Crufts!

by Maenad

Rating: PG-13 for a little bit of coarse language.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I don't own Crufts, either. I just make them jump through hoops.

"Surely you see the severity of the situation, Sirius?" The Headmaster of Hogwarts was still smiling, but the hardness of his blue eyes showed that he had no intention of giving in.

"Yes, but so what? We've all been in danger for the past three years, so why should one more threat make all the difference?"

"Don't be such a fool, Black," came Snape's sneering voice from the corner of the room. "You know as well as I what the Dark Mark means. It was over your house, Black, coming right out of your bedroom window. Voldemort rarely gives such direct warning to his victims, and only when he is so certain of success that he believes he cannot fail."

"Alright, alright, but do I really have to emulate a Muggle pet?" Black's voice was panicked, but it was obvious that being targeted by Voldemort was the least of his concerns.

"It's the only way," came a fourth voice, and all three men turned to look at Harry, who hadn't said a word since he had entered the Headmaster's Office half-an-hour previously.

Sirius sighed. "Et tu, Brute? Well, I suppose it can't be half as bad as Azkaban. But Harry, I swear that if you feed me that disgusting Pedigree Chum stuff I'll turn human and use Petrificus on you before you can say 'Top breeders recommend it'."

It wasn't easy being a dog, mused Sirius, as he lay with his head on his paws looking dolefully at the television in Harry's apartment. Harry had, at sixteen, showed a streak of rebelliousness that even surprised Ron when he had walked up to Gringotts, pulled a huge amount of money out of his account, had it changed into pounds stirling and proceeded to lay down a deposit on a flat near Paddington, leaving the Dursleys for good. Not the nicest part of London, but the mortgage was relatively cheap. Even though his parents hadn't left Harry destitute, he still had nowhere near the resources of, say, the Malfoys. But the flat was small and on the seventeenth floor of a high-rise building - not the most suitable place for a dog of Sirius'size, especially after a month of living there. Going out for walks was iregular at best. It had been two days since he had last stepped out of the front door. If he didn't get a proper run soon, he thought, he would go mad.

Harry meandered into the sitting room, scratching his belly and yawning loudly. Sirius looked away in disgust, and pawed the remote control so that it showed pictures of Muggles in bright-coloured shirts running up and down a field kicking a ball. He whimpered mournfully.

Harry groaned. "Okay, Sirius you win. Time for walkies. Just let me get dressed first, alright?"

Rather irritated at the demeaning term of "walkies", Sirius settled down in a huff. As soon as he got out of the house, he thought, he would lead Harry on such a merry chase that he would soon be exhausted and begging his forgiveness.

"So we are prepared," came the thin, high voice from the depths of the cowled hood.

"Yes, Master," replied Lucius Malfoy. "It took a month, but patience won out in the end. He turned one paw into a hand in order to open a can of beer, and that was enough for us to track him down. We have charmed the doors to let us know when they go out of the building, so that we can catch them away from their neighbours. There are too many Muggles in that building for us to tip our hand just yet."

"Very good, Malfoy. I expect you to carry out your mission with all success. As you know, if you fail to destroy Sirius Black within the week it will result in your own death."

"Yes, My Lord."

He caught sight of them five minutes after leaving the building. MacNair had never been any good at staying undercover, but even one glimpse of him was enough for Sirius to realise the mortal peril he and Harry were in. He jumped into the air and tried to drag Harry back to the apartment, but he noticed MacNair move to cut off his escape route. Twisting round again, he leapt forward and charged off in the opposite direction, dragging Harry, who was swearing and digging in his heels, behind him.

Stupid boy, he thought, but changed his opinion after a bolt of green lightning landed next to Harry's left foot and the boy ran ahead so fast he nearly left Sirius behind.

They ran through the back streets, which twisted and turned in unpredictable directions. There were few Muggles about on the streets, as it was past the time for them to be getting to school or work, and were now nearly all inside, paying no attention to what was going on under their noses. Harry, being a Seeker, was physically fit, and so managed to keep going at near full speed for the first two miles, but eventually he had to slow down and stop, panting hard, and holding one hand to his side. Sirius ran on for a few more blocks, but eventually noticed that Harry was not with him, and turned back to check.

It was obvious that the Death Eaters had been left behind, but Sirius knew that they wouldn't be out off for ever. Looking into Harry's eyes, he saw that the boy was as frightened as he. He turned his head to make sure that no-one was about, and shifted back into his human form.

"Shit," was the first word he had spoken in a month.

"You can say that again," replied Harry, still panting hard.

"Isn't once enough?" he retorted.

"So what now?" said Harry.

"Not a clue," said Sirius. "We're miles away from Kings Cross, we've no money, no wands, I'm a wanted criminal in this form and with my size I stick out a mile as a dog. The Death Eaters didn't know what sort of dog I was before, but obviously that's changed now. I haven't a clue where we are, or how we can get to safety, and we've got a band of Death-Eaters out for our blood. Harry my boy, I think we're screwed."

"Yeah..." said Harry. While he had been listening to Sirius' rant, his attention had been caught by a poster on the wall of the building opposite. "Listen, Sirius, what breed of dog are you when you transform? I mean, are you a particular type, or are you just a mongrel?"

"Just a mongrel?! Harry, I'm purebred Irish Wolfhound, through and through. But why on earth do you need to know that now?"

"I think I've just found our solution," he replied, and pointed.

Sirius turned, and blanched. "No, Harry. Absolutely not. There is no way that you will ever get me to sacrifice my dignity like that."

"Do you have any other ideas at this point in time?"said Harry.

Earl's Court was, fortunately, only five minutes' walk away from where thay had ended up. Walking round the arena, they saw thousands of dogs, in all shapes, sizes and colours. Tiny little chihuahuas, monster St Bernards, spotty dogs, fat dogs, thin dogs, fluffy dogs, wrinkly dogs - every kind of dog in the world was here. Eventually Sirius, back in dog form, nudged Harry in the direction of a dog very similar to himself in shape, size and colour. They walked over and heard the owner, a pompous, middle-aged man with a very red face, talking to the lady owner of an extremely delicate little white toy poodle.

"Of course, you get them every year," his voice boomed towards them. "Amateurs who think that they can just waltz up and enter their dogs without any proof of their breeding. They turn up without any certification and then get offended when they get turned away. I've heard it from my cousin. Fortunately, even though it's the first time I've come to Crufts, I'm no such innocent. My Blackie's properly certified. I've got the papers right here." He patted the briefcase next to him.

Sirius turned towards Harry with a quizzical expression on his face and his tongue lolling out. it was obvious he was looking to Harry to provide the solution. It's your idea, you deal with the problems his eyes seemed to be saying. Harry's forehead was wrinkled with the effort of thought. Finally he spoke very quietly.

"Can you talk to that other wolfhound for me and try to get him to knock over the briefcase?" he said. "The wind's blowing towards us from him, so I may be able to get at that certificate if we time it right."

Sirius sighed. Perhaps he would have to deal with the problems after all. Using the silent language that all dogs have, the language of eyes and posture, he pricked forward his ears and lay down on his stomach.

Greetings, cousin, he said.

Greetings, came the reply.

It is a fine day, is it not?

A little damp, perhaps. May I ask your family?

There was something odd about this last sentence. It seemed to imply descent, and, as Sirius had no idea how to reply, he was a little stuck.

I...have none, he replied at last.

How odd, responded the other dog. For you are definitely as purebred as I. Are you here for the competition?

Not through choice, he answered. My human is a wizard. He needs to hide from bad wizards that have been trying to kill us. I stand out everywhere except here, so here we must be.

Dogs were, unlike Muggle Humans, well aware that there were such creatures as wizards in the world. Wizards had to hide from humans to protect both themselves and Muggles alike, but there was no need to hide themselves from their pets.

I see, but how do you propose to enter without family?

Sirius supposed that this was the purpose of the certificate.

Your master carries proof of your family with him in his bag, does he not? replied Sirius. If you can knock over the bag so that my Master may get the piece of paper, we would be able to enter. I do not ask to join your family, merely to be protected by its name.

That is a large favour to ask, replied the other dog, Stand up that I may see you.

Sirius rose.

Turn to one side, and stand with your head erect and your tail curved between your legs.

Gritting his teeth he did so, then turned back.

You definitely have the potential to do well here. Hmm. Very well then. I will do as you ask, on the condition that you try as hard as you can here. Remember that you are representing a family that protects you, so I will have your word that you will do us no dishonour.

You have my word that I will.

The other dog started to tug and strain a little at the leash. When his owner started to rein him in a little, he kicked back against the briefcase and sent its contents flying. At that point, a gust of wind blew up and scattered the papers in a wide area.

A few papers landed near Harry, who started picking them up in the manner of a kindly stranger who observes someone in sudden trouble. However, he was looking quickly at each sheet that passed through his hands. He gathered them up in a sheaf and handed them to their owner, who checked that everything was there and thanked Harry gratefully. But before he could put them back in the briefcase, Harry whispered "Accio!" and the certificate fell unnoticed to the floor. The man walked off, and the piece of paper came towards Harry as if it was being blown along by the wind.

Hary picked it up.

"Got it!"

With the certificate, Harry had entered into the competition with ease. He had made sure he was out of the way when the other man and his dog arrived, and he was glad that he had when a loud voice and a lot of barking told him that the man was not taking too kindly to losing his certificate.

He had been given a number and told to lead Sirius into a corner of the Irish Wolfhound section. When he noticed the other owners brushing, dusting, and generally making their pets look pretty, he set about trying to do the same. But obviously he wasn't experienced at dog shows, and it showed.

"First time at Crufts, dear?" came a voice from his right.

It was a sixty-something lady in a nasty fuschia suit and tangerine lipstick. Harry flinched at the colour, but she was being so friendly that he couldn't ignore her.

"Er, yes", he replied tentatively.

"Well of course you are, dear, you haven't even got a brush!" She clucked her tongue at him and, moving away from her own dog, proceeded to attack Sirius with the brush in her hand. Sirius closed his eyes in disgust, but managed to endure her attentions. She smelled of dog shampoo and cigarettes.

Harry hated to admit it, but Sirius did actually look positively handsome when she finally stepped back, clicked her tongue again critically and said "That'll do."

"Thank you so much Mrs..err"

"Thompson-Burnett, dear. And it's a pleasure to see such a fine example of the breed as your dog here. And black, too! Of course, grey is a more typical colour, but I personally think that black is far more stylish. And quite within the acceptable range, so you don't have to worry about that. There! I think you'll do very well today, if you don't mind me saying so. Just watch what everyone else is doing and copy what they do. Now, I really must get back to Dandie here."

And she turned away, once more absorbed in her own animal.

Harry looked at Sirius, who looked back menacingly from underneath his eyebrows.

"Sorry," he said.

Sirius looked away.

It was time to begin.

The owners led their animals out into the ring in a line, walking proudly and briskly in a circle in front of the judges and the audience. Then they lined up in a row, and the owners once again started fussing with their animals, making sure that their feet were placed just so, and their backs were perfectly arched, and their tails were perfectly positioned.

The judge inspected each animal one by one, checking their bone-structure, musculature and the quality of their teeth.

As the judge approached Sirius, he felt himself getting nervous. Not about the competition, of course, but that this odious little pipsqueak of a man was going to run his hands over Sirius' body in a very intimate way indeed. His hackles started to rise and his lips began to curl but Harry noticed immediately and whispered "shutup!" in a very quiet voice. The man put his sweaty hands on is head first, pressing the skull to judge its dimensions, then tugging at his ears. The disgusting, smelly fingers pulled back his lips to check his teeth, and he was forced to taste the man's own nasty taste along with traces of the taste of the six previous dogs. He then felt the hands move down his back to his hips, at which point he was pulled up slightly, and then set back on the floor. Finally, the judge ran his hand down the inside of his leg, with his fingers coming perilously close to a place where they had no right to be.

When he finally stepped away, Sirius took a deep breath and let it out slowly in sincere relief that it was over. He swore to himself that he would never get irritated at Madame Pomfrey again. He'd take ten medical check-ups by the friendly, efficient medi-witch over another "judging" session like that.

But it wasn't quite over yet. First he had to lope around the ring, displaying how he moved to the judge. Then he had to wait around, still posing, while the judge made up his mind. He was bored out of his mind, disgusted with the entire day and especially that skunk of a judge, scared lest the Death Eaters somehow discover them and worried about how the hell they were going to get out of this one.

So it was with utter amazement and horror that he saw the judge walking towards them again and holding his hand out to Harry. They couldn't have won, surely?

Surely?

Oh no.

Harry shook the judge's hand with all the appearance of enthusiasm, but with thoughts of bewilderment and panic whirling through his head. Best of Breed at Crufts - the Greatest Dog Show in the World? How were they ever going to live this down?

More importantly, how were they going to keep a low profile after this?

There was no way they could hang around for the later rounds as he had planned to do - to keep out of the way as just one boy and his dog. They were in full public attention now and there was no getting round it.

They had to leave, now.

When they left the arena after Sirius had had his picture taken numerous times, Harry snuck out through a fire escape that someone had left open. The sky was darker now as the sun had set two hours ago, and Harry needed to get out of all the hubbub to think. The amount of noise that two-thousand dogs in one building could make was unbelievable!

Suddenly, he heard a hooting noise next to his ear, and looked up. It was Hedwig! Harry had had to leave her back at Hogwarts when he and Sirius had gone into hiding, and to have her around nibbling his ear as she had always done brought tears to his eyes. He held her close to his body and stroked her downy head for a few minutes. Then he noticed that she had a message for him. He unwrapped it eagerly. It contained a note and a length of shoelace.

"Dear Harry," the note ran.

"Word has reached me about the attack on you and Sirius that happened earlier today. It grieves me that we were unable to prevent it, and I hope with all my heart that neither you nor Sirius were injured as a result. As you may have guessed, as soon as the first spell was set loose, we sent some Aurors along to give assistance to you, but you had already done what was probably the most sensible thing you could have done, and run away. As you were gone, the Aurors instead covered your retreat, and managed to capture to of the Death Eaters: Malfoy and McNair. Naturally this is a great victory for us, as those two were certainly two of Voldemort's most trusted lieutenants.

So for now, you are safe, and more than welcome to return to Hogwarts as soon as you can. In order to get you here as quickly as possible, I have sent you this Portkey, which will activate at 10 o'clock tonight.

Come home, Harry, and bring Sirius with you.

Albus Dumbledore."

Harry looked up to the stars and laughed.

Getting away from all the interested people was not as easy as Harry had hoped. The competition for Best in Group was the very next day, and everyone was extremely excited and kept asking Harry how he thought he would do. Harry was, by now, accustomed somewhat to being well-known, but the poeple at Crufts were completely different to any other type of people he had ever met. The lady who had helped him earlier, Mrs Thompson-Burnett, had come second, and, while she could very easily have been resentful, instead she took Harry under her wing as her protege, and would not let him out of her sight. It was only when Sirius started to lose his temper and began to growl at everyone that she finally had to let them go.

They finally got out of Earl's Court at five to ten, and raced away towards a darkened alleyway so that no Muggles would see them disappear. Sirius finally changed back to a man again, and read the letter while hanging on to one end of the bootlace. Harry, exhausted, leaned up against him with the other end of the shoelace in his left hand. Eventually they both felt the jerking, stomach-twisting pull, and were back in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

Everyone was there to meet them, and soon an ad-hoc party had started, with butterbeer flowing freely and house-elves getting under everyone's feet while bringing up platefuls of sandwiches. Harry had to tell the story of their last day in London at least five times. Hermione, when she heard about Sirius winning Best of Breed at Crufts doubled over in fits of laughter, and Snape made more than one sneering comment; but even this humiliation couldn't puncture Sirius' joy of being human and at home again.

It was good to be back.