Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own HP!
"Hermione," someone called, "Dinner's ready!"
The girl looked at Sirius sympathetically, then said, "Goodbye! I hope you find something decent to eat!" And she disappeared around the corner. Sirius knew he couldn't let her get away, not if she knew something about Hogwarts, about Harry. He watched her go inside, then lay silently between the bushes. As he watched people walk by in the Muggle neighborhood, a young boy reached out to pet him.
"Don't do that," said his mother urgently, grabbing his hand. "I think it's rabid."
Sirius resisted the urge to jump out and lick her face. Once a Marauder, always a Marauder. He was many things, but not rabid.
One of these things was impatient. Less than five minutes later, he was on his feet—paws, that is—heading for a window to watch the Muggle—well, somewhat Muggle, as he had found out—family eat. Then he saw something overhead: it was an owl. His tail wagged with glee. He was right. The owl flew in through an open window and dropped the letter on the dinner table.
"I can't get used to that," the man at the table said. A Muggle.
"Sorry," said Hermione, picking up the letter. In the next room, she sat the letter on her desk beneath the window that the owl had come through. She returned to the table.
In an attempt to make conversation, her father said, "So, that was, ah..."
"Hedwig," replied Hermione. "Harry's owl."
Sirius pricked his ears. Could it be...?
"That's nice, dear. Well, anyway, today, your mum and I had this patient..."
Sirius trotted around the house to the window, which was still open. He put his front paws on the window sill, but his toenails started slipping against the smooth surface. He jumped up again, causing a loud crash. Even as a dog he was clumsy.
"What's that racket?" said Hermione's mother loudly.
"Maybe Hedwig's stuck inside," suggested Hermione, getting up from the table.
She found him half inside the window with his back legs hanging out. Pathetic, thought Sirius. Perfect.
She crossed her arms. "Fine. Keep quiet." He was in. Hermione returned once again to the dinner table. Amazing, thought Sirius. Easiest thing I've done in twelve years.
He found what he was looking for. That letter.
Hermione,
Thanks for the broomstick servicing kit you sent for my birthday. I also got a Pocket Sneakoscope from Ron and The Monster Book of Monsters from Hagrid. At such point that the book stops attacking me and allows me to open it, these will all be fantastic gifts. I hear Ron's been in Egypt—sounds brilliant! Knowing the Dursleys, of course, I can't say I'll see you soon, but if I'm lucky we'll meet up in Diagon Alley. I'll send a note with Hedwig if I get any details on when I'll be there—and if she hasn't gone on strike. She's not getting much to eat unless she hunts for herself. Thanks again for the present,
Harry
PS—Of course I've been doing my homework. Granted, I've been doing it by wand-light, when I get a chance to pick the lock on the cupboard and get my wand out, but I've got the feeling that Madame Pomfrey would be seeing a lot of me if I walked into Snape's class having not done my homework.
Sirius was satisfied. He knew something about his godson. He had two best friends, one of which Sirius was standing in the bedroom of.
Hermione walked into the room, finding him leaning over the letter. She gasped.
"You can't eat that! It's the only letter I've gotten from Harry all summer!"
She read the letter quickly, concentrating.
"Poor Harry."
Sirius gave a sympathetic whine.
"No kidding. They used to lock him in that cupboard, you know," she said, pointing at the word, cupboard.
"Well, at least he's got the sense to do his homework, unlike some people." She rummaged in the desk and pulled out the Daily Prophet from several days ago, picturing the Weasleys in Egypt.
"It's not as if he can't pick up a quill and some parchment in Egypt."
"Hermione, who are you talking to?" said a voice loudly.
"No one!" she replied. She pushed Sirius under the desk, as well as the Daily Prophet, as if knowing that he would want to read it. Sirius looked closely at the picture, and saw something on the shoulder of a boy in the center of the picture, who he assumed must be Ron.
It was a rat with nine front toes.
