Sirius Black been running for days - weeks - months, even. He was exhausted, and famished, his stomach growling deeply as he flopped into the grass north of Dufftown. His fur was damp and matted from a mid afternoon downpour, and he was cold and the pads of his feet felt blistered and rough. He used his wide, dry tongue to try at soothing the painful pads.

He hadn't dared to turn back into a human in weeks, not since that woman in Dufftown had recognized him when he'd been trying at nabbing some of the left over chips and hunks of uneaten food from a dumpster behind a restaurant.  Snuffles had been too weak to jump in and Sirius himself had leaned in to fish about when he heard the back door of the restaurant open - too unexpectedly to hide - and there she'd been. The older woman's gray hair reminded Sirius of straw on a scarecrow.

"YOU!" she had cried out in a horrified voice. "I saw you on the telly!"

Sirius waved to her with a lazy wrist. "Did you now?" he asked. His voice was lower, gravelly-er than he had expected and it surprised even himself how menacing he sounded.

The woman had thrown down the bag of rubbish she'd just been about to chuck in the dumpster, and she turned, running back inside.

"Good talk," Sirius muttered.

He had turned back into Snuffles and dragged the rubbish bag off, away into the woods, where he tore it open and feasted - though he stayed a dog just in case any muggle policeymen came about.

Jam-buttys, he thought, remembering the night Jasper Odair had taught him the phrase. He wondered how ol' Odair was, where he might have ended up in life...?

But that really had been the last day Sirius had been human. That was back in the first week of September, and now -- Bloody hell if he knew what day it was. He wasn't particularly astute at telling as a man any longer, thanks to the constant dreary darkness of Azkaban. It was never really day or night there, just... gray or more gray. And as a dog - when he couldn't see his moon calendar on his wrist - he had no concept of time left to him.

But he was watching the moon now, high above the trees over the castle, rising up behind the spires. He lay on the stone in front of the cavern, and he watched it shine, missing but a sliver of it's full self.

Somewhere in those halls, Remus Lupin was limping about, dreading the next night. Somewhere, he was hurting as the waxing gibbous burned his muscles and made his bones stiff. Sirius hoped that Remus was sitting in a comfortable chair, sipping hot aconite tea and reading a book. He hoped Remus was alright, hoped someone was taking care for him...

Had Remus remarried? Sirius wondered. Did someone else keep him safe from himself during the full moons these days, or was Sirius's absence felt each full moon? Did Remus ever think about him, the way he, Sirius, had spent the last twelve years thinking about Remus?

...and James, and Lily, of course...

...and Peter fucking Pettigrew.

Sirius growled lowly at the thought of the rat, and his eyes travelled up to the glowing windows of Gryffindor Tower. In there, he thought. In that very tower, the rat lay asleep like the old days, comfortable and warm and well fed.. while he, Sirius, lay here cold and wet, picking through rubbish for scraps of food.

He needed to find his way into the castle - and soon, or else he would go even madder than he had already gone, just thinking about Peter Pettigrew and the fact that he had the audacity to share the dorm with Harry after what he had done to James and Lily.