“A dog. A bloody dog…”
Barty paced the length of his cell, fingers drumming against the iron bars as he shot Sirius the occasional glance.
“Yep…” Sirius snorted, voice rough from disuse. “James was a stag. Wormtail... well, he turned out to be a rat. Should’ve seen that one coming.”
“And Lupin?” Barty stopped, gripping his cell door with both hands. His eyes gleamed with interest.
Sirius didn’t answer. He just lowered his gaze to the stone floor, jaw tightening.
Barty’s grin spread slowly. “So it’s true, then. We heard rumors. Makes sense, really… you lot becoming Animagi. All to protect a wolf.”
Sirius met his eyes at last, cold and unblinking.
“Relax,” Barty said with a low chuckle. “I won’t tell anyone. There’s no one left to tell.”
“I worry about him,” Sirius murmured, a deep frown settling between his brows. “All these years without us… without me. Every full moon... Merlin, it kills me wondering what he’s going through.”
Barty’s gaze swept over him, assessing, sharp. “You love him.”
“Of course I do.” Sirius scoffed, but the sound was hollow. “Doesn’t matter, though. He’ll never forgive me.”
“But you’re innocent,” Barty pressed, eyes narrowing as if trying to crack Sirius open.
“He doesn’t know that.” Sirius let out a slow, shaky breath. “And even if I got out… there’s still the implication. The shadow of it. That’s enough to ruin everything.”
“How can we get out?” Barty asked, though it wasn’t really a question. Sirius could see the calculations already lighting up behind his eyes, like gears spinning too fast, like something dangerous waking up.
Sirius swallowed. He’d always known Barty was brilliant; frighteningly so. Top marks in almost everything at Hogwarts, a mind that worked sharper and quicker than most adults’. But brilliance came tangled with something else in him, something jagged and unpredictable. The damage done by his father hadn’t created that mind, but it had certainly twisted it into something volatile.
Sirius shifted on the cold stone floor, watching Barty pace. A genius with a cracked foundation, he thought. That’s the most dangerous kind.
