Husky Harry

Author: insane songbird – any questions? Feel free to ask in the reviews or which ever way you please… If I answer depends on if I want you to know that already.

Summary: Draco Malfoy has lately come in the possession of a Husky. What he doesn't know is that this green-eyed dog is no dog at all but a slightly confused teenage hero who on the flight from his enemy got stuck with a small animagical problem… and a new home at his master's.

Disclaimer: The characters and the universe where this story takes place are property of JKR. I only got some nice ideas how to torture the poor boys for a while…

Warnings: So far there is blood, violence and language… I will update this if anything else crosses my mind.

A/N: Hi, this is my first English fic. Please excuse tiny mistakes (I hope they're just tiny!) thus I'm no native English speaker… Though I think my English is quite good I would love everyone, who notices mistakes to point them out to me, so I can correct them. (But please don't flame me, I don't think I deserve it!) If there is any native speaker out there who would like to beta this for me (or even my other English stuff) I would be very grateful – if not I will just continue with this non beta-ed version. I think it's rather fun to read after all.

Chapter One:

Dungeons and Dogs

He needed to do this and he needed to do it quickly. His mind was reeling and somehow this didn't seem to comfort him at all.

In the last years of is life, there had been many things he needed and many things he had desperately wished to happen. But there had never been anything he had needed so desperately as this.

He knew he could do it. He knew he had to if he wanted to live on. It was about survival and only about this.

That was what made it even more difficult to focus. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he thought it might just jump out and run for it's life without him. But it didn't. Thankfully it didn't.

The stone floor was cold and damp underneath him and in no way comforting for his situation. He hadn't seen daylight for a while and his body was protesting from the uncomfortable situation he was in, from the lack of fresh air and from the need for sun.

This was his only chance, he knew it. And he wanted to take it whatever the costs. Well, what could be worse then this…? So he didn't worry about the costs.

If he didn't do it now, if he didn't leave this instant it might be to late. His chance would be gone and his death would come soon. Too soon.

He took in the looks of his surroundings for what seemed to be the hundredth time: the greyish green of the slightly damp stone, the cold, old looking iron chains and cuffs that held him right in his place, the air smelling like it was centuries old and the bars...

This was what it was all about: the bars. They were think and heavy made of iron and he would bet they were as old as the dungeon itself. Rust coloured them in brown and red but despite all oxidation and time that had worn out the old bars they were as hard and unyielding as ever. Magic.

He hated those bars. The mere look of them made him furious. They stood so close that a cat wouldn't have fit through. This was his problem.

Even if he came loose from his chains there was no way to physically cross the line of bars in front of him.

But not now. Now there was a way. Now he could cross it, he could get past this barrier. He just needed to get loose from his chains.

Because the door was open. YES, the door to his cell was open. The iron bars forming it were still there but it was not locked. He was sure of that.

He had watched closely as the last of his captors had left and forgot to lock it because he was so joyous about the fact that the occupant of this dungeon would be killed soon.

Everyone would have thought that he would have been too shocked to see such a tiny detail. But when you're fearing for your life and when you're so desperate to flee, you will look for every small thing that might save your life.

He hadn't heard the lock rattling as it snapped back into the iron doorframe. He hadn't heard the metallic clinging of the big key as it slid in and out the lock. It was unlocked, he was sure.

This was the one chance he had been looking for and now it was exactly what he set all his hopes at.

He would manage to get free. He would manage to leave and he would manage to survive. He was sure of it. As sure as one can be on the edge of panic.

Many ideas of how to get loose of his bondages had crossed his mind in the past days but most of them were just too fantastic to work because of his lack of a wand. But there was some magic, that could be performed without a wand, wasn't there? Mighty wizards could cast spells just by some murmured words and even less skilled wizards were able to do wandless magic.

He had witnessed it more then once. He had done it before. But what kind of spell was he to perform to get free? Only a single one came to his mind and it was absolutely ridiculous to think about it. But if there is nothing to loose, there are no stupid ideas.

If it didn't work, he would be dead and it being a bad idea wouldn't matter anyway.

There were few Animagi in the world, but more then anyone knew. Most were born with this power, but some had learned. Some people close to him had learned and he had tried.

Yes, when he had first heard of it, he had tried. It hadn't worked though. But maybe he just weren't desperate enough back then. Maybe his intentions were just not good enough to set free enough power.

Now he was desperate. Now his intentions were more serious then ever before. He would try it. No. He would do it. He started murmuring some transfiguration charms he hoped would be helpful, combined them and concentrated on changing himself. He wanted to get smaller, small enough to get free of those chains. Small enough to slide out of them with his feet, paws, claws… whatever they might be then.

Time seemed to stretch into eternity and it didn't work. But it had to. He knew he could do it. Others had done it before. He started ripping at the chains and tossing around as far as his mobility allowed him to. His wrists hurt, as did his ankles. But he couldn't care less. It was not important if he was hurt when he died a cruel death or if he was as healthy as a baby.

After minutes or maybe hours his thoughts began to drift away. Fatigue wanted to take over but he couldn't let this happen. So he fought it with all the adrenaline he had left. Anger and frustration made him growl in the back of his throat and suddenly he was free.

At the first moment he thought his tired mind had played some sick trick on him. But when he hit the cold stone floor head first because he had simply slid out of the cold iron that had been holding him to the wall, he knew it was no dream.

His head hurt and he was kicking like mad as he fought of the chains that were still holding his legs. That was the moment when he realised, that this weren't the only legs he possessed. His arms had changed into legs, too. He was struck by lightning as he saw it.

He had fur. Dark grey fur to be exact. And he had paws with more fur but there it was white or light grey. Somehow he thought of himself as fluffy or cuddly, which seemed to be everything but fitting in his situation.

Some blood was sticking to the light hair on his wrist – or was it his ankle now? – and reminded him of the urgency of his situation. He must have ripped his wrist open, when struggling to get loose of the chains.

The chains… Finally he was free of them and it felt so good to be able to move like he wanted to. He struggled to stand up which was not that easy because he wasn't used to having four legs. But as soon as he realised the necessity of taking all of them in use for moving, it became as easy as if he had always had legs instead of arms.

He looked around his cell and felt the fur on his back stand on end as he felt the disgust that he had always felt for dungeons rush back into his body. It was an inhuman way of treating people, although there were some who he wouldn't be sorry for if they were down here and the number of those grew continually.

But normally he hated dungeons. It was always dark and mostly damp and cold down there. The climate and the depressing stone walls made people sick, not only physically but also sick at mind. He had seen it and therefore he disliked dungeons, mostly when he was at the wrong side of the bars. Which he was at the moment.

This thought made his eyes move to the iron door of his little cell and he remembered why he was so desperate to change his appearance right NOW!

It was unlocked. His heart leaped to new speed as his mind processed the fact of his now fast approaching freedom.

He sprinted towards the cell's door and… had a new problem: How to open it. Of course it was not locked, but it was still a door and he was no human anymore. If he was not mistaken, it would take another eternity to change back and he didn't have that

much time.

So he didn't take this time but tried it the animal way.

The door only had a handle on the outside which was no problem for a human for there was just enough space between the bars to stick a hand though. But it complicated the whole thing for an animal.

Thankfully he was at least large enough to reach it if he stood at his hind legs. So he tried. First he didn't manage to stand up quite well and started leaning against the bars to slide up and down at them while being two legged. It was more complicated then he thought and after some minutes as his shoulder started aching from the constant pressure against the bars he was near to giving up.

But he couldn't. He had gone so far. He had managed to become an Animagus, so why should he let a simple unlocked door stop him from escaping a promised death?

Well, it just wouldn't. That's what he decided and so he ignored the pain and prayed to every god - if he had ever believed it gods or not was not important then - and went on jumping up at the door and clapping his paw at the door handle while sliding down again.

It seemed to take forever and he refused to count the tries but suddenly, as he didn't even believe in it anymore. The handle gave way to the pressure he put on it and the bars slid away into the darkness of the corridor.

As he stepped over the threshold he felt live coming back to him and adrenaline shoot through his veins right into his muscles. He looked one last time back into his cell and growled deep in his throat at the sheer thought of his imprisonment.

Then he gave the door a shove with his shoulder and watched it fall shut. Now he was on the right side of the bars again and he loved the feeling of it.

Without thinking about it more then he could help it, he took of at high speed. He slid around the corners when he refused to lessen speed on the slippery floor and tried to avoid running into any walls or making more noise then needed.

He sprinted up a small winded staircase and stopped dead in his tracks as he heard something down the aisle next to his. It were voices, hushed by the much to small distance and the echo of steps on the stone floor.

But the shock did only last as long as his body needed to make his survival instinct take over. He almost flew up the flights on the other side with the only aim to bring as much space between him and the Death Eaters as even possible.

He knew it had to be Death Eaters. There were no other living people moving freely around this place and somehow he even doubted that those who didn't live could be free here.

He wasn't sure if it was only his wish or if he really felt the area grow warmer and the air getting less damp and heavy with every step that took him further away from the deep dungeons. He could only hope that he would soon come to the surface because it was unsure how long it would take the guards to notice his absence.

The flight of stairs brought him continually to higher ground and soon he saw a glint of daylight – or at least he hoped it was daylight – lightening the corridor in front of him.

Only minutes ago he had made a run for the source of light but the nearly meeting with those Death Eaters had made him more suspicious about his surroundings. He should have been suspicious from the very beginning, but hell, he had been so happy to be free. Well, he wasn't really free yet.

He was still in the fortress of his worst enemy – although he was quite sure that this very person had gone out for the day, at least he had heard something like that from a conversation of two guards earlier that day. He hoped that this particular dark wizard would not be back soon.

Hell, he hoped a lot that day.

Carefully he pressed himself into the shadows of the walls and moved slowly. He thought that his greyish dark fur should be a good camouflage.

He stuck his head around the next corner and saw that this aisle was only a short passageway toward a larger one. That one even possessed windows. He seemed to have left the centre of the castle or whatever it was and had reached the periphery which adjoined to the out doors.

With a little luck he had not only found the inner courtyard but the outer territory of the big old commodity. All he needed then was a door.

He sneaked through the pathway and took a glimpse at the bigger corridor. Thankfully it was as empty as the last one. Then he walked over to the next window and had to realise that he was to sort to reach it and take a good look outside but at least he only saw sky and no other walls as he took a step back and looked up.

Although he couldn't be sure of where the windows lead he decided to take the possibility of finding a way into freedom further down this corridor and started sneaking along the shadows under the windowsills.

The corridor went straight for several minutes with small aisles leading to it each now and then. Somehow this brought up an uneasy feeling in the back of his suspicious mind. He found himself being more paranoid with every step he took. The castle was too quiet for his taste.

Maybe most of the Death Eaters had gone along there master and the few left had not noticed him fleeing yet but maybe all of this was just a sick little game to torture him a little more before killing him this evening.

He stopped thinking about it as the corridor suddenly ended. There was a door in front of him and he tried to decide if he should risk trying to open it and call the attention of some Death Eater on the other side on his presence or if he should go back into the darkness of the centre of the manor.

Waiting for someone to open the door would be really stupid and he had no intention to go any closer toward the dungeons as he already was.

So he went to jumping up doors again.

This time he had the handle on his side of the door and the lot of practice he had collected before made it a quick business. The handle was pushed down and the door slid a little towards him. It was a hard thing to push his nose through the little slit that had opened to open the door but he finally did it.

He was so happy that the door hadn't been locked and his happiness even grew as he saw where he were.

Behind the door was the entrance hall or what he thought looked like one. Carefully he moved inside and the door slid closed behind him. He noticed, that it seemed to be some old hidden passageway because this side of the door was clad by a big painting.

The entrance hall was huge and a wide flight of stairs came down from the upper floor.

To his luck, most of the paintings in the hall were either empty or imposed by a heavy black cloth, so there was no one to see him there.

His only problem now were the huge gates that blocked the way outside. He was sure that he couldn't move them because they were too heavy and the handles were too high for him.

His hopes sank as he realised that he had went so far just to be stuck again.

It was unbearably frustrating. Now he had to wait and he would do it because there was no other option occurring to him. When he guessed right all the other entrances would be sealed or watched. This gates were probably locked. Maybe there were even guards outside. But who would think of trying to flee or to break in through the main entrance?

This was his joker. No one would because it was crazy. And it was even crazier to try it as an animal.

He started looking for a hiding place and found one at the corner next to the gates. There stood an antique couch with a lot of braids hanging down to the floor.

He silently slid under it and hid behind the braids in the dark.

It seemed to take hours and the high windows already showed the low reddish light of dusk as finally something happened.

He had already started to fall asleep from exhaustion as a loud thud was heard and the gate was opened with more energy then needed.

"Send him now!" The high-pitched voice was cold and somehow he was sure that the Dark Lord was not in the best of moods.

"Yes, my Lord." The other voice belonged to a woman with black hair and a cruel face. Bellatrix Lestrange lowered her head in a deep bow and apparated away.

"They will never answer anything else." The Dark Lord started to laugh with his freezing voice and moved towards the stairs.

"Leave the gate open for the rest of my Death Eaters. They will have a lot of fun tonight…" The laugh grew even more and the one producing it left for the upper floor.

The two hooded figures who had followed in now turned to each other and seemed to share a look. Then they went through the doors outside.

The gate was open and he had his chance right in front of him. He ignored the foul feeling that had taken settled in his stomach as he had listened to the short conversation and slid out of his hiding place. He silently sneaked towards the door and pressed himself to the ground as he looked out of it.

The two guards were standing about five feet in front of the gates at both sides and looked straight ahead down the street that went up to the manor.

He needed to leave as long as there were no other Death Eaters coming towards them.

He carefully moved through the doors and tiptoed towards the garden behind the back of one of the guards. The man didn't notice him and so he slid into the bushes that bordered the street.

He was keen on bringing as much distance between him and the fortress as possible but he moved slow and thoughtful so no one would notice him sneaking away from the fortress and the street.

He crept through the shadows of the undergoing sun and held his head low. He moved from tree to bush and from bush to stone so he wouldn't be without cover for more then a blink of the eye.

Finally he came to a forest and as he went deeper into it the fortress disappeared from view.

He took a deep breath and was glad to be free again. His life was save for now and he happily took of at high speed. He wanted to go home, wanted to see his friends again, wanted to sleep in a bed and feel warm for the first time since his capturing. And he needed to tell what he had seen and where he had been. No one knew where the dark fortress was yet. But he knew it now and when he was found, he could show the Aurors the way.

Sadly his enthusiasm lessened with every hour he spent walking without seeing a single house or street. He seemed to be somewhere in the nowhere and he hated it soon enough.

After what seemed like hours he had nearly given up hope to find any sign of civilisation. He stumbled over loose roots and low branches and cursed every plant that stood in his way. He was glad to have four legs or he would have fallen more then once since going into the woods.

He was tired and worn out from walking. He had been hungry, but somehow the hunger had gone with his fatigue and now he just ignored the feeling of emptiness in his stomach.

Suddenly he was awoken from his walking daze by a light that flickered through the trees and the sound of an engine.

A car. He had found a street, thank the gods. Adrenaline flooded his body and he ran as fast as he could. It were just a few meters to the street, less then he had thought, and so he was a little surprised to be on the asphalt of the traffic way within a few steps.

He looked up and saw a bold of light coming directly at him. The car. He was so surprised, that it took him a moment to realize his big mistake. He already turned to leave again but he was not fast enough.

He heard the engine roar and the breaks squeak as he was hit by something hard. He was flung through the air and hit the cold ground with a sickening crash.

There he laid still like a ruddy dog that had been hit by a car. He felt like he was going to die.

Harry Potter, everybody's hero, was dying as the ruddy dog he looked like somewhere in the nowhere…

A/N: Ouch! Ok, I said that I would torture them, didn't I? Yes, it is Harry, and he is a dog. One could guess that if one read the title, right?

Ok, this was the first chapter and I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing (yeah, I know I'm a sadist).

I'm not sure if there will be many reviews (though hope dies last, right?) but I know one thing for sure: There will be a next chapter and I will love it.