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cursedmoon-doll13 · 11 months

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Some Kind Of Stranger.

(Sirius x Reader)

Cw: Angst, Smut, Dub/Noncon. Afab reader. Prisoner (also falsely accused) reader and they are having a very bad time™️ Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Comfort Sex in a very uncomfortable place.

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Condemned to rot in Azkaban, you find yourself thrown into a cell already inhabited by a particularly infamous wizard. Perhaps you can stave off the torment together…

Dividers by @/saradika

Your life is forfeit.

Until now, the threat of death never seemed real. Not when you were seized by the officials and dragged before the ministry, not when those cold, sneering faces looked down upon you and sentenced you to a life in Azkaban for a crime you didn’t commit. It was a farce, a bad practical joke. It couldn’t be real.

Perhaps you were simply enduring some nightmare; this was only a dream, you’d soon find your coworker, Mildred, shaking you vigorously - wake up, you lazy git! Do you even know what bloody time it is? - And then, you’d wipe the crust from your eyes, pull on your Honeydukes apron and go back to peddling sugar to those titchy new Hogwarts kids, who shrink more and more each year.

No. It’s now that it feels real. Now, you're forced behind rusty iron bars, stranded in the middle of the ocean, trapped forever. All you can hear is the crying and moaning of the other prisoners, who sob and bay like animals. You’re still frozen in shock.

Then, the panic sets in. Sinking and emptying, like a vast hole has opened up in your stomach. But you can’t even scream anymore; it dies in your throat like a broken whistle. Instead you just cry, sliding down to the filthy floor in a pathetic heap. No matter how you plug your ears, the older inmates howl louder, joining in a cacophony that almost deafens you.

After a while, the din thankfully quiets down. Exhausted, you drift off into uneasy sleep for a few hours, until some damp chill startles you again. You feel numb and heavy. For the first time since you came here, you take in your surroundings, though there isn’t much: You’re boxed into a container of rock, packed like a product. In one shadowed corner, there’s a pulpy grey lump stuck to the wall like mould. You blink away the darkness and realise it is a vaguely human shape: one with filthy, matted hair.

He is a man; or the sordid remnants of one.

He’s wearing the same drab, striped clothing as you, though older and rattier and crusted with grime. For a moment, you’re convinced he’s dead. The idea of being locked in with a rotting corpse flashes horrifyingly through your mind. But then, he raises his gloomy head. He must be waking up, too.

“Hello?” You gently call out to him. Your voice echoes around the room. You scrape your knee on the floor as you crawl over, trying to see him better.

Almost immediately, you regret your decision.

This is a mistake. Oh, god, it has to be.

The prisoner sharing your cell is Sirius Black.

That Sirius Black.

Sirius Black, who once fired off a curse that killed twelve muggles before you. Sirius Black, whose gaunt and hollowed cheeks now recall the skeleton you first believed he was. Sirius Black, who’s gazing fixedly at you now, in awe, as if you’re an apparition.

“Hello,” he echoes back, and his voice is so gravelly that he sounds like he’s swallowed a bag full of glass. His eyes are wide and strangely bright.

“I…”

Your throat constricts.

The panic from earlier almost drove you into hysterics. Now, you’re just a deer in the headlights.

He rises, advancing towards you.

“You don’t look like one of them,” Black rasps. You follow his line of sight towards your empty forearm.

“N-no, I’m not a Death Eater!” You cry, and scramble quickly away. Still, you feel the urgent need to clamp a hand down there. It’s as if his gaze burns you.

“I’m Innocent! I didn’t do it, I swear, I… I… ”

But you’re choked up with tears again. Now the dam is breached, and you can’t staunch the flow. You were so sullen and distant before the actual judges, but as you’re confronted with death at the hands of a possible madman, you’re desperate to prove yourself. It’s all completely pointless, but you can’t help it. You felt it when you failed your N.E.W.T’s, too. The weight of inevitability; the realisation that a door had slammed permanently shut on your life.

You’re so beside yourself, you don’t register how close Black has gotten. Now, you can feel his warm breath tickling your ear, almost pleasantly. But then you flinch, as images of brute, bloody violence force themselves into your head. All you know of this man is that he’s a ruthless killer, that’s he’s…

“Not going to hurt you,” Black tells you. He’s backed you into a wedge in the stone, with nowhere else to turn to but him. You feel like a cornered animal.

“Don’t cry, now,” he says quietly. A bony, shaking knuckle comes to wipe the wetness from your cheek. “If you are Innocent, don’t you forget. It helps not to.”

Don’t Forget… Black’s words solidify in your mind. You swallow down a lump. The scrape on your knee is beginning to sting painfully. You realise it’s bleeding.

“Wouldn’t do to catch an infection here, eh?” He quips. Black clumps together the cleanest strip of cloth he has and dabs at your weeping knee.

You blink owlishly. It’s so starkly conversational, it sounds like it came from an entirely different man.

“Um… No. No.” You sniff and rub your eye; it smarts. “You’re right, It really wouldn’t do.” You glance sheepishly back up at his pale face.

“…Thankyou,” you sigh, and you mean it.

For a brief second, this encounter feels precious. Without realising it, you’ve relaxed so much tension in your tired body. Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation you’ve found yourself in hits you like a ton of bricks. How could you have ever imagined you’d be comforted by a convicted murderer? He’s bent forward, staring intently at you, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. A little too intently.

Black’s tattered shirt gapes open like a wound, and your gaze dips instinctively downward, tracing black-inked, swirling tattoos. His bare chest is coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Black’s hand brushes momentarily against yours, and you hurry to pry your wandering eyes away.

It’s no use, though, because he’s rather caught on. You believe you half-fantasise the ghost of a cheeky smile, twitching beneath his rugged whiskers.

He would’ve been handsome, once. He still is.

“Tell me your name,” Black murmurs, and licks his cracked lips. “I want to know.”

You tell him. He nods faintly, and draws closer.

Black’s grey eyes are half-lidded. He’s leaning flush against you now, breathing huskily, almost clinging to you, like he can’t bear to be apart from your heat. Maybe you’ve already lost the plot - after barely a day here - but the anguished, far-away longing in his expression makes your heart pang.

Eleven years ago now, it must’ve been…

A shrill, unwelcome noise cuts through the silence. Outside, another inmate is shrieking.

Then, the nightmare truly begins: an eerie rattle dragging across the air, knife-sharp, closing in, as certain as death. You realise immediately that it is the Dementors - your prison guards- even without seeing them. You feel them, cold like a sheet of ice, crushing you, inescapable.

You shift, darting your eyes around your cell; you must think of something, anything else.

Your distraction comes in a rush of warmth, cocooning you in a grimy coat. Black has caged you into his arms, and will not budge.

“Stay here with me,” he breathes. His voice is raw and hoarse, pleading: “Just for one moment…”

He shudders violently, and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Black squeezes you so tightly, so desperately, you feel like you’re suffocating.

“Sirius,” you croak out a protest. “Wait, let me go.”

The sound of his own name jolts him out of his panic, but his grip on you remains unrelenting. Sirius turns a sharp glare on you that makes you shiver.

Before, his gaze was fond, almost gentle, but now there’s a hungry glint in his eyes. It reminds you of the starving, feral dogs that roam the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the ones that’d rip your throat out for a mere scrap of meat. No, he may not have tried to kill you, but that doesn’t mean you should’ve let your guard down. You’re powerless to stop him now.

“Don’t leave, don’t you dare leave me,” he’s chanting through dirty, gritted teeth.

“I’m not going to leave, Sirius,” you muster. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay here with you…” The words seem to pacify him a little, and he softens his touch once more. You see again the sad, forlorn expression, and pity floods your heart. He’s a hurt man. A lonely man…

Another frigid spike of mental agony is driven through you, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You no longer have the willpower to resist. He’s so warm, his body wrapped around you like a protective blanket. You can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat underneath his striped shirt, pounding like a drum.

“Help…” He sounds so lost, feverish. “…Stave it off.”

You find yourself nodding, pressing yourself closer to him. He’s right. It hurts you, too, the Dementors’ presence. All you have now is each other. Sirius strokes a clammy hand over your tear-stained cheek, lifts your chin and kisses you. His lips taste salty and bitter, and your teeth clash together clumsily with the urgency of it. You rush to hook your arms around his neck, fingers raking across knots and tangles in his dark, unkempt hair.

Sirius groans heavily into your mouth, bucking his hips. He’s so malnourished you can feel the harsh angle of his pelvic bone jut against you. Something else, hard, twitches fervently over your thigh. He tightens his hold on you before you can react, grasping your thighs and grinding powerfully over your still clothed cunt. You whimper as his heat radiates into you. Sirius doesn’t stop, panting frantically. Maybe he can’t stop. He’s trapped you between himself and the cold, hard stone, and you start to crave friction and relief from him. Something you can focus on that isn’t discomfort or pain. But you’re completely at his mercy in this position, and can only rub your clit wantonly against the throbbing outline of his dick. A low, pleased grumble resounds in his throat, almost canine.

Sirius paws at the confines of your inmate’s rags, and without warning, he forcefully disrobes you. You gasp as a freezing gust of air pimples gooseflesh on your exposed skin, but he’s on you just as fast, You cling instinctively onto his jacket as he hoists you onto his waiting lap. He latches onto your throat with a greedy bite, sucking ravenous hickies down to your collarbone. Sirius rolls a hot tongue over your hardened nipple, and you tug again at his tangled locks as he grazes tantalisingly over it with his teeth.

His hands are everywhere, movements once well-practised, natural, stirred into a lustful frenzy. One comes to pinch at your other nipple, another is slipping past your stomach, down in between your thighs where you’re needy and slick. You can’t help the moan that escapes past your lips as the pad of his thumb circles over your sensitive clit.

For a small, blissful moment, you rock into his palm as he holds you, stifling your mewls into his shoulder as he massages the bundle of nerves there. Oh, fuck, you need him, as much as you need air to breathe. If you shut your eyes, you can almost pretend that you weren’t here; that you are joyful and unfettered, making love to a free man.

“Mm, Sirius!”

Sirius curls another long finger into your wet slit, and you could swear the glint in his eye is smugly satisfied. He pumps mercilessly into your pussy, not sparing your clit from his attention, and it isn’t long before you feel a thrill rippling up your spine; tight, warm pressure building in your abdomen.

But then he seems to grow antsy and impatient. You whine as he pulls his hand away, but he hushes you, pressing a consoling kiss to your temple. The lucid side to him, the one that still cares for your comfort, provides you with his coat to rest your head on. You lie down, shuddering as the frigid air assaults you again. You grab at his rags as he quickly undresses. He’s taking too long, too long…

Sirius drags down the waistband of his slacks and releases the straining hardness of his cock. It’s erect and veiny, leaking precum from an enraged tip.

He’s left you so soaked that he meets no resistance as he buries himself deep into your ready cunt. You groan as you adjust to the girth of him, stretching your gummy walls. Sirius grunts, clutching your thighs so tightly his nails leave indents on the tender flesh. Sweat is pouring down his forehead in rivulets, and you reach up to brush damp hair away from his haggard face. It occurs to you faintly that maybe after such deprivation, this much sensation is overwhelming him. That notion is swiftly dashed as he stutters his hips jerkily into yours, and you squeak out a moan as your nerves jolt with pleasure. You clamp your legs down over his waist, rocking back into him with all the force you can muster.

Sirius is picking up pace faster and faster; he’s had enough of being attentive. He braces you against the thin material of his coat and begins fucking you in earnest, and his rough, sloppy thrusts knock the breath clean out of you. The impact of skin on skin echoes around your cell, drowning out the screams of agony from outside. You arch into him, clawing meagrely onto his biceps for purchase as your shoulder blades burn across the ground.

Sirius growls and grips the back of your neck, lifting you up to pull you into a hungry kiss. His free hand slips down to ruthlessly tease your clit again, and the inescapable power of his body dumbs your senses. It’s a mercy: now all you can feel is him, all you can think of is… The taut razor wire in your belly is threatening to snap. You’re so close now, and it’s like he can taste it, muffling your cries with his tongue as he buckles down and pounds into you.

Then it all breaks, a flash of heat rippling through you like an electric shock. The force of your climax is so strong that you instinctively writhe away from him, but Sirius holds you firmly down and only fucks you harder as you come, rumbling with satisfaction as you spasm and clench uncontrollably around his dick. You can barely comprehend how his movements are faltering, growing increasingly messy and desperate…

Sirius groans hoarsely before he drags himself out of you. His cum splashes over your still twitching stomach in a thick, white rope. He slumps, shuddering out a jagged sigh. Your orgasm lathers over you until it tapers off into a pleasant buzz. For a while, all you can hear is your intermingling breaths, panting in sync. Now that he’s pulled out, you feel strangely hollow and empty inside.

Uncaring of your still sticky belly, Sirius heaves his sweaty body on top of you and smothers you like a blanket. You only wish he could clog your senses, too, so that this reality could fade away. Seeking sanctuary in his warmth, you press your eyes shut and resolve to fall asleep and dream of better days.

Your life is forfeit. Now you will exist without sun, without moon, without food or water. Someday you may forget your own name.

But you will have this. You will have this.

#was trying to write some fun sexy smut then it turns out quite angsty #but for me I think that’s just par for the course #I honestly haven’t read the books in years I just think escaped prisoner Sirius is hot 🤷‍♀️#the wiki is my friend #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black in azkaban #tw dubcon #afab reader #smut #angst #my writing

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dorotheashome · 2 months

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one idea for a hp fanfic - that will never be written, as there’s no way it can work without some characters being very ooc - is Narcissa and Sirius somehow geting stuck together in grimmuld place during order of the phoenix. This will never happen, but the idea has so much potential.

imo Sirius and Narcissa have one of the most interesting black family dynamics to theorise about, because there’s so many interesting ways you can take it. So much angst and potential for tension/anger/feelings of betrayal etc. Some ideas for this scenario;

- Narcissa arguing with Sirius about his complete lack of regard for their house, throwing away ancient black family heirlooms etc.

- Sirius blaming Narcissa for Regulus’ death - my headcanon is, whilst Sirius spent time with the Potter’s, Regulus went to the Malfoy’s. In Sirius’ mind this allowed Lucius to get into Regulus head about Voldemort - what Sirius doesn’t know is Narcissa begged Regulus not to join (even Lucius - more subtly - tried to convince him not to).

- Sirius does a lot of passive aggressive things ie deliberately gives Narcissa Regulus’ bedroom, kept exactly as is, as a way to punish her. Eventually it cultivates to the mother of all arguments.

- Sirius calling her Cissy. I don’t know why but this just makes me go feral.

- back in the day, Narcissa’s father wanted Sirius and Narcissa to get married (relating to his own insecurities, feeling second best to his sister, not being the heir etc). This wasn’t a very popular idea, even amongst the black family first cousins marrying was.. a little too far (and I don’t think traditional arranged marriage was a thing - it was more like, here’s 10 approved people, you choose) but he was really trying to push it (if he can’t inherit, at least his daughter will). Narcissa knew this but Sirius never did. He was 4/5 years younger and by the time he would be old enough to know, it was never going to happen anyway. Sirius reaction would be hilarious if this came up somehow lol.

#sirius black #narcissa black #narcissa malfoy #hp #this is far fetched but so interesting to think about #disclaimer - I prescribe to the hc that Lucius and Narcissa love each other and have a happy marriage #so it wouldn’t be to escape her marriage or anything #ideas I’ve had - Lucius is really really unhappy with Voldemort being back #(which is canon)#and decides to go informant #(which is definitely NOT canon lol)#other idea - bellatrix targets druella after getting out of Azkaban #the order find out and somehow (bonus if andromeda is involved!!) convinces Narcissa and druella they need to cooperate #for their own safety #neither scenerio is very realistic lol #this is wat happens when I re-read Harry Potter lol

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uninspired-choatic-angel · 7 months

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Boyfriends by harry styles is about wolfstar

#specifically remus seeing sirius after he escaped azkaban #siruis black #the marauders #remus lupin #dead gay wizards #harry styles #harrys house #wolfstar

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emlovessid · 7 months

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@wolfstarmicrofic november 8, dappled, 167 words

He knows that he should probably call someone, tell someone. At the very least he should be sleeping so that he can do that tomorrow. But his mind hasn’t stopped reeling since he opened his front door to find Padfoot on his stoop.

Every time he looks over at Sirius sleeping on the couch, he’s surprised to find not the boy who has haunted his dreams for twelve years – longer if he’s being honest with himself – but a man. He knows time has passed, his own hair now dappled grey, but it’s still a shock that Sirius is older and he wasn’t around to see it. Not that it matters, he’s still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, even in the state he’s in.

He sits on the floor in front of the couch, leaning back against it as he closes his eyes. For once he’s thankful for his heightened senses, the steady beat of Sirius’ heart a reminder that he’s alive, he’s safe, he’s home.

#if sirius showed up at remus' after escaping azkaban #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #marauders #sometimes i write things

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quillkiller · 9 months

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quillkiller snippet:)

Mainly because she doesn’t want to scare Bellatrix– or make her flinch again. She’s not entirely sure Bellatrix has even noticed that Rita has gotten so close to her. Rita isn’t used to being soft, not with anyone, but even less so with Bellatrix. She isn’t used to Bellatrix being quiet. She isn’t used to not knowing what to do with her hands.

Once upon a time Bellatrix would show up in Rita’s fireplace, always late at night, and Rita would throw herself at her in lieu of a greeting. Or she would take her hand and drag her straight to the bedroom. They’d claw and scratch and touch before they’d even say hello. Her lips would suck bruises onto Bellatrix’s inner thighs before they’d form words. Her voice would come out in gasps and moans and pleads before she’d ask about Bellatrix’ day.

this one-shot was supposed to be about 2-2.5k words but its over 3k now and not even halfway done………

#unedited btw!!!!!!!!#quillkiller #bella escapes azkaban and the first person she goes to see is rita #yeeeeeeeeeehaw #my fics #fic: i could stare at your back all day

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sinsiriuslyemo · 3 months

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Title: If Only She Knew

Pairing: Sirius Black/MuggleOFC

Rating: R (language, eventual smut)

Summary: When Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban, he had only one mission - get to Peter Pettigrew before Pettigrew could get to Harry. But with a little over a month left before the start of term, he decides to go and visit his godson first. After getting a brief glimpse of the Boy Who Lived, Padfoot, hungry and exhausted, loses consciousness, and wakes up in the home of an American muggle woman. His mission hasn't changed, he just didn't expect to fall in love.

Warnings: none that I know of as of yet. Just language for now.

Notes: I'm posting this as I go, so I'm not sure about any addition warnings as of yet. I'll make sure to make a note of them as they come up. Also, I think this may end up being canon compliant, but I'm not 100% on that so for now, I'll assume it's going to be canon divergent.

Chapter One: The Journey to Near Death

Padfoot was certain he would die even before reaching the South-end shores. After the first six hours, he could barely feel his legs anymore, the water so cold that it pierced his body like a thousand knives. He was just barely able to keep his head above water when his body spontaneously began to warm itself. He didn’t spend much time thinking about how that could be — he had no wand — all he knew was that it was what allowed him to keep swimming. Twenty hours in, however, he began to feel the exhaustion, the urge to stop moving and allow himself to sink, tempting him beyond reason. But despite the burning ache in his legs, the heaviness of his body in the cold North sea, Padfoot refused to stop paddling. He began repeating the name Peter Pettigrew again and again in his mind just to keep himself from giving in, and when he saw land in the distance, a fresh surge of energy reignited his strength.

Finally, after what seemed like a thousand years, his paws scraped along the bottom. His paws dug in to take himself just a bit further until his legs gave out from under him, and he collapsed on the shoreline, the chilled water rushing beneath him and reaching his lips. He tried to stand, but it was no use. He had used up any ounce of energy he could hope to conjure. For a moment, he lay there, looking up at the sky. In twelve years he hadn’t seen the night sky. His star wasn’t in his line of sight, but directly above where he lay, twinkling at him as though proud of his strong swim, was Regulus and far from it, Alphard. He would’ve laughed if not for how exhausted he was.

His legs were like throbbing weights as he army crawled further up on the beach, resting for a few moments halfway before he tentatively stood, his legs like jello beneath him as he slowly walked toward the stilt houses just beyond the shoreline. He could rest better if he had some cover from the bitter winds, but only long enough to be able to get his strength up and keep moving. He couldn’t risk sleeping so close to Azkaban. What he needed most of all was a drink of water, but that didn’t seem like a possibility any time soon.

He tried to shake the sea off himself when he was hidden away beneath the house, but he’d barely had the strength to make it as far as he had. Trembling from the cold, he curled himself into as tight a ball as he could manage and let his eyes fall shut.

He couldn't be sure how long it had been when he woke, still wet, freezing and thirsty. He hadn’t stopped shaking, even in his sleep, and he used what little energy he managed to gain to shake himself violently, getting as much excess water off of him as possible and hoping the rapid movement would warm him enough that he could start moving again and find somewhere dry, preferably warm as well, though he wasn’t getting his hopes up. Coming up to the cement wall behind the stilted homes, he followed it further South until he reached the street behind it.

Where was he?

He looked up at the first street sign he found. Marine Parade and Pleasant Road.

There was a restaurant across the street to the left that was bound to have something edible in the dumpster. Looking both ways, he made his way across the road as quickly as he could and went around to the back of the building. Nosing the front sliding door of the dumpster open, he began to sniff its contents, hoping for some protein but willing to take anything at all. If he had any hope to make it to Hogwarts, he would need to fill his stomach with something and find some water.

He nearly leapt with joy when he sniffed out a half-eaten salmon sandwich, and pulled the scraps out of the dump, scarfing it down in nearly a single bite. Finding water would be a bit trickier unless the darkened clouds above him managed to produce some rain. Then he would just need to find a pothole and wait for it to fill up enough to quench his thirst. The water would be filthy, but it was better than nothing.

A roll of thunder sounded in the distance behind him, the wind blowing away the sandwich wrapper he had eaten out of. Walking further down the street, he came up to the bus stop at the corner and looked up at the map. It would take him at least a day to get to Scotland on foot, and the children wouldn’t be arriving at Hogwarts for at least another four weeks.

It would be nice to see Harry before then. He must be so big by now. Where did Lily’s sister and her wretched husband live again?

Surrey?

Yes, that was right. They lived on Privet Drive somewhere.

Looking back up at the map, he realized it would take him just as long to get to Surrey as it would to get to Scotland, but at least he could take the muggle train from Kings Cross.

His mind made up, he began his journey toward Surrey, keeping his eyes open for any source of water. The muscles in his legs still ached with each step, but he was determined to get as far away from Azkaban as he could get. Even when it began to rain, he kept moving toward Surrey, trying to formulate a long term plan until the start of term. He could live in the nearest park for the next several weeks, at least then he could remain close to Harry, even if he couldn’t talk to him. Living in the wilderness didn’t exactly sound enticing, but it was certainly better than withstanding the Dementors. And perhaps in the meantime, he could work on perfecting his wandless magic.

He managed to find a puddle that wasn’t too dirty near Pipps Hill and drank his fill before continuing his journey West. It wasn’t until he began to shiver so badly that it slowed his pace significantly that he found a porch to get out of the rain. Shaking the water off of himself, he ignored the pang of hunger in his stomach as he laid down and rested. Without visibility of the sun, it was difficult to tell what time it was or how long he had been traveling, but if he were to venture a guess, he would estimate he had been walking about five hours or so. He was still quite a way from Privet Drive — at least another twenty hours. The thought alone made the ache in his muscles twinge.

Maybe he would get lucky and find a muggle with a truck that he could hitch a ride from unnoticed.

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing?!” came a voice behind him as the front door opened, and an older man came outside, shooing him away with a dramatic wave of his hand. “Go on then! Bugger off, you filthy mutt!”

With a whine, Padfoot scurried off the porch, narrowly avoiding the old man’s foot as it swung in his direction. At least the rain had let up a bit.

This time when he set off, he didn’t stop except to find water. He took the A127, got off on Cecil and took the Squirrels Heath Lane. By the time the rain had completely stopped, he was at Romford Rail on Eastern. The sun was nearly gone, the temperature dropping with it, making him shiver on unsteady feet. He looked up at the sign at a corner of the road he was on. The A125 was just up the street off Exchange. He could walk just a bit further and find some food before he kept going. Part of him wanted to stop and rest for the night, but he knew there was no way he would be able to sleep. Not yet. Not until he saw Harry. There was a petrol station just down the way from the corner of Exchange; hopefully they hadn’t yet emptied their bins.

Despite how amazing it felt to be among people again, he was wary of getting too close to anyone. The last thing he needed was a muggle thinking he would make a lovely pet indeed and trying to take him home with them. Or worse, attract the attention of one of the muggle Dog Wardens. The sooner he could get to Harry and see that he was alright, the sooner he could begin to make long term plans for finding Wormtail.

The bin behind the petrol station had so many scraps in it that it was almost like a welcoming feast, only the food wasn’t quite as hot, nor as delicious. But it was better than starving. His head in the rubbish, he nosed through the wrappers and began to eat whatever he could reach. He was enjoying a half-eaten sausage roll when the door around the front of the station opened, and Padfoot — not wanting to risk being seen — abandoned the half-eaten roll, running toward London Rd. He would be on this road for a while, and just as he prepared for a long night on foot, a crimson truck with an open bed turned on to London. If he could just catch up with it, he could jump in the bed and cut his time in half. He just hoped they were going the same way he was trying to go.

His muscles protested in agony as he broke into a run, throbbing and threatening to give out, but he pressed on, ignoring the swell of pain. He was so close, but his jump needed to be precise to get up onto the moving vehicle. With one last push, he leaped as high as he could, and landed with all but his back legs in the truck bed. Scrambling onto it, he moved all the way toward the back and collapsed. Hopefully the driver was none the wiser.

Padfoot wasn’t entirely sure how long he had been asleep, nor had he even been aware of having fallen asleep in the first place. He’d been jolted awake when the truck must’ve gone over a pothole, and peeked out to the nearest street signs. They were moving slower now, and appeared to be on a residential street — Berwick, according to the sign they’d just passed. They were in London.

Waiting until the truck stopped at a red light, he jumped down from the bed and ran. The sun was already out, and with a quick glance at his position, he realized it was half-past ten. If he didn’t stop, he would reach Surrey by nightfall.

Privet Drive looked about as picturesque as he could’ve imagined; cookie cutter houses with perfectly mowed lawns and bright bunches of flowers in all the right places. Even in the dark, he could understand why someone would want to live there. As he approached number four, he could swear he heard shouting, and stayed across the street for the time being, waiting to see if Harry needed help. But from the sounds of it, it might be the muggles that would need help. Harry was screaming at the top of his lungs, demanding that whoever he shouted at stop talking about his parents. Not a moment later, a balloon of a woman came floating out of the back door, into the garden, where she soared high into the sky.

A few minutes later, the front door flung open, and his godson stomped outside, lugging his school trunk behind him. Padfoot froze; the boy was so much bigger than the mere sack of potatoes he’d once held twelve years ago, though unlike back then, Harry was angry.

Very angry. He could feel Harry's rage even from his place between houses across the street.

Padfoot followed his godson, keeping his distance so as to not frighten the boy until Harry dropped his trunk and looked around warily, clearly unsure as to what to do or where he would go. Stepping out of the bushes, closer to the road, Padfoot stayed in the shadows as he willed Harry to get his wand out. It was dangerous for him to be wandering around like this. What was he doing?!

As though he could sense his godfather’s fear, Harry quickly opened his trunk and began rummaging inside, pulling out his wand.

Good, Harry. Lift it. Summon the Knight Bus, they’ll take you somewhere safe.

To his surprise, his godson turned his head, seeming to stare right at him. Fighting the urge to go to him, Padfoot whined under his breath, crouching to hide himself in the shadows, but Harry was still gawking at him, seemingly frozen in fear.

Bright lights curled around a corner as the Knight Bus came barrelling toward Harry, and Padfoot relaxed as relief flooded him. He heard Harry give a fake name, and climb onto the bus. Once they were gone, Padfoot decided to start making his way back toward London. If he could just get to The Leaky, he could hide among the other strays. With any luck, some witch or wizard would take pity on him and give him some table scraps.

How his legs hadn’t yet failed him, he couldn’t be sure. They wobbled with every step he took, and for a brief moment, he considered finding a place to sleep for the night. But it was too dangerous to stay out in the open. He would have to at least get to town, where he could find a skip to sleep behind. Pushing himself along the road, he shook himself in hopes that it would help him perk up a bit. Swaying slightly, his eyes threatened to fall shut, and after a few more steps, the world began to spin. Still, onward he pressed until he tripped, and everything went black.

He was lying on something soft, and warm. A crackle not far from where he laid was emanating more heat into the room.

Room?!

Despite the initial fear that surged through him, his eyes opened slowly, taking in his surroundings.

Yes. He was in a room. A sitting room from what he could gather from the furniture. A twinkle in the corner of his eye revealed a silver bowl close to his head. His nose twitched, sniffing the air, and his stomach growled in response. Chicken!

He tried to lift himself enough to reach inside the bowl, but his muscles protested, legs refusing to budge. Crying softly, he tried to tip the bowl over with his snout when movement behind him made him freeze.

“Are you awake?” The voice was female, and with another sniff in her direction as she came to kneel in front of him, muggle. She seemed apprehensive about trying to pet him, but carefully reached for the bowl, nudging it closer to him. “You’ve got to be hungry.”

He cried again, looking up at her pleadingly. If only he could feed himself, or transform so that he could talk to her if it wasn’t a sure way of getting himself caught. Still he hoped that she would somehow understand him, giving her his long-perfected puppy dog eyes.

His stomach growled again as her hand reached into the bowl and came out with some shredded chicken.

“Don’t bite my hand off, okay? I need it,” she said, holding the chicken in front of his snout.

Tilting his head to one side, he reached and gulped up the bit of chicken she had pulled out, thankful when she reached into the bowl again for some more.

“Poor baby,” she said softly, moving her legs until she was sitting on her bottom. “Let’s just eat a bit more, okay and then I’ll get you some water. You’re so skinny, I wish I could make you a whole chicken and let you go to town, but I don’t want you to get sick. So, we’ll just take it easy for now.”

That accent. She was American. Where the bloody hell was he?!

She hand-fed him the rest of what was in the bowl before standing and moving out of his line of sight. He took the opportunity to lift his head and have a look around. It was a sitting room. Was he in her home?

“I’m just glad I found you when I did. Lying so close to the road like that, you could’ve been killed,” she said as she came back with a bowl of water, which she placed in front of him. “I can get some dog food tomorrow if you want. Any preferences?”

Did she expect him to answer her?

Able to roll onto his elbows, he drank from the water bowl, already feeling a bit better.

“You seem to really like chicken thighs so maybe we’ll just stick with that for now. You can let me know if you get bored with it okay?”

He grunted into the water bowl, hoping that would be answer enough to satisfy her. Looking back up, he finally got a proper look at her. Long blonde hair that fell in waves over her shoulders, and blue eyes behind a pair of dark-rimmed glasses radiated warmth and kindness. Her lips were full and smiling softly at him.

Glancing over her shoulder at the front door, Padfoot slowly got up to his feet, prompting her to stand as well. His legs were still achey, but he knew he couldn’t stay here. It was mad. Kind as she was, he could not be her house pet. He was a wizard for Merlin’s sake, and a fairly decent one at that despite his limited use of magic for the last decade.

His steps were slower than he hoped, and he couldn’t walk without limping, which wasn’t ideal. But it was a better idea than staying and possibly getting himself caught. Or worse, getting far too comfortable. Going to the door, he looked back at her expectantly, raising one paw barely three inches off the ground to lazily scratch at the door.

She looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “You don’t wanna go out there, big guy. It’s supposed to rain again tonight, why don’t you just stay here? It’s warm, and dry… and there’s food and water.”

He tried to scratch at the door again, but it was more effort than he could manage and wound up being much more of a half-hearted stomp. Perhaps she was right. He could at least stay for the night, have a full night’s rest, maybe even have a decent breakfast in the morning, and then set off for The Leaky Cauldron.

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad,” she said playfully, the corner of her lips curling slightly. “Please? I made you such a nice bed, that's gotta be better than sleeping on the street. Besides, if you get yourself caught by one of those dog wardens, and it turns out you don’t have a microchip, then I’ll have to pay fifty thousand quid to break you out, and then we’ll both be homeless.”

Looking back at her, his eyes fell on the bed she had made up for him. It had been rather comfortable, and she did seem keen to give him free access to food and fresh water. The rolling thunder from outside made up his mind, and he hobbled back toward the bed by the fire, laying in his front paws.

The muggle woman slowly kneeled beside him again. “I think you made the right decision.” Hesitantly, she held her hand out toward him. “My name’s Penelope. Most people call me Penny.”

Sniffing at the outstretched fingers, he caught residual scents of the chicken she had fed him and licked at them.

“You didn’t have a collar, would it be okay if I gave you a name? At least something I can call you besides ‘good boy’, you know?”

Instinctively, his tail began to wag at the sound of a dog’s favorite words.

Penny smiled again at him and slowly scratched under his chin. Oh, Merlin, that felt good. He turned his head and leaned into her touch, closing his eyes as his tail now thumped against his bed. His eyes closed as she scratched behind his ear. Yes, that was quite nice.

“So what should we call you?” she asked, now giving him long relaxed strokes over his head.

Padfoot rolled onto his back, waving a single paw in her direction. She had seemed to understand him before, maybe she would be able to again.

Padfoot, he thought to himself. You can call me Padfoot.

She chuckled softly, scooting closer to sit beside him, scratching his belly. “Those are some big paws you got there. What do you think of Bigfoot?”

He groaned, half from the lovely belly scratches he was getting, half from his approval of the temporary name. It was close enough to his true name that he could live with it for the night. His tongue lagged to one side of his snout, and a doggy grin formed as her scratches found the spot, making his back leg kick in delight.

“You like that?” she asked, her scratches speeding up, and by proxy making his tail wag harder. Laughing softly, Penny gave him a few long pets on his chest before pulling her hand away. “Okay, buddy. Why don’t you get some sleep, I’ll give you some more food in the morning.”

He rolled back onto his elbows as she stood and went to refill his water bowl, leaving it beside him.

“Wake me up if you need to use the bathroom, okay? I’m just down the hall. Second door to the left.” She pet his head one last time. “Good night, Bigfoot.”

#sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x ofc #escape from azkaban #harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban #sirius black x muggle ofc #canon divergence #i think?

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cr-amber · 1 year

Text

for the @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: foe.

When Remus wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of his front door opening, his first sleep-muddled thought is “friend or foe?” He sits up and grabs his wand, gearing up to face whoever, whatever it might be. Despite the news, he's shocked when it’s Sirius who tentatively pushes open the door to his bedroom, hands raised. He'd thought friend or foe, he never expected lover.

70 words!

#wolfstarmicrofic #wolfstar drabble #my writing #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #this takes place after sirius escaped from azkaban #ofc he had to come visit remus immediately #wolfstar microfic by car #microfic by car

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violetthistle1 · 3 months

Text

*Albus pays an unexpected visit on Remus after Sirius escaped Azkaban and asks a favor*

"I know the job comes with certain…”

“Perils?” Remus supplied when Dumbledore trailed off.

“I was going to say challenges.”

Remus laughed, because it was ridiculous. The position was cursed, everyone knew it. You would have to be desperate to take that job. Aren’t you though? Desperate?

“I know it’s asking a lot, but it would only be for a year. I know you are more than capable of the position, that’s not a question.”

“Isn’t it?” Remus couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t exactly have any teaching experience. His last four jobs were minimum wage and had each ended in less than three months.

“Of course not! You came top of your class in the subject, and your practical experience is extensive. You survived the war, you survived the pack.”

Remus cleared his throat and glanced at Grant. He didn’t talk to Grant about the war. He didn’t talk to anyone about the war. “My greatest achievement. I survived.” He took another gulp of tea. It burned his tongue. He didn’t flinch.

****

Desperate for a Reason, excerpt 9

A Prequel chapter to Dignity be Damned

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53697217

#remus lupin #albus dumbledore #dumbledore stops by to ask a favor #remus has had about enough of dumbledore #remus doesn't put up with his antics #remus finds out sirius escaped #he doesn't take it well #pre-prisoner of Azkaban #fanfic #wolfstar adjacent

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pandemoniumskey · 2 years

Text

Believe Me - Sirius Black X (fem)Reader

Sirius Black was out of Azkaban... You reread the front page of the Daily Prophet for the seventh time, looking at the wild face of the man you once loved so dearly. No, the man you STILL loved so dearly. It couldn’t be true and yet here his face was raving on the front page of the mornings paper.

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach: the first thing you thought of was Harry. The boy who knew nothing of what that man did, the boy who would soon be faced with the tragedy of loss and heartache and even possibly fear. Was he safe? Would they catch him before another tragedy happened? Could you stand between Sirius and Harry if the situation arose and hurt him? Or would your love for the man fail you and cause Harry harm?

These thoughts did not last long however as a small owl came flying into your house. You took the note from the owl and it waited there for you to read it.

You nearly dropped the small piece of parchment on the floor. You knew that hand writing well.

(Y/N),

I didn’t give Voldemort James and Lily’s location. I wasn’t the secret keeper. I have a lot of explaining to do, I know this. Please, please, please allow me to meet with you so I can explain it to you face to face.

I love you so much. Send your reply through this owl.

Padfoot.

You didn’t know what to do. This had to be some sort of trap. Your heart was racing a million kilometres a minute and your brain was telling you it was a bad idea. Yet, your heart yearned to see Sirius again. It yearned to feel his love again.

You had never recovered from that horrible loss. You never fell in love again and you still often had dreams where he was telling you that James and Lily were never murdered and that everything was all right.

You knew the second half of that was never going to happen.

You wrestled with your mind and your heart. Did you meet him and potentially die, or did you not meet him and allow your heart to shatter again knowing you had the chance to see him and did not take it.

You made up your mind, taking a spare piece of parchment from your desk and writing a simple message on it.

My address never changed. Come after dark.

Were you really going through with this? Were you that crazy and desperate? The answer was yes. You craved his touch and the sight of him so much that you would risk dying for it.

You thought a moment longer before tying the note to the small owl and allowed it to leave. Your heart was thundering in your chest. Did you just make a big mistake?

***

You heard the tap on your door before you even had time to settle in for the night. You opened it and saw a great black dog standing on the front step.

“Get inside quick.” He scampered in quickly and you closed and locked the door, taking out your wand and placing a simple spell on the door to keep it from being penetrated so easily.

“Get talking Sirius, you have 30 minutes. If you haven’t convinced me of your innocence by then, I am calling the ministry,” you muttered before he even had time to transform back into a human.

“Oh God, (Y/N), I’ve missed you so much,” he said through a sigh. He looked ill and wild, but his eyes still sparkled with the love you remembered he held for you. Your resolve almost cracked. Almost.

“Times ticking.”

“All right, all right, where to start?”

And he told you everything. How he had convinced his best friend to change keepers to Pettigrew at the last minute and it was he, who betrayed them. How he had gone after him in grief and in rage to actually kill him and how it had failed miserably. His capture and confession to the ministry and how he meant James and not Peter, “in a way, I am guilty for his death, I should never have done that.”

He eventually moved into how her least favourite friend was stil alive and living with your godsons best friend Ron. He showed you the evidence and you were shocked. A pit of rage emerged inside you and you felt that wild need to kill Pettigrew yourself.

Finally, he told you of his plans to kill him and you silently agreed that it needed to be done.

In the end, you found you were sitting on the edge of your seat, holding your breath. Tears streaming from your eyes.

“All these years I thought I lost you forever,” you said quietly. “All these years of thinking you had them killed and it wasn’t you.”

Sirius looked at you, his eyes were pleading, “so, you believe me?”

You nodded and the relief flooded his face. He came towards you kneeling between your knees. The wild look gone, instead love took its place.

“Is it okay if I kissed you? I have been dreaming of your touch for a very long time,” his voice was a whisper.

“Can you believe I’ve wanted the same?”

He chuckled and his lips soon met yours in a soft loving kiss.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part two, yay or nay?

#sirius x y/n #sirius #sirius x you #sirius orion black #sirius x reader #post azkaban sirius #harry potter #harrypotter #x reader #animagus #escaped prisoner

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endinsosuddenly · 1 year

Text

you kicked and cried like a bullied child (a grown man of 25)

chapter one - oh god theres a creepy man in a bush oh GOD

sirius isn’t very discreet

this entire fic was inspired by an artwork by @hannahyesss ! their artwork is amazing please go check them out - please enjoy and excuse the awful writing

ao3

___________________

Harry was sprinting down the street, he could hear his trunk behind him, (and feel it, as it would occasionally nip at his heels.) His hurried breaths seemed like sirens throughout the otherwise silent street. Vernon had knocked the wind out of him earlier, his chest was screaming at him to stop and sit. The cement under his feet seemed like sand as his legs started to ache. sight. He can hear Aunt Marge screaming from above, but he ignores it. He’s running, and running, and finally finds his way next to a playground.

Listening to the screaming in his chest, Harry sits on the sidewalk and glares moodily at the bench and greenery across the street. Harry’s heart is still racing from everything that just happened. Aunt Marge making his skin bubble with the kind of rage he’d never seen, her blowing up, Uncle Vernon putting his hands on him and Harry finally, finally, running away. After seeing her blow up, Harry ran up to Dudley’s Second Bedroom, packed as fast as he’d ever packed, and changed faster than he’d been running moments before.

He was bouncing his right leg up and down, and feeling the wind woosh by. His stomach started to tighten as his situation was dawning on him. The bushes and trees rustling in front of him, and rain dropping down into puddles from the wet playground behind him. Harry could hear cars and honking in the distance. The rustling starts to get a little louder, the wind dying down slightly. Harry is put on edge as he hears the rustling in front of him start to get a little violent and he stands, hurriedly.

Stupidly, he walks a bit closer. Convincing himself it could be a rabbit or maybe even a stray cat. Harry takes his wand out from his pocket and holds it by his side in a defensive stance. The rustling gets louder and Harry squints to see if he could identify whatever was in the bush.

He’s staring into the green void and leaning closer, he sees two eyes looking back at him.

A dog? No. A human.

And then suddenly the greenery is pushed aside and a man is standing in front of him. Not just any man, no. The man that was on the news earlier, the murderer, who (supposedly) has a gun. Who’s supposed to be ruthless, but is staring at Harry in shock and awe.

It clicks. “AH! Holy shit!” And out of reflex his fist thrusts forward and into the man's nose.

The man makes a sort of yelp sound and, holding his nose, looks back at Harry and his terrified expression. “Harry! Wait, wait, wait! I’m not here to hurt you!” And despite his aching nose, the man puts his hands up, trying to desperately show Harry he’s not in any danger.

Harry’s running on adrenaline and fear, “Wow! So convincing!” He steps back and his wand makes its way in front of the man's face. The man, who Harry now notices is covered in grime and in a.. Prison.. Outfit. Which definitely isn’t helping his case. The man's hair is long, just past his waist and slightly damp, he looks frail and is covered in tattoos. Harry recognizes some of them, from research during the past two years at Hogwarts.

Noticing his eyes wandering, the man speaks up, “Listen, Harry. I..” He swallows,”I’m really not here to hurt you, I don't even have a bloody wand!” At that, Harry searches the man with his eyes and realizes, he doesn't in fact, have a wand. Harry is shocked the man knows about wands and magic when he's supposed to be a muggle criminal. He was on the muggle news just a couple hours ago.

Harry stares at him and pauses, then questions, “Then why are you.. In the bushes, watching me??” Harry gives him an incredulous look. “It’s complicated.” The man looks at his hair then away. Harry scoffs, “Ok, that’s not really an answer.” He looks back at Harry, “You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

Thinking back on the last two years and everything that's happened, Harry rolls his eyes, “Try me.”

The man sighs,” I was best friends with your father.” Harry’s eyes widen and his wand falters a bit in his hand, despite that, he continues, “James was like my brother, and when you were born, he named me your godfather. I was.. Falsely imprisoned for 13 years the night everything went down.” At the end, the man's voice gets small, almost a whisper, and so does Harry’s when he squeaks out a single, “What?”

He smiles at Harry, a warm smile, “I tried to tell you when I said you wouldn’t believe me.” Harry still stares at him, but lowers his wand. If this man was really a mass murder, then why hadn’t he killed Harry already? He, allegedly, had a gun. It wouldn’t be hard. Harry goes with his gut and lowers the wand, and as he lowers it, the man lowers his hands.

“I know this must be a lot to take in, and it’s okay if you don't believe me. I didn’t even mean for you to see me.” He says to Harry and has a sympathetic look on his face. “I don’t really know if I should believe you, but if you wanted to kill me, you probably would’ve already done it. We’re alone and it’s dark outside, it would’ve been easy.” At that, the man looks a bit disturbed, “Well.. you won't ever have to worry about that.” He smiles again.

“I think since you already know mine, it would be fair for me to know your name. Then we won't be strangers.” At the word strangers, a strange sadness crosses the man's face.

“Sirius. My name is Sirius Black.” The man, Sirius, looks at Harry with an odd emotion Harry can’t place. “Ok. Good to know.”

Silence for a moment, the wind rustles along with stray leaves.

“So.. are you.. on the run?” Harry’s wand lays limp at his side while Sirius looks at his shoes.. Well- the lack of shoes, but at his voice, his eyes snap back up to Harry. “Yes, I saw someone in the paper. Someone who.. It’s a very long story, Harry. But, looking at him brought back a lot of emotions.” Sirius looks at him and he can see a brimming rage beneath his eyes that slightly unsettles Harry, but it’s not directed at him and that’s really what sparks a flicker of trust. Anger that wasn’t directed at him was rare.

Although still untrustful, Harry can’t help but sense a familiarity. Like when someone tells you they used to babysit you, even though you don’t remember them, there’s a foggy memory anyway. That feeling is very rare to Harry, never really meeting anyone who’s been close to his family in a way that mattered. Sure, people mentioned them in passing and compared him to his parents but never anyone he could remember, even if foggy and very slight.

Harry can hear Hermione’s insistent voice in the back of his head saying, ‘Harry! He’s a convict, you can't trust him! Think about this.’ But he can also hear his own voice saying ‘This man could be a link to your parents. This might be worth it.’ And so, as per usual, Harry tunes out Hermione’s voice,”Come on.” He motions to Sirius to follow him, and turns around to see Sirius standing there in shock, “C’mon!”

At Harry’s command, Sirius picks up his feet and follows the boy, “Where .. where are we going?” Harry stops short, because to be honest, he’s not sure. Sirius almost slams into him, due to Harry just stopping, and the boy stops to think for a second.

His aunt and uncle most likely have gone to look for Marge, they're probably driving around hollering for her, and despite his wishes, Dudley probably would’ve gone with them. And last year, when Dobby had done accidental magic, no one had showed up at his house, so Harry thinks he's safe there. But, there was nowhere else they could really go, especially not with Sirius being a convicted criminal, currently on the run. Harry began to panic slightly, it was either the Dursleys or nowhere.

“I don’t know. There’s nowhere we can really go without people recognizing you.” Harry swallows and looks over to Sirius, who has an amused look on his face. ‘What?”

His question is answered when suddenly he’s watching Sirius’ body transform and instead of Sirius standing there, there’s a dog. “What.” He’s staring at the black dog in front of him in complete shock, and then he blinks and Sirius is once again standing in front of him. “What.. what was that???”

At that, there’s a surprised look on Sirius’ face. “You don’t know what an animagus is?” Harry shakes his head, “Surely someone must have told you..?” Sirius looks confused.

Harry shrugs,“They never taught us about them in school.”

“They’re not.. common but they’re not incredibly rare, either. All these years living in the magical world, you’ve never heard of them?” Sirius has a troubled look on his face.

“I was really only introduced to the Wizarding World 2 years ago, Sirius. My aunt and uncle never really said anything or let me learn anything about it before I went to Hogwarts.” Harry says, casually.

“What.”

Confused, Harry continues,”They weren’t too keen on anything magical, so…”

Sirius rubs his hands down his face,”Okay um.. We’ll talk about this.. Later. For now, we can’t just stand out in the open.”Sirius starts mumbling, “I always knew Petunia and Vernon were complete assholes but Merlin…”

And that cements it in Harry’s mind, someone actually acknowledging that his relatives are horrible, and the fact that Sirius actually knew. This means he.. Sirius knew Harry’s dad but he also knew his mom. “You’ve met them?”

“Once, it was very unpleasant.” Harry stares at him in awe. But is shaken out of it when the wind starts to pick up again.

“We should go,” Harry thinks of a split second plan,”Okay, you’ll transform and we’ll go to my aunt and uncle's house. We’ll give you a .. makeover or something, definitely cutting your hair, so you’re not as recognizable and then .. I don't really know. We'll figure it out.” Harry’s hands are swinging around as he’s talking and Sirius is nodding all the way through, “Okay. Decent plan, better than any I've got. We should go, before someone sees us from outside their window.”

Harry nods and grabs his trunk, Sirius transforms, and they're off.

As they’re walking, Harry can’t help but help but think about how weird this all is. He’s helping a convicted felon, who (apparently) is his dad’s former best friend. Who can transform into a dog. His mind races with ‘what-ifs?’ and thoughts of Sirius deceiving him. But before he can convince himself this was a bad idea, they arrive on Privet Drive, and Harry spots number 4.

“Ok. Their car is gone so they must be gone. Vernon’s car is always loud when he pulls in, so we’ll know.” Harry tries the front door and groans when he finds it locked. “Here, come on.” He mentions Sirius to follow him to the backyard. Harry climbs over the fence, having years of experience due to running from Dudley and his friends.

Once over, Harry unlocks the large gate door and lets the dog in, then grabs his trunk. Dudley sneaks out at night to go do God knows what with his friends, so he always puts a key under the backyard mat on their porch. Making it around, Harry reaches under the mat and pulls out the key, then unlocks their backdoor. Motioning Sirius to go first, Harry follows, puts the key back then locks the door behind him when he walks in.

Harry stops for a minute, Sirius goes still as well, and once he hears nothing, he knows Dudley left as well. Vernon and Dudley aren’t exactly subtle or quiet, and Petunia follows her Diddykins whenever she can so Harry knows it's safe to talk as they please.

Harry makes sure to close the blinds and curtains before turning back over to the dog, “Okay, were good. You can turn back to a human now,” and Sirius does so.

“Are you sure they’re gone?” The man's eyes flicker up towards the staircase, cautious. “Yeah, they aren’t exactly subtle in any way. And the walls are thin, so yeah, we're safe.” Harry advises him then remembers what they’re here for.

“Okay, come upstairs with me and we’ll start looking for clothes.” Sirius nods and follows Harry as he leaves his trunk downstairs and they make their way upstairs. Harry takes light steps, and so does Sirius. Always running on cautious energy. Harry reaches for his aunt and uncle's room at the start of the hallway and pushes open the door, blinking in the darkness of the previously closed room.

Reaching in and flicking the light switch, Harry takes in the very dull, very boring room. With only a dresser and a bed, accompanied with nightstands by the sides. Harry moves over to the dresser to pick out some clothes for Sirius, “I think your clothes would fit me better than your uncles.” Sirius chuckles slightly, while taking in the dull room. “Trust me, I’ve only a handful of clothes that aren’t my Hogwarts uniforms or Dudley’s second-hand clothes and I don’t think they would fit you, you’re way taller than I am.”

Sirius frowns at this, deeply and before he can get out a question, Harry finds a decent outfit. “Aha!” Harry holds up the bland, blue, button down shirt and a pair of beige slacks, “Here.” He hands them over to Sirius, while turning around to look for socks and shoes.

Sirius holds up the clothes with a very distasteful look on his face, the shirt is smaller than he thought, “Is this shirt really your uncles? Last time I saw Vernon.. He definitely looked.. Well..” Harry lets out an amused huff, “No, it’s my aunts. I thought it would fit you better than anything Vernon has.”

The man laughs, “You’d be right.” After rummaging for a little bit more, Harry finds some black socks to accompany the outfit and next to the dresser, a pair of his uncle’s loafers. Then Harry grabs a belt that was very poorly thrown onto their dresser.

“That should be good.” Sirius looks over the clothes and grimaces, “Definitely not my usual style..”

Harry deadpans, “I don’t really think you can complain about clothes right now.”

Sirius, still grimacing, nods, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Before Sirius can say anything else Harry intervenes, “You should shower first, you still have.. grime all over you. Plus, it’s easier to cut wet hair.”

Sirius nods, “Could you show me to the bathroom?” Then Harry nods and motions for him to follow. As they walk out of the bedroom, Harry turns off the light and closes the door as if nothing happened. Harry walks across the hall and opens the bathroom door, walking in, he squints after turning on the bathroom light and seeing the bright white light. The bathroom is small, with only a toilet, a bath that can also be a shower and a sink with a mirror that has a cabinet when you open it, but also very dull and plain. It’s mostly white with only a couple baby blue accessories to give it some color. “Here, one second.”

Harry walks out of the bathroom and turns right to the very end of the hall, now facing a closet at the very end. Their linen closet is filled with towels and other various household supplies. Grabbing a towel, Harry then turns back into the bathroom and hands it to Sirius. “Thanks, Harry.” Harry nods in a ‘no problem,’”I’ll leave you to shower. I’m gonna go and watch out, in case they come back.” Sirius nods and smiles at him. Harry smiles back as he closes the door.

This gives him some time to think, and as he hears the water run, he goes into his ‘room’. Peeking out the window Harry gets lost in thought. He thinks about the upcoming year and what he’s going to do. Someone must know that he’s run away by now, and Dumbledore definitely knows. He wonders if he’ll be expelled or worse for performing magic while not in school, but Harry doesn't know the Wizarding laws that well, so it causes him to further panic.

Harry also doesn't know what he thinks about the man he basically is helping run from the government. There’s no way for him to really confirm that Sirius isn’t lying to him to try and .. kill him. But somehow he doesn't think Sirius is like that. Harry paces his room, thinking about questions he could ask Sirius to confirm his claims, but it’s hard when Harry himself doesn't know anything about his parents that's not common knowledge.

Harry didn’t notice the shower stopping minutes before, too lost in thought about what he’s gotten himself into, so Sirius’ voice sounds louder than ever, “Harry?” The boy in question flinches, “Shit! Sirius, you scared me.” At that, Sirius smiles in apology, and Harry takes a look at the man.

He’s dressed in the clothes Harry gave him and it makes him look a lot different. Sirius is clean now, no longer covered in leaves and grime. The button down fits him well, while the slacks are a bit big and they are a bit on the floor, Sirius’ long legs make them seem smaller than they are. He has the button down pulled up on his forearms and 3 buttons undone, giving Harry a good look at his tattoos. He’s holding the shoes in one hand while the socks are on his feet. The towel is hanging from Sirius’ forearm. The only thing keeping Sirius from looking like an ‘upstanding citizen’ is his long hair, now wet but still past his waist, and the very prominent ink on his body. Harry realizes his aunt and uncle could be back at any time, “We should hurry to cut your hair, they could be back soon.” Sirius nods in agreement, “Right.”

They make their way back into the bathroom where it smells damp and the air feels moist from the hot shower, “You look different this way,” Harry says, mostly absent-mindedly. “How so?” Sirius responds, then chuckles when Harry answers,”Well, you don’t look like a criminal anymore,” then he reaches out and touches a piece of Sirius’ hair,”Well, except for the mop.” Sirius lets out a bark of laughter, which causes Harry to flinch back slightly, “Sorry, sorry.” Still chuckling slightly, Sirius apologizes for scaring the boy.

“You should sit down on the toilet, it’ll be easier for me to reach.” Sirius nods, and while Harry opens the mirror/cabinet above the sink, he sets down the toilet lid and sits. Finding nothing, Harry huffs in frustration. “Wait here,” and before Sirius can respond, Harry is rushing downstairs to get the kitchen scissors. Which, he should’ve known he would have to use those, Aunt Petunia always cuts his hair with kitchen scissors. Well, it’s more Harry cutting his own hair now, God knows if Harry were to let his aunt she would shave all his hair off just to embarrass him. Grabbing the scissors, Harry rushes back upstairs.

Harry enters the bathroom, “Okay.” He sighs out,”Let’s… let's do this.” Standing in front of Sirius, Harry looks at him to see what he wants to do. Sirius cuts off his train of thought,”Do I get any say in the matter of my own hair?” Harry can hear the amusement coming from the man's voice. “Oh, is there a specific hairdo you wanted, your highness?” Harry puts on his most posh English voice possible, which causes another sharp bark of laughter to erupt from Sirius. Harry doesn't flinch this time. Sirius chuckles out his response,”Haha, that was great. But I do have a request.”

“And what would that be?” Harry raises his eyebrows, hoping whatever Sirius asks for he can provide,”I still want to keep it long, could you cut it shoulder length?” Harry internally sighs in relief,”Yeah, I can do that.” Sirius smiles at him, “Great, thank you.”

Harry examines the man for a bit longer, trying to figure out how to make it work. He’s not a barber, but cutting his own hair for years has given him some experience. He takes turns cutting little snippets of Sirius’ hair, making sure to make them all even. During this, Sirius speaks up, “I just wanted to say..” He sighs out,”Thank you. For believing in me, for helping me.” Harry falters a bit, at the sudden heartfelt thanks but continues cutting,”All these years, I thought that, no one would ever believe me. But…” His words get softer, and waver slightly, “You took one look at me and decided to believe me. Thank you, Harry, really.”

Harry’s shocked, partly because this was so sudden and part because no adults ever really spoke to him like this. Sure, his teachers (well.. some) were nice to him, and Dumbledore was always kind, but never this heartfelt.

“It’s.. It’s okay. You're welcome.” Harry manages to choke out while continuing to snip parts of his hair. Sirius smiles at him and Harry is now cutting the front of his hair. Making his bangs look like curtains in a way, but after he’s done with the bangs, he speaks again, “I think you’re done.” Harry reaches back into the cabinet/mirror, and pulls out a compact mirror, then hands it to Sirius. “Here you go.”

Sirius looks shocked,”Wow.. You.. you actually did a pretty good job.” Now, with the haircut, Sirius looks normal. He looks younger and fresher than he did before, his hair now framing his handsome face and sitting at his shoulders. Sirius’ wet hair is starting to curl and Harry notices a little white streak that runs through it, and decides to ask about it later.

“Surprised?” Harry says, very smug. “Very,” Sirius responds in awe.

After examining himself in the mirror, Sirius hands it back, and then Harry puts it back in the cabinet. Sirius sighs and Harry looks at him, “We should..” Sirius looks around,”We should go to Gringotts. I need money, and we can stop by Grimmauld.” Harry opens his mouth to ask what that is before Sirius intervenes,”But. Harry, I want you to think about this.”

Sirius stands up from the toilet and Harry looks up at him. “You don’t have to come with me. Just what you’ve done for me now is enough. I don’t want you to risk everything for me, but if you want to come, I won't stop you. Please, Please, Please.” He looks at Harry, intensely and sincerely, “Please think about this before you decide.”

Harry struggles for a minute, but not for long. Sirius is weird, and he treats Harry with genuine kindness. Sirius is his dads best friend. He’s giving him a choice. Sirius is giving him.. A choice. “No, I’m coming with you. I’ve made up my mind.”

Sirius smiles in relief, “Okay. Good.” They look at each other for a moment before Harry is shaken out of his thoughts, realizing that his aunt and uncle are probably going to be here soon. “We should go, like. Now.” Harry says, in an urgent voice.”

Sirius nods, looking determined and ready, “Alright. Off to Gringotts.”

#sirius and harry #sirius black escapes azkaban #sirius orion black #sirius black #godfather sirius black #padfoot #harry potter #hp fandom #harry potter can and will fistfight you #you kicked and cried like a bullied child (a grown man of 25)#chapter one #harry james potter #prisoner of azkaban #wizarding world

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