Inside this House


LiL Pippin Padfoot


Disclaimer: This is based off a song, though it is NOT a songfic, which is band from FFnet.

So, enjoy! (BTW, I will post the lyrics after this one chapter, so you can see where the inspiration came from.)

(It's official, Austin can't take a joke, Trisher)


Sirius was trapped. Okay, he was trapped in a very large extravagant mansion. Most people wouldn't mind something like that, but Sirius did. Sirius hated this house. His father had spared no expense to make this the grandest house, more comfortable than any other. And he had made it all that and more. 'Maybe,' thought Sirius, 'Maybe it would be better if I could totally clean it out.' Even though Sirius knew better than any that the evil that had gone inside the house of Black could never be fully cleaned, it at least gave him something to do.

Sirius sighed as he finished cleaning out yet another cubboard.

"Kreacher!" Sirius yelled as he spied the hideous house elf out of the corner of his eye. "Do not even think that you are going to take anything from that box."

"Me? Never. Always obeys Master's orders." Kreacher gave a slight bow. "Even if master is a dirty blood traiter who allows Mudbloods in the house..." Kreacher continued muttering under his breath as he left the room, after he had grabbed something from the box of items that Sirius had taken out of the cubboard.

Sirius didn't even try to go after Kreacher.

"That's not like you, old friend." Sirius turned to see Remus in the doorway.

"What can I say?" asked Sirius. "I'm going soft."

Remus snorted. "Then how come I don't believe you?"

Sirius shrugged. "I am so bored!" he said, collapsing into a chair.

"I understan-,"

"No," said Sirius. "You don't understand! You get to leave once in awhile. I don't. I have stay here, and sit around this house, this house which I hate by the way, and clean!"

"I believe you chose to clean." said Remus quietly.

"That's because it's better than nothing." said Sirius. "I want to leave. Please Remus, just a little while?"

"Sirius..." Remus contemplated for a minute. "I would if I could, but I can't! Dumbledore said you can't leave-,"

"I'm well aware of what Dumbledore said." Sirius's hopeful look was replaced with a scowl.

"-, Sirius, I can't betray his trust, I still feel bad about you being an Animagus and not telling him. Please, try to see it from my side."

"From your side?" Sirius jumped out of his chair. "From your side, things look pretty good." And Sirius stormed upstairs. Remus assumed to go stay with Buckbeak.

Remus sighed. Sirius couldn't be penned up. Why, no, What was Dumbledore thinking? Dumbledore could not keep Sirius here, in the house he hated with a passion.

Dear Albus Dumbledore,

Remus paused, trying to think of a nice way to chastise one of the wisest men in the world.

I wanted to let you know, perhaps it isn't a good idea to keep Snuffles here.

'This is harder than I thought.' Remus sighed.

Perhaps someplace else would be better for him. We could keep this place, but a dog needs to run, not be locked up in a house all the ti-

Just then, something ran into Remus's knee. Remus looked down and saw Sirius, Padfoot style, collar and leash in his mouth, headbutting Remus's knee.

Remus absentmindly scratched Padfoot's head. That was obviously not what he wanted. Padfoot hopped up, his huge paws on the table where Remus was writing the letter in the kitchen, and dropped the leash and collar on top of the letter. Remus sighed, and pushed them away.

"Sirius..." said Remus. "I can't."

Padfoot whimpered like a pathetic little puppy. Except he didn't look like a pathetic little puppy. He looked like a happy Grim, his tale wagging back and forth, his head on his front paws, looking out from his gray doggie eyes at Remus.

"I can't. No." said Remus firmly.

Padfoot growled, and Remus handed the leash back to Padfoot, who just turned and walked out of the kitchen, tail between his legs.

Remus pushed them to the other side of the table and resumed his letter.

-me. For instance, he just begged me for a walk. A walk I can't give him. Dumbledore, it's killing me as much as it is him.

Remus paused.

He might do something crazy soon. Or I might.

R. Lupin.

Remus took the letter and sent it on the Manor's resident owl, a new one that Remus had bought, a very plain brown owl that wouldn't draw any attention. Remus stood by the window and watched it soar away wishing that he could take all of his and the world's problems with it.

Sirius scowled as he threw a chicken bone to Buckbeak.

"Can't even take me for walk!" he raged. "I mean, this property is unplottable. Do you know what the means?"

Buckbeak tossed his head, and chomped on the bone.

"I'll take that as a no." said Sirius. "It means that no matter how hard they try, unless they know it's here, they can't find it! Rather clever, actually, the only thing I can give my father kudos for. He'd roll in his grave if he knew how his precious house was being used now." Sirius gave a barklike laugh. "Oh, if I could see his face." he said, not so much to Buckbeak as to himself.

Buckebeak gave a sidelong look to his master, who was sitting in a corner.

"Ah," said Sirius. "If I don't get out of here, I'll see him soon enough I expect." and with that thought, Sirius became quiet an sullen.

Dumbledore recieved Remus's letter that night. Dumbledore wondered if Remus thought he was stupid. Of course he knew that Sirius couldn't be locked inside forever. Dumbledore smiled grimly at the fact that even Azkaban couldn't contain him. Dumbledore pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, quill, and ink.

Dear Remus,

In response to your letter,

And that was about as far as Dumbledore got. There was a knock on the door, and Dumbledore hastily moved Remus's paper to a desk drawer, and with a quick turn of a key, (Dumbledore found that sometimes the muggle way worked better, also some one would notice him doing a spell, that made more noise than locking the drawer himself) the paper was locked in drawer.


I've been locked inside that house all the while You hold the key

And I've been dying to get out and that might be the death of me