'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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♱
'And now my bitter hands cradle broken glass Of what was everything All the pictures have all been washed in black Tattooed everything All the love gone bad, turned my world to black Tattooed all I see All that I am; all that I'll be I know someday you'll have a beautiful life I know you'll be a star in somebody else's sky But why can't it be — Oh can't it be mine?'
Azkaban was something akin to hell. Sirius had hardly any hope for freedom nor a sense of time as the days became one indistinguishable blur of nothing. He sat in the pit that had become his world, the only decorations being his nail marks on the walls.
Years of being subjected to the Dementor's torture left a half-empty shell of a man where there once was a star; He had near lost his mind from the endless ringing in his ears, lost voices of his loved ones and all people he'd missed out on, their lives taken away from his own. There came a point where Sirius yearned for it all to end — he had long since lost that spark behind his eyes, a lust for life.
Sometimes he couldn't even comprehend he was speaking... "My fault, my fault— "
Sirius knew that if he'd had no reason to escape, he would've let himself die years ago. To even think of the man he'd become left a rotten feeling in his stomach. Four thousand, two hundred and eighty-six days he'd wasted away — it couldn't have gone by any slower than he'd been accustomed.
Not a day went by without Sirius losing himself in dreams for the people he'd lost along the way. Had he been been given the chance, he could've forged a beautiful life from all the decay around him. Most had died before truly experiencing life as it were.
Sirius figured that he'd done his time. He'd paid with his sanity, and that wasn't worth half as much as what had been initially taken from him. Now, Peter ought to do his...
Feeling the sanctum of a sinner's mind, a sort of frenzy came over Sirius when he saw his old friend's hidden form splashed on the news. Front page, centred around one of the younger Weasley boys.
He wasn't worried about the oppressive manacles bound to his wrists and ankles — Sirius had been planning his escape for long enough, it had just so happened that something had to snap him from his trance-like-state, giving him the unwitting push towards his godson, on the off-chance he might be in danger. And if he was anything like James, that was a given, Sirius thought.
Rust flickered ingratiatingly from the flesh at his wrists. In the wake of Sirius' departure, he'd found his figure emaciated enough to be able to slip through the bars with little to no toil.
He had no chance of returning, that was for certain — not that he'd ever wish to, but should he be caught once more he doubted he'd be spared so much as a second's prayer. There could be no hesitance, it was either kill or be killed.
His teenage self would've undoubtedly scowled, finding contempt in anyone that dared put him in the same league as his family. Perhaps the prospect of one day being the first to escape Azkaban was laughable enough.
Sirius didn't feel anything but damned, and wondered if he'd ever feel anything more.
He wasn't oblivious to the complete disarray that news of his escape would send the country into, but for the first time in what must've been an eternity, Sirius was thinking of himself. These next few hours would determine the rest of his curious life — should he get as far.
Like counties he couldn't name, Sirius knew there was plenty he'd missed out on. No matter how he mapped it, gaps remained in the youngest Potter's life without him. Sirius struggled to think of James as he once did; for a while, it had been purely guilt, but now, the implication he maybe didn't know his closest friend as well as he thought pained him more than anything he could've imagined.
He was consumed with worry and knew in an instant that he had to see the way his godson had been living, to be close one last time before returning to school. Inconsequential though it seemed, Sirius couldn't wish for much more....
authors note—
A reminder that this book is a (legal!) age gap relationship, and very slowburn, Sirius isn't introduced as a love interest until later on, but it's so important to build on every character in that time.
Also, there will be mentioned/explicit sex scenes and persistent references to mental health/ disorders, death and different types of abuse, (inc. substances). There is a trigger warning at the beginning of such chapters, which are handled as delicately as possible so as not to come across as glamorising. I've struggled with enough of these and what good has come from it is I can say I'm considerate in my works — I don't use trauma as a plot device; I'm writing from personal experience. (A reminder my messages are always open if anyone needs to talk!)
Don't forget to vote and comment throughout; I'd love to hear feedback! Thank you for reading <3
copyright claims—
I do not own Harry Potter; all publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are property of their respective owners (whether that be J. K Rowling or Warner Bros studios) All original characters/ stories associated are either a product of my imagination or non-patented material. No copyright infringement is intended and sources can be provided for any images/ animations used, primarily through Pinterest and Tumblr. That being said, I do not consent to have any of my work translated, redistributed or published elsewhere.
