A/N: Alright, so I know it's been a while since the last update, but here finally is the last chapter. Originally, I had planned on one more chapter after this, but ultimately decided that would be stretching it out too much. Anyway, I'm happy both with where I chose to end this story and how it all turned out; it sure was fun to write. I hope you enjoy the conclusion!

Chapter 3

The hot water cascading down on Harry served as a welcome relief from the stress that had built up even more during his and Fang's trek up to the castle. Before stepping into the shower of the Prefects' bathroom, which had been completely empty upon arrival, Harry had secured Fang's leash to a pole in the wall nearby and hung his clean change of clothes upon a second pole that was stationed a bit higher up on the same wall. That left Fang with nothing to occupy himself with while Harry cleaned off in the shower, but Harry wasn't too concerned about what Fang could or could not do while he waited, especially after all the grief Hagrid's dog had caused him already, in the span of less than twenty-four hours, no less.

Harry stood in the shower with the palms of his hands pressed against the tiled inner wall, all of the soap washed away from his body, but he wasn't ready yet to step out; the water was still too soothing, and the effect almost made Harry want to drift off to sleep again. Although, part of his hesitation was a slight reluctance to go out and have to deal with the surprisingly troubling Fang again.

Come off it, Harry! scolded his inner voice. He's just a dog. Now, you're going to get out of this shower, get dressed, get Ron and Hermione to help you find your wand and take back control of the situation!

That quick pep talk was enough to make Harry turn off the running water and reach up to his right, where the towel he'd slung over the curtain pole of the shower was waiting. It took mere moments fir Harry to dry off his upper half, after which he replaced his glasses on his face and then wrapped the light green piece of fabric around his waist, patting and rubbing tight across his legs to absorb the moisture there. Harry ripped back the curtain with a renewed sense of confidence, but that was immediately vanquished when his eyes fell upon the sight awaiting him on the other side.

Apparently, he had underestimated Fang, because his fresh set of clothes, which Harry had been so sure was out of the dog's reach, now lay in torn tatters at Fang's feet. Harry's shirt was practically a collection of ribbons now while his pants were literally torn completely down the middle, each pant leg its own entity. The socks were nowhere to be seen at all, leaving Harry to assume that Fang had simply gobbled those up altogether. The only article of clothing that had remained intact was Harry's pair of underwear, and he didn't know whether to feel relieved that was still something left for him to wear or acknowledge the irony of it.

Harry shot Fang a withering glare. "Thanks for that," he remarked in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

Fang regarded his caretaker with a relatively impassive face, as if him ruining Harry's clothes was something that had been expected of him.

All Harry could do was stand there, his temper slowly rising by the second, as he considered his options. He could either risk going up to the Gryffindor Common Room wearing that clean pair of underwear with only his robe to cover himself, and risk running into a few students and maybe even professors along the way, or he could simply hightail it back down to Hagrid's hut as fast as possible. Both options involved the goal of a clean set of clothes, but some short deliberation made Harry conclude the hut was the shortest distance away. Once properly dressed, he would come back to the castle to enlist the aid of Ron and Hermione to reclaim his wand from somewhere in Hagrid's yard.

"It'll be the crate for you when we get back," Harry curtly informed Fang as he started slipping on his underwear. Fang kept up his innocent demeanor by giving a brief whimper and tilting his head to the right.

Harry spent a few minutes tightly buttoning his robe around himself, making sure no indication of what lay underneath was visible, and stuffed his ruined set of clothes back in the bag he'd brought them up there in. He untied Fang's leash and trudged the two of them over to the bathroom door, which Harry unlocked and peeked through to see if there was anybody in the hallway; there was not a soul. Breathing a quick sigh of relief, Harry opened the door all the way and ushered Fang alongside him, falling into a very quickened pace towards the archway that led out onto the grounds.

After he and Fang had covered a bit of grassy distance and before they reached a slight decline, Harry paused a moment to catch his breath. He realized then just how fast he'd been walking. Harry relinquished his grip on Fang's leash as he closed his eyes to let the cool early morning breeze wash over him; all he needed was just another few quiet moments to regain his calm.

With his eyes shut, though, Harry was unable to notice Fang spot a squirrel close by and take an immediate interest in said animal. The squirrel was scrounging around in the grass for any traces of nuts, but was coming up empty. The closer it came to where Harry was currently standing, the tenser Fang got. The two creatures remained still for a few more moments, the squirrel focused more on its hunt while Fang wouldn't let the newly-arrived rodent out of his sight. The first of them to make any movement was the squirrel, who began circling around Harry, who was none the wiser about the event playing out right there in front of him. Fang naturally had to follow the squirrel, and the two quickly became engaged in a slight chase of sorts.

Fang's limp leash followed in his wake, and his proximity to Harry was so close that the leash was easily able to wrap itself around Harry's ankles, with Harry still unaware of what was going on. Fang and the squirrel circled around Harry a total of six times, which ensured that the leash was wrapped nice and tight around the ankles of the teenage wizard, and it was that very tightness that made Harry open his eyes again. By then, the squirrel had abandoned its ring around the posey routine and was scampering away down the decline that lead down to Hagrid's hut.

"What in the bloody ...?" Harry regarded his tied-up ankles in confusion and then looked at Fang. "What's with you this weekend? Are you always like this around Hagrid?"

Harry bent down to untangle the leash from himself, but he was too late in taking the initiative. Before Harry's hands could even touch the leash, Fang had taken off in pursuit of the squirrel, barking loudly the instant he sprang into motion.

Harry felt like a cartoon character from those television shows Dudley used to watch, simply waiting in that instant for his inevitable moment of slapstick-style humiliation as his eyes became wide in defeated anticipation. He helplessly watched as the length of leash between him and Fang quickly tightened until the momentum finally pulled Harry forward with a great lurch. Harry's legs were yanked out from underneath him and dragged forward, causing him to briefly fly through the air with an, "Aaaaaaaaah!" before being plopped sideways in the grass and rolled down the small hill in the wake of Fang.

The momentum Harry gained during his little "trip" increased with each passing second, and he could feel every leaf and twig he passed over on his way down. The twigs especially stood out because they pricked slightly against his skin every time he rolled over one. Harry also felt patches of dirt rubbing off on both his robes and bits of bare skin, namely his face. He just took comfort in the fact that there were no big rocks anywhere in his path.

By the time he finally came to a stop, right by the rotting remnants of the ruined pumpkin from yesterday no less, Harry was a dizzy, dirtied mess and had to stay on the ground for a few moments in order to recapture his bearings. Flecks of dirt dotted his glasses, slightly obscuring his vision, but not so much that he couldn't see ahead of him. Once he felt good enough to sit up, he did so and was met with the sight of Fang sitting before him, regarding Harry with that cocked head Harry was now starting to find both annoying and mocking.

Harry grunted and briefly shook his head to help clear it. Next, he went about untying Fang's leash from around his ankles, all the while wishing he had his wand back. He scrambled to his feet once he was free, taking a moment to steady himself after a quick bout of dizziness overcame him.

"That does it!" Harry declared. "I don't care whether you get lonely or not, it's the crate for you! And you'll stay there while I go back up to the castle, take another shower, not have to worry about my change of clothes getting ripped to pieces in the process and get Ron and Hermione to come help me dig up my wand that you so graciously hid somewhere around here. It hasn't even been a full twenty-four hours, and already I'm wishing for Hagrid to come back! Maybe time in your crate is just what you need to calm the bloody hell down!"

The outburst was enough to make Fang, an intimidating presence in his own right, quiver just a bit and also whimper while he rested his head between his front legs.

Harry felt no sympathy or regret, however, so he took a firm handful of Fang's leash and led him back inside the hut, where he wasted no time in placing the overactive and troublemaking hound inside his small cage. Fang kept up his wounded demeanor once he'd been shut inside, but still, Harry showed no remorse. He was simply glad to have some time to himself for now, unencumbered by his four-legged problem for the weekend.

"He's just a dog, mate," Ron said in slight incredulity as he, Hermione and Harry stood at the foot of the handful of stairs leading into Hagrid's hut. The front door was wide open, offering to Harry a clear view of Fang still in his cage from his current vantage point. Fang lay with his head on his front paws, looking deflated at having to be confined.

"You spend some time alone with him, then," Harry fired back. "See all the chaos he causes in just thirty minutes. I bet you'd be singing a different tune then."

The trio had just finished unearthing and replacing the small mountains of dirt dotted about Hagrid's lawn, successfully finding and returning Harry's wand to its owner. Ron and Hermione had done nearly all of the work themselves with simple flicks of their own wands, leaving Harry to mainly stand by the side with folded arms while he waited. Now, Harry gripped his dirt-covered wand tightly in his right hand.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Harry, if Fang is causing you so much trouble, then why not send an owl to Hagrid asking for some tips on how to rein him in? Better yet, Ron and I would be more than happy to lend you a hand until Hagrid comes back, if you think it's necessary."

Midway through Hermione's offer, Ron made a noise as if to silence her, but it didn't work. It only served to make Hermione glare at him as if Ron had offended her.

"As much as Ron would obviously enjoy doing that," Harry replied sarcastically, "I just think what I've been lacking so far is a firm hand. I figure as long as I show that, then Fang should be more manageable for the rest of the weekend." He glanced back inside the hut at Fang before adding, "Besides, if I can't handle just a dog, then what does that say about me?"

"So ... does that mean you don't need Hermione and I as a safety net?" Ron asked pointedly.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the offer, but if I intend to be an Auror one day, then I'd rather not have a failed weekend taking care of a dog hanging over my head."

"That's a good attitude to have, Harry," Hermione said with a warm smile. "I've always believed there's not a problem in the world that can't be solved as long as you put your mind to it."

"Oh, really? We had no idea!" Ron scoffed with a roll of his eyes, eliciting a scowl from Hermione.

"And on that lovely note, we'll leave you to it, Harry, and see you once Hagrid returns. Good luck!" Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and half-pulled him away back to the castle.

"Oy! Let go of me, woman!"

The verbal exchange made Harry reflexively grin as he stepped back into the hut, shutting the door behind him. He kept his wand dangling in his hand as he sighed deeply and regarded the area around him.

The bed was unmade, dog food was still strewn across the floor and the place just looked a downright mess. Fang had perked up slightly upon noticing Harry coming inside, but Harry ignored the canine. Instead, he raised his wand and swept it across the room, causing the bedsheets to slide up over the pillow and straighten themselves out while the overturned bag of dog food righted itself and levitated up to rest on top of the kitchen counter; what had spilled all over the floor vanished into nothingness.

With the hut now spotless and everything returned to a state of stasis, Harry felt he could finally breathe in relief. He walked over to the dining table and flopped himself gratefully into a chair, keen to simply relax. But before he could get fully situated, something on the table caught his eye.

That was where he'd left Hagrid's to-do list concerning Fang for the weekend, and there was one entry which was underlined that stood out. Harry read Hagrid's scrawled handwriting, which said, "Give Fang a bath. He can smell up a storm if not."

Just when I thought I could have a few moments of peace and quiet, Harry thought exasperatedly to himself.

He looked over at Fang, now sitting up as straight as the confines of his cage would allow, and shook his head. "Well, we wouldn't want you smelling bad now, would we?"

Fang barked as if to say, "No!"

The metal tub which Hagrid normally used to bathe Fang turned out to be sitting outside at the back of the hut, requiring Harry to use his wand to float it inside after clearing a space for it. He used a spell to fill the tub with water and rolled up his sleeves as he retrieved the required bathing items from a nearby shelf. The next step was to get Fang in the water, and the dog did so without much effort, but also with a decent-sized splash that got on the floor and Harry slightly.

That wasn't the only splash that occurred, however.

Fang turned out to be a rather uncooperative bathing subject. He moved furiously about in the tub, doing his best to try and avoid Harry, who had a soapy scrub and couldn't seem to use it for more than three seconds at a time. Harry had soap suds covering his arms and staining his shirt, and he was quickly becoming exhausted.

"Is there a particular way Hagrid cleans you or something?" he asked in annoyance. "Or are you just opposed to baths in general?"

He attempted to come at Fang once more with the scrub, but Fang hurriedly moved to the opposite side of the tub.

Harry grunted. "I'm really not in the mood for games, okay? All I want is to get you clean." After thinking for a moment, he adopted an enticing tone of voice. "If you be good and let me do this, then I'll give you a treat! How does that sound?"

Fang sat calmly in the water, seemingly accepting of the proposition, but Harry decided to creep carefully towards him all the same. It wasn't so much sneaking up on Fang, because the dog stared at Harry all the while as he slowly got closer and closer, which led Harry to assume that Fang was perfectly alright with his babysitter's intentions. It wasn't until the very last minute, however, when Harry discovered just how wrong he'd been.

He figured that acting as fast as he could would prove beneficial, but it turned out to only make matters worse. Harry lunged at Fang in an attempt to restrain him while he scrubbed, however, Fang jumped out of the tub in the blink of an eye. This left Harry to go plunging face-first into the soapy water, his front half submerged while his lower half dangled over the side. The tub was deep enough that Harry's legs were left slightly dangling in the air as he kicked furiously to help right himself.

A trail of water had followed behind Fang when he leaped out of the tub, and combined with what had splashed over the side when Harry plopped into the tub, this left the floor of the hut a dangerously soapy and slippery area. Fang came up behind Harry right as the teenage wizard managed to seesaw himself to fresh air again, his top half soaked to the skin. While Harry coughed and sputtered, he failed to notice that Fang had taken a sudden interest in his still-sticking out butt. Fang regarded the body part of Harry's with curious eyes and was content to just sit there and stare at it for a few moments before he moved in and firmly planted his teeth into it.

"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Harry exclaimed, arching his head back as he shouted out.

Through the pain in his rear, Harry could feel himself being pulled away a few inches from the tub by Fang, but he didn't have the time nor the patience to consider the possibility that Fang was merely trying to help. He started wriggling violently to try and free himself from the hound's grasp, but Fang wasn't relinquishing his grip in the slightest and as a result, Harry heard the sound of tearing fabric behind him. He didn't register the significance of the sound until it was too late and by then, he'd already twisted around in such a way that the momentum combined with Fang tearing the seat of Harry's pants off caused Harry to go tumbling right back into the tub, only this time, his whole body fell in.

Harry lay there in the water for a few dazed moments, too shocked initially at the turn of events to do anything else. As he looked at Fang through water-dotted glasses, though, with Fang's head tilted to the side and the ripped piece of pants still in his mouth, Harry was propelled into action.

He jumped to his feet and hopped his soaked self out of the tub and made to go after Fang, but he forgot about one thing: the floor was now slippery from all of the spilled water. Harry didn't make it very far before he started losing his balance, kicking his feet out desperately beneath him while flailing his arms futilely. A few moments passed as Harry comically attempted to regain his footing, but to no avail. His feet finally gave in to the soapy surface beneath them, causing Harry to fall, land on his back with enough force to make him slide across the floor and right into the open and awaiting cage of Fang's. Harry skidded all the way inside so that his feet collided with the back end of the cage with enough strength to cause the cage door to slam shut and the latch to lock, effectively sealing him inside.

Due to the close quarters, Harry was rather scrunched up inside the cage, but he didn't dwell on that fact. Instead, he immediately struggled against the door to desperately try and free himself.

"Bloody hell!" he snarled. "This cannot be happening!"

The door wouldn't budge.

For a while, Fang regarded the scene with mild interest, but he soon turned away and walked over to the big armchair, hopping up into it, dropping the pants piece in his mouth and curling up contentedly.

A lightbulb clicked on in Harry's head and he instantly moved his hand back to grab his wand ... but his palm closed around only empty air. His wand had no doubt slipped away in the tub, especially with most of his back pockets gone.

Harry sighed deeply and rested his head against the bars of his new and permanent prison until Hagrid showed back up tomorrow. "I hope you're happy," he all but barked at Fang.

From the look on Fang's face, it appeared the dog was quite happy with this new turn of events, and thus rested his head down, ready to enjoy the rest of the weekend.