. Harry Potter must be kept safe!"

"A Second year?" Sirius muttered. "I've been here that long?"

"Yes, Mr Dogzard, sir," the odd elf answered nodding his head. Floppy ears went everywhere.

"How are you here?" Sirius asked. "Don't the wards prevent family elves from coming here?"

"Wards keep house-elves from serving bad masters sent to Evil Place. Mr Dogzard is not Dobby's master or master's family. Since master not send Dobby wards not stop Dobby."

Sirius was struck by the loop-hole. "And no one knows about this hole?"

The little elf shrugged. "No one ask elves."

Sirius snickered at the answer. The little guy may seem all meek and beaten down, but Sirius recognized the elf had the makings of a Marauder with that answer.

"Can you get me out of here, Dobby?"

The little elf's ears dropped. "Dobby can't do. Wards stop Dobby from taking Mr Dogzard out of Evil Place. Dobby bring Harry Potter sir's Dogzard food and clotheses."

Sirius thought furiously. The thought that Harry needed him cut through the accumulated years of depression and madness caused by the dementors. A mad plan started to form in his head. Of course it was insane- the entire concept of escaping from Azkaban was insane!

"Dobby, can you meet me when I get to shore with warm, dry clothes, food, and a wand?"

Dobby nodded sending his ears thrashing around wildly again. "Dobby do that. Bad Master has many wands. Dobby can bring. Oh! Dobby say bad thing about Master! Dobby must punish Dobby when Dobby get home."

Sirius had seen more than his share of oddly behaved house-elves growing up in the Black family. His mother's elf, Kreacher, was so bloody insanely devoted that he terrorized Sirius as a child simply because his mother didn't approve of her eldest son's attitude, while Regulus appeared to be the perfect Black son so the elf doted on him. However, Sirius had never heard of an elf so willing to go against its bonded family.

"When is the next new moon?"

Dobby peered up at the gaunt wizard. "Five days, Mr Dogzard."

Sirius smiled. "Okay, Dobby. Here's what we're going to do…"

-III-

21 May 1993

To Sirius's disappointment, and Dobby's increasing panic, Padfoot's escape had to be delayed until May.

The Azkaban's island was about a mile northwest of the Scottish island of Westray. Strong wards kept the island away from Muggle eyes and off their charts. The shipping charts showed a shoal that was a navigation hazard that had been used by the Royal Navy as a gunnery range. As such, both commercial and fishing vessels steered clear of the area. However, its position also left it exposed to the fury of the North Atlantic in winter. While the wards kept the worst of the wind out of the prison, the island itself along with the surrounding sea had no such protection.

Sirius realized he needed three things to successfully escape from the island. First he needed to be able to avoid the dementors once out of his cell. This was solved as Padfoot was virtually invisible to the demon-like creatures. Once outside the prison proper, he needed to avoid detection by the human guards. For that he needed the darkness of the new moon. Finally, he needed the weather to cooperate if he were to have a chance of swimming the mile through the cold water.

Padfoot slipped out of the cell after using a key Dobby had 'borrowed' from a guard. It was late and even the crazies were asleep, whimpering in their dreams. No one noticed the large, albeit emaciated, dog make its way silently through the prison. Prisoners stayed in their cells all day except for once per year when they are taken out for their annual cleaning and health check so Sirius was quickly in unknown territory. Fortunately, Dobby had scouted the safest path to a little used sally port left over from the prison's days as a functional fortress.

It was almost anticlimactic getting to the water's edge. Padfoot encountered no guards, human or dementor, and no alarms were raised. The swim was even worse than he'd expected.

The seas were relatively calm but the cold water was like a thousand needles stabbing him at once through Padfoot's fur. He kept his godson's image in mind and mental repeated, 'He needs me' as he kept paddling.

-IV-

"Mr Dogzard feeling better?"

Sirius was confused as he woke up about where he was. A quick glance around made him quickly realize he was no longer in his cell. He'd done it! He seemed to be in a barn of some type based on the smell of clean straw.

"Here. Harry Potter sir's Dogzard drink this now." A warm cup of tea was pushed into the now sitting Sirius Black's hands.

"Thank you, Dobby. Where are we? How did we get here?"

"Dobby find Mr Dogzard washed up on shore. Dobby bring to farm owned by bad old Master's company. Dobby able to gather everything Mr Dogzard need here with no one seeing. If wizard Aurors come, they find bad old Master's things." Sirius snickered at the elf setting up Lucius Malfoy for helping his escape. Who knew elves were such devious little blighters?

Sirius realized his wet prison garb was gone and he was dressed in soft, warm wizarding robes that had seen better days but were still serviceable. The new clothes felt odd after wearing the same clothes every day for almost a year. A bowl of hot stew sat on a small table within reach of the pallet Sirius was sitting on. Sirius's stomach rumbled in response to the smells.

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "This is perfect, Dobby."

"Dobby just want to make Harry Potter sir happy! Harry Potter sir save the school and the Looney One and then free Dobby from Bad Master even though Dobby not able to keep his promise to find the Great Harry Potter a new family in time!" Dobby started wailing with big tears streaming down his face. "Harry Potter sir is too good to Dobby!"

Sirius was torn between concern the elf's noise would attract attention and amusement at the little guy's devotion to his godson. Merlin, he was worse the Kreacher! If Harry wasn't careful Dobby would start stealing his dirty shorts to snog!

"So, Harry isn't in danger right now?" the escapee asked.

"Harry Potter sir is safe for now. Harry Potter sir makes it that way. Dobby make it so Harry Potter's Dogzard won't be missed from the Evil Place for while so Dogzard has time to rest before going to Great Harry Potter. Now Dobby must go."

The elf disappeared with a pop leaving the bemused … and exhausted wizard behind. Sirius finished his meal before snuggling back into his blankets to sleep.

-V-

20 June 1993

It took the better part of a month for Sirius to really start feeling … well, sane. Dobby's assistance over the previous months was a great start but being away from the 'Evil Place' made an even bigger difference. Dobby continued to provide food and potions to the fugitive wizard. The little elf also gave the fugitive his first shave and haircut in over ten years. The transformation from insane looking fugitive to close cut well-groomed hair with a tight goatee was nothing short of magical.

Dobby also arrived with a box of wands for Sirius to try. "Trophies from bad old master. He not miss from Hidden Place," was all the elf said as he popped in to drop them off.

Sirius went through the box both excited and fearful. He was excited to finally have a wand. But he was also afraid of what he would find.

The fourth wand he tried confirmed his fear. He recognized the wand. It belonged to Edgar Bones. He also found wands belonging to the Prewett twins and another he thought belonged to Caradoc Dearborn. Apparently Lucius kept the wands from people he killed as trophies. The very thought made Sirius queasy two weeks later. Eventually, Sirius found a wand that was a near match for his old one. Fortunately it didn't belong to anyone he'd known from the 'Old Crowd'.

The farm Dobby had taken Sirius was located well to the south in England, near the village of Staplehurst in Kent. The farm seemed abandoned to both magical and muggle use. It was only the inside of the large barn that still seemed maintained. When asked, Dobby only said, "Bad old master use it for emergency storage." Based on the combined Muggle-repelling and privacy wards, Sirius guessed ol'Lucius was using this place for storing black market goods. It amused Sirius to think the wards intended to protect Malfoy's illegal goods were also hiding him from Ministry detection. Have to love the irony.

Today was the first day since his escape that Sirius had left the farm. He needed to find the rat so he could clear his name, but first he needed to do something else.

He needed to check on his godson.

Sirius was able to easily slip into the crowded Staplehurst railway station. It was full of commuters on their way to London. Dressed as an office-worker, no one gave the thin, pale, dark haired man a second glance. Sirius enjoyed being surrounded by people again. He felt alive for the first time in years. And it had nothing to do with the pair of attractive young women standing on either side of him that kept bumping into him as the train wound its way through the English countryside.

-VI-

Padfoot sat in the shade of a large oak tree in a park in the city of St Albans with his tail wagging happily. He'd tracked his godson to a large house in an exclusive section of the city. It had a rather high stone wall surrounding its garden along with some impressive wards. A slight warning tingle informed Padfoot when he'd reached the first wards and that he wasn't an invited guest. So he decided to wait. And now he was about to get his reward.

The sun was starting to set when he caught his first glimpse of his godson. Harry was walking with an attractive young witch of Indian descent. They were talking and laughing as they walked. Padfoot followed them to this park in a particular mix of joy and pain.

Harry's face and hair looked so much like James, except he had Lily's eyes and he was missing James's trademark glasses. Harry's build was much heavier than James. His shoulders were much broader and he looked much more muscular. It was painful to look at that face seeing the reflection of James but he rejoiced in the knowledge this was his pup!

Padfoot watched the barely teenagers stroll through the park. (Actually, Harry wasn't even a teenager yet Sirius realized. Not for another month!) He saw them playing on the swings and sitting on a bench together feeding a swan. He had a wide doggie grin when he noticed Harry's hand creep uncertainly to take the girl's hand and her shy smile in response.

Padfoot's tail was thumping on the ground as he watched the young couple. They'd stopped talking now and kept glancing at each other awkwardly.

"Come on, Harry!" Sirius wanted to yell. "Just do it! She wants you to!"

'Merlin, I hope James and Lily are watching this now," Sirius thought happily. 'I need to get a Pensieve. This will be worth a lot in blackmail!'

'Yes, yes, YES!' the animagus mentally howled as Harry cautiously leant over to kiss the pretty young witch on the cheek. They both pulled back with shy smiles while Harry turned beat red.

It was too much for Padfoot.

The large black dog ran out from under the tree straight for the teenagers. His barking laughter warned the pair just before he skidded to a stop at Harry's feet. Before they could move Padfoot was up on his hind legs and putting his forelegs on Harry's shoulders.

Then the long, wet, sloppy doggie kisses started. Padfoot ignored the boy's protests and attempts to push him away in his excitement. His little pup had his first kiss!

The girl's laughter caught Padfoot's attention. He paused in his licking of Harry's face to give her a long wet lick from chin to hairline. At her squeal of protest, Padfoot gave Harry one last lick before turning on his hind paws to dash off.

-VII-

Sirius knew Wormtail had never been caught after faking his own death. The little rat was always the best of the Marauders when it came to stealth. When they created the Map, Wormtail was the one able to find a way to access all of the really tough rooms like professors' private rooms. Moony was the brains working out the way to get the magic to work. Prongs was their captain, developing the ideas and tactics for their pranks. And Padfoot? Padfoot was the muscle or the one dumb enough to actually put the prank in place.

The Marauders always laughed that Padfoot with his entire family in Slytherin was almost Hufflepuff in his loyalty to the Marauders (particularly James) while Wormtail, with his family in Hufflepuff was the most Slytherin in his cunning and ambition. They had often laughed at this mirroring over drinks. In Fifth year they had actually started handing in their homework with their names as Peter Black and Sirius Pettigrew.

The irony that the Black family would have been proud of Peter's cunning staging of his own death while framing Sirius was not lost on Sirius either.

Padfoot investigated the Pettigrew family home near Shrewsbury. Peter's mum died two years after her son's supposed death. There was no sign the house had seen a visitor in years. The dust was undisturbed. Padfoot sniffed around but didn't catch any hint of Wormtail's scent.

The next stop was Godric's Hollow. Sirius didn't think Wormtail would have stayed there but Sirius's 'old friend' loved to hide in the least likely of places. Wormtail was the only Marauder not caught in the Great 1977 Hufflepuff Knicker Raid. The little rat slipped into Professor Sprout's robe pocket and took a nap while the professors ran about looking for him. So the idea of the rat hiding at the site of his betrayal was not out of character.

Sirius found some sign of a rat in the house. After the Ministry repaired the roof and other damage for the Dark Lord's attack, they made the house into a National Landmark. It looked exactly like it had when Sirius last saw it right down to the pictures on the wall. Only the personal items had been removed to the Potter vault for Harry to eventually claim. Padfoot caught Wormtail's scent leading to the place where James died but nothing going up the stairs to where Lily was murdered and the You-Know-Who was defeated. The scent was several days old but it proved the rat was still alive and probably still in Britain.

-VIII-

The big break came late one afternoon in late August. Padfoot was stalking … er, watching Harry and his friends at the Longbottom estate. Frank had keyed all of the Marauders into the manor's wards back when they had all been members of the Order of the Phoenix. Frank never had time to remove Sirius from the wards and his formidable mother never knew they had been added.

From underneath a bush trimmed into the shape of a dragon, the large dog watched the students at play. He counted at least twelve students along with a smattering of parents also. They were having a 'back-to-school' picnic. Young Neville was the picture of Alice with her round face and wide smile. He'd probably have Frank's build when he was older but his face was so much like his mum. He also spotted a young red-haired girl near Amelia Bones and guessed it was Edgar's daughter, Susan. Poor girl's father is murdered six weeks before she is born and then loses her mother in the last Death Eater raid before Voldemort's fall. Still, Amelia was good people even if having the Head of the DMLE here meant two Auror bodyguards lurking about complicating matters. Sirius also noted three boys that he knew could only be Weasleys when he saw Molly yelling at them.

Sirius watched the kids playing Quidditch. Harry was even more insane on a broom than his father. Lily would be going spare watching him. They should have guessed he'd be great on a broom after James bought him the little training broom that only went a foot off the ground and moved at a slow walk. It even had cushioning charms in case he fell off. However, even with the safety charms the little pup push it to the limit and drive Lily's cat insane chasing it all over the house with the one year-old laughing hysterically.

The Weasley twins were terrific Beaters even though they were playing on different sides for the pick-up game. The seemed to ignore the other players except for Harry and concentrated on knocking each other out; laughing and trading barbs the whole time. Sirius would have enjoyed having them on the Gryffindor team when he and James were Chasers.

But it was a conversation he overheard towards the end of the afternoon that caught his attention.

"… and it was really great the way Smyth was able to hold out in goal even with the broken rib! That must have really hurt but his blocked shot percentage was actually higher than any other point in the game!"

The young Weasley boy was talking animatedly to a tall, distinguished looking man with salt and pepper hair with tanned, wind-burnt skin. The man looked impressed with the Third year's knowledge.

"I was not sure anyone else noticed that," the man commented. "It's not part of the released numbers. It's not unheard of. Sometimes injured players of a certain calibre determined to tough it out actually step up their game. The league actually looked into if it was use of accidental magic but then they saw it was true in Muggle sports as well."

The Weasly boy looked surprised at the explanation. "Do you track Muggle sports?" he asked curiously.

The man laughed. "Well, Quidditch will always be my favourite but I've been known to catch the odd football match now and then. But Muggles have put a lot more resources into studying human motion, physical improvement and rehabilitating injured athletes then we wizards have. Sure we can heal them faster, but getting the body back into peck performance is something else. And even more importantly is training them to move right so they don't get hurt in the first place. Muggles have a lot to teach us."

The boy looked even more surprised. The man seemed to notice it as well.

"Surprised to hear one of us 'dark, evil, Syltherins talking about Muggles this way?" the man asked with some amusement in his eyes. The boy blushed so much Sirius thought he might pop a blood vessel.

"I… I'm sorry, Coach Steven. It's just … it's just … all I've heard growing up was bad things about the Slytherins. And some of it was true! Malfoy is a spoilt git and his little band of followers just make trouble for everyone else. And their Quiditch team just plays dirty! But- but." The boy seemed to wind down. There was a pause and then he sighed. "But Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise don't seem to be like that. I know Daphne was the one that made the potion we used to help Scabbers when he was sick last year even though no one told me."

"Scabbers?"

"He's my pet rat. My brother Percy found'em when he was little. He was missing a toe on his forepaw and it was still scabbed over. So he named him Scabbers. I got him after Percy got an owl for making Prefect his Fourth year; my First. He mostly sleeps all day but he was sick last year and they gave me a potion to heal him up."

The man chuckled at the story. "So, what are you going to do about my daughter and her friends?"

The Weasley boy looked down in embarrassment. "Dad told me to apologize," he almost mumbled. "I tried – but I just can't."

To his credit, the man merely nodded solemnly although the boy couldn't see it. Sirius could see there was amusement in his eyes. "I see. Maybe a note if you can't say the words aloud? I am sure my daughter would appreciate it. You know she was the only other person outside my staff to comment to me about Smyth's performance after his injury? I think she would enjoy having someone to argue Quidditch with."

The conversation continued but Sirius stopped listening. A rat missing a forepaw toe that lived for at least ten years? Common rats didn't live that long even in the magical world. And the Weasley's fit the profile of being a place no one would look for a Death Eater. A family famous for its support of Dumbledore and the Light? A family notorious in Pureblood circles for being blood traitors and Arthur's obsession with Muggle technology? No. No one on either side would look for the little rat there. Nor would they look in Gryffindor tower for an animagus that is supposed to be dead.

Sirius knew the wards at the Burrow would alert the Weasley's if he went there. He was sure Arthur revoked his access from the wards after his escape if not before. Dobby, like all house-elves, was prevented from accessing another family's home unless called for from within the wards. That left just one option.

Padfoot was going back to Hogwarts.

-IX-

29 October 1993

The large black dog was making his way through the dark Hogwarts grounds. The only light was coming from the school's windows. The full moon was in a few days but a layer of clouds blocked most of the moon's light. Padfoot was being careful not to be seen. He didn't want to alert anyone that he was on the school grounds. If Wormtail caught word that a large, black, Grim-like dog was spotted on the grounds he'd probably do a runner. And then he'd have to start all over again tracking him down.

The dog animagus was moving along the side of Greenhouse #4 when the werewolf came around the greenhouse corner. The creature was massive and much more wolf-like than any werewolf he'd ever seen. Danger and power seemed to radiate from the creature and it sent Padfoot's hackles up. This thing was dangerous.

The werewolf made a show of covering its eyes with one massive clawed hand. It raised its other and started to slowly bring in the thumb. When it started on its pinkie, Padfoot suddenly realized, 'Oh crap, its counting down!'

The large black dog shot off across the field as fast as it could go. Seconds later it could hear the werewolf sprinting after it. He started running a wild evasion pattern trying to lose the creature. No one knew the hidden paths and obstacles of Hogwarts like the Marauders. But the creature seemed to know them all also.

Then it caught him.

The massive claw reached out and smacked the Grim-looking dog on the flank. Padfoot yelped in shock and lost his footing. The dog tumbled to the ground but quickly jumped up expecting an attack.

Instead he saw the werewolf sitting on its haunches thirty feet away, its tongue lolling out in amusement. Padfoot panted for breath as his brain tried to catch up. Finally, he realized, 'The damn werewolf is playing with me!'

It turned to leave and looked back as if to say, "Your turn." Then it took off in a ground eating lope. The large dog barked a laugh and started out after creature.

A/N: And that takes us up to the events of the first chapter. Six extra chapters for what was supposed to be a one-shot. The next chapter, Tournament Follies, starts with the conclusion of the first chapter.