Godfather

With a bang, the bedroom door was shoved open. Hurried footsteps came from the corridor, and a figure rushed into the sitting room like the wind. Panting, he looked at the man reading the newspaper and said, "Have you seen today's Daily Prophet? Peter's dead. That bastard actually died."

"Don't rush. This isn't like you." Black looked up at his old friend, poured him a glass of Butterbeer, and gestured for him to take a drink and catch his breath. "I just saw it in the paper. They said Peter died of illness in Azkaban."

"This is suspicious." Lupin took a deep breath. "He couldn't have died of illness in Azkaban so quickly. You know what I mean."

"You suspect Peter used some method to escape." Black frowned, seemingly considering the possibility. Having been imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years, he knew the state of the prison well and had more right to speak on the matter than most.

His old friend's words were biased, but as far as Sirius knew, many wizards went mad and died within weeks of entering Azkaban. But Peter... Remus was right to consider it. Peter had a history of faking his death—twice, in fact.

Why couldn't there be a third time?

"Not just that." Lupin drained his Butterbeer in one gulp, caught his breath, and continued. "I heard Mrs. Peter visited him in prison before he died. A few days after returning, she went mad, set a fire, and burned herself and the entire house."

"The paper didn't report that. And how did she get into Azkaban?" Black's brow furrowed deeply. He increasingly felt that Remus's guess was right. Something was wrong here.

Their old companion might really have escaped from prison.

The two carefully leafed through the Daily Prophet from the day before