Black Dog

"What do you mean you're moving out?" exclaimed Sirius Black as he frowned deeply at his godson across the dining table. He watched as the Potters exchanged looks before Ginny smiled apologetically at the older man.

"We love Grimmauld Place, but we want a place of our own. Our family has grown so much."

"Do you feel cramped? We can always get permits to charm an extension," offered Sirius, holding his hand out as if it was obvious. Harry shook his head.

"We want to move to Godric's Hollow. I…" he trailed off for a moment as he ran a hand through his usually messy hair. His eyes cast down for a moment before returning to his godfather. "I want to fix up my parents' home. It's still been in shambles—I've done nothing with it since taking ownership after the war. I would like to make memories there."

Sirius sat like a statue as he stared at his godson with an unreadable expression, a single finger running idly around the rim of his coffee cup. He felt a strange feeling overcome him—his eyes stung unexpectedly—before he gave the young couple a knowing smile. He could not blame them; that house held so many memories for him, he could understand why they would want to finally build a life in the ancestral Potter home.

"I understand," he said finally as a smile graced his face. He blinked away the wetness that threatened his steel eyes. "I completely understand. I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't miss you all here, under my roof. Especially the children."

"We will only be a floo away," said Ginny with a wink.

"Yeah, and before you know it, you'll have more godchildren than you can handle," said Harry with a laugh. Sirius' eyes widened and the redhead shot her husband a murderous look.

"You're—"

"No!" growled Ginny as she smacked her husband's forearm with a snap, causing the man to break into more laughter. "Three children are enough!"

Harry continued to laugh, his godfather joining soon after, increasing into unattractive guffaws at the reddening patches that scattered across Ginny's face as she huffed. She stood and grabbed her plate of crumbs, shot the two men a lethal look, and made for the kitchen.

"Harry James Potter I will castrate you!" she snapped before disappearing in the doorway. Harry gulped audibly, exchanging glances with Sirius, before they settled into low snickers.

"Three children really are enough," Sirius finally agreed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Harry shrugged as his laughter died down and his eyes averted to his mug.

"I wouldn't mind a big family like the Weasley's," he muttered. Sirius sighed dramatically as he stood and cuffed the young man's shoulder affectionately.

"Well, thank the Gods you really are moving out, then. I have enough greys." He offered Harry a wink and light chuckle before leaving the man alone to his thoughts.

Sirius stepped into the foyer and paused for a moment as his eyes roved around the ancestral Black home. Gone was the peeling, dark wallpaper, the musty stench, and unwelcoming baubles; it has become so bright and warm in the past few years, both visually and spiritually. The walls knew laughter. The home knew love. He felt disappointment fill his chest as he imagined the emptiness it will contain once the Potters moved into their new home; with the Lupins away most of the year at Hogwarts, he realized it would just be him within these walls once it begins lacking much of the laughter and warmth it nursed for years.

He imagined, for a moment, small children of his own running amuck on miniature broomsticks around Grimmauld; he imagined the small tugs on his trousers as he read or cooked; he fantasized about a faceless woman humming in a rocking chair with a baby and stealing photos of her in a garden. Sirius' wore a wispy smile as the fantasies melted with the next, his eyes still gazing around absently, his thoughts elsewhere as quiet footsteps approached him.

"Are you alright, Sirius?" came Ginny's voice, quiet and soft. Sirius blinked the haze away and turned to her, a slight pinkness tinging his high cheeks.

"Hmm?"

"You were staring at nothing," she said, her eyes following where his gaze was. Her eyes rolled over, taking in the vastness of the estate, before falling on the man with a knowing look. A Molly Weasley look. She drew closer to him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "You know you will always be welcomed at the Potter house, Sirius. You can see the kids whenever you like—we can have our own Sunday dinners."

Sirius smiled in return and squeezed her hand. "Thank you, Ginny. That means a lot to me."

Ginny looked at him sternly once more, tapping his arm. "You know, I hear you tell Remus all the time about him getting back out there and finding someone. The same goes for you, Sirius; Remus knew love at one point—but you never really have. You deserve to be happy, too, Pads."

She gave him one more look over before turning heel and padding back into the dining room. Sirius watched her go as he fought the uncomfortable tightness that scratched in his throat and he sighed, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

"Bollocks."

Before Sirius knew it, he found himself half a kilometer away from the quaint white house in the outskirts of London. Everything was so vibrant and focused, even in the greyness of autumn, and the smells damp and rich with each twitch of his snout. He could feel the rocky gravel displace under his padded feet with every slow trot before stepping into the wet grass between him and the house in the distance. His ear involuntarily curved to one side as he caught the squeaks of nearing field mice fervently alerting each other of his presence before hearing their tiny feet scurry off through the green blades. He made a weird sound between cough and sneeze as his human persona laughed at the thought of Remus having to give him yet another flea bath after his trek through the country field

The green door of the house was clearer with every step and he felt a slight elevation in his heart rate; his shaggy form came to a slow halt as he shifted from leg to leg, whining slightly.

What are you doing here, Sirius? He thought to himself with a snotty huff. He paced a little as he panted then shook his coat free of the dew building up from the misty land. You are not respecting her boundaries!

Sirius mentally argued with himself as his paws took him closer and closer to the home where Hermione dwelled; he was so deep in internal struggle he did not realize he grew so close until her scent hit his nostrils and immediately satiated his nerves. Remus was right: she smelled so welcoming, so soft, and even permeated past the cologne filled air from the other blonde men. His nose twitched in the air as he sniffed and slowly paced a good distance around the property until he found a small bed of weeds to lay upon below a tree behind it. The black dog laid his head gently on crossed paws and huffed in content as a calmness quelled his nerves, his big eyes gazing up at the windows. A gentle weight pulled at his lids, an inevitable nap calling him in the future, but, for now, he fought it, and simply basked in the comfort he did not know he needed.

The shaggy mutt woke up sometime later when his sensitive ears caught wind of crickets beginning their song, a telltale sign of nightfall. He yelped as he jumped with a start when he felt a palm press against his snout and almost growled until he met the eyes of the young Malfoy crouched before him. The young man, who smelled like clove and sweet nectar— which was unexpected for a Malfoy, the dog figured—crouched before the animagus with curious eyes, his chin resting in one palm as the pointer finger of the other gently scratched the dog's nose.

"I haven't seen you around here before," said Draco, still scratching. Sirius felt the urge to roll his eyes, pulling his snout from his fingers only to have the blonde reach out and caress his neck. "Hm, no collar either."

Draco stared at him for a moment, still crouched, his loafers digging into the mud. Sirius observed the stains on the boy's rolled up sleeves and front, and sniffed: olive oil and cooking wine. He could also smell the strong odor of garlic from his long fingers, and the other herbs he clutched from the garden. The dog cough-sneezed again, humored by the unusual domestication of a Malfoy, which earned him a raised brow from the young wizard and slight frown.

"If you have a home, you should go to it. Might get sick," he said with a shrug. Sirius huffed and leaned his head down to rest once more upon his large paws. Draco considered him again. "My father doesn't really care for animals other than his stupid peacocks and the horses. If he finds you here, he may hex your bollocks off—if you have any."

Sirius barked loudly at that before panting and settling down again, amused by the boyish glint that flickered in the blonde's cool yet thoughtful eyes.

"I mean, I'm sure Hermione could convince him to keep you."

Shit.

"He won't be happy about it, but he rarely says no to her," he continued thoughtfully. Sirius was pleasantly taken aback by how carefree and unpoised his cousin seemed in this moment; he saw and sensed no edge to him, no reigns tightened in his casual form. He was cooking, that was for sure, which surprised the animagus by itself; but this boyish nature was refreshing—it reminded him almost of himself before Azkaban. Sirius' picked up his head when Draco suddenly turned heel to walk back to the house and settled down again when the wizard disappeared through the door. His eyes grew heavy again, and just as he began accepting the sandman once more, he heard the doorknob turn.

Draco stalked back across the stretch of grass to where the animagus rested and placed a small bowl of fat and grizzle from a steak, just bloody enough; Sirius could feel his mouth salivate—he loved those cuts in his beast form. Not forgetting himself, he looked up at his cousin once more, confused by the gesture. The boy shrugged again.

"It was just going into the trash, anyway. And it's better than the cat food I was going to give you."

Sirius huffed again. Damn right, it was.

Just when Sirius was about to chow down on the much-appreciated grub, he heard he door creak open again, and Hermione's smell immediately invaded his nostrils. His head snapped up and he felt his heart patter against his ribs when he saw her disheveled form in the doorway. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun, curls wild and sticking on end from the humidity, with a grey woven cardigan covered in some flour wrapped around her, slightly hanging off a shoulder.

"Draco? What're you…" she began as she plopped whatever was on her fork into her mouth and slowly chewed. She paused when her eyes fell on the mutt laid before Draco, watching as its ears folded back and head dipped in shame. Hermione trotted down the path, barefoot in the grass, and closed the distance between her and her best friend, who rubbed his cheek absently as a slight flush spread across his face.

"It's a stray. He seemed hungry."

Hermione's soft eyes looked up at Draco in surprise, which only caused the young man's flush to deepen, and Sirius could immediately feel the blonde's body tense slightly.

"I'm not like father. I like dogs," grumbled Draco. Hermione simply smiled, figuring it was better not to tease her softening friend in front of their guest.

"Why don't you finish up dinner, Draco?" suggested Hermione. He nodded, glancing at the dog and back to Hermione, then turned to leave again.

"Just make sure you clean your hands. He's filthy!" the prat called back to her before disappearing inside the home again. Hermione's smile was glued to her face as she nodded at Draco fervently, still stuck even when she turned back to the black dog, before it cracked into snorting giggles. Sirius barked playfully at her, shaking his head free from dampness again.

"Oh, Pads, you really kept him going, didn't you?" Hermione whispered as she crouched before him. "Draco has a soft spot for animals—I'm sure that surprised you."

Sirius snorted but bowed his head, agreeing with her. He watched as her flour dusted hand reached out for his head and relished in the goosebump inciting scratches she gave through his wet hair.

"What are you doing here, Padfoot? I'm not complaining, just surprised. You could have just used the front door," said Hermione, amusement pinching her eyes. Sirius nudged his wet nose against her forearm before low crawling forward a few inches, closing the space between them, and rested his head in the crook of her arm. Hermione paused for a moment. "Are you okay, Sirius?"

Sirius released a low whine that turned into a frustrated grumble. What was he doing there? All he knew was that he needed to get out for a little while; he needed to run, which he did, and feel the vastness of the world around him; to mull over his torn feelings from earlier before they ate away at him, just to forget it all once his pads hit grass. Before he knew it, he found himself so close to that little white house, as if it was a beacon to his very soul.

And maybe it was.

"Padfoot?" came the soothing voice of Hermione. His eyes slowly turned up at her, but he did not remove his head from her arms. He watched as her lips parted and brow came together, concern clearly written across her features, which only made him want to bury his face further from her scrupulous eyes. Her voice was soft and gentle, full of love and void of any judgment. "I'm here for you, Pads. Sirius. If you can't sleep and the days are too hard, my doors are always open to you. Why don't you come inside?"

Sirius felt a swell of emotion nearly burst through his chest, so strong that he almost transformed back into his human form, his control quivering. He wanted nothing more than to stay with her in this moment, but deep down, Sirius knew his feelings were not tamed. There was a leak in the bottle. It was an overwhelming day and he knew it was unfair to unload his inner turmoil on the young woman before him, who stayed away from the magical realm for a reason. He could not do that to her in good conscience.

So, instead, he stood to his four paws and barked happily, nearly startling Hermione. It warmed him to know his presence did not cause her any discomfort—the feeling almost snuffed out the existential worry from earlier in the day. Padfoot rose his nose slowly to Hermione's, wet and cold, and licked her in amusement when her eyes crossed ridiculously to focus on him. She laughed lightly before wiping her face on the back of her cardigan and casted him a half stern expression.

"Mutt," she said, laughing when Sirius' huffed and side-eyed her in obvious annoyance. She stood, wiping her hands on her legs, and glanced back at the house then back to him. A sad smile pulled at her lips as she studied the animagus with contemplative, knowing eyes. "Come back soon, Sirius."

He barked enthusiastically with his whole body then ran around her quickly before darting out into the darkening field before him, disappearing from Hermione's sight with a lighter heart.