A/N: I do not own Harry Potter, never will.
The puppies barked loudly, piling on top of one another trying to see over the edge of the box.
There were five little hounds, each with dark fur and a little black nose.
One's ears flopped over his eyes and he fell back into the box. The other puppies clamored on top of him. The five puppies heard footsteps.
They remembered being carried in this box out of their warm home. Their mother had been left behind, but it was okay, she no longer fed them. Instead they ate from bowls on the floor.
The man who had brought them to this busy place was talking with another man, this one looking at the puppies and studying them closely. The smallest one tried to push his way out from under his siblings.
He wanted to see what was going on too.
"I'll take those four. No one's going to want that runt," the man said pointing to the small puppy. He didn't understand the words but the meaning became clear as the other four puppies were taken from the box.
The man who had put the puppies in the box carried the now almost empty box from the shop. He looked down at the remaining puppy.
"Guess I'll have to find you a home myself, huh?" The puppy barked loudly. He was happy to be able to see what was going on.
"Now, there must be somebody here in Diagon Alley that needs a puppy." He set the box down and pulled his wand from his pocket.
FREE TO GOOD HOME he wrote on the box.
"I'll stay here until we find someone," the man promised pulling a chair from the air. He sat down and waited.
The puppy poked his head over the edge of the box. There were people and smells everywhere. He could smell food coming from down the street. There was a faint scent of cat coming from the right.
He had never met a cat, but he'd heard of them.
"Isn't he adorable!" A high pitched voice screamed. The puppy curled back in the box. It hurt his ears.
"Why's he free?" The voice asked the man.
"He's the runt."
"No thank you, runts never thrive." The voice walked past the box, the puppy could hear the footsteps retreating. He was glad he didn't have to go live with the voice.
Next a group of children ran up to the box. They petted him, scratched his head, called him 'cute'. But their mother said 'no' and they all left.
"Don't worry, pup, we'll find someone," the man promised handing the puppy some sausage from his sandwich.
It was starting to get dark. The man kept looking down the street. There were fewer people here now. The puppy was sure he'd never find a home now. Suddenly loud footsteps echoed through the street.
The puppy climbed back up sticking his head out of the box.
"Whatcha got there?" a voice boomed. The puppy looked up to see the largest man he'd ever seen.
"Hound pup, runt of the litter. We've been out here all day," the man answered. The large man leaned over and picked the puppy up with two fingers.
"He's gonna be big, look at 'em paws. Free ya say?" The man nodded.
"I've been lookin for a watch dog meself. He'll do nicely."
"He's the runt, though."
"Ahh, e'en runts can grow up to be somet'ing," the large man laughed handing the puppy a piece of meat from his cloak.
"He's all yours if you want him."
"I do, c'mon pup, hmm, ya need a name. How 'bout Fang?" The puppy barked happily as the large man petted him . "Fang it is, c'mon Fang, let's go 'ome."