Work Text:
BECOMING PADFOOT
It had taken the best part of two years to get this right. So many times he had failed and each failure was like a punch to his gut. He wanted, no, needed to be the first one to do it. It was his idea after all. It would be so easy not to bother with it at all. All this pissing around with a leaf in his mouth and all the other crap that went with it was beginning to take its toll. But there was always one thing that kept him going, through every failed attempt, the thought of him. The one he was doing this for.
This was it. He had a real chance tonight. He imagined what it would be like, after all this time to finally succeed. He sat on the ledge as the storm raged outside his window, the noise from the rain lashing against the tower drowning out the usual snorts and snores in the dormitory. Sirius clutched the phial in his hand, the blood-red potion clashing violently with his pale hand in the moonlight. He had been waiting for hours, fully dressed, James’ cloak resting on his knees, waiting for the sign. He was not what you’d call a patient boy. He had trouble keeping still at the best of times and he certainly never shut up (according to the sharp-tongued Lily Evans). The waiting was literally killing him. In frustration he flicked his wand towards Peter’s bed and the velvet drapes that hung around the solid, oak frame opened slowly. With another swish of his wand the red eiderdown slid to the bottom of the bed. Peter grumbled in his sleep and scrabbled around to re-cover his pyjama-clad body. In a flash, Sirius had removed the eiderdown again. Stifling his laughter with the back of his hand he repeated the process a few more times until he thought Peter might actually wake up. As bored as he was, he couldn’t let anyone catch him out of bed.
Not even James.
Tonight was his night.
Suddenly, lightning illuminated the sky like someone had let off ten galleons worth of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. Sirius was under the cloak and heading down the stairs before the thunder had even had a chance to rumble. Out of the common room and down towards the Great Hall he went, finding it increasingly difficult to contain his excitement the closer he got to his destination. As he reached the tapestry of Ragnuk the First he was so agitated that he almost pulled it from the wall. He took a breath to steady himself, placed his wand on the tapestry, lightly touching the sword the Goblin was holding and whispered ‘Dissendium’. The tapestry fluttered in the bottom right-hand corner as if caught in a strong breeze and then rolled itself up just enough for the boy to climb through. Now, in the safe solitude of the tunnel, he was no longer worried about making a noise. He raced along the secret passageway, the beam from his wand tip casting grotesque shadows all around him. It was difficult to maintain speed and keep low, so more than once, the silence was filled with a flurry of expletives as his head made painful contact with the low ceiling. When Sirius finally felt grass underfoot, he breathed a sigh of relief. The storm was still in full swing and though James’ cloak kept him fairly dry from the pelting rain, his feet sloshed through mud and puddles as he made his way to the Forbidden Forest.
Safely hidden amongst the trees and out of the moonlight he removed the cloak and laid it carefully on an old stump. He may be careless with most of his own possessions, but he knew James would hex him into next week if anything happened to that cloak!
‘Well, this is it, Black’ he said to himself. ‘This is the moment you’ve been waiting for’.
He flexed his shoulders and rolled his head from side to side as if he were warming up for a fight. Here in the forest and about to take on the biggest, most dangerous adventure of his life, Sirius felt suddenly very alone. Usually his crazy antics would find at least James by his side, if not the whole band of the ‘Marauders’ as they had called themselves. Alone he felt weird. It was almost unnatural not to have anyone by his side. The loneliness made him even more determined. Is this how he felt every month? Locked up in the Shrieking Shack like a monster? Well, that was all about to change.
This was it. His chance to make a difference.
He took the phial in his hand, removing the cork with a flick of his wand, he took a deep breath and placed the wand tip over his heart. Nervously he began to chant..
‘Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus’.
His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest.
‘Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus’ he repeated, stronger this time.
He gasped as he felt a second heartbeat thumping lightly, a little out of time with his own.
‘Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus! ’ he chanted, his voice fighting against the sound of the storm.
That moment, a ferocious fork of lightning zig-zagged above the trees. Sirius downed the disgusting potion in one gulp. A second later he hit the forest floor, doubled up in agony. The pain was so intense he thought for one cowardly moment that he might die. His fingertips were on fire and the two opposing heartbeats seemed to be battling for top position inside his chest. He cried out as the fire travelled from his fingers, to his wrists and up his arms. As the burning heat met in his chest, his eyes clouded over and he was momentarily blinded. Writhing on the ground, terrified and alone, the fog began to clear. Just at the corners of his eyes at first, like someone was peeling away a blindfold. He could vaguely make out a big, black shape if he concentrated hard enough. Clearer and clearer the shape became until he saw it perfectly, in all its magnificence. In that moment his vision intensified. He could see everything, regardless of the darkness of the forest. His hearing seemed to be enhanced too. The noise of the storm was absolutely deafening though he could still make out the call of an owl in the distance and he was sure he heard the Giant Squid splashing about in the Black Lake. Suddenly, and without warning, his back arched to such a degree that he thought it would snap. Then, before he even had a chance to recover, he was flipped onto his hands and knees, his head thrown back to the sky. His skin began to prickle, his entire body itched like a thousand fire ants were running all over him. His whole body jolted once and he collapsed, face down in the moss and dirt.
Sirius didn’t know how long he had lain there but when his eyes opened again, he saw the world anew. The colours were somehow different but unbelievably clear. He felt strong and athletic. His mind was open and fresh like he had just awoken from a really good sleep. He pulled himself up from the floor and shook himself free of the leaves and debris that clung to his hair. He padded proudly out of the forest and into the night air. Feeling cocky, he started running, the wind whipping his face and the rain bouncing off his back. Off he sped, faster and faster, his feet silent as they skimmed the wet grass. He slammed to a stop as he reached the waters edge, almost toppling in head-first.
‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, Black’ he thought to himself. ‘Practice makes perfect’.
Just then the moon came out from behind one of the many storm clouds that still lingered in the sky. The castle grounds were bathed in light and the Black Lake became a giant looking-glass.
‘Not bad, mate’, Sirius thought appreciatively as he stared at his own reflection. ‘Not bad at all’.
The black shaggy hair was positively Sirius-like and he was pleased to see that when he cocked his head to one side, his lopsided muzzle and exposed canines had all the hallmarks of his trademark, self-assured grin. His eyes were wide, his ears flat, a vibrating growl deep in his chest. He wagged his tail for good measure and let out a hearty bark that echoed about the open fields. He tried to laugh, making a ridiculous choking sound instead.
Oh yeah, he’d definitely have to work on that.
The great dog flopped down onto the bank and placed his head contentedly on his paws, continuing to admire himself until the moon disappeared behind a cloud once more.
He done it. He’d actually bloody done it! All the waiting, the failed attempts and the excruciating pain was all totally worth it. No longer would his friend have to go through his struggle alone, for he would be there, right by his side.
Of his fellow Marauders, James was Sirius’ closest friend. He knew James would always have his back, Merlin, he would trust him with his life and vice versa. Peter, on the other hand was just ‘there’, like an annoying younger brother or a spot that you picked when it scabbed over.
Remus was a whole other story.
Everything was different with Remus.
Sirius could tell him things he would never dream of telling James. He could be himself with Remus, no front, no attitude, he could just ‘be’. He never felt like he had to put on a show for him, not that he could even if he wanted to. Remus' dark grey eyes seemed to bore right into the very depths of Sirius' soul. There were so many stories behind those eyes. Stories of love and pain, of happiness and of shame. He could get completely and utterly lost in those eyes.
It hurt him deeply each month when Remus would go alone to the Shrieking Shack for his own violent transformation. Sirius would sit on the ledge and look out of the window every night until the full-moon cycle was over. It broke his heart to see Remus thin and tired, knowing the rest of the world saw him as a freak, a monstrosity. But now it would be different. Now the two of them would be free to explore the forest together on those moon-drenched nights. Wolf and dog, he could only imagine the adventures they would have. All too soon James and Peter would succeed in becoming Animagi too and then they would all roam the grounds together. But this night, at least, was purely for Remus and him.
Sirius stood up and started off for the Shrieking Shack, his large feet padding through the wet grass. Maybe now Remus would see just how much he meant to him.
Maybe now he would truly understand.
And maybe,
just maybe,
he would love Sirius right back. 🐾