Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to the incomparable J. K. Rowling.
AN: This story is 27 chapters long and will be updatedtwice a week! Enjoy!
Chapter One
"Morning, Bill," he said over the tinkling of a bell as he entered the cramped shop, "What's new in the world today?" The man behind the counter had a face crumpled with experience, a smile as crooked as his flat cap and blue eyes that sparkled behind his bifocals.
"Morning to you and all," he slapped the Daily Mail onto the counter and pointed to the headline with a blunt finger, the nail cracked and yellow with age. "Bloody 'Tories are at it again, never get anything right. It's a disgrace." Severus gave the front page a cursory glance and nodded in sympathy. Bill never wanted to actually discuss the inner workings of British politics, he just liked to grumble. "I suppose you'll be wanting your usual?"
"Naturally," Severus responded with a wry smile. He'd been coming to Bill's corner shop every Saturday morning since he'd been old enough to get away with buying cigarettes. At first, it had merely been a rebellion against the restriction of his school years but, as time went on, he found himself craving the familiarity and the contact with the muggle world. It was his touchstone, it kept him grounded.
"'Ere, we are then. I picked out a goodun for you. One packet of Luckies," he placed it on the counter, "one packet of prawn cocktail crisps," the pink packet joined the cigarettes on the counter, "and one novelty lighter," it was powder blue and covered in kittens.
Severus chuckled as he handed over a ten-pound note. "An admirable choice, I'm sure." Bill gave him his change and, as always, Severus dropped it into the charitable collection tin on the counter. Bill was currently collecting for a local youth centre. "What happened to the animal shelter collection?"
"'Ad to stop, even with donations there isn't enough money to keep the place open. An 'ealth inspector found asbestos in the roof and that was the straw that broke the back." He pointed to a flier that read ALL ANIMALS MUST GO and sighed. "It's a damn shame. They do good work, 'ardly ever put an animal down." Severus squinted at the address, it was only a few streets away. Maybe there was something he could do to help? He'd always had a soft spot for animals.
"It's a shame indeed," he said as he made for the door. "I'll see you next week, Bill." He left to the sound of the tinkling bell and Bill grumbling into his cuppa.
It was cold for August. A thick fog hung over town, more than just the usual smog from the nearest city. It was almost as chilling as the creatures causing it. He lit a cigarette with his ridiculous lighter as he strode through the quiet streets, eyes downcast and on the look out to avoid stepping in any … undesirable substances. Although it would only take a simple scourgify to clean them, he would prefer to avoid the mess in the first place. There was nothing less dignified than stepping in dog poo, no matter who you were. Terraced houses lined the pavement on his left and a scraggly row of trees, planted a few years ago as part of a "revitalisation project" that was never completed, was on his right. They were supposed to brighten up the small and vandalised play park behind them.
He saw a few people he recognised as regular Saturday-morning-routiners. The two older ladies at the bus stop he imagined to be on their way for a blue-rinse. A dog walker or two. A young woman he'd seen running almost every Saturday in the last year, come rain or shine. He didn't acknowledge any of them. He never did. The Cokeworth Animal Shelter was a squat looking building with a small, gravel car park. The paint was cracked and weather-worn. The windows were in desperate need of a wash. Another bell tinkled as he pushed the stiff door open.
"Good morning, sir." The woman behind the counter gave him a bright smile and stood up to greet him. "You'll be here to see the animals, then? Planning on taking one home?" He opened his mouth to reply that he was merely here to have a look, but she didn't give him a chance. "Follow me, and I'll take you straight through. Lucky for you, we've not been so busy this morning!" She lifted up a hinged part of the counter and gestured him through a door. A quick trip down a shabby hallway led to a large room, not dissimilar to a warehouse, filled with large kennels. It was surprisingly quiet but the smell was definitely one that Severus recognised.
"As you can see," the woman gestured to the entire room with a sweep of her arm, "we've managed to home most of the animals we had in. The smaller ones, rabbits, hamsters and such, went to the big shelter in Manchester, but they just don't have extra room for dogs and cats. Are you looking for a dog or a cat today, Mister …?"
"Snape," he supplied automatically.
"Stacey," the woman grasped his hand and shook it enthusiastically, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Snape. So, which is it then? Are you a dog person or a cat person?"
"I honestly don't know, I've never had either."
"That's alright," she smiled warmly at him, "lots of folk come in here without knowing what they're looking for. Just have a wander round and see who you connect with. I'll be just over here." She pointed to a kitchenette in the corner.
"Right then, I'll just …" he mimed walking around, felt stupid and let his arms drop to his side. Stacey beamed at him and trotted off towards the kettle, no longer paying him any mind.
Severus started to wander along the aisles. A lot of them stood empty. The first occupied kennel housed a tabby cat proclaimed to be Miss Marple. He cautiously approached the wire mesh and crouched down to get a better look. Miss Marple hissed at him and he backed away. Much the same thing happened every time he approached an occupied kennel. A dog called Pixie backed away from him as he neared. A black cat, imaginatively name named Smokey, ignored him completely. And a tiny terrier barked at him aggressively. It happened over and over again, until he came to the kennel of a black and white border collie. The dog pressed its nose right up to the mesh to meet him. Severus extended his hand and was rewarded with a wet, warm tongue. Later, if asked about how he chose his dog, he would neglect to mention the warm, fuzzy feeling that filled him from head to toe as the dog licked at his fingers. He looked to the sign on the door and read Hello, my name is Butch. I'm 3 years old and a female Border Collie.
"Butch?" he asked the dog. She looked him in the eye as he spoke her name. "Is that your name? Do you like it?" He felt a little silly talking to a dog, but she licked at his fingers encouragingly. "Well, I don't. It's going to have to go." The shuffle of shoes behind him had him standing up quickly, he nearly drew his wand before seeing that it was only Stacey.
"Yes!" She was grinning rather manically. "This is your dog, I just know it."
Getting home had been an education. Butch stopped to sniff everything – trees, lampposts, people – and tugged excitedly on her lead to try and chase after anything that moved. It didn't matter to her whether it was a squirrel, a leaf, or an empty chip shop wrapper. She did her … business … twice on the short walk home and, though he was used to dealing with a multitude of disgusting potions ingredients, he couldn't quite bring himself to use the plastic bags Stacey provided for him. A discreet evenasco solved this.
Within moments of getting through the front door to his small end-terrace, she had knocked over a stack of books and upset a the floo powder from its place on the mantle piece. It was clear that dog-proofing would have to be his first order of business. Severus was so wrapped up with Butch that he forgot all about Wormtail until the vermin in question burst through the concealed door and let out a yelp of fright.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Wormtail," Severus drawled, instantly back in what he liked to think of as "big bad Death Eater" mode, "it's only a dog. It's not going to bite, at least not whilst you're in human form."
"B- but what is it even doing here?" The rodentesque man cowered against an over-stuffed bookshelf. "I didn't know the D- Dark Lord required a dog."
"It's not for the Dark Lord, Wormtail. It's mine. And it is a she." He crouched down to talk to her, pointing at Wormtail as he did so. "Butch, this is Wormtail. He's going to be here for a while. I'm sorry about the smell, but there's nothing I can do about it. We just have to deal with it."
"If the Dark Lord heard you ta-" Wormtail started.
"But he's not going to hear, is he?" Severus fixed the animagus with a stare that had been known to make even the bravest of Gryffindors cry. "You wouldn't dare bother him with something so trivial. We all have our crosses to bear, Wormtail, this is yours and you are mine. Now, get out of my sight."
"Bu-"
"Now!" His shout was punctuated with a sharp bark from Butch and Wormtail jumped before beating a hasty retreat back to his bedroom.
Severus spent the remainder of the day making the house suitable for Butch. Liberal use of temporary sticking charms soon had the kitchen and living room sorted. Butch became more restless as the day went on, eventually prompting Severus to change into a ratty old t-shirt, a pair of jogging bottoms and the beat-up trainers he kept for gardening. They were going for a run.
He hadn't run for years but the endless stairs at Hogwarts kept him in pretty good shape, how hard could it be? Famous last words. He was gasping for breath after the first mile, clutching a stitch after the second, and collapsed on the living room floor after the third. Butch didn't seem to have the same issues. She practically bounced into the kitchen to lap up water from a bowl Severus had laid out for her earlier that day before coming to nuzzle at him as he lay clutching his side. He threw a locking charm at the concealed door that led to the upper landing. It would not do for Wormtail to see him like this. He didn't want anyone to see him like this for the rest of his days. He couldn't quite believe the things he was doing for a dog he hadn't even known existed when he'd left that house that morning. Oh, what a difference a day makes.
Over the next few days, he developed a new, rather dog-centred, routine. He'd awake to Butch licking his face. He'd try and get her to answer to a variety of other names. Akela, Juniper, and Calliope were his current favourites. He'd give up after barely an hour, reverting to calling her Butch as it was the only name she would answer to. They would go for a run and Severus gradually started to feel less like he would collapse each time. He actually decided to give her a bath one afternoon. He found the old metal tub he'd been forced to bathe in as a child and filled it with a casual wave of his hand. He'd always been able to produce water from seemingly nowhere; it was a family gift, much like his Occlumency. Butch seemed to have other ideas and point blank refused to get into the tub. After about half an hour of wrestling, pleading and barking, he gave up and settled for a well cast scourgify instead. And then, when evening came, they would … snuggle. He hated to admit it, but it was definitely snuggling. She would climb into his lap when he read on the couch and bury her nose into the crack between his waist and the armrest. He'd read until he was so tired that his eyes began to itch, and then she would follow him up to bed.
It was almost perfect. If Wormtail hadn't been there and Severus couldn't feel the war looming over him, it might have been just that. He was happier than he had been in years and he had Butch to thank for it. All too soon, the realities of an imperfect world came crashing back when he felt his Dark Mark sear painfully. Perfect was for dreamers.