When the noise came again, Harry slipped off the low wall and turned very slowly towards the alleyway behind him. Harry Potter had in one evening blown up his aunt, broken every Ministry rule against underage magic, and run away from the Muggle house he had stopped calling home. He was in no mood to be watched from shadows.
But his eyes wouldn't adjust to the darkness of the alleyway, and whatever was standing there there didn't move even a little. "Come out," he ordered finally, "or I'll make you wish you had." He raised his wand to hex on the count of three - to be perfectly accurate, two and a half.
Before he could, a great black dog slunk out of the shadows - so large that Harry's first thought was magic, before he saw how thin the creature was, its matted and tangled fur. Just a stray, even if it did look as though it had come down from the hills to hunt small children. "Don't we feel silly now," he muttered, half relieved...half wishing he did have something to blast away at.
"I won't hurt you," he said, lowering his wand. He had never had much to do with dogs, apart from Hagrid's pets. This one was wary. "But I haven't got anything for you either. I ran away, didn't have time to get food." He kicked his trunk lightly. "Unless you can eat Potions textbooks." The dog padded over, and sniffed at the empty cage.
"That would solve a lot of problems, wouldn't it?" Harry said quietly. "If I knew who could fix things." Dumbledore might - or he might not. After last spring - after the Chamber of Secrets - Harry wasn't at all certain of help from that quarter. And he wasn't quite desperate enough to want to ask Lucius Malfoy for anything. The dog circled a few times, settled back on its haunches next to the trunk, standing guard and looking for all the world as though it had always belonged to Harry Potter. He smiled a little, ignoring the stray's fragrant odor.
"I wasn't sure I wanted to go back, you know. After what happened. But Aunt Marge... I didn't do that on purpose at all, and I didn't even have a wand. They'd have to send me to Azkaban to really stop me." There was a silence there, a pause for consideration. "And I wouldn't let them," Harry said simply.
The dog kept its opinion to itself, and Harry kept his silence for a good hour. It was broken not by him, but by a voice from the next block over calling his name. Though carrying, it did not seem to be his uncle's characteristic bellow. "Ministry," he hissed, diving for his trunk. In two years' acquaintance with Draco Malfoy, he had picked up a spectacular array of curses - effectual and otherwise - and started listing them under his breath as he snatched out his invisibility cloak and grabbed for his broom. No time to lighten anything, he'd have to leave it all.
"Come -" The dog was nowhere to be seen. "Well, there's loyalty for you," he muttered, and took to the sky.