InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "That wasn't love."

Sirius Black (not_so_serious) wrote in brightlightlogs,
@ 2010-04-25 20:58:00

Entry tags:

james potter, sirius black

Who: Sirius Black (Padfoot!) and OPEN to anybody who knows him.
What: Sirius wakes up on a bed instead of on the floor of a prison cell.
When: Mid afternoon
Where: Outside of the apartment building.
Rating: TBA
Status: Incomplete

Behind the door of a penthouse apartment, a dog whined.

The sheets underneath of him were smooth. And that was wrong. There was a blanket at the end of the bed. And that was wrong too. There was a bed and that was so wrong that his first reaction was to cry out through the mouth of a dog. With his paws feeling unsteady, he stood on four legs that wobbled underneath the soft mattress that supported his weight. His eyes (eyes that resembled the eyes of an animal about to be plowed down by a truck) darted from one side of the room to the other, alarmed and seeing things that they weren’t expecting to see. This, whatever this was, was such a far cry from his cell in Azkaban that Sirius was sure that he had to be dreaming. In a way, he had started existing only for his dreams; dreams like this, where other people moved around him and where he was almost but not quite free.

Leaping down onto the floor, he lowered his head to sniff at the carpet. It smelled clean and he sneezed, not used to the scent; not anymore. With his muzzle bowed, he followed an invisible trail to a door that was closed. Instead of being discouraged by this, he stood on his hind legs and pressed his front paws up against the surface of the door until it gave and opened for him. Huffing in satisfaction, Padfoot took to the hallway, ignoring the laptop on the desk behind him, for he didn’t know what it was and therefore it was quite uninteresting to him. It might as well not have been there at all.

Fortunately he was on the first floor. There were no elevators to get in his way and no doors that were shut and blocking his path from the steps. Prancing onward, relieved to be in his supposed-dream, Padfoot approached the light of an open entryway. Outside, the sun was shining and the air was warm. He could hear birds and the roaring engines of Muggle cars as they glided over pavement. Blinking, trying to adjust to the light, he opened his mouth in a pant and barked once, emitting a loud, sharp sound that was likely to draw attention to him. He didn’t care. The dog, with ribs jutting out too far, longed for them to approach him and pet him and fuss in voices that he would remember upon awakening, like echoes that never, ever faded.

They tortured him.

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prongsy_potter
2010-04-26 01:44 am UTC (link)

James was really enjoying living at the house with everyone instead of the Zenner Building. Not only did the house feel like less of a prison, but there was always someone around to talk to and the fact that Jamie and Al were both there made getting to know them that much easier. And of course there was Ginny.

However, living in the house meant that he was further away from the city and couldn't simply walk outside to go shopping; now he had to apparate. Not that he minded, because now he didn't have to carry bags back, which had made his recent shopping spree with Jamie a lot easier. The fact that Jamie was a girl still amused him greatly even if he knew that the other Potter was going to get himself into some sort of trouble.

After spending the morning around the house and out by the pool, James had decided to apparate into town and just wander around for a while to kill some time. Appearing in an alley not far from the Zenner building, he began walking towards it for old time's sake.

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not_so_serious
2010-04-26 02:22 am UTC (link)

Padfoot smelled him before he saw him. In his canine form, Sirius had a sense of smell like no other and while he was usually grateful for that, right now it only made him flatten his ears against his head. His tail lowered and ceased wagging, as if he were a puppy who had just been kicked in the ribs. This wasn’t fair. Seeing his friend only to have him ripped away from him was always too much. Those were dreams that quickly turned into nightmares.

But he went to him anyway, with a trail tucked between his legs, his shoulders hunched.

It was difficult to be so wary when James was right there, when he looked so real. His paw, one paw, lifted up off the ground in curiosity and suddenly, the smells and the sights were so vivid that the dream… didn’t seem so dreamlike. Padfoot was deciding whether or not to bark again. He’d already stepped in front of him. James would see him.

He hoped.

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prongsy_potter
2010-04-26 06:06 am UTC (link)

James didn't notice the dog at first. He didn't notice the dog until it was right in stopped right in front of him, causing him to stop as well. He waited a momemt, expecting the dog to run away when he got close, but it didn't. Instead it stared at him. He stared at the dog, frowning slightly as he did so; he'd seen this dog before. But where? Had he seen him walking the streets before? That was certainly plausible. No, but that didn't seem right.

Suddenly it hit him. But no, that wasn't possible. Or was it? Glancing around, he took a tentative step forward and crouched down in front of the dog, "Padfoot?" He asked, softly as people walked by them.

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not_so_serious
2010-05-02 04:02 am UTC (link)

He wagged his tail, back and forth and up and away from the ground and his dwindling careful stance. The movement started out slow, steady, only to become faster with some kind of rush of excitement. James was more of a welcoming sight than clear, flowing water was to a dying man stranded in a desert. His name-- that name-- spoken aloud, that was salvation, a dream becoming solid as he stood watching, anticipating. Padfoot’s ears stood back up to better hear the voice, straining to catch everything, every whisper, every breath. The muscles in his legs twitched. The dog unfroze and he ran, much too happy and astonished to keep still.

Jumping up with all the excitement of a puppy who was finally being taken out of his cage, he pawed and whimpered and licked at his friend’s face. Fearing that he would vanish if he glanced away, Padfoot dared not to look at anything or anybody else. James wasn’t supposed to be there. The dead never came back, no matter how much and how hard you cried for them. And yet, there was no denying his presence.

Now, if only he could somehow make him stay.

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prongsy_potter
2010-05-02 04:11 am UTC (link)

When the dog jumped at him and began licking at his face, James couldn't help but laugh as he brought his hands up to run through the black fur that felt so familar running through his fingers, "Pads, calm down." There was no denying that it was Sirius, James had seen him like this too many times not to know him.

As much as he enjoyed seeing Padfoot, he wanted to see Sirius even more so he glanced around once he had gotten Padfoot to stop licking his face and got to his feet, gesturing towards a small alley, "Come on."

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not_so_serious
2010-05-02 04:45 am UTC (link)

Calming down almost felt impossible, an incredible feat that he would not be able to accomplish. But he tried. He got down, stood on four paws again, and nudged his head against James’ legs affectionaly. Padfoot had gone to him like this before, full of energy and wanting to be petted and talked to, wanting to be given attention. The energy in him was different this time. He was desperate.

And he understood him perfectly. The alley was better for reunions. In the seclusion, he could turn back into a man and as a man he could speak and say what the dog could not. Keeping his eyes on him, Padfoot let James lead him away from the front of the apartment building.

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prongsy_potter
2010-05-02 04:53 am UTC (link)

Reaching the alley, James turned and waited for Padfoot, then glanced around to make sure no one else was in there before addressing the dog again. "Coast is clear, Sirius." Waiting for Sirius to change back was nerve wracking, he'd been hoping for two months now that Zenner would bring Sirius back and now, unless he was mistaken and this was just a random stray that had taken a liking to him, he was back and James' heart beat rapidly in anticipation.

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not_so_serious
2010-05-02 05:23 am UTC (link)

Days, weeks, months, Sirius spent as a dog, curled up in the furthest corner of his cell, eyeing the Dementors who swept passed the prisoners, sucking out life and feelings. Nervously, he listened to the wailing, the weeping, the scratching of fingernails against dirt and steel. Always, the noises that he was forced to listen to distressed him. They were void of all hope and hearing the emptiness, Sirius lost whatever hope that was his and his alone, as it dripped away little by little.

Azkaban was gone. Lights were blinking. A child laughed. Muggles were everywhere. His insides were warming up and he could see clearly and feel the sun shining through his fur. He sat down, tilted his head at James. Padfoot knew what he wanted. Panting one last time, he twitched and barked low and quiet, shook his head and lost the sharp teeth, his black fur.

On two legs, Sirius looked pathetic, exhausted, worn down. But for once, he did not slump and wasting no time, he threw himself at James, wrapped his arms around him, clung. “You’re real.” Having not spoken much since being dragged away, his voice came out husky and rough around the edges.

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prongsy_potter
2010-05-02 05:32 am UTC (link)

James knew what had become of Sirius after him and Lily had been killed two years from the time he'd arrived here, and judging from the look of Sirius it was clear that he was from some point when he was in Azkaban and it caused James' heart to ache for him.

No matter what Sirius looked like though, he was still Sirius. Still his best mate and when Sirius threw his arms around him, James returned the gesture, hugging him tight, not caring that Sirius had obviously been locked up for quite some time and was rather dirty. "You're back." He murmured.

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