Hey, there! Again, if you clicked on this you're just plain awesome. I'm still working on my other story, I just decided to start this one out of the blue due to what happened today. Rudy, one of my two beloved rabbits died this morning, and I unknowingly was watching him during the point at which he actually passed away. This has been really hard for me, but writing this story (and reading "The Velveteen Rabbit" again), has helped a lot. When I wrote the death of the puppy, I completely unintentionally described it exactly as I saw my little Rudy pass. :( Also, the name of the puppy is the result of me reminiscing on my past pets; "Balto" was the name of one of my first cats.

This is set around the time before-ish Christmas of Harry's first year.

ooooooooooooooooo

Little Harry started in shock at the sight before his eyes. The small, brown puppy writhed in pain once more letting out one last labored breath, its side ceasing to rise. Harry felt his throat grow tight and eyes begin to water.

"Balto?" he whispered tentatively, gently petting the pup's lifeless head. Garnering no response, Harry anxiously began stroking they puppy's whole body, his tears beginning to flow freely. "Balto please, wake up! You've got to wake up, now!" he cried, protectively leaning over the pup. "Don't worry, boy, I'll find someone to help you," the young Gryffindor whimpered, tenderly picking up the small, furry body.

As Harry frantically ran through the dark corridors, the rational side of his mind knew he had a slim chance of finding a teacher to help him at this hour of the night. Yet, he just couldn't give up hope for his small friend. Openly crying all the way, Harry ran and ran through corridor after corridor, till at last, exhausted, he stopped and sat down right in the middle of the darkness, clinging to and sobbing over his lost companion.

Sobs were continuing to wrack the small boy's body when a light suddenly shone on him from above. Harry immediately recognized the sneering voice which came from behind the light that he now saw was issuing from the tip of a black wand.

"Fancy finding you out here, Potter," Snape sneered, reaching down and pulling Harry up by the top of his robes, which the boy had hurriedly situated to drape over the bundle in his arms. Despite the harsh tug, Harry couldn't bring himself to look up at the Potions Master, or stop crying. "Don't think you can pull one over on me with that worthless sniveling. If you're bold enough to step out of your tower, walk to the other side of the castle and sit right in the middle of the floor like a complete nitwit, then you can certainly face the consequences," Snape bit out, tugging again on the boy's robes to start walking.

"I will not be taking you to Professor McGonagall tonight, where you will most certainly be let off with no more than a slap on the wrist. No, Potter, we are going to my office this time," Snape finished, pulling Harry along at a brisk pace.

oooooooooooooooooo

Through all Snape's fury, Harry's head remained downcast and tears remained streaming down his face, hiccoughs catching in his throat. While they were walking, he could do nothing but focus on not tripping and dropping what was carefully laid in his arms, the sound of the Potions Master's boots clicking on the stone floor resonating through the empty corridors.

As they stepped into the professor's drafty office in the dungeons, Snape swished his wand over the lamps on the wall which flickered on, and finally the fireplace, which roared to life and gave the dank room a nice, toasty feel. The Potions Master steered Harry over to a chair facing his desk, sat him down in it, and was about to turn away when his eye caught sight of a rather large lump beneath the still weeping boy's robes, which he seemed to be cradling against his chest.

"And exactly what, pray I ask, are you sorely attempting to hide under your robes, Potter?" Snape questioned, raising a disdainful eyebrow. Without much provocation, Harry began to sob hysterically once again; seemingly unaware that he was doing so in front of his hated potions professor.

Harry just couldn't hold it in anymore; even though Snape's words were not necessarily that cutting, per se, it still felt like he was sprinkling salt on a fresh wound.

"Potter, open up your cloak," Snape sniped. When the boy still refused to do so, Severus stalked to the chair, spun it around to face himself, and, muttering, "For the love of Merlin," unfastened Harry's cloak. To his surprise, he saw before his eyes a small, brown dog which appeared to be, upon closer inspection, dead.

At the revelation of his 'secret', Harry clutched the puppy even closer to his chest, his tears wetting its brown fur. He watched as Snape stepped back a bit to think; he couldn't ever image Snape as being one whose realm of expertise included sobbing first years clasping dead puppies.

Severus stepped towards Harry again, a pensive look on his face. "Would you care to inform me of what exactly is going on here, Potter?" he drawled, looking pointedly at the puppy. "Yes, Mr. Potter?" he prodded, when Harry had yet to respond.

Harry took a deep, shaky breath. "It's Balto, Professor," he paused to take another breath. "He…well, you see…we were walking and this"-sniff-"snake just came from out of nowhere and bit him," Harry whimpered, then continued on, fresh tears coming to his eyes, "Then he just started w-writhing around, a-and he was h-hurting so much, but I didn't know what to do! It's all my f-fault!" he finished, burying his face in the now-cool fur again and quietly sobbing.

Snape stood staring at the sight, still not quite knowing what to do. "Potter, you do realize there was no way you could have known what to do," he said, in about as gentle a voice as Harry had ever heard him use. Severus cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"P-professor," Harry began meekly, "There's not any potion you could give him to, you know- I mean…" he managed to choke out, before Snape cut him off. "You must be aware, Mr. Potter, that there is no potion, or spell, for that matter, that can resurrect the dead, be it human or animal," Snape replied sternly.

"I know, professor, but…" Harry began again miserably, unable to finish. Snape sighed. He didn't want another fresh bout of tears; he might as well attempt to mollify the child a bit. "Give me dog, Potter," Snape commanded. Harry looked at him reproachfully, causing the Potions Master to sigh. "I just want to see him Potter. No harm will be done." Harry, reluctantly, carefully handed the pup over to his professor.

Snape gently took the dog and walked over to a taller table where he laid him down, the whole while shadowed by the small Gryffindor's protective eye. He waved his wand over the small form, then physically checked it with his hands. Harry stood right beside him (an anomaly which Severus thought was quite bizarre), and reached out to stroke the pup after Snape had been still for a few moments.

When Severus looked down at Harry he saw, for a fleeting moment, not the arrogant, self-centered, idiotic spawn of James Potter; he saw, for just that moment an incredibly heartbroken, teary-eyed little boy, stroking his beloved departed puppy.

Snape quickly shook those thoughts from his head, blaming them on the lateness of the hour, yet surprised himself when he put a tentative hand on the small boy's shoulder. "This animal isn't coming back, Potter. He's long gone," Severus said. Harry smashed his eyes shut, causing a few stray tears to leak out the corners, took a deep, hitched breath, then gave a quick nod of his head.

"Why don't we sit down and discuss more of what happened tonight," Snape suggested, gently leading Harry back to the chair in front of his desk, then going back and placing a cloth over the puppy.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wowzers, how's that for drama? I'm not sure if I want to add more to this story, since right now it's kinda written as one-shot. But anyway, if just one person wants to read what happens next, I'll gladly write some more chapters. :) Thanks for reading!

Please R&R!