Disclaimer: I don't own these poor people, I just torment them.
A/N: Yes, it's finally time for the chapter I promised you two chapters ago! I'm sorry about that, but I couldn't leave out my ideas, and I certainly didn't want to end up writing a 6,000-word chapter. But here it is at last! Beware...this chapter involves...*dun dun dun*...MORE attempts by Remus to rescue Sirius! Surprised? Thought so. Yeah, the whole pound thing is getting kind of worn out, but this is the last chapter involving it, I'll tell you that much. Also that the end of the story may be near at hand. Actually, I already know what the ending is going to be, but I don't want to end it for a few more chapters. If you've read OotP, please don't give away anything in your reviews. Some people haven't. It's kind of a pity that this is more or less AU now, but at least I'm not alone. Most HP stories are AU now.
How Much is That Doggie in the Window?
At least Sirius was there. That much he knew. However, as far as escape plans went...
Remus sighed and stifled a strong urge to bang his already sore head on the nearest tree trunk. It might attract unwelcome attention from inside the building, and besides, he didn't want sleep quite that badly. He was a man on a mission, such as it was, and he knew that if he messed up it would probably haunt him in dreams for the rest of his life, however long that might be.
[NO! NO! NO! Ooookay...positive thoughts, Remus, positive thoughts. Just remember...whatever doesn't kill you gets you off work for a few weeks.] Somehow, the power of positive thinking had no effect on him at the moment, so he determinedly moved on to planning his next move. Sneaking in and playing innocent were out, so what were his remaining options? This could take a while.
{Bribery,} a small, still voice in Remus' head whispered.
His head almost hit a low-hanging tree branch in his surprise. [What?] Where had that, of all ideas, come from? Ordinary, law-abiding wizards like him didn't go in for corruption! Why, he wouldn't even know how to go about it. It was, he decided, quite obviously out of the question.
The voice in his head didn't think so. {Look, it's simple. You just walk up to the guy, make sure nobody's looking, and slip him a few Galleons. Easy, huh?} Remus refused to be so easily won over to the dark side—after all, he had standards! He couldn't just nonchalantly subvert a security guard and go on his merry way. His mother had drummed into him soundly the belief that things like that would come back to torment him on dark, stormy nights when he was old and gray and the nightlight had burnt out, and he was terrified at the very thought of risking such a thing.
[Besides,] Remus realized with chagrin, [I don't have any Galleons on me!] He searched his pockets frantically and came up with half of a dust-covered Sugar Quill, a fragment of that abominable rum cake recipe—how in the name of Nimue had that gotten there?—and three forlorn Knuts, which clinked softly against each other. Would this be nearly enough to bribe anyone, especially a Muggle? Not that he would ever do such a thing, oh no! It was purely a theoretical matter...
His thoughts turned to what Sirius would say if he knew his friend had condemned him to imprisonment and possible adoption because of a few puny scruples. Sirius had never held much with scruples and morals and such in the first place, maintaining that their main purpose was to keep people from having fun. And he was right, of course, if one's definition of "fun" involved lying shamelessly to authority figures and pulling pranks right and left. As Sirius always said proudly, he never broke rules—he ground them into fine powder.
No, Sirius would definitely not forgive and forget if he gave up now while he still had a chance to rescue him. Knowing his friend, Remus shuddered to think of the revenge he would take if he ever caught up with him. He had seen Sirius pull pranks that would freeze the blood in one's veins, as well as turning one's hair a charming shade of pale pink for the next two months.
Well. That certainly ruled out going home and living happily ever after, ignoring all dogs of any shape and size and never eating cake again, which was his first instinct. Still, Remus did have his standards, and this bribery notion most definitely went against the grain.
He had to make one last token effort to resist temptation, so he argued, [Muggles don't use wizard money! What will it matter to him?] The voice didn't deign to answer this, and for good reason—Remus knew perfectly well how gullible this bunch of idiots was. Actually, he could probably just give the guard the Sugar Quill, for all the difference it would make.
{Come on, it won't be so bad. And just remember, it could always be much, much worse.}
[I find that hard to imagine,] Remus thought bitterly, wondering what the fact that he was having a heated argument with himself said about his mental state. Any good psychiatrist would probably come to the conclusion that he was about on the level of those loonies who went around in capes pretending they were wizards…
{You could be in the process of being drawn and quartered by Cass. With a rusty scalpel,} the voice suggested cheerfully. Wincing at the all-too-believable thought, Remus sighed, looked down at the Knuts, and gave up the battle.
Two minutes later, he had repeated as much of the mantra on page four of Self-Confidence with Spooks by Gilderoy Lockhart as he could remember and was breathing deeply and methodically as he worked his way across the lawn toward the dreaded door.
[I believe in myself. I can handle anything the known universe can throw at me. I am strong, self-confident, and independent. I will always and forever purchase any new Gilderoy Lockhart books I see, regardless of whether or not the subject interests me or I can spare the money. I will faithfully renew my yearly 50-Galleon subscription to Gorgeous, Glorious Gilderoy, the best magazine in existence, and read every issue religiously until half the pages have fallen out and I am forced to order back issues for the low price of 20 Galleons apiece plus 5 Galleons shipping and taloning. I will only use hair-care potions with a picture of the great Gilderoy Lockhart on the label…]
Remus reached the door and the guard, who was squinting out into the night, obviously reacting to the sounds he had made in the harrowing process of crossing the grass, such as stepping on twigs, stepping on squirrels, and swearing when a branch poked him in the eye. Now was his greatest moment…Remembering the words of the mantra, he bravely stepped forward to experience firsthand the pleasures and dangers of bribery.
"Well, hi there," he said smoothly, noting with vast relief that it was not the guard he had so recently dealt with—that could potentially have ruined the whole thing. "Are you tired of a job that doesn't use your talents?" From his careful study of Muggle culture, he had learned that this method of presentation, despite its clichéd use in thousands of commercials, was by far the most effective way of tricking somebody into doing something they would doubtless regret later. If he had known about this earlier, he would have brought black-and-white pictures of dissatisfied-looking security guards shaking their heads in sorrow, but as it was he would just have to make do without.
Even without the visual aid, the man's shaggy brows were lowered in sudden animal anger at the repressive system that kept him from utilizing his true gifts and interests to create a new life for himself. It was working! Now all Remus had to do was offer a more satisfying alternative and he was practically home free—assuming nothing happened to mess it up this time.
"Now you too can lead a happy, stress-free life thanks to this simple system!" he chirped, looking outrageously excited at the thought. "Two easy steps: simply take this money, absolutely free of charge—" Use of the word "free" was very important in situations like this. "—And just stand there, look the other way, and keep your mouth shut! Don't pass up this great opportunity to make money fast!" This was undoubtedly the stupidest thing Remus had ever done, but he noted to his surprise and disgust that the guard was apparently falling for it.
"Here," he said cheerfully, stuffing the handful of Knuts into the other man's enormous hand. "Take a free sample." The security guard stared blankly down at the tiny coins, the wheels in his head grinding and creaking in protest at the unaccustomed use. Then he looked back up at Remus, but it was too late—he had slipped through the door and locked it behind him.
Remus leaned against the door in relief, still somewhat in shock at the success of his criminal activities. Now all he had to do was find Sirius and get him the heck out of this place...Let's see, he could probably set up something that would distract Cass and her cronies long enough for him to slip in and unlock the cage. Right. Which meant he had to get the key first. At this point, he decided, some serious planning was definitely in order.
His so-called planning was interrupted by a sudden noise from further down the hallway. Looking up in shock, Remus heard a sound like that of a door slamming. In fact, it sounded as if someone had just come in through the main entrance to the building. Other than he himself, who in their right mind would visit the pound at—he checked his watch for the first time in what felt like hours—nine-thirty in the evening?
He quickly ducked underneath a small table as faint voices reached his ears. Making himself as small and table-like as humanly possible, he caught a glimpse of three people at the far end of the corridor. They began moving in his direction, talking animatedly.
"But Daaaaaaadddy!" whined a shrill voice. As the group drew closer, Remus could see that the voice belonged to a little girl, perhaps seven years old, who was wearing a fluffy pink nightgown and slippers to match. She was dragging a stout, middle-aged man in a faded blue bathrobe and complaining at the top of her voice while Cass scuttled along behind the two, wearing an obsequious smile that turned Remus' stomach. "I just have to, you know the dog show's tomorrow and every single other kid in town besides me has a dog and I just can't stand it, you never give me anything—"
"Now Murgatroyd, honey, calm down, you know that's not true," her unfortunate father interrupted nervously. He seemed to be having difficulty catching his breath, but his daughter relentlessly tugged at his hand. Cass continued to smile sickeningly, not wanting to let this potential customer get away. In his hiding place under the table, Remus shuddered and wondered whether Murgatroyd and her father were related to the Dursleys. It certainly seemed possible...
"IT'S NOT FAIR!" howled Murgatroyd, stepping up her frenetic pace down the hallway and ignoring her father's wheezes of protest. "I've always, absolutely always wanted a dog and you and Mommy said no! You're so mean to me I can hardly stand it! I hate you!"
Murgatroyd's father, for whom Remus was now feeling definite sympathy, opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off again. "I want a doggie! I want a big doggie to fetch the newspaper and carry my slippers and scare the neighbors! I want the biggest doggie in the world and I want it NOW!" Remus saw Cass' lips twitch slightly in something between amusement and horror. Oh yes, a wonderful customer indeed!
"Well now, little girl," she gushed patronizingly, bending down to Murgatroyd's level, "I think we may have just the doggie you're looking for." To her father she said in normal tones, "You know, having a dog is a very healthy and normal thing for children. Many leading psychologists agree that owning a pet teaches responsibility and consideration. I think a dog may be just what your daughter needs."
Cass flashed him a dazzling smile for good measure and proceeded to ignore him, turning back to the girl. "Come on, honey," she cooed, beginning to lead her toward the enormous hallway of cages. "I know exactly what you need. Right now we have a beeoootiful black dog who absolutely loves children, especially nice little girls like you!" Murgatroyd beamed up at her, displaying several gaps in her teeth. The father groaned softly, but neither Cass nor Murgatroyd seemed to notice. With another sugarcoated smile, Cass unlocked the door with a flourish and all three went in.
Remus remained under the table, frozen in horror. How could this be happening? This must be a bad dream, he decided firmly. This was not happening. Sirius was not about to be adopted by this...this...this spawn of Voldemort. [I am strong, self-confident, and independent. I am...I am...Oh, darn.] He gave up his attempt at optimism and collapsed into self-pity and misery.
"Well, there you are," Cass proclaimed loudly, emerging from the room with Murgatroyd and slave in tow. "Now you just take good care of him and feed and walk him every day and you two will be best friends in no time at all!" Murgatroyd's father, who had gone rather pale, forked over a handful of Muggle money and Cass handed a leash to Murgatroyd, who smiled sweetly, said, "Thank you, Daddy," and bent to give Sirius a hug. Remus couldn't bear any more and turned away, trying to restrain his urge to kill.
When he worked up the nerve to turn back around, Sirius' captors were disappearing down the hallway, Cass following and still talking a mile a minute, no doubt encouraging them to recommend her establishment to anyone they knew who was interested in getting a pet and wishing Murgatroyd good luck at the dog show. Remus swallowed hard at the thought, horrible images coming unbidden to his mind. He had a feeling that very soon he would get the answer to the question "How could things possibly get worse?"
Waiting until he was sure neither Cass nor her customers could see him, Remus slowly crawled out from underneath the table and stood up, doing his best to ignore the twinges of pain from fresh bruises. This was no time for self-pity! He had to rescue Sirius before he blew his cover—or worse, was actually forced to enter this dog show. With this terrible prospect in mind, he very carefully crept down the hallway and out the door, looking around to make sure nobody had spotted him.
As he caught sight of a white stretch limo—presumably belonging to Murgatroyd's family—pulling out of the parking lot and began wearily to jog after it, Remus vowed silently, [Sirius, I'm gonna rescue you if it's the last thing I do.] It sounded eerily prophetic.
A/N: I told you they'd get out of the pound! Like I said, I know how it's going to end, but I'm not sure what's going to happen in between now and then. I can promise you, though, that both of them will survive relatively unharmed. Good news: I actually got some help on my quest for abbreviations and terms. I should have known MST stands for Mystery Science Theater, I love that show! I also know now that YAOI and YURI are basically the same thing as slash, but could someone give me what they actually stand for? And I need someone to verify that MPREG stands for male pregnancy. But enough of that. Rules for reviewing: Please, please, please do not mention anything important from OotP! If you want to talk about it that badly, e-mail me or something. I know how it feels to get a Harry Potter book a month later than everyone else, so please be considerate! Coming Soon: Chapter Eight: There's No Business Like Show Business.