A/N: I realize that I have a few stories going at once, and I fully intend to finish both Welcome to the Family and Beckett the Babysitter, but this idea recently came to me, and I just HAD to start getting it down. Credit goes out to Blackwolf-20, who initially had this idea and was gracious enough to let me use it. The story, right now, should end up being only 4 or 5 chapters when all is said and done.

I hope those of you who read it end up enjoying it. :)

Chapter 1

"Again, Harry, I really appreciate yeh doin' this," Hagrid stated, beaming behind his bushy beard.

"It's no problem at all, Hagrid. Really," Harry assured the towering groundskeeper with a smile of his own. "It's the least I can do after all you've done for me over the years."

"Righ', well, I've left notes for yeh, explainin' everything yeh'll need ter know. Not that there's much to it, mind. It's just feedin' him, makin' sure he stays active an' maybe bathin' him if he starts ter work up a smell. Nothin' too complicated."

Fang, the mushy-faced Neopolitan Mastiff that Hagrid had owned for a good many years, was currently curled up in the large armchair situated against the left wall of Hagrid's hut, lazily observing the exchange taking place between his master and the sixth year Hogwarts student who had proven to be a usual presence inside this house. The two of them stood by the main door, a massive and bulging bag slung over Hagrid's right shoulder while a more regularly-sized bag lay on the floor beside Harry's feet.

"I hope I ain't puttin' you out," Hagrid continued. "It's just that Fang gets so worked up if nobody's here with him for a long time."

"How many times must I tell you it's all right, Hagrid? Besides, it's the weekend, and I have everything I'll need right here." Harry lightly nudged the bag with his leg.

"Good, good," said Hagrid. "Well, if all goes well, I should be back early Sunday evening with fresh Blast-Ended Skrewts. I still can't believe I have ter go all the way ter Scotland ter get 'em. These blokes are usually good abou' transportin' them here without all the fuss. But seein' as I need 'em fer class on Monday, can't exactly wait around, can I?"

Harry merely nodded sympathetically. The topic of class, in this case Care of Magical Creatures, proved possibly sensitive right now. He still wasn't sure just how much Hagrid had gotten over him, Ron and Hermione dropping the class this year, but Harry's lingering feelings of guilt had no doubt played a role in him agreeing to "dog-sit" Fang for the weekend while Hagrid was away. Harry figured the gesture would serve as an extra, unspoken apology. Plus, it wasn't as if Fang was an unruly dog. Harry figured this weekend would be a piece of cauldron cake.

"I'm just glad Dumbledore agreed, too," sighed Hagrid as he opened the large front door.

Fang perked his head up instantly, clearly under the impression he was tagging along, but Hagrid denied him his wish with a ruffle of his fur. "Sorry, Fang, but you have to stay here with Harry."

The dog immediately whimpered in protest, but Hagrid remained steadfast.

"I'll be back, don' worry. Just be good." He turned towards Harry. "Don' you worry, either. Yeh know by now Fang's a sweetheart."

Harry grinned. "Of course he is. And we'll have loads of fun. I'm positive."

Hagrid nodded appreciatively, patted Fang once more , said, "See yeh on Sunday," and exited the hut, pulling the door closed behind him. This left Harry and Fang alone together in a sudden and complete silence. After a few moments, Harry sighed, scooped up his bag and took a few steps over to set it on top of Hagrid's giant-size bed.

Despite the gargantuan nature of the piece of the furniture and the rest of the hut for that matter, especially in comparison to Harry, Harry still couldn't help but notice how cramped the quarters were. It was essentially a one-room house and completely devoid of a bathroom, which meant that Harry would have to venture back up to the school every time nature called or whenever he would need to shower. For meals, Dumbledore had arranged for the dining table to be enchanted for the weekend the same way the tables in the Great Hall were enchanted to have the food appear on top. Save for any time spent with Ron and Hermione, it was to be a very nomadic weekend for Harry, as he couldn't leave Fang alone and he wasn't sure how well the dog would assimilate into any of Harry's normal downtime activities.

But Harry wasn't terribly concerned about any changes to his schedule. Not that he'd even had much of a schedule for the weekend to begin with.

Once he'd finished putting away his clothes in Hagrid's enormous dresser, as well as any toiletries on a shelf over the sink, the silence was broken by a fresh sound; the sound of frantic paws against wood.

Harry turned around to see Fang in front of the door, furiously pawing the door. A few seconds later, whimpering joined in.

Not even ten minutes in, and already he's at it.

"Fang!" Harry said with affection in his voice. "It's alright, boy, it's alright. Come here! I'm still with you!"

At the sound of his voice, Fang abruptly turned around towards Harry with an expression on his baggy face that seemed to say, "Oh! Why, yes you are!" Fang just stared contemplatively at Harry for a few moments before finally letting out a gruff "Woof!" and charged.

In the span of the few seconds it took for Fang to close the distance between them, Harry quickly realized his simple mistake. "Slow down, Fang! Fang! Heel -"

Fang tackled Harry with enough force to knock the teenage wizard on his back. Not even waiting until Harry hit the floor, Fang began licking him unapologetically. An onslaught of thick drool was lathered all over Harry's face and upper chest, messing up both his glasses and the top of his school robe. Fang didn't stop until he was satisfied at his "sliming" of Harry, at which point the dog was content to use his temporary caregiver as a pillow and lie on top of him.

The weight slightly winded Harry. "Off, Fang!" he commanded in a strained voice. "Get off, please! OFF!"

Fang clearly was trained to recognize the word, because he instantly stood up and made his way back to the armchair he had been occupying earlier. This left Harry still sprawled on the floor of the hut, regaining his breath. Once he had, he removed his glasses momentarily and used his right sleeve to wipe away all the slobber now accumulated on his face.

"Eugh," Harry breathed.

He spent a bit of time wiping down his glasses before replacing them on his face and getting up to see Fang regarding him with a curious expression, as if he were confused about why Harry was wiping drool off of himself.

"Okay, that was my own fault," Harry admitted to the canine. He looked down at his outer robes' upper chest area, which was stained with saliva. Immediately, Harry undid the buttons on them and tossed them so that they lay across the large sink. Glancing at his watch, Harry noted that it was already dinnertime. As if on cue, Hagrid's table magically became loaded up with an assortment of delicious-looking food and the smells of each spread through the hut like wildfire.

"Read my mind," Harry remarked.

He started to make his way over to a chair when he was stopped in his tracks by knocking on the other side of the door. Fang jerked upright instantly, obviously thinking it was Hagrid, who'd had a change of heart. But he was to be disappointed as Harry opened the door, while gesturing for Fang to stay put, to reveal Ron and Hermione standing outside.

"Hey, mate," Ron greeted with a grin. "Fancy some company for dinner?"

Harry grinned in return and stepped aside invitingly. "Of course, come in!"

Ron and Hermione made their way inside and Harry shut the door behind them.

Most of the evening was spent with the trio seated around Hagrid's large table, eating and conversing with one another, while Fang remained sprawled on the armchair. Towards the end of the meal, he got up and sat beside Harry with the expectation that his temporary owner would feed him scraps. Fortunately for Fang, Harry was kind enough to oblige and even rub his head afterwards.

"Are you going to be alright here, by yourself tonight?" Ron asked in a teasing fashion once dinner was done, as if Harry were a small child afraid of the dark.

"I'll be fine," Harry retorted, his hand still on top of Fang's head. "Are you going to be alright, without me to keep you company?" he asked back in an equally joking fashion, to which Ron snorted.

"Well, if you find you need anything, Harry," Hermione spoke up seriously, "you know Ron and I will be happy to help."

Ron initially had an expression on his face which indicated that he would rather enjoy watching his best friend squirm if presented with trouble from Fang, but Hermione's pointed elbow jab made him adopt an agreeable look. "Sure, mate. Just say the word."

"Thanks," Harry said while glancing down at his watch. "You two might want to get going, before it's too late and Filch starts lurking about for stragglers. See you tomorrow?" he added as the three of them got up from their seats.

"You can count on it," Hermione confirmed with a smile.

Fang joined the trio as they made their way outside into the early night, the sky already darkened just a bit and lights shining through the windows of Hogwarts. While Harry, Ron and Hermione lingered at the foot of the hut's front steps, Fang peeled off into Hagrid's garden, sniffing the ground furiously.

"Have a good night, Harry," said Hermione, giving her best friend a tight hug. Ron merely clapped him on the shoulder before the two of them departed back to the castle.

Harry watched them until they became tiny dots on the horizon. Once they had, he glanced briefly up at the blackening sky before looking over to where Fang was in the garden. "Come on, Fang!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together to better get the dog's attention. "Let's get back inside!"

But Fang didn't move. He kept his head down towards the ground, his attention clearly focused on something other than Harry. Rather than calling Fang's name again, Harry sighed and approached the canine to get a better look at what he was doing.

As it turned out, Fang was busy sniffing and chewing what appeared to be a large, black sock. Harry curiously squatted down to get a proper look. From the size of the clothing article, it was a foregone conclusion that it belonged to Hagrid, explaining why Fang was so interested in it.

Must've fallen out of his sack, Harry thought to himself as he reached out to take it.

Fang, though, wasn't about to relinquish the sock.

While Harry tried to get it out of Fang's mouth, Fang either took it as a sign that Harry wished to play or refused to let his one remaining memento of his owner go. Harry couldn't be sure which it was, but nonetheless, it resulted in a game of tug of war between him and Fang.

"Fang, drop it!" Harry commanded while struggling with the dog. "I know it's Hagrid's, but you don't want any germs in your mouth!"

It eventually got to where Harry and Fang were no longer jerking about as a result of the struggle, but rather leaning away from one another, each with a firm grip on the sock in between them, which was starting to rip from the exertion.

"I ... said ... drop it!" Harry grunted out before giving one big tug.

However, at that precise moment, Fang suddenly seemed to become disinterested in the game, because he released the sock without further conflict. This meant, though, that Harry was propelled backwards as a result of his own momentum. If there had been empty, solid ground behind him at the time, then it wouldn't have been much of an issue. But, as it turned out, Harry had been standing in front of one of Hagrid's large pumpkins, and that was what broke his fall.

The giant pumpkin broke apart upon impact, leaving Harry to tumble right into a mass of pumpkin guts and seeds. There was a splatter effect, where most of the muck bathed Harry in a thick glob as he lay there stunned, messy and with Hagrid's sock still clutched in his hand, one of the few areas of his body not covered in pumpkin innards.

Harry was still laying there by the time Fang came over, his face hanging directly over Harry's, obviously nonplussed about putting Harry in the pumpkin in the first place.

"Brilliant," Harry dryly remarked.

But before Harry could move to get up, Fang inched his face closer so that he could bestow upon Harry a very slobbery lick. He panted happily once done.

"Thanks," Harry said, his face slightly scrunched up in disgust.

What a weekend this should be, he thought tiredly to himself.