5

Chapter 5: VSummary:

Kakashi gets his first taste of magic and Sirius thinks everything's ruined.

Notes:

Apparently I posted the last chapte a few days early.

Anyway, Happy New Year.

It's time to let our two favorite dog peope meet. I hope you like it. (Also I tried uploading before but it didn't work... so if it's an accidental double upload, I apologize.)

Chapter Text

In his dream, he was back in Azkaban. He wasn't sure if it was the idea of the collar, or the reminder of who he was, whether it was the fact that he now had confirmation that they were of course hunting for him… or the knowledge that they knew where he was.

Of course, they knew! Surely, they just calculated the waves and guessed where he might have been washed ashore. For a week, he had played this innocent little game. He'd played the boy and his dog with Kakashi. He'd craved his kindness, his caring…

But he didn't deserve it now, did he?

Had he lost the goal out of his eyes? And what even was the goal?! Was he so arrogant? He didn't really believe that he could fight the entire nation, that he could get past the dementors, and passed the aurors, passed the teachers, Hogwarts' very own security mechanisms, and Dumbledore himself. They all knew him guilty. And wasn't that what he was? Guilty of being a fool…

The most secure place in all of Great Britain, and he… what a fool he was.

He was back in Azkaban. Shackled, manacled, collared like an animal. Peter would kill Harry, and Remus and everything Sirius still held dear. He wouldn't be able to protect anybody. Just like he hadn't protected James and Lily. He'd die hated, a traitor, a murderer, his best friend's killer! A fool.

He could smell them. He could feel the cold creeping into his bones. Dementors standing vigil in his dying moments. The only ones who cared to see him off. Once back in their grasp, they wouldn't let him go again. The first one to ever escape Azkaban… Yeah right! Because nobody else was fool enough to try. Only him. In that regard at least, his parents had it right… Arrogant little fool.

They wouldn't let him shift into Padfoot anymore. They'd make sure of it; take the one reprieve he had left… In his dream, he shifted again. Back to human. Back to Sirius Black, the disappointment to the Black family, the traitor to the order, and the killer to his friends. He'd spelled their doom. He'd—

He stared into a single curious grey eye. Something wasn't right. He knew it immediately. His body felt off. His vision was off. He didn't smell the coals of the dying fire or the river or the boy on the other side of the fireplace. The only thing he smelled was his own stinking body and the rags they had given him to wear 12 years ago and then only washed once a month, often enough not even that.

Wait… No!

He surged upright, sudden panic strangling his breath out of his throat.

No! Please no!

But he already knew, his prayers came too late. He was too tall. Human size. Standing upright, struggling to his feet. He was so unused to the height, his vision shifted, he overbalanced, fell back on all four, shaking. His hands. His filthy hands, right in front of his eyes. Caked in dirt. Human hands.

Kakashi – the boy – that kind child who had fed him and cared for him and called him a friend! The boy had jumped up, too, as Sirius had surged to his feet. Now, he stood towering above him. That young boy, kind and caring, who wasn't fully grown yet. But with Sirius cowering on all fours, the boy looked down on him.

Nonono! This shouldn't have happened!

What did you think? Idiot! Fool! Of course, you couldn't hide it forever.

"Sirius Black," the boy said matter-of-factly his distinct accent still struggling with the two consonants 'BL' following one after the other. As if he had already accepted the reality, that a dog – his dog (Sirius still wore his scarf! It hung comfortably around his neck, and yet – now it felt constricting, like a heavy burden and responsibility he could not bear.) – had shifted into a man. "You."

"No…," Sirius said, still in denial. He wasn't trying to lie. He wished… He wished desperately he could be anybody else. If he could just take a different name, a different face, for a few months, he could kill Peter, he could protect Harry. Maybe he could even make Moony see the truth. But he did not have that luxury. He was Sirius Black, a convicted mass murderer. A pitiful, hateful, guilty creature. He was a cursed and damned man, and no matter how much he wished for it, he could not change that fact.

"I see picture," Kakashi reminded him, turning the newspaper towards him, so he could see his own dirty, disheveled visage. It did not look like him. It looked like a madman.

He was a madman!

Sirius cowered down, hunched in. He didn't know what to do. He'd been prepared to go to war with the entire country to get to Harry – no matter what, as long as Harry was safe at the end. And yet, he hadn't even left Norfolk and this boy… Who had been kind and caring…

No… No! He couldn't give up, now.

He lunged at the boy. The kid didn't even have time to fight back. Perfectly still he looked up at Sirius, as the convict grabbed for his collar, then his neck, then…

What by Merlin are you doing!? Do you want to kill an innocent child? The only person who had been kind to you in over a decade!

How could he stand in front of Harry, or Remus, or himself… after killing a child who had been nothing but good to him?

No… I cannot…

His hands shifted from the boy's neck to his shoulders down his chest until his fists shifted in the new green shirt that Kakashi had just bought earlier today. Sirius' knees gave in. He did not know himself, if he was surrendering and admitting defeat or if he was simply out of energy. Maybe both. Both sounded right. His hands were raised and still knotted in Kakashi's shirt. But his head was bowed deep, waiting.

** 

Kakashi looked down at the man. He didn't look quite identical to the man in the picture. The man in the picture looked younger, not much, but just enough to make a difference. The man in the picture, in all his hysteria and manic energy, was terribly alive. This one though, the man kneeling in front of him…

Skin stretched tight over bone. Nothing but leathery sickly pale skin and bones. He had multiple rashes from bad hygiene where Kakashi saw it through the clothes and on his face. This man… captivity had left harsh scars on his body. Lines of suffering drawn deep into his face. And the starvation. This was a man who'd been meticulously starved for years, barely kept alive. Whereas in the picture, he looked sunken, this one, looked hollow. Hollow cheeks, hollow eyes. There was fear, surely, but no energy, no fight left. Kakashi had expected the attack sooner and when it happened, he had expected it to last longer, to at least be a decent attempt at his life. Sirius Black had supposedly murdered 13 people and helped kill two more. He had helped in the attempted murder of a baby, yet the mere idea of strangling Kakashi seemed to horrify him so much, that he gave up on the spot.

He was kind, Kakashi thought. Shaggy had been a kind dog. One who craved affection. One who had tried to make him laugh.

This revelation, it certainly explained a lot. The intelligence, the behavior, the malnourishment, the fear of the collar, the fear whenever the discussion turned to the escaped convict. He didn't quite understand, how he had done it – this transformation was no jutsu he knew and there was no chakra involved. He had shortly glimpsed at it with his Sharingan, as the dog was still asleep and turning into a human… But these technicalities aside, Kakashi now understood a lot better.

However, one thing did not seem to fit… This man didn't have the energy of a murderer. Kakashi had met many killers in his life. There were differences between a callous sadistic murderer, a meticulous assassin, a coldblooded killer, or a soldier of war. Kakashi had met them all, and yet this man did not look like either.

Shaggy had been gentle! A gentle dog! Would the man be any different?

Kakashi grabbed the wrists where they were twisted into his shirt. He pulled just a little bit, but Sirius let go of him as if he'd been burned.

"I'm sorry," the man whispered towards the ground.

Kakashi felt rough skin, welts, and old scars at the wrists, where manacles must have dug into his skin for years. He let go of them. The man automatically pulled his hands closer to himself. Then without a word, he frantically started fumbling with the headband he was still wearing around his neck. He was having trouble with the knot. Ultimately, he got it loose. He lifted his eyes with the piece of cloth as he held it for Kakashi to take.

"I'm sorry," Sirius Black repeated. "I reckon you want it back." Kakashi took it without a word.

There were no tears in Black's eyes, but his voice trembled through dry and split lips.

No wonder, Kakashi thought, that a week of dog-portions hadn't done much to help with the man's starvation. There was a human body underneath. He'd been trying to feed a tall adult man back to health with the portion sizes for a sick dog.

"How you do it?" he asked curiously.

The man looked up questioningly.

"How you become to dog?" Kakashi specified.

** 

Azkaban. It would be right back to Azkaban for him, he knew. He could flee now. He would, as soon as the boy left for the next muggle-auror 'police' station. Kakashi might go back to Aylsham, the town he knew. They had a small station there. Or he'd even follow the signs to Norwich. They weren't far away now. Kakashi was smart, he'd find a way. And he'd tell them, that Sirius could turn into a dog. Of course, muggles would not believe him, but the kid was smart, and he'd find some way to be heard. All he'd need was the ear of a single witch or wizard and Sirius' secret and his best bet to reach Harry or Hogwarts undetected was out.

He could run as fast as he wanted, he knew he would not make it. They would find him. They would know what to look for—

Kakashi grabbed him at the wrists. Sirius's trembling stilled at that. Then at the slightest tuck, Sirius understood. He let go of the shirt. Of course, … The dirty hands of a traitor, a murderer. Who'd want to be touched by that? Had he left stains on the boy's neck, he wondered? Dirty smears of earth and mud? They'd be invisible against the dark cloth of Kakashi's mask, but be there, nonetheless.

You're innocent.

He apologized in a tiny voice, drew his hands in, then he tried to open the knot of the cloth Kakashi had tied around his neck. It had smelled of the boy, he remembered. He'd nuzzled his snout in it before he'd fallen asleep. The reminder, that there was somebody who cared for him – if not for him personally, but for the dog Shaggy. Of course, that too was only temporary. Now, he could not smell the boy's scent anymore, his human nose unable to detect it, and he also did not have the boy's trust anymore, anyway.

He managed to open the knot and handed the cloth over. The metal plate bumped uselessly against his arm. Now that it was dark, the engraving he had only shortly glimpsed there earlier – a swirly sign a bit like a leaf – wasn't visible anymore. He apologized again.

"How you do it?" the boy asked calmly… Calmly, so incredibly calm.

Do what? Sirius wondered. His head sunk a little longer, not understanding the question. Fled from Azkaban? But the boy didn't know of Azkaban. The murder? How had he done the murder? Or—

"How you become to dog?"

Oh… that. Of course, that would be the most interesting thing to the boy. And how should he explain? Could he even? The boy was a muggle, knew nothing about magic, wasn't allowed to learn anything about it. The Statute of Secrecy—

Sirius' shoulders shook in silent laughter. Yeah right! Why not break the Statute of Secrecy? He was a convicted murderer, sentenced to a life locked away in Azkaban already. What else could they do to him? The Dementor's kiss? At least, he'd have the pleasure to break the law once, before they put him back into his hole for the rest of his life.

"I'm not allowed to tell you," he laughed, his voice bordering on maniac. "It's against the Statute," he chuckled madly, "the Statute of Secrecy. Kakashi." It was the first time he said the name. It felt foreign on his tongue, but he felt fondness as he said it.

He looked up at the boy only shortly, not wanting to see the condemnation in that single normally so bored eye.

"I'm a wizard, Kakashi. Magic is real." He smiled. "Can you believe it? If I had a wand, I'd show you." He stopped talking then.

"What is the jutsu?" the boy said.

Jutsu? Sirius did not know that word, and it occurred to him, that Kakashi had likely only understood half of what he'd said just now. He'd broken the law – look at that! – and the muggle he'd broken it to didn't even understand it! Suddenly, the grotesqueness and despair of the situation reached the boiling point. He laughed. A loud and barking laughter, bellowing across the river and over the empty fields behind the rocks. Hopefully, there was nobody in the vicinity to hear— and if? Let them hear! He was doomed regardless. Had not even made it out of Norfolk – pathetic!

The last time he had laughed like that, he remembered, had been the day of his arrest.

"James and Lily! How could you!" The bang, the blood, the smoke, and destruction. For a moment he felt regret, that he had only extended the shield charm over his own body, instead of trying to protect the muggles around them. He hadn't thought—He hadn't thought that Peter would blow up the entire street. He'd prepared for a duel! Fool! Fool! Peter, come back here!

But he had not screamed for his former friend to come back, instead, he had laughed, hysterically, maniacally. He'd understood it then. Peter's plan. The genius of it, and how he had underestimated his own friend. The man he'd called a friend until that day. A setup. A trap Sirius had stepped in like a fool. Like a blind idiot. He'd still laughed as the aurors apprehended him, as they dragged him through the ministry corridors, as he waited in a holding cell for just an hour or two, and then as they apparated him again, straight to the coast. By the time they pushed him on the small dingy boat, in a way that his shackled feet weren't able to follow, so he'd fall face first on hard wet wood, his laughter had dissolved into choking sobs, but it did not make a difference.

It had taken almost a week for him, to realize, to understand and for it to break through his denial, that James was dead, that Lily was dead, that Harry was an orphan, that Peter had betrayed them and fled, that Remus would be told Sirius was the traitor, that he was now in Azkaban, and that he would remain there. Nobody would come to bring him in for a trial or further investigation or even a single interview. They had dumped him into his cell, and he would remain there for the rest of his life, hated and forgotten, innocent yet guilty of the deaths of his friends.

At least this time. This time, he knew what was happening. This time, he'd know when they'd push him back on that boat… He'd know his fate.

His eyes opened from where he had them scrunched shut, and then—

There was something swirling red and black like he'd never seen before...

He felt warm. Warm, comfortable, painless. The hunger cramps he'd been suffering from for years now, were gone, leaving only a numb emptiness in their wake. He felt good. Even the panicked hysteria was gone. He felt short-cut grass under his body, the grass tickling his skin. He could smell the flowers the way he'd normally only be able to when transformed to Padfoot. There were insects, flies, bees, and butterflies dancing in the air. He heard dogs barking in the distance… There was something unreal about this scene. Spring, he knew. This was a scene of spring. But it was July!

Surreal... Was he dreaming?

But he knew his dreams. His dreams were dark and cold and full of despair. There were no meadows or bees or butterflies in his dreams. Not the warm breeze in his hair, or sunlight on his skin. Just cold stone walls, iron bars, shackles, icy saltwater spray, storms, fear, and death. Whispers of the past, of dead friends, and traitors and the hateful abandonment of the living.

And yet it felt like a dream. What else would it be? This painless, fearless existence, where he felt no hunger, no worries, no despair. Azkaban seemed so far away.

It was spring! How could it be spring?

He had dreams like this before. Rarely, during his happiest days in Hogwarts. Almost, he was inclined to turn around, to look if James was waiting behind him, waving him over to run free, run wild, to shift and tumble around in the flowers. Would Remus be there too?

But when he turned, there was nobody.

Maybe it was better that way. Remus would only have cold condemnation for him and James… Did he blame him too? Had he cursed Sirius, in his last moments, why the fool had fallen for Peter's spiel? He shook his head.

Don't think about it!

He should not summon the clouds. Happy dreams, he remembered from the few he had in his childhood, were fragile… Yet, no matter how long he was there, lying on fresh grass, warmed by the sun, no cloud ever came.