Mundungus Fletcher

After seeing who was next up on the schedule, Sirius couldn't help but think that today's walk might be worse than Saturday's. Whatever Dung was planning on, Sirius was sure he wouldn't enjoy it.

At worst, he'd end up traded to a Muggle circus in exchange for a two-headed cow and a bag of peanuts. At best, Dung wouldn't show up.

That would be fine. Hagrid had returned his motorbike on Sunday and Sirius had started tuning it up. He knew he couldn't ride it, but maybe Harry would like to take it out for a bit. Working on the bike gave him something to do, at least.

The more he thought about it, the more Sirius hoped Mundungus would bail on him. He was probably busy with some act of questionable legality anyway.

Sirius was about to head upstairs to work on his bike when, much to his chagrin, Mundungus arrived.

"Morning, Sirius."

Sirius sighed. "Morning, Dung."

"I have some errands to run. You mind coming along?"

"I guess not."

Sirius shifted and consented to be led downtown. He mostly ignored Dung as they walked. They weather was warm and Padfoot was enjoying the muddy smell of spring just around the corner. He didn't realize they weren't heading to Regent's Park until they walked past St. Mungo's.

Padfoot looked up at Dung quizzically, hoping this would prompt an explanation, but he was ignoring Padfoot as effectively as he had been ignoring Dung.

Padfoot kept following, growing curiouser and curiouser, until he saw the Leaky Cauldron coming into view. Then he started to panic.

It was one thing to be wandering around Regent's Park. The park was full of Muggles. None of them would have known who he was even if he was in human form; they wouldn't know it was possible for a person to be an Animagus; it was safe.

It was another thing entirely to be wandering around Diagon Alley, where there would be people who knew him. There would be people who knew him personally, knew he could become a dog, and knew what that dog looked like.

Padfoot pulled back on the collar. He tried to resist being dragged through the Leaky Cauldron, where Tom the barman gave him the same look Fang had given him all of Saturday. He tried to drag Dung back out of the bar and onto the Muggle street, but Dung was stronger than he looked.

"Come on, you mutt!"

Padfoot cringed. At least he hadn't called him Sirius. He'd be done in for sure if Dung let slip his name.

Once they were on Diagon Alley, Padfoot slunk down and tried to look as inconspicuous as a 150 pound dog possibly could. He hid behind Dung's legs and looked at the ground, hoping that no one was looking at them.

"What is wrong with you?" Dung asked.

Padfoot tried to communicate with him telepathically that taking him down Diagon Alley was the stupidest idea ever anyone had ever heard of. He tried to say via eye contact alone that he would like very much to go back to Grimmauld Place and that being trapped in his childhood home was unequivocally preferential to being locked in Azkaban.

Mundungus, however, continued to drag Padfoot down Diagon Alley, as if the question was meant to be rhetorical. He dragged him onto Knockturn Alley, at which point Padfoot felt like he was going to start hyperventilating. (He had never hyperventilated before in his life.)

Padfoot glanced around, eyes darting between people, making sure he didn't recognize anyone who would recognize him. If this was what Mad-Eye felt like all the time, no wonder he was always angry.

Suddenly, Padfoot realized that Mundungus wasn't with him anymore. Had he just left him? Was he about to be ambushed? Mundungus would sell him out in a heartbeat if the price was right.

Then he noticed he was tied to a lamppost outside of an unsavory-looking shop with a window full of shrunken heads. Mundungus was inside talking to some equally unsavory-looking shopkeepers.

Padfoot sat down next to the lamppost. After what felt like several hours, panicking started to get boring. He laid down on the pavement and put his head on his front paws. He started reciting as many verses of The Founders' Favorite Tales as he could remember.

When he ran out of epic poem, he began to wonder what Mundungus was still doing in there. Padfoot was getting hungry. It had to be close to noon.

He then began to devise ways to untie himself. He backed around the lamppost until he ran out of lead and then tried to pull his head out of the collar, but either his head was too big or the collar was too small or it had an Anti-Escaping Charm on it.

He tried to untie the lead with his paws, but that worked about as well as trying to nail pumpkin juice to a tree.

He tried to chew through the lead, but it tasted really bad.

Padfoot laid back down. He counted stones in the road, made a mental list of things he needed to do at the house, thought about how he would word the indignant letter he was going to write to Dumbledore when he got home. His eyes began to flutter closed and then he snapped them open again.

Padfoot had never fallen asleep as a dog. He didn't know if he would stay that way while unconscious or if he would spontaneously go back to being human. It was theoretically possible for them to finish this excursion without anyone recognizing him as a dog, but if suddenly there was a sleeping Sirius Black tied to a lamppost on Knockturn Alley, someone was bound to notice.

Before Padfoot could fully start to panic again, Mundungus came out of the shop. Padfoot growled at him low in the back of his throat.

"You ready to go home, are you?" Mundungus asked.

Padfoot glared at him. Dung untied him and led him back through Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron, where Padfoot tried to shrink out of sight.

Once back on the Muggle streets, Padfoot walked as fast as he could to try to get them back to Grimmauld Place. He had never suspected that he would actually want to shut himself in that house.

"Oy! Slow down, mate!"

Padfoot refused, making Dung jog behind him.

Once back at the house, inside the front hall, Mundungus reached down to take the collar off. Padfoot nipped at his hand.

"Hey!"

Padfoot bared his teeth again.

"You wouldn't dare."

Mundungus reached for the collar again and received a bite just hard enough to draw blood.

"You mangy beast! You bit me!"

Sirius shifted back to himself. "You left me tied to a post!" he yelled, ripping the collar off.

"I had business to take care of."

"I could have been caught!"

"But you weren't, were you?"

Sirius had an idea. He ran up the stairs.

"Oy! You won't tell Mad-Eye, will you?"

"Dung, I will be telling Mad-Eye, and Dumbledore, and probably everyone else. But before that..."

Sirius knew that this was going to make a huge mess. Molly would probably give him an earful when she saw the house. He opened the door to Buckbeak's room.

"Come on, boy," he whispered. Buckbeak followed Sirius to the top of the stairs.

"Sirius! Don't tell Mad-Eye!"

"Mad-Eye is the least of your worries!"

Mundungus noticed the hippogriff standing at the top of the stairs. His eyes got wide.

"You're not going to set that monster on me, are you?"

Buckbeak screeched.

"I don't think he liked that monster comment, Dung."

Buckbeak dove down the stairs at Mundungus, who stumbled back into the door. Buckbeak reared up and Mundungus disapparated.

Sirius hurried down the stairs to calm his temperamental pet.

"Whoa! Whoa! Good boy. You chased that prat away, didn't you? Good job. Good boy."

He pet Buckbeak's head. Buckbeak calmed down and nuzzled Sirius in the chest.

Sirius sighed. "I wish you could come outside, too."