A/N: I just thought this had to be written, it was exploding in my mind. This is my first fic and one-shot, treat it well please! All thoughts are in italics.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, his world and all the characters in it, do not in any way belong to me. If they did, I would be a very happy and rich girl. Since they don't, I'm not rich, but still fairly happy. Don't worry about me, I'm all right.
Harry Potter was sitting on a wooden bench in the playground on Wisteria Walk. He looked around; there he saw two boys playing with their father and someone throwing a green Frisbee to his dog, waiting at the other side of the park. The sixteen year-old sighed. His fifth and sixth years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had both ended on a sore note: the deaths of two people very close to his heart. Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, and the boy's headmaster and mentor Albus Dumbledore, had both left this world.
Harry did not notice the tear creeping slowly down his cheek at his saddening thoughts.
Right when I start to get into some kind of security…some type of family, they're taken away! First my parents…I didn't even get to know them. Then Sirius; then Professor Dumbledore! It's not fair… not fair at all.
But it's not my fault! No. I'm not responsible for their deaths. Voldemort, it's all his fault. Everything is his fault.
Harry was slightly comforted by this phrase that he began to chant in his mind. All the guilt he had ever felt about these deaths was now slowly slipping away, and the teenage wizard's mind turned to other things.
A letter had come a few days ago, from Harry's best friends Ron and Hermione. In it, they asked him to come to the Burrow, Ron's home, right away. They knew about the mutual hate that Harry and his guardians felt for one another. However, Harry was going to milk this stay for all it was worth; he wanted to keep the Dursleys' life as "freakish" as he could for as long as possible. Then he would never have to set his eyes on them again. No, the boy wizard replied that he would only leave Privet Drive a week before Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's wedding.
All of a sudden, Harry glimpsed movement in the bushes out of the corner of his eye. He tried to get a better view without making himself too conspicuous. Turning to the side just a bit, he kept his line of sight right near the suspicious hydrangea bushes. Harry thought he saw eyes peering at him from inside the plant. The boy couldn't resist; his bright emerald eyes locked on the unknown pair hidden behind the leaves. Immediately, he was startled as he saw two very familiar grey eyes staring back at him.
"Sirius…" Harry whispered to himself, then shook his head as if clearing his head of all his hopes, all his dreams. It just couldn't be his late godfather he was staring at. That would break the laws of both magic and science; no one could possibly come back to the world of the living after being dead for an entire year.
Curiosity killed the cat, Harry knew. But he needed to know if it was Sirius in that bush. The teen hesitantly removed his eyes from the grey pair to look around for a twig or some other long stick. That would surely clear up if this was just an ordinary animal.
Harry made a noise of annoyance; there were no sticks in the entire park! Harry then sighed as he began to reach slowly into his pocket. There it was: that smooth, wooden handle. The wizard pulled out his wand, though the back of his mind was screaming in protest.
Don't be an idiot, Harry! What if it's a Death Eater under there, you'll be handing over your only protection!
Harry ignored the protest and threw his wand towards the hydrangea. As it was still tumbling through the air, a large black dog leaped out of its leafy hiding place and grabbed the wand in its jaws; the wand snapped in half.
He was too preoccupied with a newfound voice in his head to care that his most important magical instrument was now destroyed. The voice seemed familiar to Harry. It said,
Damn it, Sirius, you old dog! Why d'you have to be such a canine? Now he can see you, idiot! And then the voice continued on in some colorful language, which Harry had only ever heard from one source.
"Sirius? Padfoot, is that you?" Harry bent down to the dog and softly asked.
I know that voice!
Voice? I'm not talking Har-…Damn, I blew it again! The dog woofed when the voice halted.
Yeah, Harry. It's me, your dear old dog of a godfather.
"How are you… here? I want to hear everything," Harry said firmly to the large canine, now sitting before him, tail wagging and tongue lolling.
As long as you tell me everything about this past year as well. But not here, I have no doubt that some Muggle will notice the crazy teenager talking to a dog and call the… polies. Whatever they call Muggle Aurors.
"Police, Padfoot."
Whatever! Close enough.
"I'll walk you home. I'm sure that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon will just love you." And Harry laughed, like he had not laughed for a long while. He may have lost his wand, but he gained something much more wonderful in return.
What a fair trade.
A/N: Hope you liked! Review please, I want to feel the review love. If you didn't like, review anyway. Be aware that I know this could probably never happen in canon, and I left the story of what happened to Sirius for another time. Perhaps another one-shot, you ask? Let me know! If you have any specific questions, you can go to my yahoo group: the URL is on my profile.
Thanks for reading, now click that little purplish box. Cough cough :nudge: