Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I take no credit for her work. Excerpts from her books are included periodically to keep this fanfic somewhat close to canon. I own nothing.
The next few days of Hermione's summer were the best of her life. She couldn't even remember what she did before she had a dog. He was perfect. He was house trained, didn't make any messes or tear up the house, and was ridiculously obedient. She could not believe how smart he was. It was a little eerie just how well he seemed to understand her. It was nice to have someone to talk to, but his reactions were almost human.
"Red or green?" She asked and held a colored pen in each hand.
Obviously red. Padfoot huffed.
"Red?"
The dog gave out a short bark.
Hermione smiled and pet his head. "That's what I was going to choose!"
"Harry's birthday is tomorrow. I'm going to send him a birthday card tonight though. I don't want his relatives to see the card or gift."
Padfoot sighed softly. He was laying on top of the girl's bed with his head rested on his crossed paws. He watched her fret about her room. She was a funny girl. Despite his first impression of her, he thought that she was probably considered a quiet person. While she was constantly going on tangents to him, she would spend hours reading silently in the living room with her parents. However, the second her parents said something that sparked her interest, her eyes would light up and she would spend a solid ten minutes rambling or debating with them. Then she went back to silence once more. Hermione always seemed deep in thought during these silences. If she were a witch, Padfoot would have pegged her as a Ravenclaw.
"Happy birthday, Harry!" she began aloud. "Turning 13 is exciting! I know that when you see my gift that you'll roll your eyes. It's a notebook. As much as I love seeing you and Ron leave food stains on my notes, I think that this year we should mix it up and you two ruin your own notes instead!"
Padfoot held in a laugh. Ravenclaw!
"On an unrelated note: I'm really worried about you. If things get bad Harry, please don't hesitate to spend the rest of the summer with me. My parents love you and would love to have you over. I also have a dog that I want you to meet! With love, Hermione."
She taped her letter to a gold and red package before leaving the bedroom. I like her even more now.
She was incredibly kind to him. He was fed variations of chicken, rice, and vegetables. He assumed that his owners were eventually going to wean him onto dog kibble, which he was not looking forward to. Padfoot was pretty sure that the water they gave him was bottled, too. Hermione also took him on walks daily. The walks left Padfoot sore. It made him realize just how much muscle mass he had lost. Hell, he was locked in a 6x6 cell for 12 years. And he was 6'2"! It was awful!
When Hermione returned to her room, she came over and plopped herself alongside him on the bed. The lights were still on and she hadn't changed into her pajamas yet, but Padfoot could tell by the way that her eyes were fluttering close that she was about to fall asleep. This was the latest that he had ever seen her stay up.
11:30pm? Wow. She's quite the party animal.
Padfoot inwardly chuckled as he moved to make his way to the foot of the bed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something brown sticking out of her hair.
A feather?
He immediately scrambled to her and inspected the feather
An owl feather? AN OWL FEATHER!
He barked at the girl and stuck his butt into the air, his tail wagging rapidly. Hermione rolled over so that her back was to him and grumpily shooed him away.
He jumped off the bed and immediately began inspecting the room with new eyes. His snoot was sniffing furiously along the carpet. Her bookshelf resembled the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but would you look at that?! HOGWARTS: A HISTORY!
SHE'S A WITCH! A WITCH!
Padfoot wasn't sure exactly what this meant for him, but he couldn't hold back the grin from his face. After over a decade of only being around Dementors, it was nice knowing that he now lived with a witch. He did not miss the Dementors. Every night since his escape, Padfoot was terrorized by them in his dreams. As the excitement of his discovery ebbed away, Padfoot made his way back onto Hermione's bed. He had a feeling that the freaky creatures would haunt him again tonight.
Harry had yet to write Hermione back. Despite Ron's continued attempts to make her play hangman with him (honestly, she already knew that the word was probably 'penis' simply because it was Ron and it was a five lettered word) she could tell that Ron was worried about Harry, too.
On top of that, her dog's behavior became puzzling seemingly overnight. Hermione did not know what had happened. He searched her room endlessly. Whenever she left the room, he would hurry after her and follow. Once he saw the inside of her closet, he took an immediate liking to her Hogwarts cloaks that were tucked in the back. Her dog finally seemed content when she wrapped him up in her cloak at night. Maybe Hogwarts scent comforted him as it did her?
The worst thing of all was that she still had yet to name him. Hermione had read so many books with so many characters in them, and yet she could not find a name that felt fitting. Her father referred to him as Black Jack, while her mother called him Cosmos. He seemed to like both of those names, but she couldn't bring herself to call him either of them. They felt close, but not quite right.
Hermione laid tucked under her covers when she felt Padfoot stand on the queen-sized bed on all fours. She peeled her eyes open to see the black mass with his tail stick straight, nose pointed to her door, and the fur along his neck and back raised. Curious and frightened by how alert her dog was, she reached under her bed for her baseball bat.
Joining softball in primary school had been a poor attempt at trying to make friends, but the bat in her hands definitely came in handy now. Maybe it was because it was 1AM or maybe it was because she was a reckless Gryffindor, but Hermione eased open her bedroom door. Her bare feet padded down the hallway as she followed her dog to the front of the house. Her goosebumps along her arms and legs were illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight through blinds.
Padfoot stopped before the front door, hackles raised, and let out a deep, guttural growl that she had never heard him make before. She peeked through the peephole in the door.
Through the fisheye view she saw none other than her best friend Harry Potter. He was wearing an oversized ratty hoodie and grass-stained torn jeans. His eyes were bloodshot and his lip quivering, but under it all was Harry Potter.
"Love, it's okay. I know who it is," she whispered to her dog who immediately sobered up and calmly moved aside.
"Be a good boy and go back to my room? I'll be there in a bit," Hermione watched as Padfoot eyed her before heading back into the shadows towards her room.
The unlocking of the door was loud in the quiet of the night. Harry raised his head in surprise. Hermione stood in the doorway with her mouth open yet no words coming out. She knew that Ron was his best mate. Why didn't Harry go to Ron's? Hermione also knew that Harry wasn't going to be the one to initiate the hug, but Hermione knew that he needed it. She gently wrapped her arms around him and felt him stiffen before he embraced her back. Though they were the same height, Hermione felt his head tuck into the crook of her neck. Her neck felt suspiciously wet, but she would never tell Harry that. The last thing he needed right now was to feel dumb for crying. This was why he came to me, she thought as she felt his emotions pouring off him and waves.
"I blew up Aunt Marge," he mumbled the confession into her shoulder. "She looked like a blimp," he admitted before pulling back and looking into Hermione's eyes.
She struggled to think of what Ron would do in this situation. All she wanted to do was berate Harry for being so irresponsible. Accidental magic at 13? On a Muggle? Really?
"Isn't that her normal state?" Hermione said.
Harry quirked a watery smile before entering her house. They chatted a bit as Hermione fixed the two of them cups of tea. She stirred in a bit of sugar before handing the mug to the distraught boy.
"I'm gonna have to go back to them," Harry said.
"Because of the blood wards?" She asked.
Harry nodded. They sipped their teas in silence. The clock ticked in the background and a lone cricket was heard.
"What are you thinking, Hermione?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Don't act like I don't know you. You're too quiet. You're thinking of something. What is it?"
She smiled at him, a little embarrassed by how predictable she was. "Magic is all about intent, yeah?"
Harry nodded.
"You were raised Muggle, too. Have you ever heard of becoming blood brothers?"
He nodded once more before furrowing his eyebrows.
"You want to be my brother?" He asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. Harry snorted, realizing his error.
"What exactly would becoming "blood brothers" do?"
"I don't know."
"Don't lie to me. You know everything."
She laughed at him. "I don't know everything. I really don't know what it would do, but if we intend to become actual siblings through the "ritual", then who's to say that the blood wards wouldn't cover you when you're with me?"
Harry's mouth gaped open. He ran his hand through his untamable hair. "Geez, Hermione... I don't know. Blood magic can be pretty heavy. And isn't "blood thicker than water"? Wouldn't Aunt Petunia's bond trump yours and mine?"
"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb," she corrected him.
Her words hung in the air. Harry folded his hands on the table. He really hated living with the Dursleys, so shouldn't the obvious answer be "yes"? Maybe he should think this through though...Hell, when had he ever thought things through? What did he have to lose?
"Isn't this kind of reckless?"
"Yes…"
"Okay. I'm game."
Hermione snorted and walked over to a drawer and pulled out a short knife. She turned on the gas stove and held the knife over the flame until the metal glowed. Hermione then held it under a steady cold stream of water under the sink faucet until the metal no longer hissed and released steam.
She sat back down across the table from Harry. He watched as she created a small scratch onto the palm of her hand. Harry held his hand palm up to her and tried to school his expression to conceal the slight pain. Once the blood began to bead from the scratch, he reached for her hand and the two of them intertwined fingers. Their blood mingled together. He thought of all of the times that Hermione had stayed by his side. He thought of how she always helped him; whether it be loaning him almost all of her quills throughout the school year or by spending hours in the library studying how to help him in his next moral dilemma. He had good friends. His heart clenched as he thought about how much he cared for them.
Hermione and Harry's hands emitted a soft gold glow before fading. They felt their energy deplete.
"C'mon. You can sleep in my bed tonight," she said, ready for some peace and quiet.
The second they entered her room, her dog attacked.
Padfoot threw himself at Harry. Harry fell to his knees and struggled to stand as a giant black ball of fur licked his face all over. The dog whined and barked at Harry.
"Down, boy. Down! Be nice. Oh my goodness, Harry. I'm so sorry. I've never seen him act like this!" Hermione said amidst her dog's bizarre noises and Harry's breathless laughter.
Harry wrapped his arms around the dog and felt the dog's squirming slow down.
"Hey there!" Harry said to the dog who barked in response. "What's his name?" Harry grinned up at Hermione.
"Not sure. My parents both have different names for him and I haven't decided what to call him yet."
Harry cupped the panting dog's face before petting his head. "I think his name is Bear."
"But he's a dog?" She retorted.
"He's a bear. Look at the size of him Hermione."
She shook her head at him and promptly grabbed an extra pillow and threw it onto her bed.
Harry struggled to shed his hoodie as the dog jumped onto him. Harry and Hermione both crawled into bed and allowed the exhaustion to take over them. The two of them locked hands sometime during the night. Probably around the same time Padfoot crawled halfway on top of Harry and stared at the sleeping teen's face until the wee hours of the morning.
