Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.

a/n Story dedicated to Moppet Poppet, Cheating Death's 500th reviewer!

I debated over Harry's age with myself for about 2 days before finally settling on early seven. I'm still debating now… I mean… I sort of wanted Harry to be young enough to be childishly innocent, but still old enough to understand what's going on and what's right and wrong. Five is way too young for a child to even retain his memories (although some may think otherwise, but that's what my biology book says anyway). Eight seems a bit mature. I really wanted to make him six though… and I still do. It gives Sirius one year less in Azkanban and one year more to spend with his godson. But some of the things Harry says seems too mature for a six year-old, right? Urg! I don't know. What do you think?

Should Harry be six or seven? Ack!!



Of Western Stars
By neutral



Chapter three - of cold baths



A dog sat with his head on his paws, gazing at the park bench eagerly. Footsteps alerted him, and Sirius jumped to his feet, lips pulled back in a human-like smile.

A little boy walked quickly down the sidewalk; his face brightened the moment it caught sight of him and bounded over in long strides.

"You're still here?" Harry asked breathlessly, giving the dog a fond pat of the head. Harry loved scratching his ears even though he had to practically stand on his toes to reach.

Sirius whined, licking his hand affectionately. That was the first question Harry always asked every time he came; that seemed to be his greatest nightmare. He fought the urge to transform back and spill his whole story. But Sirius couldn't help but wonder what would happen if Harry fled again. He couldn't risk losing his godson forever.

It was a tremendous relief when Sirius came back from his unsuccessful search five days ago to find three slices of apple pie waiting for him in the shroud of bushes. Harry's scent, a strange mix of wet grass and old cupboards, was still fresh in the air. Even though the pie tasted suspiciously like Hagrid's rock cakes, Sirius couldn't help the bubbling feeling of warmth in the back of his mind. Since then, Harry visited daily, always with a bag of food at his side.

"I have cookies," Harry said as he pulled a crumpled bundle from his pocket. "The baker lady gave it to me when I was picking up food for Dudley."

He placed the sheet of tissue, decorated with broken crumbs of chocolate chip cookies, in front of Sirius and watched him expectantly. Sirius inwardly sighed, Harry probably had no idea chocolate was poisonous to dogs. Luckily, Harry was attempting to feed an animagus, otherwise the results would be disastrous.

"Oh wait!" Harry dug around in his oversized pockets again, fishing out another oily bag. "I have a piece of toast I saved from breakfast. Sorry it's a bit burnt, but it was the only thing I could get."

He held it out, and Sirius stared mutely in amazement. No matter how many times Harry brought him food, he was still stunned by the selflessness of the six and a half year-old. It was obviously hard for the boy to even eat enough, but every day, he brought at least something. A thick slice of cheese one day, ten strips of overcooked bacon another; once Harry even brought a whole twelve inch long subway sandwich that made Sirius seriously wonder about the boy's morals (did he steal that thing?!). But no matter how much he brought, Harry himself never ate. Sirius swallowed past a constricted throat; soon, he was going to be like Hagrid, blubbering at every little thing.

"You don't like toast?" Harry asked, noticing his hesitation with some disappointment.

Sirius quickly took a bite of the hardened bread.

Harry looked at him doubtfully. "You don't have to eat it if you don't like it. I can get you something from Mrs. Figg's."

Sirius froze.

Figg? Arabella Figg?! What was his old potion's teacher doing here? No doubt to watch over Harry.

Sirius shook his head and began devouring the toast as fast as he could without choking before starting on the cookies.

"No, don't worry, she won't see you! Mrs. Figg is at the train station meeting someone today, so her house is empty. The Dursleys didn't know that when they dropped me off though…," Harry trailed off when Sirius shot him a reproving glare. "Is something wrong?"

Sirius' parental instincts were kicking in; that was dangerous for a six year-old to stay in a house alone. What was he thinking? He gave Harry a light nip on the hand to show his disapprovement.

Harry missed his thoughts by a mile. "You need a bath," he said, fingering Sirius' long fur when it brushed against his arm. He's face suddenly brightened. "We can use Mrs. Figg's hose in her backyard!"

Sirius grunted and instantly began backing away as far as possible. As inviting as a bath may sound, going to Arabella's was the last thing he wanted.

"Hey, no! You have to! You really smell, come on!" Harry gripped a handful of fur and began tugging as hard as he could. "No one will see you, I swear! She won't be back until late. Please?"

Harry looked at him pleadingly with wide green eyes, his childish face heart-wrenchingly innocent. Sirius paused; who could resist that? He could feel his resolve rapidly dissertating. To risk getting caught, or to risk disappointing his godson? Sirius sighed defeatedly.





Several blocks and several strange looks later, Sirius found himself trotting after a tiny six year-old that was the same height as he. Harry seemed extremely self conscious about the expressions of others; he hid his face in his fur every time someone threw an inquiring glare their way. It was amusing in a way, although he never imagined James' son to be shy. But it was still rewarding to know that Harry found his presence comforting.

Sirius followed the younger child to a nondescript house that reeked of cats and cabbages. Sirius wrinkled his nose. But Harry either didn't notice or didn't care; he pushed the yard door open and hauled Sirius in behind him.

"I hope you don't mind cold water or cat shampoo," Harry said as he reached for the hose.

Sirius shifted uneasily, throwing suspicious glances at the house. It was obviously empty, as was the poorly maintained garden, but he couldn't relax knowing that the risk of being taken away stood stronger than ever.

A sudden douse of icy water tore him from his thoughts. Canine senses kicking in, Sirius shook his fur hard.

"Hey!"

Sirius paused when he realized Harry was probably right beside him. Turning around, he gave the boy a sheepish grin. Harry blinked back in mute surprise, glasses plastered with grimy water and clothes splattered with mud. The hose was laying on the floor, flooding a dried flowerbed.

Sirius whined, wagging his tail.

Harry pouted. "No, bad boy! Don't do that!"

Sirius' jaw dropped.

Bad boy?! He was his godfather!

He glared at the younger boy indignantly, but all protests were dashed from his mind when Harry lifted the running hose directly over his head. The long thick fur stuck to his face and completely screened his eyes. Sirius fought the urge to shake the water out of his fur, mentally wondering if he should be furious or grateful at the boy.

"Stay still, okay?" Harry's voice came somewhere off to the right.

The constant stream of water was gone, replaced by a clump of something cold and sticky. He found feel a small hand rubbing his head, and the distinct aroma of shampoo reached his nose.

Flowers?!

Sirius sneezed, scowling in distaste. Of all the fragrances that Harry could have found, he chooses flowers?

Sirius shook his fur furiously, sending plops of foam and water flying through the air. Harry made a muffled noise of protest, shielding his face with his hands.

"Hey, no!"

Harry caught on to Sirius' neck tightly, dumping half a bottle of soap on his back in the process. His glasses askew, his shirt completely soaked, he began scrubbing the dog's fur with a vengeance. Sirius made a face, trying to escape, but the child had a surprisingly strong grip. Nevertheless, Harry's expression was amusing, but frighteningly reminiscent of James through the times whenever Sirius had teased him. Perhaps it was the memories of his childhood returning, or perhaps it was just the relief of finally being able to be with his godson; without thinking, Sirius clamped his teeth over the hose at his feet and sprayed Harry's face with ice cold water.

"What…?"

Harry's next words were lost in a muffled splutter when he caught a mouth full of water. He jumped away, but the wet grass was slippery beneath his feet; he fell, nearly dragging Sirius with him. Sirius dropped the hose immediately, a bit worried that Harry was hurt. He nudged the boy's shoulder gently, but was completely caught off guard when Harry spun around and threw a handful of shampoo right at his head.

Sirius gaped.

Harry laughed. His face was lit, his eyes brightened, his smile was positively contagious. The first laugh Sirius heard since he met him three days ago, and sounded so much like James that Sirius had to catch and remind himself.

"Bad dog!" Harry reprimanded lightly, sitting up and reaching for the hose again.

Sirius whined, wiping his soapy fur against the boy's messy hair. Harry groaned, wiping his thickly fogged glasses against his shirt but only managed to smudge it more with mud. Sirius grinned triumphantly.

It became war within minutes, with Harry scrambling for safety as Sirius splattered mud and soap over the boy's shirt. He trapped his godson at a corner and discovered, quite by accident, that Harry was hopelessly ticklish. All he needed to do was nudge his neck or ribs for the boy to squirm and burst into laughter. He mercilessly tortured Harry for the better part of half a hour.

"Stop! Stop. St…" Harry broke into another fit of laughter.

Sirius stopped, graciously waiting for him to catch his breath. Harry, taking the opportunity to scramble for safety, twisted around to try to get up. But when Sirius jabbed him lightly in the ribs, he went down again almost choking with mirth.

"Padfoot!" Harry chided weakly.

Sirius froze.

Padfoot? That's… impossible.

Harry drew several deep breaths when the game seemed to have ended with the dog's hesitation. He blinked in confusion. "Where did that come from? I don't know why I called you that, you just seem…" he glanced at Sirius questioningly. "familiar somehow. Can I call you that?"

Sirius stared at Harry in disbelief. His godson remembered him! It was too much to hope for. Sirius sat down beside the boy, resting his head on his shoulder with lips pulled back in a grin.

Harry smiled widely, but it dropped when he raised his eyes to examine the state of the yard.

"Oh no…"

Sirius sat up quickly, stomach plummeting. Arabella's garden was, in short, a disaster. Globs of soap and foam littered the grass, the soil completely flooded. The flowers were crushed, the windows were muddy. Sirius swallowed back guilt, mentally hitting himself; Harry was going to be in trouble because of him…

He looked at Harry for a reaction, who had gone still and silent beside him. Harry visibly paled. He stood up quickly, entire back and a good portion of his face spotted with mud, and instantly began to bring as much order back to the garden as possible.

"Mrs. Figg is going to kill me," he whispered, chewing his lip. "Here, I'll rise the rest of the soap off you. Can you go back to the park by yourself?"

Sirius waited patiently for Harry to douse him in water again, watching him apologetically. It was obvious Harry was extremely tired especially after the hour long chase through the yard. The boy's hand shook slightly with weariness, and his eyes were fighting to stay open.

He let Harry push himself back outside, and ducked behind a bush the instant Harry returned to Arabella's backyard. Sirius mentally timed himself, planning to march back if his godson still hadn't left in ten minutes, but all his thoughts were dashed from his mind the instant a car pulled up in the driveway.

The outline of the senile old lady was distinct in the passenger seat, shielding another person from his view. All the hopes of seeing his godson again that day crushed, Sirius drew himself deeper into the shadows, tracing his way back to the park.





*





Well… this chapter was a bit longer. I sort of tried to jump start the plot so half the time, Harry wouldn't be running away from Sirius, that'll be too mean. Although… I must admit, the idea was tempting.

That's for all those great reviews!

Sorry, no time to reply! I'm living for 2 reports due next week, so I probably won't be posting for a week or so. Ack! I'm beginning to neglect Cheating Death. Urg… I decided to post a chapter just before I disappear into a coma. *sigh*