All Debts Must be Paid

Chapter Four: Sirius

When Sirius opened his eyes again, he was lying on the cold floor of what seemed to be some sort of conservatory. A door clicked shut as if someone had just walked out. He gave a slight groan, but was prevented from taking a deeper breath by the almost indescribable pain in his ribs where Crusher had been kicking him. But the pain was almost wiped out by the smell that filled his mind, reaching him through the quick, shallow breaths that were all he could take. It was a thick, warm smell that brought saliva rushing to his mouth and a flash of memory almost too short to grasp, of a cold winter afternoon, a blazing fire, drinking hot soup with three others. He opened his eyes and saw a bowl sitting on the floor a few feet from his face, steam curling upwards into the cool air.

With an effort, he dragged himself up into a sitting position, the thin, magical cords still bound his wrists, and now his ankles again, but he would be able to hold the bowl in his hands. He leaned forward, giving a grunt of pain as his ribs grated, and pulled the bowl towards him. He managed to pick it up with both hands and held it for a long moment, feeling the warmth seep through to the bones of his fingers, and letting the smell drift upwards. Then he dropped his head with something like a sob and took a sip. It was very hot, but the taste was unbelievable. He swallowed and felt a trickle of warmth down to his belly. Then for a moment, he thought he was going to throw up. It was almost as if his stomach couldn't cope with anything other than the dreadful mush he'd been fed for the last twelve years. But the feeling eased and he took another mouthful of the soup, savoured it and slowly swallowed it.

He became aware of voices from the other side of the door. Angry voices.

"You did what?" Crusher yelled. Footsteps sounded and the angry Hit Wizard flung open the door. Sirius paused and looked up, his eyes meeting those of the other man. They stared at each other for a moment until Jacks came up and put a hand on Crusher's arm.

"Oh leave him be, Stan, come and finish your lunch," he said.

Crusher shook the hand off his arm and turned round. Jacks stood for a moment, in his place staring at Sirius, face expressionless, and then he too turned, closing the door behind him, saying as he did so, "I must say though, Mrs Sinclair I don't think you were very wise to…"

A woman's voice broke in, "He may well be a monster of inhumanity, Mr Jacks, but I am not. No matter what dreadful things he's done, he certainly doesn't look capable of doing anything very much at the moment. And I will not be criticised in my own house for showing a fellow human being a little common decency, no matter how much of a monster he may be." Sirius could almost hear her drawing herself up to her full height and looking Jacks in the eye.

Jacks mumbled something in response, and Sirius offered up a silent prayer of thanks that there were still decent people in the world. He slowly finished the soup. With some nourishment in his body, he found he was able to think more clearly. He put the soup bowl down on the floor. Getting out of the magical ropes wouldn't be a problem for Padfoot; it was getting out of the room that might be difficult.

Quickly he transformed, shaking the ropes off, but then transformed back cursing himself for a fool - he had to get out now. He tried the door, but as he had thought it would be, it was locked. He looked instead at the windows that stretched along the wall beside the door. The only openings were at the top and far too small for either him or Padfoot to squeeze through. But then he frowned, looking at the window frames. Paint had peeled off, showing the wood beneath, wood that was almost rotten in places from the salt on the air. The window nearest the wall looked in worst condition. He put a hand up and could feel a strong draught coming through and saw that the putty holding the glass in the frame was old and crumbling.

He put both his hands to the frame and gave it an experimental push, testing to see how firm it was. He must have pushed harder than he thought, or the frame was on the point of collapse as it proceeded to fall outwards. Oh, bugger. It was one of those moments that last forever, as he watched the glass fall almost in slow motion towards the ground.

However, almost before it smashed with a crash that reverberated round the room he had flashed into Padfoot and was scrambling through the empty space.

He jumped awkwardly, trying to avoid the broken glass, knowing he had to move quickly and be out of sight before they came into the room. He landed in the grass and ran for the shelter of the outbuildings. However, a black and white streak started running towards him, barking in outrage. They had a sheep dog.

He didn't have time to snap at the dog, cries of alarm were coming from the house. Instead, he fled through the open doorway of what his nose told him was an old cow byre now housing a rusty pick up truck. There was another doorway at the other end of the building through which he could see open moorland beckoning from beyond the fields. However, the sheep dog had followed him, and now it leapt at him, clenching its jaws round one of his hind legs. He crashed to the ground, snarling, trying to shake it off. It released his leg as he lunged round to snap at it, and as soon as it had let go, risked transforming back for an instant. The dog immediately drew back, ears flattened, confused, and he managed to drive it out of the far doorway before transforming back, and following it. But the few seconds he had spent in his human form had shown him that the dog had drawn blood, and he could only limp.

The other dog took one look back at him, and seeing he was, apparently coming after it, fled off to the left. Sirius ignored it and ran as fast as he could along the edge of the barley until he came to the slight shelter of a solitary rowan tree on the banks of the stream. He stopped then, chest painfully heaving, looking back to see if anyone had noticed him. He could hear a vast amount of angry shouting, carried on the wind, and then the frantic figures of the Hit Wizards came running round the edge of the outbuildings. He thought they glanced in his direction, but they seemed to be searching the outbuildings. As soon as they were out of sight, he turned and slunk along the stream bank, careful to keep below the horizon.

Only when he was sure he was over the horizon and could no longer see the croft buildings when he looked back, did he leave the stream and head out, onto the moor.

Limping across the empty moorland Sirius tried to think about what to do, but the pain in his leg was distracting, and he had difficulty thinking coherently. He stopped and licked the blood off his leg, but was almost overwhelmed by the instinctive need to flee. The Hit Wizards would have gone for reinforcements as soon as they realised he wasn't on the croft. The whole area would be swarming with them within the hour. He understood without thinking about it, that being Padfoot wouldn't save him. Anything unusual would be picked up. A stray dog fleeing from the croft would be just as noticeable as a human. He tried to lengthen his stride to a three-legged lope but one bowl of soup wasn't going to repair his bruised ribs or the exhaustion he was suffering from and he had to slow back down almost immediately.

It started raining again. Not the occasional spattered drops there had been earlier, but a cold, driving downpour, flung out of the east on a strengthening wind. Sirius shivered, Padfoot's coat was in such poor condition that its natural waterproofing was quickly overcome and he was drenched. He had the comforting thought that at least in this wind they wouldn't be coming after him on broomsticks.

Then in the distance, he saw a short line of trees - sitka spruce, fast growing, not native the human part of his mind told him irrelevantly. He didn't care. There would be shelter, from the wind at least. As he drew near, he saw that the trees had been planted round a lay-by on a road. Every now and then, a large truck or a tourist bus thundered north or south.

As he nosed his way through the trees, Sirius realised that it wasn't a lay-by at all. It was a bus stop, and moreover, one with a shelter. He would be able to get out of the rain, if he dared stop again. But then he realised he had to stop because if he didn't he'd collapse.

The glass of the bus shelter was filthy and the wind was behind him, so that it wasn't until he stepped inside that he realised it wasn't empty. A long shape was huddled up on the red plastic bench, with a rucksack sitting in the corner. Out of the wind, it almost felt warm, and although the concrete floor was cold, it was dry and he wanted to stay. Then it occurred to him that if he looked as if he belonged to the hitchhiker then he would no longer be odd or out of place when the Hit Wizards and the Aurors arrived.

But as he approached the man, he saw hazel eyes watching him and cursed inwardly, stopping in his tracks. The man sat up, and Sirius saw he was young, with great long, mousy brown dreadlocks.

"Jeez-oh, mate!" the man said in a very strong Australian accent, "I thought I was in a mess, but look at you!" He reached out and grabbed Padfoot by the scruff of the neck, pulling him towards him. "Come here, you old bastard and let's have a proper look at you then."

As the man didn't seem to mean him any harm, Sirius allowed himself to be dragged forwards, although he suspected if he had struggled it might have been hard to get away. The man lightly ran his other hand along Padfoot's back and down his flanks, inspecting the dog, muttering in disgust as he did so. Sirius was unable to stop a slight growl when the man's hands touched his ribs, but he paused then made a soothing sound through his teeth and carried on. When he saw the jagged gash the other dog's teeth had left on Padfoot's hind leg, he said with a grin, "Whoa, you have been in the wars, aincha, mate? Best get that cleaned up." He gave him a pat on the head and let go. He reached over to his rucksack and started rummaging around inside it, pulling out a small green box. He opened it and pulled out a packet of something that smelled sharply disinfectant when he opened it.

"Yeah, I know, doesn't smell very good does it?" the man said, pulling Padfoot towards him again. He quickly ran a cool, damp cloth over the dog's leg. Sirius flinched slightly as it stung. The man scratched his ears. "All done, 's not deep, looks worse than it is." And he let him go again.

As Sirius was debating what to do next, the man asked, "Want something to eat? Might have something in here that would suit a dog." He gestured towards his rucksack.

In his human form, Sirius would have grinned, as a dog, the same emotion prompted a tail wag. He sat down.

The man put the green box away and had another rummage. He glanced over, grinning. "Sorry, mate, but you are not getting me last tinnie," he said. "But I've half a packet of bikkies and some chokkie here." He frowned slightly. "Not sure if I should give a dog chokkie, but we'll see."

Sirius didn't care, so long as it was food. The man opened up the packet of biscuits and put it on the ground. He didn't waste any time savouring them, but scrunched them down as fast as he could. The man gave a twisted grin. "Well it doesn't take Einstein to figure out you're hungry, mate. Here," and he held out a couple of squares of thick, dark chocolate. Sirius delicately took one between his teeth and chomped it down. He couldn't taste it properly, not in this form anyway. The man shrugged and let him have the other square as well. Then he fastened up the rucksack again and said regretfully, "That's it, no more, sorry."

Sirius thumped his tail against the floor and the man ruffled him on the head again before lying back down on the bench. Sirius curled up on the floor, underneath him. He wondered how long it would be before his pursuers arrived.

A car drew into the bus stop. Through the filthy glass of the bus shelter, Sirius could just make out that it was a Muggle police car, with Northern Constabulary written on the side, the blue light flashing on top. He watched, not overly concerned as two men got out and started walking over to the bus shelter. They were wearing bright yellow fluorescent jackets and dark peaked caps. They looked grim.

"What the hell do these wankers want?" muttered the Australian to himself, and sat up waiting for them.

The two policemen placed themselves at either end of the bus shelter, blocking the exits. They didn't say anything for a moment, just stood and looked at the Australian, clearly unimpressed by his scruffy appearance. Eventually one of them said, "Name?"

Sirius heard the man stiffen in protest at the abrupt demand, but he answered, "Joe Kirkness. What is this? I haven't done anything."

"We'll be the judge of that Mr Kirkness," replied the other one. "What are you doing here?"

Again, Sirius heard Kirkness mutter, "Bloody hell!" before he answered, " It's a bus stop. I'm waiting for a bus, what d'you think I'm doing?"

The two policemen advanced into the shelter. "I wouldn't take that tone with us, Mr Kirkness if I were you," the first one said. He pulled a picture out of his pocket. "You seen this man, at all Mr Kirkness?"

Sirius couldn't stop himself shivering. It was a picture that had to be of him. Kirkness took the picture and looked at it closely. "I think I'd remember if I saw someone like that," he said.

They'd told the Muggles about him, Sirius thought in despair. Any hopes he'd had of fading into the background of the Muggle world while he waited for the Rat to go to Hogwarts faded.

"Who is he?" Kirkness asked then.

"His name's Sirius Black," one of the policemen said, "He escaped from a maximum security institution for the criminally insane near here two days ago."

Kirkness gave a low whistle. "What he do?"

The policeman sighed. "Mr Kirkness, Black has already murdered fourteen people and is extremely dangerous. I hope you are not getting any stupid ideas about being a hero?"

"Me?" The Australian sounded surprised. "Nah, just curious."

The policeman looked unconvinced. "Aye well. Mind and be careful your curiosity doesn't get you killed, Mr Kirkness. There's a bus due in about forty-five minutes. Make sure you're on it, you and that scabby dog of yours."

And with that, the two policemen turned and left. Kirkness leaned forwards and scratched Sirius behind the ears. "What the hell was all that about?" he muttered. "Bloody wankers."

Sirius agreed with that sentiment. Kirkness lay back down again, and Sirius found he was starting to relax, it was a peculiar feeling, unsettling almost so that he tensed up again almost immediately, but the combination of relative comfort, companionship of a sort, food and a growing belief that he might, just might make it clean away had their effect. But then, in the distance, his canine hearing picked up several slight popping sounds. He knew what they were and immediately started to shiver. He couldn't stop a growl.

"Wassup?" Kirkness asked, sitting up. Then he saw the men walking towards the bus shelter, and said, "Ooh, looks like more wankers, only these blokes don't look as friendly as the other lot." he ruffled the matted fur on Sirius' head again. "Don't worry, they're not after us."

But Sirius knew they were after him. They were dressed as Muggles, but they weren't. Probably Aurors, or maybe even Unspeakables. The problem with the canine form he found was that every emotion showed. They terrified him for what they would do to him. The longer he was away from Azkaban the more terrified he became of being sent back, both for what it would mean to himself, but also for what it might mean for Harry if he failed to get the Rat. He tried to focus on the rage he felt towards the bastard, to drive down the fear, so it wouldn't show. The human contact was soothing as well and after a moment the shaking eased.

There were three of them. As the leader entered the bus shelter, the other two took up positions at the exits. He looked at Kirkness and Padfoot with a cold-eyed stare that would show no mercy.

"Name?" he said.

"Oh bloody hell!" exclaimed Kirkness, "I've already been through all this with the cops that were here not ten minutes ago. Me name's Joe Kirkness, I'm Australian in case you can't tell, I've been looking up rellies in Thurso, and now I'm heading back south. Happy?"

"Can you prove what you say?"

"'Course I can bloody prove it!" Something occurred to him. "But how about you telling me who you are and proving it first?"

The man ignored this. Instead, he said, "Mr Kirkness we are on the trail of an extremely dangerous man. For all we know he could be standing behind one of those trees holding your girlfriend hostage leaving you to persuade us that you know nothing about him. Be assured if that is the case, your girlfriend is already dead. Your passport?"

"I don't know anything about any fucking loonies," Kirkness muttered, but he reached inside his jacket and handed over his passport all the same.

The man flicked through it before handing it back. He glanced over at one of the other men, who Sirius saw was holding a Sneakoscope in one hand. He gave a tiny shake of his head.

The man looked down at Sirius, who had to put every ounce of control he possessed into not baring his teeth at him. "Is this your dog?" he asked.

This was the question Sirius had feared. He waited, frozen for Kirkness' response.

The question had annoyed the Australian and he replied, "Yeah, what of it?"

Sirius couldn't believe the relief he felt at this answer. He had been nerving himself to try and make a run for it. He barely heard the man reply, "You should take better care of it, Mr Kirkness. We don't take kindly to people who mistreat domestic animals in this country."

And without another word the three of them walked away.

Sirius didn't even try to stop the shivering now. Kirkness noticed, and crouched down beside him, pulling him towards his chest saying, "Come here, you old bastard, they really freaked you out didn't they? Freaked me out too, shhh, shhh."

The part of him that was still human wanted to pull away, but the canine part was deeply grateful for the comfort, and the shaking gradually stopped. Preoccupied with calming the dog, Kirkness couldn't see the Aurors Disapparate, but Sirius, looking over his shoulder, saw them go, and breathed a long, heartfelt sigh of relief.

Kirkness sat back on his heels looking at Sirius speculatively. "Well, having said you're my dog, can't very well leave ya here now can I? Those creeps would turn up again and arrest me or something. Looks like you're coming to London with me."

For an instant Sirius was dismayed. He would be further away from Hogwarts than he was now, but then he realised, he'd be able to go and see Harry. So when the bus pulled into the stop twenty minutes later, he scrambled up into it ahead of Kirkness.

Four days and several changes of bus later, they arrived at Victoria Coach Station in London. Kirkness hadn't been in a hurry and had spent a couple of days looking up friends in Edinburgh before finally heading down to London. Sirius watched him unload his rucksack from the bus and knew he had the opportunity to leave unseen. A poor way to repay someone for saving his life, but he could hardly say goodbye or thank you in person so to speak, not with his picture emblazoned all over the tabloids.

He had thought about it for too long, Kirkness had retrieved his bag and was looking around him. "Hey, Blackie!" he shouted, then spotted him. "Thought you'd buggered off for a moment, there mate," he told him, coming over. "Come on, I know a place where we can stay for a few days."

The streets were busy, the pavements milling with people, blank-eyed going about their business. The fumes from the traffic were worse, a stink of diesel that left him short of breath. Kirkness paused, looking for the right bus stop, then walked out across the road, with his back to the oncoming traffic. Normally this would not have been a problem as the streets were so crowded none of the cars or bikes or other vehicles was going at all fast. However, at the same time as one driver, more impatient than the rest, spotted a gap in another lane and pulled out, Kirkness stepped out into it from between the queue of cars and vans. He didn't see the car, but Sirius did, he had glanced to his left as he stuck his head out between the bumpers.

The oncoming car was accelerating towards them and Sirius could see instantly that there wasn't time for the driver to stop before he hit Kirkness. Without thinking about it, he leapt in front of the Australian, knocking him backwards so that he fell against the car he had just passed. He hit it with a loud thump, and slid down onto the tarmac, just as the driver of the oncoming car had slammed his foot on the brakes, and was starting to slow down. The car screeched past the spot where Kirkness had been walking, coming to a halt some seconds later several metres down the road.

"Fuuuuu -!" was all Kirkness managed to say. The colour had drained completely from his face, as the realisation of what he had escaped struck him. He turned to look at Padfoot, amazement flashing across his features and stretched out a hand to grab the dog by the scruff of his neck.

Sirius pulled back and gave a quiet whuff.

Then the driver of the car, equally white faced, leapt out of the vehicle and screamed, "You stupid, fucking bastard! Didn't they ever teach you to look where you're going in whatever hick country it is you come from?"

Kirkness, turned away from the dog and scrambled to his feet. He began yelling insults back at the driver. Nothing wrong with him then.

Quickly Sirius saw his opportunity, and pulled away, back between the queue of cars, which had all now completely stopped to enjoy this unexpected entertainment.

The milling people on the pavements had stopped also, and although one or two of them looked at him curiously none of them made a move to stop him and he ran back past the station, darting between the people milling around. He felt uplifted somehow, even though he knew not a lot had changed. Kirkness was all right, and Sirius knew that his instinctive action meant he could happily leave the Australian with nothing owing. Now he could focus on what he had broken out of Azkaban to do. He growled slightly, thinking of the Rat, causing a passer by to give him a wide berth, but he never even saw the man. However dealing with the Rat wasn't all he had to do and since he was here, he could make a start, so he turned, heading south for the river, Surrey and Harry.

End of Part One