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Ow. For a moment that was all that Sarah Osaka's mind could register. Slammed hard against the pavement by some "thing", she found herself unable to do anything but wheeze like a landed fish in an attempt to get some air back into her lungs. At the edge of her mind she could dimly register a babble of voices and could feel someone grab her hand, but it took several minutes before her vision cleared enough to focus on her son's face. Derek peered down at her with terrified brown eyes and she made an attempt to squeeze his hand reassuringly.
"Mum?" He asked worriedly, "Are you alright?"
No, not really, Sarah thought, moving her limbs cautiously. Both arms and legs moved when she tested them, but her head swam when she sat up, and from the way her ribs protested she was pretty sure that she'd have some spectacular bruises in a couple of days.
"I'll live." Giving her son a smile, she struggled to her feet. She'd been arguing with the guard hadn't she? Remembrance seeped through her confused mind and Sarah brushed the worst of the dirt off her skirt primly, ignoring the fact that her tights were laddered beyond repair and her bottom lip stung with the metallic taste of blood. The guard in question watched her with outright panic.
"Look. Lady, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean… I mean your boy was helping that man. I couldn't just…" The guard tapped his wand against his leg repetitively, his young face twisted with anguish. "Are you alright? I could get one of the healers. It's my first week see? I don't…"
Sarah listened to him prattle on, understanding perhaps half of it and sighed. The kid, and he was a kid; from his slightly pockmarked skin to the way that he had half untucked his uniform in a tiny display of rebellion, he practically screamed "fresh out of Hogwarts and failed badly enough at OWLs to grab the first job opportunity that came to hand." Now, shifting nervously from foot to foot, he looked at her imploringly and she felt the anger at the youth who had frogmarched her son out of the Ministry of Magic and almost got her killed, wane.
"I'm fine," she said quietly, getting to her feet. "Shouldn't you be off looking for the man that had been holding my son captive?"
"Yeah. I mean I'll do that." The young guard made a hasty exit, pausing only once to apologise again.
"Mum." Derek's hand was warm and familiar in hers as he tugged it to get her attention, but the look on his face was worried. "The dog. The dog's hurt."
"Dog?" Confused, Sarah followed her son's gaze. Underneath the wheely bin that was parked as camouflage for the Ministry of Magic's front steps was a dark shape. A still, unmoving shape, but definitely one of the canine persuasion.
"The dog that pushed you out of the way." Obviously satisfied that his mum was alright, Derek ran over to the stricken dog and touched it tentatively. "Come on, we've got to help it," he called out. "It got hit by a bus."
A bus. A dark thing knocking her out of the way… "Sweet Merlin", Sarah whispered, hurrying over. The dog was big, its shaggy coat black as midnight, but not of a breed that she could identify with her limited knowledge of other people's pets. Pulling it out from underneath the wheely bin carefully but with no little effort, Sarah did a quick check as to the animal's injuries. The right front leg was broken; from the way it was twisted anyone would have noticed that, and from her tentative touch the animal's ribcage seemed wrong, as did its laboured breathing. Rocking back on her heels, she tried to think of the best course of action. There were healers at the Ministry but they wouldn't exactly welcome her dragging some muggle's pet into be treated and she was in enough trouble as it was.
"We've got to help it." Derek's voice was decisive and Sarah nodded. Goodness knew what the Ministry would think when she turned up tomorrow. Bringing her son to work was against regulations; that the aforesaid son had managed to promptly get held hostage by a mad-man wouldn't go down well either - but all that would have to wait. The animal needed help and there wasn't time to wrestle with bureaucracy. Slipping off her coat she draped it over the dog and reached for her son's hand. After casting a quick invisibility spell she apparated them together, their disappearance noticed by no-one but a slightly perturbed tramp who blinked once and then settled back down into his bed of old newspapers.
"Charlie!"
Engrossed in the latest edition of Wizarding Geographic magazine, it took a moment for the stocky red-head to work out where the noise was coming from, but recognising the voice of his school-boy crush turned best friend, Charlie Weasley unfurled himself from the chair he had been sitting in and padded into the next room. Sarah Osaka's head bobbed strangely in the kitchen fireplace, her eyes brightening when he approached her.
"About bloody time," she scolded, "I've been calling for five minutes - what are you, deaf?"
"Sorry." Yawning widely, Charlie crouched down beside the fireplace. "You might give a bloke a bit of notice when you fancy a chat though. I could be in bed with a Veela or something for all you know."
"You were probably reading something complicated and boring about animals if I know you," Sarah retorted. "Anyway, I didn't come here for a chat. I've got a dog that's been hit by a car at my house, would you mind coming over and taking a look at it? I'm sorry to ask, but you know me and muggles - if I take it to the verian… Vetrian…"
"Veterinarian?" Charlie asked mildly.
"Oh you know what I mean," Sarah said crossly. "Animal doctor. Veteri-whatsit. I'll just make an idiot out of myself and end up having to obliviate half a dozen people. The stupid thing saved my life and it's probably in a lot of pain. Come on Charlie, I don't know who else to ask." She gave him an imploring look, but she needn't have done so. They'd been friends for years and any mention of an animal in trouble was enough incentive for him to take action.
"Alright," he agreed resignedly. "Give me five minutes, I'm on my way. You can explain to me how you've decided to turn Doctor Doolittle on me then."
The bobbing head ensconced in green flame looked puzzled. "Isn't Doolittle the minister for the control of magical portraits? What are you on about?"
Shaking his head, Charlie smiled. "It's a muggle thing, don't ask. See you in a minute."
Thanks, Charlie, I owe you one." With a relieved smile Sarah was gone, leaving only the merrily crackling fire behind her.
Letting out a sigh, Charlie got to his feet, unhooking a sweatshirt from its perch upon the chair, his bare feet toeing his trainers from under the sink. Tugging them on, not bothering with tying the laces, he grabbed his wand and apparated with a faint pop.
Sarah fidgeted anxiously as she waited for her friend to arrive. Although she wasn't much more than a glorified clerical assistant, she had seen enough in the war to make sure that her home was protected with some strong spells and kept the number of people that were permitted to apparate there to a minimum. The pop that Charlie made as he arrived in the hallway was therefore unusual enough to bring Derek bounding down the stairs, away from the dog he had been tending.
"Thanks Charlie." Sarah gave the somewhat tousled red-head a grateful smile. "I'm sorry, I wouldn't have asked, but…"
Charlie shrugged and waved the question away. "Doesn't matter. Where's the dog?"
"It's in the bedroom. Derek, could you make us all some hot chocolate?" Sarah asked, hustling Charlie up the stairs of her small cottage, a smile flitting across her face when Charlie gave Derek a pat on the shoulder and a "hello mate" as he passed. "I didn't think that it would fit on the couch so I put it on my bed."
"Better hope that it doesn't have fleas then," he muttered, following his friend into her bedroom. The small room was lit with several everlasting candles and there was still a little light cast by the setting sun outside the window, but even so it was a little difficult to make out the form of the animal that lay upon the witch's bed.
"Hey there boy," Charlie murmured quietly. "Or girl. Let's have a look at you." Keeping his wand handy, he approached the unconscious animal. From the looks of things it was dead to the world, it's breathing slow and deep, its eyes closed. Something at the back of Charlie's mind twitched; a feeling of faint recognition, but before he could pin it down it was lost.
"Can you help it?" Sarah asked quietly, moving beside him. "I know it sounds crazy but it saved my life."
"Maybe."
Preoccupied, Charlie barely heard her. The dog had broken bones, but they could be mended easily enough, and from the sound of the animal's breathing, its lungs were undamaged. Reaching out, he placed a hand on the rough coat and muttered a swift incantation. Nothing happened so there were apparently no internal injuries. "Probably," he amended. "You said it was hit by a car?"
"A bus." Reaching down, Sarah stroked the matted fur of the dog on her bed. "It knocked me out of the way. Maybe it was scared of the traffic or something; it was certainly lucky for me. It hasn't got a collar so I don't think that it can be anyone's pet."
"If it is then it's better off without its owners," Charlie muttered, eying the bones that jutted beneath the shaggy coat. "Give me a minute and I'll have a go at fixing the leg and ribs. It'll need rest though; you're going to be sleeping on the sofa tonight."
"That's alright." Sarah moved beside him and tentatively ran a hand over the dog's head. It whined when Charlie straightened the broken foreleg and cast an Emmendo spell, but other than opening its eyes briefly, remained still. "There's a good boy," she whispered to it, "there's a good dog."
It didn't take the dragon wrangler long to heal the dog's broken ribs, however he was well aware that his expertise was more useful in the dragon-centric area of veterinary care, and this sorry lump of hairy canine was certainly no dragon. Doing as best he could, he sat back and surveyed his handiwork, wishing that he knew of a detangling spell. His mother had used one on Ginny more than once, but he had dismissed it as "girl stuff". Now he regretted not paying better attention, for the shaggy creature might seem a little less pathetic if its coat was clean.
"I've done what I can," he said finally. "Can you pass me my bag? I've got a sleeping draught in there - it'd be better to keep it under until tomorrow; give the Emmendo spell a chance to work."
Sarah nodded and passed him the little bag that Charlie had brought with him. After rummaging around in it for a moment he brought out the bottle of sleeping draught and carefully placed a couple of drops on the dog's tongue. She said nothing about the fact that the bottle was half empty, despite knowing full well that it had been full when she had seen it in his kitchen only days ago, and knew better than to ask.
"Is it a he or a she?" Sarah asked. "I'm just calling it "dog" at the moment." She gave a wry giggle and grinned at her friend. "I mean I'm not going to start calling it "bitch" if it's a girl; that wouldn't exactly be setting a good example to Derek, but it would be nice to know the gender of whoever is mucking up my freshly laundered bed sheets."
Charlie grinned. "You can keep calling it "dog". Don't worry, he's still a step up from a couple of your boyfriends in Hogwarts."
Wrinkling her nose, Sarah shook her head at him, her somewhat rude reply prevented by the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the stairs. Derek's head peered from around the doorway, his eyes curious as he surveyed the scene.
"Chocolate's ready." Stepping into the room, he tentatively touched the dog. "Is it ok?" he asked. "I mean it's not dead is it?" he looked worriedly at the still form of the animal on the bed.
"No, it's not dead, and it'll probably be ok," Sarah said, watching her son as he looked down in fascination at the dog. Anticipating his next question, she added, "and no, we can't keep it."
"But…" Derek cut off his argument when his "uncle" Charlie shook his head at him from his perch on the bed beside his mother.
"It's too big, Dez," he said kindly. "Animals need space, and the city isn't any place for a dog like that." Getting to his feet, he cast a last glance down at his patient and nudged Sarah to the doorway. "Now did someone say something about hot chocolate?" Following them out of the room he flicked his wand to extinguish the candles and tried to ignore the sense that something wasn't quite right when the shape of the dog was lost to the inky darkness.
Sirius slept. The blackness was nothing new - at the back of his mind he acknowledged and despaired of it, but this time it was not unremitting. There were flashes of light, things that made his paws twitch and his breathing quicken. Green light and harsh laughter, coldness that went bone deep. There was a forest and animals running beside him, only they weren't quite animals were they? They were….. The blackness came again, but this time there was a softer light, a softer voice, a kind hand soothing away the pain. The vision was lost as quick and as soon as he had time to register it, and he whimpered with loss.
Sirius slept. But for the first time in eight years, he dreamed.