Side Chapter: Sirius Orion Black lll

A/N: A short chapter, because you don't deserve to wait while I decide exactly how to write the next arch. Because judging by my notes, I am very much at risk of losing some readers in about five chapters. And no, I'm not going to give Dan a human form, that's not the thing you should be worried about.

Completely-unrelated-to-the-message-from-above question (seriously). Do you want to read flashback chapters about the life of a human Dan? It will be mostly his daily life with Katya and their grandfather. And maybe some nightmares about his parents.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

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A worn man in his forties was walking through the woods towards the center of London. His gray eyes darted from side to side, following the slightest movement on the horizon. Dried mud and blood clung to his body from all sides, forming a thin layer of filth on his skin. But he didn't care about such petty things. He was a man on a mission, distractions were unacceptable.

The dark mark on his arm was so weak that he could barely feel the connection with his master, but he was sure that the master was still alive. A cold gust of wind made Sirius wrap himself even more tightly in prison robes. Thirteen years in Azkaban didn't make his life any better, but he kept going forward with a crazy smile on his face.

"Master..." he croaked, "I will find you and you will bring peace back to these lands."

He remembered the day of his initiation as if it was yesterday. At that time, he was stupid and young, believing in the sweet words of the Light about forgiveness and kindness. That what Lord Voldemort was doing was disgusting and wrong.

Young and confident Sirius Black. He believed that at the end of the war, everything would fall into place again. That no one will have to die anymore. How naive he was then.

Lord Voldemort opened his eyes to the truth of this world. The magic of Britain was gradually dying. More and more Squibs appeared on Ostrava, old and strong families died like flies, and mudbloods and half-breeds took their place. The Dark Lord knew that at this rate the old magic would die, giving way to something new and uncontrollable. And everything new and great brought with it one unchanging consequence – war.

With the death of the Old Magic, Muggles will be able to see the Magical World. Wards will fall in England, revealing the existence of Wizards to the whole world and then questions will begin.

It was enough just to let the Muggles know that there is a caste of people in the world who can control reality and everything will go wrong.

He was glad that only a few Wizards knew about Nukes.

His Lord had found a solution. The takeover of Magical England was only the first step, Ordinary Magic would follow, and only then the whole world. A war to end all wars, the Lord said.

A pop sounded behind him and Sirius immediately turned into his Animagus form, running away.

A couple of months ago, he was able to escape from Azkaban. For many years, he gave in to his madness, laughing in the faces of dementors and shouting curses at the prison guards. But lately, he's started to feel... not better, but it's like he's been given a new direction in life.

Something came alive inside him, giving him strength. For several weeks Sirius puzzled over what it could be. Dementors no longer seem so terrible, and life wasn't so disgusting.

Only when Fudge threw a newspaper into his cell – to mock him or something like that, who can understand an idiot? – he noticed a very old rat in the hands of the youngest Weasley son. The rat reminded him of Peter and his thoughts slowly began to fall into place. Peter. A rat loyal to the Light Side who tried to kill him for betraying the Potters. He was the one who told Sirius that the Dark Lord was dead.

Sirius saw the signs. The Dark Mark was faded on his arm, as well as on the ones on the arms of his comrades, but he refused to believe that Voldemort died so simply, without a fight and without an explosion, because if his Master did die, then he would definitely take half of the continent with him.

And then it dawned on Sirius, right in the cell of Azkaban, sitting over the dirty and crumpled newspaper by the name of The Daily Prophet. The Dark Lord is not dead. And he's gaining strength. A glance at the Dark Mark confirmed this.

Therefore, Sirius began to prepare an escape plan. He knew that the whole Auror Department would chase him and even possibly send Dementors, so he needed to throw everyone off his trail. So, he started "muttering in his sleep" about the Potter brat at Hogwarts.

No matter what anyone said about Sirius Black, he was smart, loyal to his master and only a little crazy. Just enough to qualify for the name Black. Fudge was such a big idiot that he wouldn't even think about Sirius going in a completely different direction.

'A stick. That was a stick.' Sirius thought, looking around. How rusty was he that he confused the sound of a broken branch with the sound of an Apparatus? 'I need to get closer to the road. A couple of dead Muggles and I'll have new clothes.' The Grimm's snout twisted in disgust. 'Muggle clothes! Maybe it's better to stay as a dog...'

A couple of days later, local newspapers wrote about the loss of two campers after the attack of wolves. No one has ever found their bodies, just a couple of completely clean bones. But it was understandable. Grimms need to eat, too, after all.