Chapter Twelve
December 1988
The years since the last soul shard was destroyed had been peaceful and calm. Harry grew like a weed. Sirius blinked and the little baby that had rescued him was an eight-year-old lad soon to be on his way to Hogwarts. The thought of Harry at Hogwarts had Padfoot brooding. The Dark Nutter would try to come back eventually. If the goblins were right, the spirit was growing stronger and had begun to move in the world again. Aberforth had heard the whisperings in the dark corners of his pub. Harry would be vulnerable at school. To make matters worse, Wormtail was still out there. Peter Pettigrew had been hiding for as long as Padfoot had but Padfoot knew the rat wasn't dead. The setup he had carried out against Sirius was literally one in the marauders' textbook. Sirius still felt like a complete bint for falling for it.
He needed to come up with a plan so he could accompany Harry to Hogwarts until the traitor and the Dark Nutter were out of the picture. They just needed the evil bastard Voldemort to possess some poor sucker with permission and he would be vulnerable to demise. He was mortal again once more. They just needed to take him out before he could create any more soul shards.
After conspiring with Aberforth, Sirius came up with the perfect plan. Best of all, Harry's Pops would get to carry it out.
Boxing Day was traditionally the day Aberforth came to visit Privet Drive for Yuletide. This year was no different. The only difference this year was he didn't bring a large, brightly colored package with him when he showed up.
Harry was crestfallen.
"I'm sorry scamp," the old man said, ruffling the boy's hair. "I must have forgotten this year. I'll do better next year, yeah?" Harry had tears in his eyes but he was gracious to the man he knew as his grandfather.
"It's okay, Pops," the little boy sniffled. "Santa brought me plenty of presents yesterday." He dried his little eyes and looked to the old man with love.
"Will you come explore with me instead? That would be the best present, anyway," Harry said, warming to the idea. "Hermione will be here this afternoon. She can come with us, too!" The Granger's often joined them for Boxing Day feasting.
"Well," Aberforth said, "if you get to bring a friend, I get to bring a friend, too, okay?" The little boy quickly agreed. "Why don't you come outside with me to look for him?" the old man asked, with a twinkle in his eye.
The pair exited the trunk and went outside into the little area of the garden that had the muggle repelling charms.
"What's this?" Harry exclaimed as he came out the door. Tied to the rail of the two stairs leading into the shed was a small, black puppy with a big red bow around his neck.
"It's my friend. He's come to stay, if that's okay with you, Harry?" the old man asked with a laugh in his voice.
"Yeah!" the little boy yelled, dropping to his knees in the snow beside the rather large puppy. It was a crup-boarhound hybrid. It was a magical pet, bound to live longer than the average dog. The best part about the dog was the part it played in Sirius' plans. The dog looked eerily like a miniature version of Sirius' animagus form. By the time Harry went to Hogwarts in a little over two and a half years, the full-grown dog would be an almost exact replica of Sirius.
Sirius planned to have the dog formally registered as Harry's familiar so it would be allowed to attend Hogwarts with Harry. Sirius could then attend Hogwarts as well. Of course, he'd mostly be inside their home in the travel trunk, hidden away under Harry's Hogwarts bed but when he wanted or needed to be with Harry, he'd just switch places with Harry's familiar and trail after him like the proverbial puppy dog he was for the day. It should work perfectly.
"What's his name?" Harry asked excitedly, as he let the puppy lick his giggling face.
"I don't know, scamp. What do you think his name should be?" Harry couldn't answer immediately. He was too busy laughing over the tickling sensation of the puppy snuffling into his neck.
"Stop snuffling me!" Harry laughingly said to the puppy. "Hey! That's it! His name should be Snuffles!" He laughed and wrestled the puppy on the ground.
"Snuffles it is then," Padfoot said from the doorway into the shed. The older man also agreed and the name was set. A best friendship that would last almost two decades began.
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