"You're really going to read through all those sodding books?" muttered Sirius. "Seems like a waste of time if you ask me." He sulkily kicked the bottom of the bookshelf with the toe of his boot.
"We could just ask someone like Harry to tell us what the hell's happened," he pointed out.
It was, in retrospect, what he should have done in the first place. But what held him back from it wasn't any lack of brilliance. Sirius didn't want to know. Ignorance was bliss and all that rot.
"Can't get much worse than rotting away in Azkaban, can it?"
Although, how much time he spent there – Sirius didn't even know that much. He'd never wanted to know.