Author's Note:
More information down at the bottom.
Prompt 1 of 2 from TheNorwegianAuthor: write about Harry meeting Sirius
The sun was setting over London, the sky burning orange, when Harry made her way back to the Leaky Cauldron. Rose Harriet "Harry" Potter was celebrating her thirteenth birthday – or had been celebrating it, since it was getting far too late on that July day.
It had started early hours of the morning when Harry had been working on her History of Magic assignment. Not realizing the date had transitioned from her friend Neville's birthday to her own, Harry was startled when her owl, Hedwig, and several other owls flew in through her window all with gifts attached to their legs.
Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Hagrid had all sent her gifts for her birthday, which had deeply touched Harry, who was still not used to receiving gifts from anyone – let alone her friends.
From Hagrid, Harry had received The Monster Book of Monsters which was a very appropriate name for a book that had tried to bite her hand off; she wasn't entirely sure why Hagrid had sent her the book, and all she could do with it was tie one of her belts around the green book to make sure it didn't go on a biting rampage.
From Ron, Harry had received a Pocket Sneakoscope – a magical item that detects when someone untrustworthy is around that looked suspiciously like a glass spinning top. It was a very practical gift considering how much trouble Harry and her friends got into.
Along with Ron's gift came his first review of his time in Egypt with the rest of his family. At the beginning of the summer, Harry had stayed with the Weasleys expecting to stay with them for the second summer in a row. When Mr. Weasley won the prize money from the Ministry, Harry couldn't have been happier for the Weasley family. But when their plans of traveling to Egypt to visit their oldest son, Bill, were going to be scrapped because they wouldn't have had enough money to bring Harry along with them, Harry quickly realized that she would have to convince the Weasleys that she would be fine being on her own for the rest of the summer.
It was a difficult task, and almost seemed impossible at first. When Harry had originally brought it up, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shot her idea down, not feeling comfortable leaving a twelve year old alone without adult supervision. But with Hermione and her parents vacationing in France for the summer, and Neville's grandmother refusing to take care of Harry (which Harry didn't mind – she and Neville's grandmother never got along anyway) it became apparent that there would be no one else willing to watch Harry.
Which is when Harry tried to tap into her 'Slytherin side' in order to persuade the Weasleys that she would be fine on her own, and that they really did deserve a family vacation without having to worry about her; a task she was only able to accomplish once she had Mr. Weasley on her side. Harry, Mr. Weasley, and his seven children were what it took to convince Mrs. Wealsey to let Harry stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the rest of the summer.
So the Weasleys dropped Harry off at the Cauldron before they left for Egypt, and Mrs. Weasley had a very stern conversation with the barkeeper, Tom, about how Harry was to behave while she stayed in one of the rooms at the inn. Harry didn't really listen to anything Mrs. Weasley said at that point because she knew that, as the person paying for her own room, Tom wouldn't mind what she did as long as she was able to pay.
Which she was able to – her father had left her enough money that she could stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the rest of her life if she wanted.
Staying at the Leaky Cauldron was amazing; Harry had the same freedom she had while living on the streets but also had the security of knowing she would have food and a place to sleep every night – it was great. The fact that the Weasleys sounded like they were having a blast in Egypt without her made her stay at the Cauldron all the better.
After all, the Weasleys really did deserve all the happiness in the world. Ron having fun with his family was a pretty nice gift in itself – though the Sneakoscope was also really nice.
From Hermione, Harry had received a Broomstick Servicing Kit, which for the young seeker was one of the greatest gifts she could have ever gotten. The kit was a major departure from Hermione's usual gifts of books of some sort, and Harry couldn't have been happier with the change. She would have spent more time with Hermione's gift had it not been for the fact that Neville's gift had taken up most of her attention.
From Neville, Harry had received photographs of her parents. There weren't that many photos Neville had sent, but the quantity wasn't what Harry cared about. Neville had gifted her two photos: one of her mother and Neville's mother, Alice, with their stomachs bulging from pregnancy; and the other was of her father, Neville's father, Frank, and three other men at what appeared to be a party. Harry had never seen either photo before, not even from the photo album Hagrid had given her at the end of her first year.
Neville's card had explained how he had found the pictures while he was looking through his parent's old things, and he had felt that Harry needed the pictures more than he did. Harry had been extremely touched by Neville's gesture, and she felt guilty for only sending him a Chia Pet and a muggle book about poisonous plants for his thirteenth birthday.
A potted plant and a book seemed so much less personal than two pictures of their dead parents.
Harry had spent most of the early morning hours studying the photos before placing them, gingerly, into her album with the rest of the pictures she had of her parents. She slept with the album in her arms, her parents on her mind.
When she woke up, Harry ate breakfast down in the pub, smiling brightly when Tom brought out a free chocolate chip muffin for her birthday. Once she was done with eating, she went to Gringotts and changed some of her galleons for pounds, feeling like it was time she gave back to the community that had helped raise her while she lived on the streets before going to Hogwarts.
So she spent her day walking around London, donating a healthy amount of pounds to all the places she had claimed as sanctuary for four years of her life. Libraries, a couple food markets, homeless shelters that she hadn't stayed in but needed the money anyway, all received a very small donation from Harry. She was hesitant to give money to the people who begged on the street, knowing that many of them would benefit more through food than money, though she did end up giving to a few of them if only because she remembered them from her childhood.
When evening rolled around, Harry began her walk back to the Leaky Cauldron after her stomach alerted her to the time when it growled loud enough to jolt her out of her thoughts. She walked at a fast pace, eager for food and to break in her broomstick kit, though she slowed when she heard shouts coming from an alley she was walking past.
Stalling, Harry turned into the alley to investigate the commotion. She stood at the entrance to the alley and watched as four teenage boys – probably just a year or two older than her – were harassing a stray dog.
The dog was gigantic, growling deeply, hackles raised, backed into a corner, and looked simultaneously threatening and pathetic. It was shaggy, with black fur and gleaming eyes, and Harry felt her blood boil at how the dog was being treated by the boys who were dressed in jeans, backwards hats, baggy jackets, and carried sticks, rocks, and knives.
"OI ARSEHOLES! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Harry yelled at them, storming over to the older boys as one of them pulled out a lighter.
"'Choo lookin' at you fuckin' cunt?" the one closest to Harry asked, a knife in his hand and a cigarette between his lips.
Harry wasted no time to answer his question; instead she pulled her right arm back and punched the boy right in his temple, causing him to collapse at her feet, his cigarette flying from his lips. Bending down, Harry yanked the knife from the boy's weak grasp, and held it in her left hand, the blade protruding from under her pinky instead of between her thumb and forefinger. She stood, fists raised and knife out, ready to punch the next idiotic boy in the face if she needed to.
"I'm lookin' at you lot, fuckers," she declared over the fallen boy, keeping her eye on his friends. The boy on the ground tried to get back up, and Harry gave him a swift kick to the groin in order to keep him down.
The grunt of pain from their fallen comrade spurred the other boys into action. The three started to approach Harry in flank formation, derogatory insults on their lips and a promise of retribution in their eyes. She could tell that they thought that they were intimidating, however Harry had faced a cerberus, a mountain troll, and had been petrified by a basilisk – Harry would be an idiot if she was intimidated by these pubescent arseholes.
Harry drew up her fists to cover her face as the three approached, and she was just about to throw the knife at the boy on her left when the dog decided to act.
Giving a low, feral growl, the dog launched itself from its position on the ground and wrapped its massive jaw around the middle boy's arm, dragging the boy down to the ground as if he was a rag doll. The two friends spun around to see their friend screaming and yelling in pain underneath the behemoth dog, giving Harry enough of a distraction that she was able to run up to the boy on her right and punch him right in neck.
The boy stumbled and turned to look at Harry, a hurt and confused look on his face. Harry followed up her hit with a punch right in his nose, causing the boy to grunt in pain. The boy the dog was assaulting was still hollering on the ground, unable to get the beast off of his arm, and his only uninjured friend went to the his rescue.
Harry, not wanting the rescuing boy to hurt the dog, threw the knife at the boy. Her aim wasn't good, nor did she throw it with much strength, however the knife flew right past the boy's face, causing him to spin to look at Harry. Harry, realizing she was in-between two very pissed off fifteen year olds – one of whom was suffering from a bloody nose she had given him – decided that it might be in her best interest to run away.
Sprinting towards the dog, she grabbed a handful of its fur and tugged.
"Come along dog," she told it, looking quickly behind her to see the now three boys – the nose-bleeder, the uninjured one, and the one who had just recovered from the kick to the groin – run after her.
The dog, hearing the command in Harry's voice, let go of its victim's arm, leaving behind a bloody, mangled arm for its victim.
Harry and the dog ran at full speed out the opposite end of the alleyway, breaking out into the rest of civilization. Knowing that she didn't exit on the same street she had entered, Harry quickly turned so that she was heading in the same direction she had been in before entering the alley. Harry and the dog continued to run as they dodged the people on the streets in order to get away from the psychotic teenage boys who were out for revenge.
Harry continued running, not feeling safe to stop until she was outside of the Leaky Cauldron. Sliding to a stop right outside the entrance to the inn, Harry turned around to watch the dog lumber up next to her, almost bear-like in its movements, before it stopped right next to her.
"Good job," she said as she ruffled the fur on top of the dog's head. She was out of breath and had a stitch in her side, but it wasn't anything she wasn't used to. The dog panted heavily, its tongue lolled out the side of its open mouth, its tail wagging happily at the praise.
Harry glanced up and down the street to make sure that they had finally lost the pack of boys – after a minute of silent streets, Harry let her shoulders relax.
"Did those fuckers hurt you?" she asked as she got down on her knees in order to inspect the dog. The dog sat down, still panting, its tail continuing its wagging on the ground.
Harry's hands roved over the dog's body, checking to see they hadn't broken any of its bones or caused it to start bleeding. A cursory glance between the dog's legs showed Harry that the dog was a boy, which was nice to know.
"I see they didn't get you too badly," Harry finally assessed, getting back up to her feet. "Actually, I think you ended up doing more damage to them than they did to you."
Harry pointed at the dog's teeth, which were still stained with the blood from his victim's arm. Harry gave an evil smirk.
"That was pretty awesome, by the way," she told him.
The dog barked in response, a deep booming bark that caught Harry by surprise. The dog continued to bark, and Harry realized quickly that they were happy barks, which only made the dog standing up on its hind-legs and placing its front paws on Harry's shoulders all the funnier.
Harry started to laugh as the dog continued his jubilant celebration – barking happily, tail wagging, feet trying to keep his body upright.
Harry's laugh was cut short, though, when the dog started to lick her face. A giant, blood stained tongue started to lick almost every inch of her face, and Harry clamped her mouth and eyes shut in order to avoid the dog's drool entering her body.
The last thing she needed was to contract some sort of muggle disease because of blood contamination from the dog.
"ACK, okay boy, not the face," Harry told him as she pried his paws off her shoulders.
The dog sat down once all his paws were back on the ground; his tail still wagged happily though he did look a bit embarrassed by his actions.
Harry scowled at him before wiping her face off on the inside of her shirt. Once that was done, she took off her drool-covered glasses and cleaned them off on her shirt as well. Finally, once her face was clear of the dog drool and blood, she spat on the ground a few times just to be sure she didn't ingest anything on accident.
She remembered the few times Fang, Hagrid's dog, had licked her face to the point where she got drool in her mouth – it was never a fun experience.
Harry bent down and checked the dog for a collar, frowning when she didn't feel one.
"Do you not have a home either?" she asked absentmindedly, stroking the dog's head as she continued trying to look for some form of identification on the dog's body.
At her question the dog began to whimper, causing Harry to look at him with raised eyebrows.
"Well, I guess you can stay with me tonight," Harry said, getting back up. She would need to make sure Tom was okay with it, but she highly doubted he would tell her no.
Tom allows banshees and vampires and all manner of beasts into his pub – Harry highly doubted he would say no to a dog.
"Wait here a second," Harry told the dog before walking into the Cauldron.
Tom was luckily at the bar when she entered, and Harry walked over to him, a semblance of a plan already forming in her mind.
"Hey Tom," she greeted as she approached him.
"'lo Harry," Tom greeted back, "have a good birthday?"
"It's been good so far," Harry confessed with a nod, "I've actually stumbled across a stray dog who was being harassed by a couple of muggle teens. Is it okay if the dog stays with me tonight? He doesn't have a collar and he's pretty banged up – I don't think he'll last the night if he stays on the streets."
Tom contemplated her request as he cleaned out a glass mug.
"What are you going to do with the dog after tonight? Are you planning on keeping it?" he asked in a wary voice.
"If they allowed students to have dogs at Hogwarts I might have considered keeping him," Harry confessed, "but they don't and I'm not entirely sure how well Hedwig will get along with a dog to be honest."
Hedwig was Harry's snowy owl – a wonderful companion and incredibly territorial when it came to Harry.
"Well, Hedwig is a smart owl – probably wouldn't get into too many fights with a dog," Tom said with a laugh.
"Merlin I'd hope not," Harry agreed.
Tom set the now clean glass down on the counter, still contemplating Harry's request.
"I'll pay extra for the dog to stay with me tonight," Harry finally declared, rolling her eyes that she would have to resort to that tactic.
"Alright," Tom finally allowed, "only for tonight, though. I'm also guessing you'll want something to give the dog to eat?"
"He's skinny enough that I'm sure he'll be happy to eat any scraps you have. But yeah, he'll be needing food," Harry answered, thinking about how easy it was to feel the dog's ribs and spine during her inspection.
"Okay then, the dog can stay," Tom said, getting back to work.
"Thank you so much," Harry told him, gratitude clear in her voice.
"Yeah, well, happy birthday kiddo," he responded with a sly smile.
Harry smiled back before heading outside to get the dog. It was waiting patiently for her, sitting down and staring up at the sign for the Leaky Cauldron. The dog looked scared, which would have been weird had she not seen Fang give the same look a dozen or more times.
"Come on boy, you can stay with me," Harry told the dog, holding out her hand as if it would calm down the dog.
The dog looked between her and the sign, whimpering pitifully as he did.
"No one is going to harm you," Harry said, rolling her eyes. If the dog kept acting like this she might just call it quits on the whole thing.
The dog must have sensed her sincerity because the next moment he was on all fours, wagging his tail and waiting for Harry to open the door for him.
"There we go," Harry whispered under her breath, opening the door for the dog to walk through first.
The two entered the bar, Harry walking confidently over towards the stairs leading up to the rooms with the dog striding next to her.
"Merlin, Potter!" Tom exclaimed at the sight of Harry and the dog, causing the entire pub to look in their direction. "Are you sure that thing is a dog?"
Harry stalled at Tom's question and she could see the dog was starting to go into a defensive stance – hackles raised, shoulders tense, tail still.
"Well, yeah, what else would he be? A bear?" Harry asked, looking at Tom like he was an idiot.
"Child, that thing looks like the grim!" Tom exclaimed once more, causing fearful whispers to break out from the other patrons.
Harry's face scrunched up in thought as she looked at the dog once more.
"What's the grim?" Harry asked, deeming the dog to be just a dog and looking back up at the barkeep.
"It's an omen of death!" Tom explained, walking out from behind the bar and over to Harry as if he was planning on shielding her from the dog.
Harry looked between Tom, who looked scared beyond belief, and the dog, who looked amused at the whole situation, his tail wagging happily once more.
"Right," Harry said, drawing out the word to show her disbelief. "Well then, I'll just take the omen of death and give him a bath."
And without waiting for a response, Harry walked right up the stairs, the dog following her quickly.
"Should I just start calling you Omen just for the hell of it?" Harry asked as she opened up the door for her room. The dog sneezed, which Harry took for a 'no. '
"Yeah, that's a terrible name," Harry agreed, letting the dog enter the room first.
Her room was small, a four-poster bed in the middle, a dresser next to the door, a small fireplace across from the bed, and a wall of widows opposite of the door. Next to the bed was a door leading to the bathroom, which is where Harry headed to once inside the room.
"Come on, boy, let's clean you up," Harry said as she filled the yellow bathtub. The dog hopped right into the bath without any prodding from Harry and he wasted no time in getting himself completely wet.
Harry watched his interaction with the water and decided that either the dog just really loved water or he was extremely well trained. And if his case was the latter, then he must have an owner.
So where were they?
After ten minutes of messing around in the tub, the dog hopped out of the now dark, murky water and into the towel Harry held up for him. Harry was about to start patting him dry when the dog decided it would be a good idea to shake all the water off of his body while he was standing right next to Harry.
Water flew off the dog and onto the surrounding area – which mainly consisted of Harry, who held her hands up to shield her face from the dog-water. Harry stood still, drenched in water, and tried not to get too annoyed at the now happily smiling dog.
A knock on the door interrupted her silent fuming. Harry, with a growing smirk on her face, tossed the now damp towel onto the dog's head before leaving the bathroom.
"Bloody prick," Harry said under her breath.
She opened the door to see Tom with a tray of food; one plate had a nice meal of mashed potatoes and chicken on it, the other plate had a pile of bones and left over bits of chicken that no one would eat.
Harry really hoped her food was the former plate.
"Still thinking about owning a dog?" Tom asked one he saw Harry drenched in bath water.
Harry stared at Tom, unamused.
"Thanks for the food," Harry responded, grabbing hold of the tray. She heard the dog's paws clack against the wooden floor as he came back into the room, making a bee-line towards Harry and the food.
Harry held a leg out in order to stop the wet dog from coming closer to the food, while Tom gave a tight smile.
"I guess it isn't the grim, then," he said. The dog looked up at Tom, his eyes covered by his wet fur, his tongue out as he panted happily.
"What he is, is an arsehole," Harry replied, still annoyed over her state of dampness thanks to the dog.
Tom gave her a stern look, no doubt in reprimand for her language. Harry rolled her eyes as she placed the tray down on her dresser and out of the dog's reach.
"Well, have a good rest of your birthday," Tom said in way of goodbye.
"Thanks," Harry replied as he departed.
She closed the door once he was walking down the stairs and turned around to see the still wet dog rolling around on her bed.
"You son of a bitch," she said, giving a heavy sigh as she turned to the food. The dog continued to roll around on the bed and it gave a happy bark in response.
"I probably shouldn't give you anything to eat," Harry said as she placed his plate of bones and meat on the ground.
The dog wasted no time in launching itself off the bed and over towards his plate of food. Harry, with her plate in hand, walked over to her bed and stripped it of the now wet comforter. She sat in the middle of the bed, the wet blankets on the floor, and she ate her dinner.
She didn't know what she was going to do with the dog. He would obviously stay with her through the night and then Harry would have to take it to an animal shelter of some sort. She already had a couple in mind and as she ate she narrowed down the list of good shelters that she would feel comfortable leaving the dog in. She finally decided upon a shelter in the West End, which she had remembered hearing was a good shelter that treated all its strays with love and attention.
Once finished with her food, Harry put her plate in front of the dog so he could lick the plate clean for her. Patting the dog on the head as he finished licking her plate, Harry decided that it would be a good idea to spend the rest of the night breaking in her new Broomstick Servicing Kit.
Grabbing the Kit and her prized Nimbus 2000, Harry plopped herself on the bed and delved right into the world of broomstick maintenance and the smell of broom polish. She was so enraptured by the book that came with the Kit that Harry almost didn't notice the dog getting back up on the bed with her so he could lay down right next to her, his face watching Harry as his tail wagged contently.
Harry eyed the dog for a brief second before going back to her book, her left hand reaching out to scratch the dog behind his ears.
By three in the morning, the dog was fully asleep, Harry had polished her broomstick to the point that it was shining with excess polish, and Hedwig was still not back from her hunt. Suppressing a yawn, Harry put away all the items of her Kit back into their proper places before placing the Kit and her broom down on the ground, right next to the still wet comforter.
Harry turned off the lights and made her way back to the bed. She lay down with her head on the pillow and her left hand on top of the dog's head. As soon as Harry closed her eyes, she was asleep.
When Harry woke up she immediately knew something was different.
For one thing, she was sleeping under a very dry comforter. Harry's eyes snapped open at the realization, and as she pushed herself up into sitting position her green eyes darted around the room to check for signs of intrusion.
She noticed that the door was closed, but not locked like it had been when she went to sleep. Harry's heartbeat quickened and she mentally checked to make sure she hadn't been assaulted during the night. Coming back with no lingering pain, and realizing that her magic hadn't detected a threat to her person while she had slept like it normally did, Harry started to take deep breaths to calm herself down.
Harry threw the covers off of her as she got out of bed, looking over at her dresser to find the Broomstick Kit was placed on top, with her broom leaning against the dresser. She ran a hand through her hair, not understanding what had happened while she had slept.
It took her a while to realize what the biggest difference was: the dog was no longer in the room with her.
Harry checked under the bed and the bathroom for the dog, but he wasn't in either place. Confused and anxious, Harry left her room and went to see Tom at the bar.
"Mornin' Harry," Tom greeted her with a cheery smile that fell once he saw Harry's face.
"What's the matter?" he asked concerned.
"Have you seen the dog anywhere?" Harry asked, once more running her hand through her hair.
Tom's eyes narrowed in thought before he shook his head.
"No. Why? What's happened?" he asked looking intently at Harry.
"Uh," Harry began, embarrassed, "he's disappeared."
Tom stared silently at Harry after her confession. Finally, after what had seemed like minutes, Tom gave a deep sigh before picking up a glass and filling it was cider.
"I told you that thing was a grim," he told her before taking a sip of his drink. "What do you want for your last breakfast? Because you're gonna be dead come tomorrow."
Harry rolled her eyes at Tom's dramatics but she couldn't help the wave of fear that crashed over her.
And months later – after surviving the day at the Cauldron and going off to Hogwarts with her friends, after facing dementors and successfully making a patronus, after the Nimbus and the Firebolt and the quidditch wins, after learning about how Sirius Black, the mass murderer, was her godfather, after all her anger at him over him betraying her father and Neville's parents, after the realization that he was innocent when Professor Lupin and Sirius explained that the real traitor had been Pettigrew, Ron's rat, after the time travel with Hermione and saving Sirius from a fate worse than death – Harry laid in bed, awake, and remembered the dog she took care of.
The dog who just so happened to have been her godfather.
It had been for the best that Sirius hadn't introduced himself to Harry at the time – after all, Harry knew she would have reacted badly to a dog suddenly turning into a strange man, no matter who the man happened to be. She still smiled, though, at the thought that Sirius had taken the time to tuck her into bed before he left.
It was nice to know that she now had a guardian who loved her and actually wanted to take care of her.
The Weasleys were great, but Sirius was better.
Author's Note:
This is the first of many one-shots that tie-in with my story "Red Like Roses." All one-shots will cover events that are glazed over in the other story - so they can be about Harry's life at Hogwarts, or her watching movies with Steve, or Steve and Tony playing Scrabble, basically anything that isn't important to the overall narrative of "Red Like Roses" can be written as a one-shot here.
I will be taking suggestion of prompts from readers who want to know more about past events or from people who just want to see events that I haven't even thought of yet. The prompts can involve anyone from "Red Like Roses" and can be about anything within reason.
The title "I May Fall" is from the song by Jeff Williams of the same name; like with the song "Red Like Roses Part 2," I highly suggests you give "I May Fall" a listen because it's amazing. I do not own the song or the characters in this story.
Also, are Chia Pets a thing in the UK? I just thought it would be funny for Neville to get a Chia Pet for his birthday.
Hope TheNorwegianAuthor is happy with the outcome of her first prompt suggestion, and I hope everyone has a great Friday.