Author's Notes: For the slythindor100 advent challenge.
Warning: Contains a puppy being briefly vulnerable to the elements (but don't worry, there's definitely a happy ending!)
It took Harry five years to admit that it was time (past time, really) to find himself some companionship.
Hermione, when he'd mentioned the idea, eagerly offered to introduce him to one of her cousin's friends. Harry had been forced to swiftly quash any matchmaking tendencies by pointing out that a blind date that probably wouldn't work out beyond, at most, a one-night stand hadn't been the kind of companionship he'd been thinking of.
For a while now, he'd wanted something permanent; something (or someone, but that sadly seemed doomed to never happen) that wouldn't up and leave him after just a month or so.
It would be his Christmas present to himself, Harry decided.
When Harry arrived at the menagerie, he could barely even bring himself to look in the direction of the preening owls. It still didn't feel right to replace Hedwig. Maybe it never would.
So when Harry walked out of the shop, it wasn't with an occupied owl cage, but nor was he empty handed. A plethora of last-minute Christmas shoppers on Diagon Alley stared (and, in many cases, cooed) at his armful of squirming puppy. It was strangely nice, Harry decided, to have people be too distracted by a furry little creature to even notice that the man carrying it was 'the' Harry Potter. A girl who looked to be a year or so too young to attend Hogwarts even asked if she could pet him without once even glancing directly at Harry, scritching the puppy just above his brand new collar when Harry agreed.
The dog seemed pleased by the attention, and by being carried about like he was some kind of royalty. The one thing he didn't take so well to was being Apparated from the familiar sights and sounds of Diagon Alley to a quiet and shadowy dip just off the footpath outside Harry's flat.
"Sorry," Harry said as the puppy stumbled about in the light layer of snow and made sick, hacking sounds for a while. Harry couldn't blame him. Even after years of practice, Apparition still sometimes made Harry's stomach feel a little unsettled. "I won't do that to you again, I promise."
Harry eventually reached down and snagged the end of the leash that had been dangling uselessly along the ground, tugging gently. The puppy put up a pretty firm resistance, though not because he was still being sick. Instead, he was now busy sniffing at the base of the nearby lamp post and, despite getting a nose full of cold powdery snow for his efforts, he didn't seem keen to let up.
"Come on," Harry said, tugging just a little bit harder, though still not enough to move the puppy unless he decided for himself that he wanted to move. "You can come back out and mark your territory later."
The dog eventually capitulated, for all that he didn't seem keen on setting the first paw inside Harry's flat. Once Harry unclipped his leash, he hung about in the corner of the living room, making tiny, sad noises that damn near broke Harry's heart to hear.
Harry looked away from the dog, pulling his wand out and unshrinking the bag of pet supplies he'd purchased. Harry hoped to set up the puppy's things for him to make the new addition to Harry's house feel welcome as quickly as possible. Giving him food and drink, toys and a place of his own to curl up was really the least Harry could do after suddenly relocating him from everything he had known to date in his short life.
It took quite a while for it to start registering in the back of Harry's mind that he could no longer hear the tiny whining noises. Harry turned back around and found that the corner, and the rest of the room, was unoccupied.
A frantic sweep of the rest of the flat revealed no sign of any life other than Harry's, which was unsurprising considering how Harry spied the front door hanging ever so slightly open. Apparently Harry hadn't quite latched it properly after himself, too distracted by the puppy's reticence to accompany him in. The wards were designed to prevent anyone or anything unwelcome from getting inside, not to keep things there when they were of a mind to leave.
Harry rushed out the door, peering intently in all directions, accounting for the fact that the puppy was pale enough to blend in a little against the snow. The dog was clearly no longer on this stretch of street. To make matters worse, the small puppy's tread was so light that the falling snow and the abundance of deeper human footsteps winding their way confusingly all along the street made it difficult to figure out even which general direction the dog had gone. Harry suddenly wished he'd paid more attention to Muggle tracking methods during Auror training.
It wouldn't have been a problem if Harry'd had time to put a tracking charm on the puppy, of course, but as it was, the only magical precautions were the ones that came standard with the collar. The shop assistant at the menagerie had mentioned a nice array of inbuilt charms that would compel Muggles to return the puppy to Harry's flat and would let any witch or wizard know who the owner was and how to contact him. Relying on those was hardly sufficient, though, when the dog in question was young enough that he must have been only recently weaned, and when he was trudging about alone in the cold. Not to mention that the puppy's pale coat blended in well enough against the snow that a passing car probably wouldn't spot him.
Harry felt ill at the thought, not to mention angry at himself. Here he was, apparently so enthusiastic about acquiring a long-term companion, and yet Harry hadn't even taken precautions to make sure the puppy was safe with him. True, he hadn't left the house intending to purchase a dog, but surely his very first move when he got back should have been to make sure the flat was animal-friendly and well-shut up before daring to leave his new pet to his own devices. He couldn't blame the dog; Harry was still a stranger to it – he hadn't even had time to name him – so of course the puppy wanted to run off seeking more familiar turf the minute Harry's back was turned. Harry should have expected that, and taken steps to stop it.
This was all Harry's own damn fault, then.
Harry was just gathering up his coat to go out looking for the dog – maybe that so-called luck people had always associated with Harry would finally be good for saving a life other than his own – when he was interrupted by a knock on his front door.
Harry had known Draco Malfoy must have lived on one of the neighbouring streets, having seen him out for a walk a few times in better weather. That didn't mean that he'd ever expected to open his door to find the man waiting patiently on Harry's doorstep, especially in the snow, and even more especially with Harry's puppy snuggled against his chest.
"I think you might have lost something," Draco said.
A relieved noise sounded from deep in Harry's throat as he immediately reached for the dog. Draco held out his arms, and the puppy crawled across into Harry's grasp easily. The Slytherin scarf that Harry had initially thought Draco had been wearing around his neck came with the puppy, bundled around him several times, clearly intended to be for warmth (which was probably the only reason the puppy hadn't already squirmed free of this confinement).
Harry looked up at Draco again. "Thank you," he said, his tone heartfelt. He thought that might have been the first time either of them had ever said those words to the other, for all that they'd saved each other's lives to one degree or another and had long since been on more or less civil terms.
"Oh, well, I have a soft spot for puppies, and I could tell he wanted to come home," Draco said, nodding at the puppy. "I was just giving him a ride."
Harry snorted. "Yeah right. Wanted to come home? He couldn't get away fast enough. I only bought him today, and there he was, straight off like a shot the very first second he could slip away. Figures not even my own dog would waste a chance to hightail it away from me," Harry said self-deprecatingly.
"Oh, I don't think it had as much to do with getting away from anyone as it was to do with getting to someone," Draco assured him. "I made a recent purchase at the menagerie in Diagon Alley myself, you see, and my puppy's been running all about the neighbourhood scenting everything in sight. I think your dog might have caught a whiff and recognised his smell. Easy enough to follow it up a few blocks, even in this weather."
"You've got a dog?" Harry asked stupidly. He didn't know why he felt so disbelieving. Had he expected that Draco Malfoy was too selfish to voluntarily spend time caring for a pet? Or was it that Harry had thought the only types of animals Draco would be interested in would be dangerous and scaly rather than adorable furballs that typically didn't do anything more objectionable than chew on your valuables and lick your nose without warning?
Either way, Harry felt like an idiot, because he actually knew that Draco had changed since school; since the war. He wasn't that arrogant kid anymore. And if Harry had doubted that Draco had a lot of selfless affection to go around, Harry only had to recall the careful way Draco had just been cradling Harry's puppy against him and had thoughtfully warmed him after his bout in the snow to correct himself.
This, Harry realised, was a man he could certainly stand to get to know better.
"Would you, er, mind if... would it be too much to ask to come round to yours? Only," Harry quickly added when he saw the way Draco's eyebrows twitched, "I think it's pretty obvious my new pet's seriously desperate for a familiar face, and maybe something of a playmate as well. I don't want him to think he has to risk trekking through the streets to find what he's after."
"I wouldn't dream of splitting them up," Draco said. "Seems they might have been fast friends, back in the shop. It's not their fault we went and separated them so soon."
When Harry visited Draco's place the following day, he watched avidly as his light-furred puppy raced immediately up to the black ball of fluff that seemed to belong to Draco. There was no hesitation, or anything at all between them but joy and friendship, despite how briefly they must have known each other so far. Harry was forcibly reminded of another pair of barely-acquainted children, equally light and dark to look at, but who hadn't mirrored this lucky outcome to their early meetings.
How different things might have been if he and Draco had got along from the start... if he'd shaken Draco's hand on that train, despite his misgivings... if Draco had grown up just a little earlier, and become this person that Harry couldn't imagine feeling any dislike towards while they'd still been together at school...
There would have been far fewer hurdles standing in Harry's way now, if any of those things had happened.
Then again, Harry reminded himself, just because they'd wasted some time along the way didn't mean it was too late. They'd changed from being enemies, hadn't they? They could change even more.
They could be more to each other than just two people who nodded silently as they passed in the Ministry halls, barely acknowledging each other except to be minimally polite. They just had to both want to get to know each other, was all. It didn't hurt that their pets gave them a perfectly valid reason to spend time together and see where it took them.
They could be friends, finally.
Or, Harry thought speculatively, observing the attractive smile that was playing at Draco's lips as he watched their two puppies chasing each other's tails, maybe they could be even more.
After all, Harry had been hoping for a while now that he might meet someone who might stick around.
And he'd never been able to really rid himself of Draco Malfoy, had he?
~FIN~