Sirius wanted to be anywhere but couped up within the torturous walls of 12 Grimmauld Place. It was a place he never wished to return to even if his life depended on it… But it has been insisted, so heavily so that he was left without much of a choice and alas had been forced back into the dreaded home of his cursed childhood. Escaping Azkaban was one thing, but escaping this home? He noted it as perhaps one of his greatest life feats.

String along from the wall to the ceiling hung cobwebs and dust built up upon from years of neglect, a sign the house had since been abandoned.

He set himself down on the old tattered couch, sitting by the fire place for a semblance of warmth within the poorly insulated house — it would do no good to escape a maximum security prison, only to die of hypothermia. He pulled his coat around himself tight and shut his eyes as he dreamt of a better tomorrow.