Padfoot?
by
Padfootz-luvr
A/N: To those who have beared with me throughout the years, I thank you, and I apologize profusely. To those just joining us: Welcome! This story has been a big, fat, work-in-progress for almost three years now, and I almost abandoned it. ALMOST. Then I sat down, re-read what I had written, and, before I knew it, I made the conscious decision to correct all grammatical and punctuation errors, and to add to it a bit, give it more dimension and depth. So now here we are, reader and author, ready to embark on a new, perilous journey. This time, I primise to not abandon the wheel of the ship.
Disclaimer: :le sigh: I don't own Harry Potter or anythign else you recognize, blah, blah, blah, etc.
Chapter Three:
The Years Fly By
"Take me for what I am
Who I was meant to be..."-RENT, the musical
"Up! Get up! Now!" Aunt Petunia's familiar screech penetrated the rough sanctuary that was Harry's "room", if one could call a little space under the stairs a room. The eleven-year-old boy sat up from his makeshift pillow, which also happened to be his dog Padfoot.
"Up!"
Harry sat up, stifling a groan that he knew would only irritate his aunt. He'd been having a quite pleasant dream about a giant, a flying motorcycle, and someone... in his grogginess, Harry couldn't place a face with a name, but he had seemed intensely familiar.
"Are you up yet?" came another impatient squawk from Mrs. Dursley.
"Nearly," Harry called back, dressing quickly. As Harry opened the door and sunlight from the front windows streamed in, Padfoot opened one slate grey eye, yawning. Harry always wondered about Padfoot's odd, pale eyes...he had never seen a dog with eyes any color other than brown, or the occasional blue in certain breeds.
Shaking his head of messy black hair, Harry put the thought at the back of his mind and called to his only companion and friend: "Come on, Padfoot."
The huge, grim-like dog followed Harry into the kitchen, where his aunt and uncle already began ordering him about. He was to make breakfast for his cousin Dudley's eleventh birthday.
Trying to tune Dudley's complaints about the number of presents he received this year versus last year, Harry hid his surprise that the obese child could count at all.
Harry went about his normal routine, serving everyone else before sitting down himself, then graciously accepting his small amount of food. During breakfast Harry managed to slip Padfoot a few pieces of bacon out of his own meager portions.
Padfoot always felt bad about this, but whenever he tried to refuse, Harry wouldn't take the food back.
Just as another petty argument broke out between Vernon and his son, the phone rang. No doubt hoping it was another juicy piece of gossip about those new neighbors across the street, Petunia went off to answer it.
Moments later she came back, Her face pinched in displeasure. Vernon and Dudley immediately noticed this and looked at her questioningly.
"That was Mrs. Figg," she answered the unasked question. "She can't watch him or the mutt," she finished, glaring at both the latter and the former in turn as though they had something to do with it. Padfoot bristled angrily at this but kept quiet. After all, what could he do? The most was bite one of them, but he knew for a fact that the second he attacked a Dursley he would eb sent to the pound, without a way to keep Harry safe.
Harry suggested that he just stay home with Padfoot, but the Dursleys would hear none of it, saying that the two would probably blow the house up. Only if we absolutely couldn't help ourselves, Sirius thought mischievously.
"We'll leave the dog at home, then," Vernon concluded. Sirius sighed, putting his head on his paws. At least while they were gone he could resume his human form...it would be the first time in a month, and he couldn't wait to stretch his limbs, maybe take a decent shower.
Once he was sure they had gone, Padfoot turned back into Sirius, hurrying to the kitchen to eat some normal human food. Afterward he carried out with his plans for taking a shower, then lay down on the couch, and closed his eyes to rest. He relished in times like these, where he could be in his human form. The only thing that would be better is if Harry knew about his true form, and they could live somewhere, far, far from the Dursleys.
"Oh well," Sirius sighed out loud, his voice scratchy from being without use for so long. "Someday..."
Suddenly there was a screech in the driveway, then the sound of a car door slamming, soon followed by the pounding of feet stomping into the house.
With a quiet curse Sirius transformed back into Padfoot, padding softly to the foyer to watch the spectacle curiously.
Vernon yelling angrily about snakes and 'funny business'. Unfortunately for the large dog on the floor, Vernon's warpath happened to plow right through where Padfoot was laying. With a cross between a growl and a curse, Vernon furiously threw (or, rather, pushed) Padfoot into the cupboard, lockign Harry in there as well. Harry, who regarded Padfoot as his only friend, confided in him the story.
"It was weird, like magic. I talked to the snake, and it understood, and then it talked and I understood," Harry explained quietly, avoiding the Dursley's wrath once more. He turned his bespectacled emerald gaze onto his dog's, and was almost frightened by the appraising emotion that he saw there. Then, like a flash, it was gone and the dog's shaggy head was comfortingly on Harry's knee once more.
A/N: Love it? Hate it? Somewhere in between? Let me know! From suggestions to squees to flames, I don't care! I just want to hear your opinion!