((These characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Not I, said the goose.))

The thin cigarette hung from his long fingers naturally. Gray eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. Revenge. The only thing he could envision. His mind was racing, as usual. When he actually thought. Thought about him. About them. About the Dark Lord. Sometimes it seemed like he didn't think at all. Long days would go by of nothing and blankness where he couldn't remember even getting up from his sack on the floor. No consolation was found in any part of his cell. Except his cigarette. It was the last one from a pack he'd had for years. The very last one and he meant to savor it. He put it out, savoring the misty feel of the tobacco that swirled through his head and barely calmed the headache that raged behind his eyes.

Sirius Orion Black. Sitting in a jail cell, just like his mother used to say. I hope you're happy, mum. Look at me now. Sitting here in a cell. Your house rotting, and the heir of the Black family dying in Azkaban. I bet you're cackling at me this very moment, old hag.

He pulled out the picture. The last one he was left with. He'd smuggled it in. He, James, Remus and him. Peter fucking Pettigrew. I'll kill that bastard. I swear to Merlin. He'll die by my hand. How dare he?

The white hot fury that was born of the pits of hell coursed through the worn man. He was young. Not over thirty-five, but worn like a sixty-year-old. His dark hair had grown long. Longer than he liked over his time in Azkaban. No haircut was allowed the inmates. No luxuries of outside life. Sirius hadn't seen another human in years. Only the arm that shoved food in his little box. He ate. Getting no consolation from the gruel he was fed, and not having the courage to starve himself.

Laying back on the bed, the dark-haired man sighed. This was life. Life was thoughts and the moans of the Dementors. Sometimes they'd come very close to the cell to torment him. Suck the very life out of the nearly lifeless room.

They zoomed around the inside of Azkaban as well as the outside, which was completely surrounded by water. Not a single piece of land for miles and miles. Only way out was through muggle boat.

Or in a body bag.

The only thing left to do was remember. Remember the hatred. Feed off it. Wait for the day. The day in which Sirius Black would actually kill Peter Pettigrew.

The day he had allegedly, but not really, killed the rat, had been seared into the man's mind for eternity. He couldn't forget. The streetlights of the bar district, with the muggles stumbling around them, thinking of it only as a fight between two drunks. Sirius had stepped forward and called his name. Peter turned around, nervous and afraid of the other man. He asked him how he could do it. Let them die. Their friends. Lily and James Potter. Their little son, Sirius' godson, lived by chance. The first person to live through the Avada Kadavra curse. Nonetheless, he had betrayed them. The dirty rat. Sirius held his wand high, ready to blast him to smithereens. Nobody treated James Potter like that and got away with it. Especially not with Sirius Black around. James had been the only person to give him a chance. He had been his savior. The one to get him from his shitty home live, and into his own which was loving and warm.

Sirius began to breathe the very curse that had been done on his friends. It would have been so easy. He could be in Azkaban for actually doing it. The anger felt like a hot poker being shoved into his temples. His pulse quickened and the rage quadrupled. The dull ache that had tormented him before began to intensify into a stabbing pain as the figurative poker shoved itself deeper and deeper into his skull. His blood must have been boiling. The cold street seemed to be five hundred degrees.

That's when the fear left the rat's face. Sirius had no idea what he was going to do next, but he knew it was bad. Suddenly, there was a loud crack and he had vanished, the muggles around left as witness. Sirius watched the spot where he had been standing to see a rat scurry away leaving a bloodied finger on the ground. By the time he thought to chase him down, he was already gone. Oh how he hated that putrid little rodent. He'd get him. Oh, he'd get him good. Sirius was here, suffering for not only supposedly giving away the secret of his best friend's hiding place, but for killing someone he didn't even get the satisfaction of killing. Of course, he was blamed for it. He'd had his wand out.

Sirius had tried to run. Tried to get to Remus to tell him of it. To try and make his last friend in the world believe that he hadn't committed the crimes he was accused of.

He stood outside the door of the werewolf's house. As if things couldn't get any worse, it started raining. He pounded as hard as he could, but there was no answer for a long time. Finally, the door opened, the chain keeping it from opening any farther and a tearstained, blue eye peeped at the drenched man from the other side.

"Sirius…" He mumbled. "What are you doing here? The authorities, they're looking for you…"

"I didn't do it, Remus. You know I didn't do a damn thing. It was Pettigrew… I swear to you, Moony. You've got to believe me." Sirius wrapped his arms around himself trying to keep the little warmth he had in despite his soaked clothing.

Remus shook his head. "I can't believe that, Sirius. I'm sorry. I've owled them."

"Owled who?" It was that moment that the loud cracks of many wizards made Sirius realize who he had owled. The ministry of magic. "R-remus… You know me. You know I wouldn't do such a thing."

"No, I don't, Sirius. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Padfoot." Remus started to shut the door, but Sirius wedged his foot in it.

"Dammit, Moony! You know me! You know I didn't do it! Merlin! I loved them! They were like my family. You know! In your heart, you know I'm not lying." The members of the ministry were closing in. Sirius could feel it. The sandy blonde on the other side kept trying to push his foot out of the way of the door, but he refused to budge. "Moony! Please just listen! They changed the secret keeper at the last minute to Wormtail. He was the secret keeper. He told He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I promise you. I didn't kill him either. He made it look like I'd blasted him and changed into a rat. I was going to, but I couldn't get the chance. I'm telling you, Moony. You've got to believe me!"

The wizards grabbed him by the arms and hauled him out. Remus shut the door quickly. That was the last time he'd seen him. He missed Remus a lot. And he knew that he was out there somewhere. Maybe he was thinking about him, wondering if he was okay. He hoped that Remus thought it out and believed him. Who would Remus spend his full moons with now? How would he live without his friends that had taken so much care of him? Sirius wondered about Remus most of all.

As he watched the full moon outside of his window, he thought of his dog-form. Padfoot. Such an amazing story. He and his friends had worked so hard to become animagus so they could accompany Moony on his horrible transfigurations. That's where they got the nickname. Moony, for the moon that mocked the poor boy they had given the name. Wormtail for the worm like form of the rat's tail. Prongs for the prongs on the deer's antlers and Padfoot for the pads of a dog's foot. Sirius had always been dog-like. Loveable, loyal, easily distracted and unchangeable. Many girls had tried to "tame" the savage beast that was Sirius Black, but could not. He was too set in his own ways.


Curious. Perhaps if he was truly unchangeable, this hell hole wouldn't have made such a difference. He couldn't help, but think that there was something. Some way of getting out. If he was the Padfoot of yesterday, he could do it. If he had Prongs. He could do it.

But he did have Prongs. He had the stag in his heart, as corny as it was. The one that always took care of him. Sirius got up and walked over to the window. Standing on his tiptoes, he looked out at the miles of ocean and sighed. If only he was the man he was when he had his friends. Before that rat tore it apart. Before everything was ruined. He missed them. Even a small part of him missed Wormtail. The way they used to check out girls. Ditch Wormtail. Change into their animal forms when nobody was looking. How he used to run into the girl's dorm as a dog.

In dog form, Padfoot seemed invincible. He hadn't done it in so long, he had to wonder if he still could. Sirius had been so depressed, he hadn't even thought about doing it, much less, had the strength. He sat on the floor and sucked in a deep breath. Concentrating hard, Sirius willed his body to change. His never-ending headache raged, then began to quell as he seemed to become part of it. Part of his soul. Part of his Patronus. That's when he felt his bones shift. It began to hurt slightly as his spine changed position and his joints moved and creaked. It felt nice. Sort of like cracking your knuckles. It was as if he was leaving something behind. His clothes morphed into fur and clung to his skin until they became part of it. His nose and mouth elongated and became a muzzle. He was Padfoot again.

He turned in a circle and barked happily. The happiness must have brought in the dementors because the heavy stone door threw open and a wispy figure glided in. Sirius began to back up into the corner. The dementor's eyeless face scanned the room. It went right over him. That's it. It must not have seen the dog that was Sirius Black. This was amazing. Another burst of happiness overtook him. The dementor looked at him. Apparently it could feel the happiness, but didn't know where it was coming from. It couldn't see his dog form.

Perhaps he could escape…

((A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for reading. I won't bore you with long author notes.))