Chapter Forty-Two: A Dog on the Streets

As the memory ended, Harry pulled out from Hermione's mind.

Hermione's face was pale as a sheet. "I knew everything that was happening, but I did nothing about it," Hermione whispered, her lips trembling.

"Hermione - "

"My parents taught me that people who stand by while others are bullied are no better than the bullies themselves." Hermione swallowed. "And I agree."

"But you didn't stand by! You were five, Hermione! You did what you thought was best!" Hermione's words had caused a coldness to settle within Harry's chest - fear as Hermione seemed to withdraw from him and descend into guilt and despair.

"I did nothing to help you." Hermione was avoiding looking at him.

"You were trying your best, Hermione - "

Shaking, Hermione stood up. "Please take me home, Harry..."

There was a long silence before Harry stood up. "Aurora." As the flames took them away from Harry's manor, he wrapped his arms around Hermione. It was like embracing stone - it would seem that Hermione's guilt would not permit her to accept his comfort. He only held her more tightly.

In front of Hermione's house, he let go.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione choked out before turning to go. She hadn't looked at him once since the memory.

The sight of her back caused Harry's magic to flare up - the same magic that laced his voice when he commanded the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. The words came out before Harry had the chance to think twice about them. "Are you going to run away from me again, Hermione?" While the words came instinctively, they expressed the sentiments of his heart - his fear of losing her to her despair, his desperation to save her, his need for her.

His words produced the desired effect. Hermione froze. "What?"

"Are you going to run away from me again?" Harry repeated.

"I wasn't running from you, Harry!" Hermione said, wringing her hands.

"Why didn't you tell me back then what you saw? What your plan was? Instead of leaving me without a word?"

Hermione was quiet. Then very tentatively, finally, she looked up. Harry had never seen her look so fragile - as though a single wrong word would shatter her. "I don't understand."

"My only friend. One I was willing to be punished for. My only friend left me without a word - ran away from me rather than trusted me with her thoughts. Valued a solution over our relationship, over us."

Hermione hadn't noticed it before, wrapped up in her thoughts as she was, but Harry's gaze was filled with desire for her. It was intense enough to make her momentarily forget her guilt.

"Please don't leave me again."

Hermione regrouped her thoughts. "I just need a moment to myself. These memories... I need time to process them..."

"Guilt and regret don't just go away over time. Allowing yourself to drown in them isn't what you need."

"Then what do I need?"

Harry didn't hesitate. "You need me."

Hermione looked away.

"You're so absorbed in your regret right now that all you want to do is run and hide. From me. You don't want to accept what I'm trying to tell you, so you'd rather run." Harry's words hurt in their accuracy. "Instead of trusting me. I don't want your guilt. I want you."

Hermione couldn't stop the tears from falling.

"Don't value punishing yourself over our relationship. I don't want to lose you again."

Hermione forced herself to look at him again. The desperation in his eyes left her in wonder - wonder at what he saw in her and why he wanted her so badly. Why was it so difficult to accept what he was trying to tell her?

She had failed him in the worst way imaginable. After learning of Harry's past, Hermione had wished she had had the chance to help him. And now, she learned that she did - and she blew it.

"Why do you still want me, Harry?" she murmured. "I failed you in the worst way."

"But not in the way I care most about! Or even at all for that matter. I care that you were willing to become friends with some oddball in oversized rags! And defended him in front of everyone!" Harry gestured at her house, where he knew Crookshanks probably was. "The same way you took home a cat no one wanted. And defended him even from your friends!"

Hermione tried to hold it in - she really did - but she couldn't. She sobbed into her hands. No one had ever seen so deeply into her character.

"You are incredibly kind!" And with those words, Harry allowed Hermione to see herself through his eyes. "And I love that about you!"

Hermione flung herself into Harry's arms. She would not run from him this time. She would never leave his side again.

"For almost all of my childhood, I thought I was unloved, unwanted. And, Merlin, it hurt. It felt like everywhere I looked, no one saw any value in me. Not my family, not my classmates. And then, in the last few years, I find out that I am so loved that the greatest sacrifices were made for me without me knowing. My parents gave their lives for me as a baby. My dog gave his life for me. My first friend gave years of her life for me."

"I could have told anyone," she whispered - a feeble attempt by her conscience to pass a harsh judgment.

"You want to do the right thing always," Harry said, holding her more tightly. "But is it really fair to judge by results and ignore the effort?"

Hermione closed her eyes. "No, it's not."

...

Mr. Granger opened the door to the sound of knocking. Hermione had told him that they were going to try to figure out what happened years ago - she didn't tell him how they were going to do that, but he allowed it anyway. Seeing them, he asked, "How did it go - ?"

His daughter flung herself into his arms, cutting him off. "You were right, Dad. Harry and I did have a history."

Mr. Granger looked up at Harry, holding onto his daughter tightly, suddenly protective.

"But Harry didn't do anything wrong. I was scared because... because..." She looked back over her shoulder at Harry.

Harry bowed his head in acceptance, leaving the decision to reveal or not to reveal in her hands.

Hermione took a deep breath before a determined look came over her face. "I was scared of the bullies who were bullying him. They knew we were friends."

Harry looked up in surprise and appreciation for her discretion.

Mr. Granger looked back and forth between the two of them. Finally he said, "Would you like to come in for dinner with us, Harry?"

"Is that okay, Sir?"

He considered Harry for a moment before smiling. "I think so." He stepped to the side and motioned Harry inside.

"I hope you like curry!" Mrs. Granger called from the kitchen.

"I love curry, Mrs. Granger."

...

What an eventful summer it was turning out to be.

Harry straightened up from his ironing and looked out into the main shop thoughtfully.

"Be safe!" Madam Malkin was saying to a patron.

"You, too, Madam!" The man shook his head as he left. "Hope the aurors catch Sirius Black soon. Can't even feel safe in my own house! What are walls and wards to a man who can escape Azkaban without a wand?"

"The mass murderer Sirius Black escaped prison," Mr. Granger repeated, frowning at the TV. "They didn't say where."

"That's because he's a wizard and escaped from Azkaban, the wizarding prison," Harry explained.

"Should we be worried? Why is it all over our news?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"He's killed a lot of Muggles."

The Grangers were a very warm family, and Harry had felt very welcomed in their home. Unlike the Weasleys, with only one child, the Granger household was quieter and less chaotic. Harry felt quite at home there - almost as at home as at the shop with its three residents. Small and peaceful, but rich in love and affection.

As Harry was about to return home, Hermione came to the door to see him out.

Harry turned to face her. No anguish could be seen on her face, to his relief.

"Thank you."

Harry smiled. "What are friends for?"

Hurt flashed so quickly over Hermione's face that Harry thought he imagined it. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

Harry stretched tiredly before heading towards the front of the shop. Normally Diagon Alley would be full of wizards and witches bustling around, haggling and gossiping, buying and selling. But now, the streets were relatively sparse. Posters of Sirius Black were posted on every shop, and aurors could be seen every couple blocks.

Madam Malkin sighed. "Sirius Black escaping from Azkaban is not good for business!"

"It's so gloomy," Harry commented. He didn't like it - the fear, the uncertainty...

Madam Malkin shook her head. "Anyway, would you be able to double check the books today? With him on the loose, there's been an increase in requests for owl delivery. Just make sure everyone who ordered sent money with their owl, and that everyone who sent money receives their merchandise."

"Of course, Madam Malkin." Harry pulled out a stool and reached for the stack of parchment forms as well as the accounting books. "People are going to walk around with robes that either show their ankles or trip them down the stairs."

"Who is going to trip down the stairs?"

Harry turned at the familiar voice. "Professor!"

Dumbledore smiled warmly as he entered the shop. "Good afternoon, Madam Malkin, Harry."

"Albus! What brings you here?" Madam Malkin asked.

"Ah, well, I was hoping to speak with both of you. Best if the information be passed on to Noah as well."

Madam Malkin frowned before walking briskly over to the shop door, closing it, and flipping the sign to "CLOSED." "There. Now we have some privacy."

"Thank you." Dumbledore began pacing. "The summer is quickly ending. However, there are still a couple weeks left before Harry boards the Hogwarts Express. During which, while Harry works here, this establishment is a prime target for Sirius Black."

Harry's eyes shifted uneasily over to Madam Malkin.

"How would Sirius Black know where Harry works?" Madam Malkin asked. "Even our patrons don't realize he's Harry Potter. We've been very careful about that!"

"We don't know what he knows and what he doesn't," Dumbledore replied. "However, if he happens to see Harry on the street, he would recognize him immediately."

To Harry's surprise, Madam Malkin's eyes were sad - she clearly knew something he didn't. "Madam Malkin?"

"I see you remember when Sirius Black was sentenced to Azkaban, Madam Malkin."

"Yes, I remember." Madam Malkin gave Harry a sorrowful look. "I think Harry deserves to know."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "You see, Harry, Sirius Black was your parents' Secret Keeper. And your godfather."

Harry blinked. "What?"

Dumbledore looked away. "Unfortunately, in this world, friendship doesn't always run both ways. But that is why Sirius Black would be able to recognize you instantly on the streets. While others would simply assume you're someone else without your scar, Sirius Black would see through that. After all, they were friends from their first day at Hogwarts until that night."

"What do we do, Albus? Should Harry stay home for the rest of the summer?" Madam Malkin asked worriedly.

"No."

Both Dumbledore and Madam Malkin turned to Harry.

"If he wants to seek me out, let him come," Harry said.

There was a silence. Finally, Dumbledore said, "Have you considered that he may not be satisfied with just your life, Harry? That he may take the lives of Madam Malkin and Noah as well?"

"Am I just supposed to block myself off from the rest of society then?" Harry demanded. "I have friends in school. Should I just not be friends with them because Sirius Black might go after them as well? This is my job! I'm not searching him out, but I'm not hiding either. There are aurors everywhere, and I'll take reasonable precautions. But I'm not hiding." Clenching his fists, he added, "Especially not from someone who did what he did."

Dumbledore considered him for a moment before smiling. "I never did say you had to. However, I think that Madam Malkin and Noah should be allowed to voice their opinions on this matter, don't you?"

Harry's cheeks turned red in embarrassment. "I mean... I was only speaking for myself."

Madam Malkin drew herself up to her full height. "Well, I agree with Harry. Life lived in constant fear is no life at all! I will ask Noah about it, but I think he would feel the same."

"Very well," Dumbledore said, accepting their decision. "Just keep up your guard."

...

The rest of the work day was relatively quiet. Other than filling Harry in on details like what happened to Peter Pettigrew, Madam Malkin left Harry to his thoughts, and Harry spent the time working vigorously. Partly to put his angry energy to good use, partly to forget Dumbledore's words. Unfortunately, Harry, in this world, friendship doesn't always run both ways.

After all he and his friends had gone through together, it would be the most dishonorable thing to believe in any possibility of any one of them betraying him in cold blood like Sirius Black did.

But that presented the dilemma. Sirius Black, his parents' friend for years, betrayed them to their deaths. Without any regret. His killing of all those people was proof of that. Dumbledore spoke truth.

And Harry feared that truth. It was one thing to betray someone when one was put under duress - Harry wasn't even sure he could really call that betrayal. It was another thing entirely to betray someone willingly.

Friendship had been Harry's deep desire for so long. The idea that it could end in such tragedy...

He finished tidying up and headed to the back porch of the shop to unload the newly arrived rolls of fabric. As he was working, he saw a large, black, and rather scruffy dog watching him from behind a barrel. He paused. The dog was huge, almost the size of a bear, but pitifully thin. Frowning, he looked around, wondering if it had an owner. He had never seen the dog before. It didn't have a collar though, so it was probably a stray.

Harry felt a dull pang as he was reminded of Riley. In his friend's memory, he had a strong affection for dogs.

Taking pity on it, he transfigured a pin inside his work robes into a bowl and filled it with water. "Here," he offered, putting the bowl in front of the dog. "Where did you come from?"

The dog stared at him before tentatively moving forward to drink.

"You look like you could use some food," Harry commented, studying its form. "Mistle!"

The house elf appeared at his call. "Yes, Master Harry, Sir?"

"Could you get some ground beef or chicken?"

Mistle snapped her fingers, and a bowl of ground beef appeared in front of the dog.

Tail wagging excitedly, the dog eagerly ate up the food presented to it.

Her job done, Mistle disapparated just as Madam Malkin came out to check on Harry.

"Harry dear?"

Harry gestured to the dog. "Do you know whose dog this is, Madam Malkin?"

Madam Malkin frowned. "No, I've never seen this dog around." Seeing Harry's pleading look, she laughed. "He can be a shop dog so long as he's clean and calm."

Harry grinned, his fears and anger momentarily forgotten. "Hear that, boy? You're gonna get a bath." He could have sworn the dog understood him.

An hour later, the dog was settled at the shop. It followed Harry around excitedly but stayed out of the way of his work. Madam Malkin was quite pleased with its manners.

"What should we name him?" Madam Malkin asked as the dog lay down by the front door.

An image of Riley flashed through Harry's mind, and he looked away from the dog. While he loved dogs, naming one felt strange to him. As though he was replacing Riley. "I... don't know."

And Madam Malkin left it be.

...

The evening before Harry was to leave for Hogwarts, he stayed back at Madam Malkin's longer than usual to spend time with the dog before he went.

The dog wasn't as active as Riley was. It simply preferred to lie down wherever Harry was, which suited Harry just fine.

Harry talked to the dog as he filled out some forms for the shop. "Why do you think he betrayed them? I don't understand how he can value friendship so cheaply. Was he unsatisfied with the friendship?" He looked up to see the dog looking at him with mournful eyes. "Yeah, I know - you wouldn't know how a bad friend thinks even if you try. You're man's best friend for a reason."

He reached out to pet the dog. "Dogs are amazing creatures. Life gives you abuse. You don't even have a name. But you're still a good friend." He hummed thoughtfully. Then he laughed. "I'll keep that in mind for Nicolas's ordeal. Dogs... the enduring creature. No matter what life throws at them, they stay true to themselves - unceasingly loyal."

The dog's tail wagged at Harry's laugh.

Harry leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. "I sort of hope Black comes after me. Then I can see my parents' betrayer face-to-face. I want to see the eyes of the man who could throw away years of affection and love for power. Who values so little the lives of his friends that he joins their enemy willingly." He felt the dog shift and turned towards him.

The dog got up and went out the back door, leaving Harry to his thoughts.

...

"What are we going to do this weekend, James?" Sirius asked, bored. "Snivellus? Tunnels? Snivellus? Hidden rooms? Snivellus?"

James chuckled, twirling his wand absentmindedly. "Better be... Snivellus! Although after what we did to him last time, it'll be hard to top that."

"What? Taking off his pants while he's hanging upside down?" Sirius snickered. "Yeah, that is pretty hard to top. If my wand was that small, I'd cry too."

James hummed. "You don't think we went too hard on him, do you?"

Sirius snorted. "Of course not. He called Lily a mudblood, remember?"

James's eyes hardened. "Right."

Suddenly an owl flew into the Great Hall and dropped a letter in front of James.

"What's this? Letter from my parents?" James frowned as he read the letter. "Sorry, Padfoot, our fun will have to be postponed. My parents want me home this weekend - they even asked permission from Dumbledore."

"Why? You got in trouble or something?"

Remus, who had been quiet the entire time they were talking about Snape, was suddenly interested. James never got in trouble - his parents doted on him heavily as he was their only child.

James shook his head. "Nah. Dad gave me a heads up at the beginning of the year that something like this was going to happen. He said something about learning more about my inheritance and the responsibilities that come with it."

Sirius snickered. "Responsibilities? You responsible? Your old man doesn't know you well, does he?"

James punched him in the arm. "I can be responsible! Right, Remus?"

"Well, maybe this will help you become responsible." Remus paused thoughtfully. "What is your inheritance exactly? The manor? The island?"

James's eyes shone excitedly as he leaned in, lowering his voice, "I don't know exactly, but I do know this. There's a power - an ancient magic - that's been in my family for centuries..."

...

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