All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Return to Hogwarts

Good morning to you, I hope you’re feeling better baby

Thinking of me while you are far away

Counting the days until they set you free again

Writing this letter, hoping you’re okay

Sent to the room you used to stay in every Sunday

The one that is warmed by sunshine every day

And we’ll get to know each other for a second time

And then you can tell me about your prison stay

 

He knew where he needed to go. From the photo in the newspaper, it was all very clear; somehow, Peter had wormed his way into the Weasley family, had made himself a child’s pet. Sirius wondered, vaguely, how long he had been with them—surely, he hadn’t been living as a rat all these years?

Still, no matter; what was important was that Sirius now knew how to find him. Once September rolled around, he knew exactly where Peter would be.

Hogwarts.

It was a long, daunting journey, from London to Scotland. Sirius spent most of it as Padfoot, who was better equipped to handle the strain of travel—he didn’t need shoes, for one thing. Padfoot was also less picky about his diet; he could hunt and eat rabbit raw, or—when he was too weak for that—dig through bins for scraps of food that might have turned his stomach as a human.

He stayed away from towns and cities, following sprawling motorways and road signs. The cars looked different; but then, everything looked different. When Sirius did find himself wandering through towns, all the people were dressed strangely; the clothes were…baggier, more muted. He felt as though he’d stepped into an entirely new world, close enough to the one he’d known to be familiar, but strange enough that he felt the ache of lost time like a constant bruise.

Sirius spent almost no time as a human over the course of the next month. He knew that the Ministry would be in an uproar, likely sending dementors to prowl across the country in search of him. It seemed that even the muggles knew who he was; he saw his face splashed across a few newspapers, and once on a TV screen through the window of a shop.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he finally reached Scotland. It slipped away from him, if he didn’t keep careful track; Sirius found himself drifting into a sort of haze, allowing hours to slide through his fingers like water as he plodded along. In Azkaban, it had kept him from going insane. Or maybe it hadn’t—but it had made the time pass more easily.

The weather was beginning to cool, a chill creeping in with the evenings and settling down each night. As he drew closer to his destination, Sirius decided to risk stopping by what had once been an old Order safe house, just two villages over from Hogsmeade. Padfoot was a hardy dog, but Sirius knew that if he was going to make it through the winter he would need some sort of supplies, warmer clothes…medicine, if he could get it. He tried to make a list in his head, but quickly gave up; thinking about the future felt too much like jinxing it. Besides, Sirius already had one plan to focus on: get to Hogwarts, find Pettigrew, kill him. After that…

He didn’t like to think about what might happen after that.

Sirius spent two entire days scouting the safe house, hiding in the woods that bordered it as Padfoot, watching carefully for any signs of life. Knowing Moody, he would probably be sending aurors to check on all the old safe houses since Sirius’s escape—if he was still working for the Ministry, after all these years.