Icy Heart #wattys2017

The Escape

"It's happening, Sirius," whispered Icy. "I can hear footsteps. Tonight we leave."

"Concentrate, Icy," he urged the witch.

"I can see the keys," she whispered, her eyes shut tightly. "They're floating towards us... Catch 'em!" Her eyes flew open as the metal key ring dropped into Sirius's hand.

"He's coming back this way!" Sirius hissed, and Icy snatched the keys, shoving them in her mouth and scuttling into her cell. She lay down on the floor and closed her eyes.

"Sirius Black," the auror threw Sirius a glare, and Sirius smirked, writing a word in the crossword puzzle on his newspaper. "Where'd you get that, Black?"

"The Minister of Magic," Sirius snarled, and the auror nodded, walking away slowly. The feeling of warmth that had came onto the prison along with his patronus disappeared, and the Dementors returned.

"Why aren't you all shaken up, Ice? That's a fricking Dementor, you know? They suck people's souls out?"

Icy crawled back into Sirius's cell, and spat out the keys, leaning on him for warmth. "I'm semi-immune," she said. "70% Dementor-proof."

"That's not possible," Sirius shook his head.

"I'm a fricking goddess, Black. Anything is possible. Now do you want to rot in here for all eternity? Or will you unlock this metal death trap, and carry me out on your fluffy puppy back?"

"Patience, grasshopper," said Sirius. "There are too many Dementors floating about right now. We'll wait until most of them go to the lower floors."

"And until then what am I to do, eh Sirius?"

"Plan your freedom, Artemis," Sirius chuckled. "I'm going to rest."

"You do that," said Icy, and she began to wait for the sky to fade from orange to black.

"Sirius! Let's go!" Icy shoved her friend the second the last Dementor in their corridor left. "It won't be gone for long! Get up you lump!"

"I'm up," Sirius made his way to the edge of the cell, and reached his arm out, unlocking it. He then transformed into his animagus form, and let Icy climb onto his large back, allowing his fur to morph around her small body.

And then he ran.

Down six flights of wooden stairs, through ten cell filled corridors, out an arch, and into the ocean. There were surprisingly no Dementors about, and Sirius smiled as much as a dog could, doggy-paddling his way deeper into the sea, almost forgetting that there was a child on his back.

Sirius swam as though his life depended on it.

Because it did.