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Chapter Text

Harry lay in his bed, unable to go to sleep. He stared atop the cupboard, thinking about his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and his annoying cousin, Dudley. The Dursleys seemed like a perfect suburban family: a hardworking husband, a stay-at-home mother and wife, and a sweet and innocent son. There was a problem, however, and that was Harry. First, he looked nothing like them. They all were nice and uptight, with sleek brown hair, baby-blue eyes, fair skin, and charming smiles.

On the other hand, Harry had wild black hair, emerald-green eyes, darker skin, and rarely smiled. He was the family disappointment, the burden taking up space, an embarrassment, and the Durleys made sure he knew that. He was the son of Aunt Petunia's sister and brother-in-law, Lily and James Potter. They were killed in a car accident, and he was told they were drug addicts, alcoholics, whores, and it showed in their son.

His Uncle is beefy, grumpy, and always found something to complain about

"This food is undercooked; redo it!" "What is taking my coffee so long?" "Why can't those people just stay in their country?" "I hate the noise these shoes make when I walk!" "Why is Harry breathing?" His uncle found enjoyment when tormenting Harry. Harry knew that Uncle Vernon hated Aunt Petunia's cooking, so he made Harry at 6 years old cook for his family. Once Harry burned himself, holding Uncle Vernon's coffee pot, and shrieked out of pain, dropping the pot. Vernon got furious after that and forced Harry to make him a new coffee, then allowed Harry to run his burns underwater.

His Aunt Petunia was arguably worse, she was a boy's mum, and Dudley was always her center of attention. He needed to be part of every little thing around him; from being the lead in the school play, playing games, and making Harry's life miserable. Aunt Petunia would do similar things to Vernon. Once hitting him after she heard Harry make fun of Dudley's toys. Petunia would verbally degrade him or humiliate him in public, like the time Harry stole a piece of chicken from Dudley's plate, as he was only given a handful of soggy fries, and they spent15 minutes in there, while Aunt Petunia insulted, shouted, screamed, and humiliated Harry in front of everyone. She would also use him as the butt of her jokes in front of all their stupid friends,

"Doesn't that boy’s hair look like he just fell asleep, if only he stayed like that!" The list goes on, from neglecting to underfeeding him to allowing Dudley to bully him, everything he owned was Dudley's first, and he was barely even a thought, just Dudley's old rags and junk.

Harry and Dudley were the same age, 8 years old, but they did not get along well. Dudley was a spoiled rotten brat and knew it. If Harry had something, Dudley needed it too, if Dudley had something, Harry couldn't have it. Dudley used his large and annoying friends to torment Harry. Chasing him around the schoolyard, throwing food and rocks, breaking off his glasses, and one time, Harry was running from them, and the next second was on the top of the school building. Vernon and Petunia were losing their heads that week, and Harry was miserable. He was barely allowed to leave his cupboard, only for chores, and to be the punching bag for the Dursleys.

"You are weak, Potter," shrieked Dudley, followed by a punch to the gut. He had just failed his Spelling Bee and needed someone to be mad at, "You're too ugly to be liked," followed by a punch to the face.

Harry had no friends, and no living family members who loved him, he was a burden, and an embarrassment to his relatives. There was nothing in this world that was his, not a soul on this earth would be willing to help or care for him. Not the teachers in school who allowed his cousin and his friends to hit him, not the neighbors next door, as the Dursleys made Harry out to be the problem child, not Aunt Petunia's annoying friends, not a soul who could love the weird kid; Harry James Potter. He could scream right now, and nobody would care. His aunt and uncle would probably hit Harry for waking up the neighbors, all the while Dudley laughed, like he usually does. Even if Harry were to cry and scream from being hit, nothing would happen, as he is just a waste of space. Taking up room in the Dursleys house, eating the smallest bit of food, yet it's too much.

Harry is too much, taking up too much space, but even then he isn't enough to be loved, he is just a speck. A speck like the cellar spider walking across his bedsheets. It moved across Harry's small plank-sized bed, taking its long skinny fingers, and moved, finding a place to spin its next web. Harry WAS that small. Just some little bug that needs to be crushed, and swept away, forgotten, never given a second thought. When the Dursleys hear the word "Harry" in the future, they won't even remember the scrawny boy that lived under the stairs, the boy that cooked for them, just the little bug under the stairs, sucking them dry, and waiting to be crushed. He lay in his bed, the crack underneath the small cupboard door flicked on, and he threw the sheets off him.

He heard three people coming down the stairs right on top of him. Two came down, while one kept stomping right underneath him.

"WAKE UP POTTER! WE'RE GOING SHOPPING!" Shouted Dudley, and he ran down the stairs to his mum. As Harry got dressed quickly, someone, likely Vernon, unlocked the cupboard door roughly, and he heard a crack on it.

As Harry got up, Vernon was ready to complain, "What took you so long? Never mind that, get my coffee and breakfast ready."

Harry got out the pans, throwing them on the stove, and getting the ingredients out of the cabins. They all wanted eggs, Petunia wanted a toasted biscuit, and Dudley demanded fruit with whipped cream and two toasted biscuits. They all like their eggs cooked differently; Vernon wanted them burned, with no salt or pepper. Petunia likes her eggs with salt, pepper, a good amount of butter, and olive oil, and barely cooked. Dudley wanted to have eggs with cheese, and the eggs to be medium cooked. He started with the eggs, buttering Petunia's pan, getting Vernon's eggs almost instantly, and sprinkling the salt and pepper onto Petunia's. He grabbed the strawberries and whipped cream from the refrigerator, and prepared it.

"I don't want strawberries, just eggs," Dudley shrieked. "You terrible chief!"

"How dare you put strawberries with my son?" bellowed Uncle Vernon. Harry then went to put the strawberrues and whipped cream away,

When Dudley whined, "But I still want whipped cream."

"You're going to have to pick," said Harry. "Whipped cream or no Whipped cream?"

"Whipped cream on the side."

"Alright." He gave him his eggs and the whipped cream on the side of the plate. He gave Dudley his plate first, as he knew he liked being the center of attention, so being first for breakfast meant less of his whining. That being said, Aunt Petunia was also a huge whiner, so he finished her stupid biscuits and handed them to her. Harry's face started going down, looking rather annoyed after he made breakfast, and got nothing but moans and groans.

"Quit it, boy. I have half the excuse to take my belt and turn your butt red," Uncle Vernon hissed.

He had enough of the Dursleys. He just wants to be in his cupboard and play with his broken and dusty toys. The toys were once Dudley's, but Dudley’s wanted new ones after the first week, so Harry stole them from the bin while the Dursleys weren't looking, and stashed them in his drawer, hiding them underneath his few pairs of sleepwear. It was a dinosaur and a fireman; Harry made the dinosaur protective of the firemen, who lived in fear of Dino World. The other dinosaurs were scary, and they wanted to torture the firefighter, but the dinosaur tried to protect the firefighter from the rest of the dinosaurs and saw the firefighter as his kids. Harry never really knew why, but he also ended up crying by the time he finished playing.

"Alright my Son," said Uncle Vernon. "We're going to the pet store to get a pet of your liking. Petunia, dear, call Ms. Fig-." Aunt Petunia screamed, a blood-chortling scream, as if someone died, even though the only thing that died was Harry's chance to get away to somewhere peaceful and quiet.

"Ms. Figgs is on Vacation. And so is everyone else that babysits Harry." She shouted as if she was going to faint.

"I don't want him to come with us," Dudley faked, whining, knowing that it would force Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to do whatever he wanted them to do.

"There's got to be someone to watch him?" said Uncle Vernon, scanning the phone book for anyone.

"You could just let me stay here, I will have to stay in the cupboard, and you could just lock the door," said Harry, trying to sound casual. That, however, is when he heard Aunt Petunia scream for the second time.

"The lock is broken," she shouted across the house.

"Wait a damn minute," said Uncle Vernon, as if he was putting together a puzzle. "You want to stay home if the lock was broken, then you could have caused havoc to our beautiful house. I will not stand for this. You will come with us. I am so sorry-" Dudley started bursting into fake tears and whined, and Aunt Petunia looked like she was going to be sick.

"Can't we just lock him outside?" questioned Aunt Petunia, she looked nervous, holding and trying to calm down Dudley, who was throwing his plate of food, the whipped cream flying and landing on the walls.

"No, he could just come through the windows, also we can't show this necessary behavior we just give it to the boy. And I checked the phone book, and everyone is on holiday or sick right now. He must come with us," said Uncle Vernon, his face in his hands, like he committed the biggest crime known to man.

Dudley started, "I don't-"

"QUIET," bellowed Uncle Vernon. "You two; get in the car, I want this boy to know who is in charge." He pointed his sausage fingers at Harry. Petunia and Dudley moved out of the way, and into the car, leaving Uncle Vernon and Harry alone.

"If I catch you stepping a toe out of line, or doing anything crazy, I'm locking you in the cupboard beating you every night with a belt for the rest of the summer, maybe even the rest of your life if I feel like it. This event will not happen again and nothing is changing, you will make no noise and pretend like you don't exist because that's how it should have been. Do you understand me, boy?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry said, with as little emotion as possible.

"Excellent," he responded. "Now get in the car. And you will not speak unless spoken to, or if we allow it."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."

Chapter Text

Sirius arose from the cold northern sea, gasping for the chilly air. His whole head now out of water, searching for a piece of land in the pitch of night, he saw a rocky beach. He swam quickly to the shore, while freezing water continued to prickle at his skin. His body was numb to the cold; Sirius felt like he was never going to be out of Azkaban, swimming like a wounded animal, splashing and thrashing through the dense water. Get me out of here, get me out of here, Sirius kept repeating in his mind, as the splashes of water kept splashing into his eyes. His paw reached for the dense water, pushing him back, adrenaline rushing through his veins, and then his paw reached a cold, solid rock.

He pushed himself up, and then the cold water was replaced by a light, gentle breeze of fresh air. Sirius felt his adrenaline fade, and the hour of swimming in freezing water was now taking its toll. His legs dripped with water, and the breeze only made it worse, as his legs had lost all their energy, giving up on him. His body shivered, and he fell onto the rocks with a loud thump. His brain was slowing down by the second, and he just wanted to curl up in a ball and pray this feeling would go away. He gathered whatever energy was left in him and shook his body, water flying everywhere, then falling on his side, trying to get comfortable on the cold, hard rocks. Maybe I’ll just get some sleep first.

Turns out, God has favorites, and it wasn’t him, because human hands started grabbing his fur, followed by Sirius snapping at one of them. Unfortunately, he was too slow, as he felt another hand on his snout, forcibly keeping it shut. Sirius squirmed and shook with all the energy he had left, but he was losing more and more each second, until he closed his eyes, and everything went black.
***
Sirius awoke to soapy hands running down his fur, a lovely lavender shampoo filling his nostrils. After 8 years of no connection and physical touch, a proper bath wasn’t something Sirius was going to take for granted. He soaked up all the attention from the nurses and doctors, who praised him, petted him, and didn't wish for someone to Avada Cadabra him.

If Sirius didn’t know better, he would’ve thought muggles could cast spells, but he knew the reason he enjoyed it so much was because he had nice humans and not death eaters, criminals of the wizarding world, and dementors constantly around you. That being said, he was getting tired of being treated like a dog, mostly because they tried to feed him dog treats, but this is Sirius Orion Black, and he was raised to spite anyone and everything, and he would refuse to eat dog food. At first, he had plans to run away and join Muggle society, or find any living member of the Order of the Phoenix, possibly grab a new wand, but then the TV started playing the news.

“Breaking news: The infamous mass murderer, Sirius Black, has escaped from his jail cell and is currently on the run from police. The Reward for finding him is 1,000 pounds. If you know his whereabouts, please let the authorities know immediately. This is Will Stargaze out.”

Fuck, I didn’t realize I’m wanted in both the Wizarding and Muggle World. Sirius thought to himself. More than ever, he needed to stay hidden. Meaning he’ll need to wait for an opening, and then sneak out. He was placed in his kennel, fortunate not to share it with other dogs, and started to bite and play with the bars, checking if one of them was a little loose.

“Hey!” barked one of the dognappers, with a following crack. “Stop chewing on the bars!” Sirius looked up and saw the dognapper with a whip in his hand. The whimpers of the dogs grew, and they started to back away into their kennels, curling themselves into backs in their corners. Dammit, if only I had a wand. Could stun the guy, and apparate, but I’m a sitting dog without it. Once again, Sirius's muscles relaxed as the dogs stopped whimpering, returning to sleep. The muscles in Sirius’s dog form were getting a little drowsy, and Sirius dropped himself onto the floor of his kennel and closed his eyes.
***

“Sirius,” whispered a voice, but it was too far away to know who it was. Sirius looked down and saw his human body, along with his last pair of clothing he wore before he was imprisoned in Azkaban. He looked around and only saw the void, the endless dark he had been too familiar with throughout his entire life; since childhood in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the countless battles against Death Eaters, and imprisonment in Azkaban. Usually, those times were filled with screams, shouts, and curses flying, but this time, he was met with cold silence. “Sirius,” the voice whispered again.

“I’m coming,” shouts Sirius into the dark.

“Sirius,” The voice whispered again. Sirius followed the voice, praying with all his might that he wasn’t falling for a trap or trick. The walk continued until he was in front of a staircase, the staircase of the potter's house. “Sirius,” the voice whispered with some fear in it, but Sirius knew who the voice in now.

“I’m coming, James,” Sirius belted, throwing his weak, rusty feet on the stairs and rushing up. “Shit,” Sirius cursed as he tripped his left foot on the last stair. He threw his right leg onto and pushed himself up, rushing to the door where James’s voice came from. (Maybe ask for a rewrite)

“SIRIUS!” Shouted James, just as Sirius was inches from the door. He opened the door, and Green Light flew into his face, knocking him to his feet. Sirius got back on his feet and looked into the room.

“NO!” Cried Sirius, seeing James lying on the floor. Sirius' legs started to shake as he got up and walked to James’s lying body, and he gave a broken shout, “No, it’s not real, it cannot be real.” Collapsing beside his fallen friend, grabbing James' face. Staring at his lifeless brown eyes, the cold, corpse-like skin, his messy hair spread on the ground, and his youthful face showing fear, as was his last moment before death. Sirius’s tear dropped from his eyes and onto James' cold skin. His head was buried in James’s neck, wishing he could feel its pulse.

“Sirius.” It was James’s voice, but Sirius was cradling James’s dead body. Sirius looked to his side, only to be met with darkness, but then looked up. James was floating over Sirius, his body opaque, and his hair and clothing swayed, like a breeze passing by.

“J-James,” Sirius stuttered, “Y-You’re not dead, you’re here. Take that see-through potion off and stop floating.” Sirius’s voice was fragile. “You’re not dead! You can’t be!”

“Sirius.” That voice had heard that voice a thousand times. It was the voice when Sirius was doubting a prank James made, or when they fought Death Eaters, and James had a risky plan. Or when James wanted Peter to be the secret keeper and not Sirius. Sirius had trusted him every time; what’s one more? “Take care of him!”

“Wait,” Sirius said, as the room faded into darkness, “Take care of who?” As the room faded into the void, James’s opaque form became seethrough. Sirius realized that it was the end. “I’m not leaving you.” Sirius shouted before the room became black.
***
Sirius awoke, panting hard, looking around to find James, only to be greeted by his dog legs and bars for a door. Most of the dogs are asleep, and no muggles are to be seen in the dog shelter. Sirius started to maul on the bars, nothing. The bars were in firm place, and too small to fit a human hand through, so he couldn’t transform and unlock the keys.

Sirius sat down in his kennel, and pieces of the nightmare started coming back to him, no matter how much Sirius tried to ignore what he had dreamt. What does he mean by he, Sirius thought. He couldn’t tell if it was a nightmare or something else. Besides, James was everything but mysterious and vague. James was everything to Sirius, his partner in crime, pranks, and romance. James was his other half, his brother in another universe. When Sirius thought back, before he met the boy on the train, it just didn’t register to him that he could have gone a day without remembering the mischievous boy. Even though the first eleven years were without him, it didn’t feel correct. James had to have been there, whether it was in spirit, or physically next to him, cheering him on, or working right along next to him.

It just isn’t possible, Sirius thought, remembering James' Lifeless body, lying stone-cold in the living room. His eyes were still, like a statue, and his body was dead as a squished bug. The memory of him running from Filch, after hexing his literal ass with the tickling hex.

“Stupid little brats,” roared Filch, followed by a small laugh because of the tickling hex. “I know it's you, Black, and then I catch you, you’ll never have a full free day for the rest of the year.” Sirius ran, but he was running out of breath. He started to panic when a peck of light caught his eye.

“C’mon, mate,” James quietly laughed, a smirk on his face, a lantern in his hand, and an invisibility cloak wrapped around his back. His left hand gripped the side, ready to wrap it around himself and disappear. “Before he catches you.” Sirius rushed to James' side, and the cloak was thrown over them, disappearing without a trace.
“Where did you go, Black? Even a wizard like you can’t become invisible.” Filch laughed wickedly, walking down the corridor. Unfortunately, James and Sirius were right next to him, invisible, hands on their mouths, and struggling to bury their laughter.

Of course, James wasn’t the only one saving; Sirius saved the other as well in their second year. James had strutted up to Lily Evans and puffed out his chest and stretched out a grin.

“Hey, their Evans,” flirted James, “got something on your mind?”

“It makes no sense,” shouted Lily Evans, actually choosing to acknowledge his existence. “Why did Severus show up late to the courtyard?” Oh, but it did make sense. Snivilus was late because James found out Lily was hanging out with Snape by Sirius's eavesdropping and threw a slippery sludge on Snivilus’s path to the courtyard. Then James ran to the courtyard, got immediately rejected, and ran off with his invisibility cloak wrapped around him to throw fart-smelling beetles at Snivilus.

“He smelled awful too, reminded me of stained milk.” Tragically, James couldn’t stop the wide smirk on his face. “Is there something funny?” Lily asked James, but then she lifted her eyebrow.

“James, when I said that Severus was almost here, you said you had to help Sirius with a new hex he was struggling with in defense against the dark arts, but 10 minutes later, you were in the courtyard again. Was Severus’s lateness your fault?” Accused Lily. James loved Lily’s intelligence and brilliance, but he didn’t realize it would backfire on him.

“W-well, you see Lily. Me and Sirius finished practicing because Sirius got the spell almost immediately,” stuttered James. “And since I’m such an amazing and smart friend, I was able to teach him quickly, and since it was such a lovely day out, I figured we should go outside.” James tried to sound convincing, but wasn’t fooling Lily.

“Yeah, James, I forgot to thank you for that,” Sirius had said, coming out of the bush he was eavesdropping in. “James is an excellent teacher; you should practice with him.” Lily’s eyes were no longer looking accusatory, giving James a thin smile. “Maybe? I’m just glad you’re not harassing Severus.” She then walked away.
“Mate, you’re a lifesaver!” Thanked James.
“Anytime, prongs.”
***

October 31, 1981, was the day he lost his other half. There was no way he could live the rest of his life with James dead. Who would have his back when the world didn’t? Who would he joke and laugh at when the demons surrounded him? James was forced to die alone, in fear, and believing his entire family was now going to die. What if Sirius had been there that night and helped fight Voldemort with James? What if they had moved the potters to a different house that day? What if Sirius was the secret Keeper instead of Peter?

Just thinking about that stupid traitor made Sirius want to rip his cage open and go on a murder spree of every single rat and other gross, nasty rodent he came across. Stupid, cowardly, annoying, useless, worthless Peter, their lifelong friend, betrayed them all because of fear. Sirius would have DIED for James and Lily. He would have suffered through agonizing torture and a slow, painful death for James, Lily, and Peter. James and Lily would have done the same for Peter, but the fact that Peter whimpered like a coward, not fight, not even lying, just giving up the most loyal friends to Voldemort, was what enraged Sirius. Peter’s betrayal of the greatest friend anyone could have, and taking advantage of James' trust in him. His rage over Peter’s betrayal is what led Sirius to hunt him down and finish him off. If Voldemort wasn’t going to do it, then Sirius was going to. Peter, not only ratting out James and Lily, but also framing Sirius, making it seem like Sirius was the backstabber, was what made Sirius laugh, maybe a little too well. Sirius was going to Azkaban, and there was nothing he could do; his best friend was dead, the other a traitor, and… the other, though he was a killer, so what did he have to live for?
***
Sirius and James were no longer those chaotic, destructive pranksters they once were in their formative years. Now, James was in a relationship with Lily Evans and had plans to become an Auror to fight Voldemort.

“Sirius, how are you feeling?” Asked James.

Sirius looked back at him and gave him a confident grin, “A little bit of everything.”

James gave a lighthearted laugh. “Just be glad McGonagall can’t give us detention anymore.” Sirius gave James a louder laugh.

“I am going to miss this place,” he said, remembering all those memories they shared: the laughs, love, hope, and everything in between.

“I’m scared, Sirius, I am really scared!” James gulped. Sirius, under normal circumstances, would’ve teased James, but he saw those shaking hands, and those brown eyes staring, almost like he was looking into the future.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Asked Sirius, giving him a smirk. “We are becoming Aurors. I also have fears.”

“Yeah, but Lily and I were thinking of starting a family early, and what if they try to use our children against us? What if they torture us and kill us? And you, you should also be worried because you haven’t told him, have you-”

“Up buh buh, this is about me,” Sirius interrupted. “And besides, you’ll be fine.”

“But what if I end up thrown into hell?”

“Then I’ll throw myself into hell for you!”

***
That was the promise he had made to James, and he had no plans of abandoning it. James wasn’t going to hell. A perfect friend like James couldn’t have gone to hell, as Sirius would fight god and win out of spite if that happened. The promise was more metaphorical, and as tempting as it was, James would throw Sirius back into the living world himself if he took his own life. So now, Sirius needed to make it up to James.

Before you rightfully make fun of Sirius for the next mistake he made, remember that he was in Azkaban, was never allowed to grieve his fallen friend, and has never known a day of peace. Sirius was abused by his parents, from the Cruciatus Curse, to hexes and potions used originally to torture people, now used by his crazy family. He had to watch all his friends die, one by one, in a war his own family helped cause, which eventually led to his best mates and his wife dying. He then couldn’t even grieve for everyone, as he was thrown into Azkaban, with no trial or jury to give him a say, and then forced to live out the rest of his life in a cell, surrounded by people who hated his guts, and dementors who forced him to relive every traumatic moment he ever experienced.

With all that being said, he thought he knew the magic world fairly well, being raised in a wizarding family, until he saw James enter the dog shelter. For some odd reason, James and his handsome parents had been replaced with a snotty-looking, uppity family.

“Vernon, I thought we were just going shopping for Diddykins clothing. Why are we in a dog shelter?” The woman with a long neck spoke.

“Because Dudley wanted a large, majestic dog. Isn’t that right, son?” The old, crusty-looking man turned to look at what Sirius assumed to be his son.

“Yeah, daddy!” Responded the blonde-haired boy.

“It just seems like such a waste, from the dog's cost, to the food expenses, vet appointments, and everything in between,” Questioned the long-necked woman.

“Think of it this way, dear. Imagine Ms. Carpenter sees our fine specimen of a dog, in our beautiful house, and we watch as she tries to make that chihuahua look as impressive, and you get to laugh every time.” Vernon then grinned, followed by his wife grinning.

The woman snarled, “Well, I guess we can get a dog.” Sirius's skin crawled when she answered, as it was like Sirius’s mother and father interacting. The need to prove to everyone that they were superior. The constant desire to make themselves the center of attention, always caring about appearances, but never wanting to prove they are good people. No need for introductions, he knew exactly who these losers were and what they wanted.

While Sirius was judging the ugly couple, James moved right next to his enclosure and rubbed his nose on James' hand, catching the boy's attention.

“Aw, you’re so cute,” giggled James. The boy was a couple of years younger than when he must have originally met James on the train. He couldn’t have been over 10. Maybe James got reincarnated after his death, and they gave him another life, but that’s when Sirius started to understand what was happening.

James mentioned meeting Lily’s sister and her husband, and James described them as “a Horse-faced woman with the charm of your brother.” Seeing them in person, he had a feeling these were Lily’s sister and her husband. How the sweet and kind Lily could have such a bitch of a sister, Sirius couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t remember the name of Lily’s sister, Payton. Pelina?
“Petunia,” Called Vernon. That’s what it is: Petunia. What a shitty name, only fitting for a shitty human.

“Aren’t you a good boy,” James… wait. Sirius looked up at James and realized that the boy looked Identical to James, from his brown skin, sharp jawline, thin frame, and all small, rather insignificant details most people wouldn’t notice, but there was something different. The boy had emerald green eyes, the same eyes as Lily. It reminded Sirius of something
***
“I came as soon as I heard, but then I got jumped by 4 Death Eaters, so as you can guess, that’s why I’m late,” Sirius said, moments after appearing in the Potters' Living Room.

“Pads, feels like forever mate,” James said, standing by the doorway. “It’s been a bit boring, hiding away from all the action. Tell me, how’s it been fighting Voldemort with our absence?”

“Prongs, we’ll save gossiping about our enemies for later. Where is he?” Asked Sirius, then followed by a grin from James.

“Follow me.” They walked up the stairs and saw Lily, who looked a little tired but healthy, flashing a big smile at something wrapped in a blanket. Her attention shifted from the thing in her hands to Sirius, whom she greeted with a smile.

“Sirius, Oh, how lovely it is to see you again, and not in a casket,” beamed Lily with all the excitement she could muster.

“Lily, you okay?” Asked Sirius, as he could tell Lily needed rest.

“God, you’re so untight like James,” complained Lily. Even after giving birth, she was ready to be sassy. Probably the reason James fell in love so much. “I’ll sleep later. For now,” Lily gestured to the baby wrapped in blankets, “don’t you want to see him?”

“Yes, please,” Sirius answered quickly, as he walked to the bed where Lily lay. Lily pushed the blankets out of the baby’s face, and Sirius saw little Harry. The spitting image of James as a baby (Sirius knew because Fleamont and Euphemia showed Sirius the first time he entered the Potter’s house, much to the upset and embarrassment of James.) But with Lily’s beautiful emerald eyes.

“He’ll grow up to be a wonderful lad,” Sirius responded, a lump in his throat, making it hard for him to speak.

“Go on, hold him,” Lily offered to Sirius.

“Really?” asked Sirius, looking at Lily as if she were a saint. Lily lifted Harry a bit and told Sirius to hold out his arms. Then placed their son in his hands.

“We called him Harry, Harry James Potter,” James said.

“Sounds great,” Sirius said, not paying much attention to James or Lily. His eyes were fixed on the baby. Harry looked like an angel, a beautiful, heavenly angel. He wished the Wizarding War would be over, just so little Harry could grow up in a time of peace. Sirius became an auror to protect those who couldn’t, to save the innocent. To see Harry, the little angel, giggling in his arms reminded Sirius of the few good things that he now had in his life, and Harry had become one of them.

“Sirius, are you crying?” James asked with a warm smile on his lips.

“What?” responded Sirius, now realizing the tear that was swelling in his eye. “No, I’m not. You’re the ones crying,” Sirius deflected.

“We were going to ask you something, but you weren’t listening. Well, at least Harry likes you.” Lily said, followed by little Harry giggling.

“What is it, Pads and Lily?” Asked Sirius.

“Do you want to be Harry’s godfather?”

Sirius couldn’t even believe what they were asking: he almost forgot what those were. “Yes, Absolutely.” Cheered Sirius, his voice being heard through the entire house.
***
This was Harry, my godson, the boy that I abandoned, James and Lily’s son. I needed to get out of this cage.

The annoying blonde boy saw Harry getting attention from Sirius and pushed him away, shouting, “Move over, stupid Potter!” Sirius grumbled, fighting the urge to bite the stupid kid’s hand. The spoiled brat doesn’t get to use James’s last name. James and Lily died and fought bravely with that name; they fought and died with that name. It’s the name that gave me a home, the name that brought down Voldemort, the name that saved me and many others, just for this stupid, spoiled brat to insult my godson with his name that should bring Harry pride is truly enraging. Sirius thought, but was screaming in his head. The worst part was he had to keep this up; otherwise, he wasn’t going to be adopted by Harry’s aunt and uncle, and how would he protect his godson? How was he going to make sure the last piece of James and Lily stays safe?

“Mum, Dad, I like this one.” Dudley pointed to Sirius. Yes, everything is going according to plan. He was right—when you think before you act, the chess piece moves perfectly into place.

“Can you release that one?” Vernon pointed to Sirius.

One of the workers at the dog shelter immediately responded, “Of course.”

Once Sirius’s cage was unlocked, he trotted right to Vernon.

“Sit,” barked Vernon. Sirius followed by sitting.

“Stand up,” Barked Vernon. Sirius listened.

Vernon continued barking commands: roll over, bark, stand, paw, and Sirius listened every time. Oh. Sirius was starting to hate Vernon. That expectation that everyone needed to listen to him, no matter how wrong, no matter what he did, there were no consequences for him. Vernon and his family, minus Harry, reminded Sirius of his uppity family.

“Vernon, oh, isn’t he a beauty,” Petunia said, then she paused and asked the worker, “It’s a he, right?”

“Yupp,” answered the worker.

“Oh, isn’t he majestic?” Asked Petunia to herself, scooping up his face in her hands. Normally, Sirius would be soaking up all the attention, but he didn’t enjoy getting love from these people. “Can’t wait to see how many dog contests we could win with him. From one's based on looks, tricks, the options are endless.

“He just came in this morning; he is also up for adoption,” informed the worker. “Would you like him today?”

“Oh yes,” replied Petunia.

“Dear,” Called Vernon. “Are you sure today? We still need to get everything for the dog?”

“We’ll get supplies tomorrow,” responded Petunia. Wow, Sirius had no expectations for them, and they still disappointed him with their answer. They really do remind him of Walburga and Orion.

“Fine, we’ll take him,” said Vernon to the worker.
***
Now Sirius was in the car, sitting in the back between Harry and Dudley. Dudley keeps trying to get Sirius’s attention, but Sirius only looks at Harry.

“Daddy, the dog isn’t paying attention to me,” Whined Dudley.

“Pay attention to my son,” ordered Vernon. Too bad I don’t give attention to spoiled brats like Dudley, though, Sirius. Kind of shocking that Vernon could pay attention to his son, as Petunia and her husband were fighting about Sirius’s name.

“Maximus is a good name, Vernon. It means strong in Latin.”

“We don’t need to give him a name meaning strong; we need to give him an impressive name, like Bruce.”

To Sirius, both of those names sounded terrible, but he had a plan. The Marauders had given Sirius a collar with the name “as a joke”, but the moment Sirius got out of Azkaban, before he swam in that icy cold sea, he ate the collar. It was nothing but a reminder of the past—the past he didn’t want to remember because it should have been his future. It became a distant memory. He knew they favored whatever Dudley said, so he threw up the collar (don’t ask how he could do it, you don’t want to know).

“,” Dudley read, looking at the collar Sirius threw up.

“Huh,” Vernon said moronicly, but was there anything non-moronic about Vernon?

“He just threw up his collar,” Said Dudley.

“Likely his name before you bought him,” Harry said. They all turned to him like they didn’t think he had a brain. Sirius cheered on Harry in his head, calling him smart and his favorite godson.

“I guess that’s his name, know,” Defeated Petunia. Yes. Yes, Oh, he would be so proud thought Sirius, but then thought in his head, Don’t think about him, no, I do not want to cry; this is a celebration. I’m out of Azkaban, and I got my godson back. This is a win for Sirius Black, and I have been needing one for eight years since I was imprisoned in that hellhole.

Sirius kept thinking about what he said to comfort James back all those years ago, “I’ll throw myself into hell for you and of course, he meant it back then, but originally said it to comfort James. Now, however, he’s doing exactly that.

Chapter Text

Most people loved nighttime—a time to rest their eyes and get lost in a dream. Nighttime is a bit different for Little Harry, curled up in his bed, remembering Dudley’s birthday. Harry watched his Uncle and Aunt pamper Dudley; showering him in celebration, pouring down gifts made to indulge him, but Harry didn’t need those cool toys, or big parties; he wanted a hug. The way Aunt Petunia wrapped her arms around Dudley, as if to squeeze the pain out of him. Dudley would go from sad to happy just from those simple grabs.

Harry remembers when he heard Petunia coddling her angel after he had a nightmare, while she had only given Harry nightmares. Dudley never had a hard life; everyone called him a dream child —the one kid every parent wishes they could have. Meanwhile, Vernon would call Harry a freak, a burden placed onto the perfect family they were supposed to be. Harry realized long ago that it was the truth. He didn’t know why, but no one ever seemed to think of him as anything other than a burden; he was simply a freak, a burden.

Harry curled his body underneath the cold sheet and felt the tears fall down the side of his head. “Why do you even try to get good grades?” Vernon screamed, furious that Harry’s report card was higher than Dudley’s. “Why doesn’t Potter drop out of school, not like he’s got a future to care about?” Dudley laughed, cornering Harry at school, followed by Dudley’s friends holding him down, and treating him like a punching bag.

Why can’t someone save me? Harry didn’t know who he was asking—himself, his dead parents, or future friends. All Harry knew was that he just wanted to be someone. Someone to love, someone who will protect him when he can’t. Somebody who will hug him in a bear-crushing hug like Aunt Petunia, or someone to watch his back like Dudley’s friends. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but his heart craved for someone to lean on.

That’s when Harry heard the door to his cupboard open. Harry immediately thinks it is an angry Vernon, doing what Vernon does best. Vernon takes two steps from the door to Harry’s small bed, and Harry anticipates Vernon grabbing him. Harry wants to fight Vernon; he wants to make whatever sick plan he has a struggle, but he’s frozen. Paralyzed with something he doesn’t know, fear, shame, apathy. For every second Vernon doesn’t do something, Harry curls up, hoping it would be short. Harry started to shake, thinking Vernon might do something any second, with a plan only the devil would come up with. Harry is terrified, that’s it, Harry was scared, knowing Vernon stood there, and he might beat Harry until he couldn’t walk, breathe, stand–

Vernon jumped on the bed, but if Vernon did that, the old piece of furniture would have snapped in half. Harry lifted the thin sheet off his face, put on his glasses, and sat padfoot. The large black dog crawled next to Harry. He had a bright smile, mischievous eyes, and a playful energy. Padfoot had gotten close to Harry’s face and licked his cheek. “Padfoot,” giggled Harry, “Stop.” Padfoot licked his cheek and stared into Harry’s emerald eyes with his mischievous ones. The paper sheet curled around Harry, never did its job at keeping Harry warm, yet Padfoot, after a few seconds, felt like a heater on Harry’s bony arms and legs. Harry wrapped his arms around like a pillow and twisted his legs around Padfoot's torso. At first, Padfoot squirmed a little, trying to escape the clinging child, until a peaceful snore came out of Harry, and soon the large black dog curled up next to Harry together.
***
Harry only wanted a peaceful morning, but then loud banging came from the ceiling of his cupboard, “Wake up, Potter,” shouted Dudley. “I want three eggs.”

“Wake up, Padfoot, you're getting fed, and I’ll be making them food.”

Padfoot stares at Harry for a solid minute and tilts his head, like he is confused. Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t have the time to wonder if Padfoot has questions; he’s got to cook. Harry reaches for his round, broken glasses and then realizes he slept with them on. He dragged himself out of bed with a groan, rubbing his eyes and walking to the kitchen.

“There you are, boy, you’re 3 minutes late. I want three eggs as I was up all night getting the dog food,” he motioned to Petunia, and whispered, “I got it from the neighbor.”

“I want a biscuit toasted like always, and a scrambled egg,” demanded Petunia. In walked Padfoot, with a mischievous grin and puppy-dog eyes, begging for the food. Vernon grabs the box of dog biscuits and fills the dog bowl until it’s full. Padfoot's beginnings to devour the dog treats like he hadn’t eaten for a century. As Padfoot ate, Harry had Dudley and Petunia in the kitchen, complaining.

“You’re taking forever, is it really that hard for you to cook a couple of eggs?”

“Daddy, why is Potter so bad at his job?” Whined Dudley.

“Cooking isn’t that hard, god, it’s no wonder we got stuck with you, who willingly take care of you?” Shouted Vernon.

The worst part wasn’t that Harry couldn’t change the laws of chemistry and make the food cook faster, but it was the fact that nobody could love him. Why was being loved too much to ask?

Padfoot stopped eating his food, even though he wasn’t finished. Immediately, he walked right up to the door and looked around at Vernon. Vernon takes the hint and opens the door, allowing Padfoot to piss. Unfortunately, Padfoot finds the most beautiful flowers in Petunia’s garden and starts to ruin them.

“VERNON!” Roared Petunia, Vernon now at her side, to see Padfoot turning Petunia’s prized roses into his toilet.

“You little mutt,” Shrieked Vernon, walking over to grab Padfoot's collar, but the large dog sprinted to the door. “Get over here, you stupid-”

“Breakfast is ready,” called Harry, putting the last plate on the table and starting to make his breakfast of whatever scraps he could scavenge in the fridge. His knobbly hands grabbed a stick of grapes, and figured it would do for breakfast. Harry turned on the sink, lightly washing the grapes to rid them of bacteria. Harry could almost smell the sweetness in them and saw the light reflect in the water droplets. Just as Harry was about to bite one off, Dudley whines, “I want fruit too! Daddy, can I have Harry’s grapes?” Dudley flashed his dad a smile and puppy eyes. Vernon, now with Padfoot's collars in his large, meaty hands, shrugs.

“Give Dudley your grapes.”

“Can’t I just eat a couple?” asks Harry. This request is immediately denied.

“That’s an order, boy.” As Vernon shouted at Harry, Padfoot noticed Vernon’s grip lessened. Vernon blinked, and Padfoot was free, leaping right towards Dudley. Before Dudley could react, he snatched a chunk of Dudley’s eggs and ran to the staircases.

“Catch that stupid dog,” shouted Vernon, as he ran after the dog, followed by Dudley demanding his food back, and then Petunia telling the dog to come back. The only one not interested in chasing the black dog was Harry. He seemed to be more keen on quickly eating his grapes in peace. Unfortunately, Harry still had to hear the Dursley Family shouting and chasing Padfoot, but at least it was peaceful enough for him.
***
The neighbors whom Harry never bothered to learn the names of were now chatting up Vernon and Petunia. It fascinated Harry how just one guess in the house caused the Dursleys to transform into unrecognizable people. One second, they tell Harry to do everything, cook, clean, laundry, dishes, but the moment someone new entered the door, “Oh, don’t mind me, just doing the dishes,” “Oh, I just finished baking a new cake, want some?” “Give me a second, I'm sweeping the stairs.” Harry preferred the Dursleys with company, as it meant they locked him up in his cupboard and left him to his own devices. He was unloved, sure, but it wasn’t anything he didn’t know.

“We got him a couple of days ago. We originally didn’t plan on getting a dog from the little shelter. We were just looking around as my son begged us to go. But that’s when he caught our eye. He was smart and a beautiful specimen; we just had to get him,” Vernon had said, with the smile of a gentleman. Right next to him sat Padfoot, but his long tongue stuck out as the neighbor’s wife scratched his ears.

“He truly is such a beautiful,” Said Petunia, “Almost as beautiful as this cake I made,” Petunia says that, as though Harry didn’t see it in the packaging. Once everyone had a slice of the bought cake, Padfoot sat next to the neighbor’s wife, giving her the big, bright eyes and a small whine.

“Quick begging,” Demanded Vernon, but the Irish Wolfhound continued to look at the Wife’s slice of cake.

“I’m not that hungry, Arnold,” she said while breaking off a cake of the pastry. “Is there any chocolate in this?”

“100 percent Vanilla,” Petunia said, followed by a piece of cake being thrown a foot in the air by the wife, and Padfoot catching it.

Padfoot doesn’t always get food when he begs, like Harry; they sometimes just forget to feed him. Harry wonders why Padfoot doesn’t do this, as he only ate the dog food once when he was brought home from the shelter. Even so, he makes it their problem. He has often licked and bitten at Vernon's shoes when he forgot to feed Padfoot, and he will eat Petunia’s flowers and clothes when he hasn’t remembered to be fed. Most often, he will snatch food straight from Dudley’s plate, not a lot, but enough to get their attention and make them feed him. Originally, they chose not to reward bad behavior with food, but an incident made them realize Padfoot didn’t work that way.
***

It seemed like any other Sunday. Harry gets up early to start making breakfast, and Vernon and Dudley get up to start harassing Harry, “Try not to burn anything, alright.” “I want the rest of the eggs in the fridge.” “Got, I wonder if your parents killed themselves in the car crash to get away from you!” After Vernon had said that, Padfoot stared at him and growled, low and threatening.

“Oi, don’t growl at me,” demanded Vernon, followed by Padfoot growling again. “Don’t start with me!” He threatened. Padfoot didn’t growl again, but his eyes still twinkled with mischief. “Just know you ain’t getting food for the rest of the day.”

5 minutes passed, and Harry relaxed, finishing the last part of the breakfast. Vernon with beans on toast, Petunia with eggs and a biscuit, and Dudley with strawberry pancakes and whipped cream. Dudley looked down at his pancake and stabbed the whole pastry with his fork, and closed his eyes to savor the taste. When he took a bite, however, all he tasted was the metal fork.
Padfoot ran like a shoplifter, the thick pancake dangling from his mouth. Dudley’s immediate cries and Petunia’s shouts of anguish echoed throughout the house. Vernon wasted no time in playing Padfoot’s favorite game: steal and chase. Dudley immediately followed, screaming with anger, too.

Harry used their game as a chance to swallow some of the strawberries in the fridge.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Asked Petunia, looking at the fruit Harry had in his hand. “Thought I told you to eat the carrots for breakfast, as Dudley doesn’t like them?”

“Just this once,” Begged Harry.

“Pretty sure you and I are both speaking English; no means no, young man.” After Petunia grimaced, Harry put the strawberries in the fridge and let out his frustrations with a sigh, unfortunately, a rather loud sigh. Once the sound penetrated Petunia’s ear, she turned around and stepped a foot closer to Harry, raised her hand, and then her voice,
“Don’t test me,” she warned.

It took another minute or two until Vernon came back with his meaty hands wrapped around the chaotic dog's collar. Dudley looked a little upset as Sirius inhaled his pancake before they caught him. One of the benefits of being a dog was that Sirius’s hearing improved; he could hear Petunia and Harry’s interaction. Sirius had his suspicions, but after 1 month of living with these losers, it was no longer in question: Those bitches put their hands on his godson. Sirius had been trying to make Vernon’s life more difficult, but he was backed into a corner, and Vernon grabbed his collar and dragged him to the kitchen.

There, he saw the ugliest bitch that Sirius had the misfortune of knowing. That stupidly long neck, and that horse-like face, Sirius refused to believe that this waste of oxygen was Lily Evans’s sister. Once Sirius heard about Harry’s “Crime”, he was furious.

You’re telling me his only crime was trying to eat?.

“Not so chatty now,” Gloated Petunia. “Maybe we should starve both of you, get you back in line.” Sirius looked up and saw that face. That smug, cruel smile, almost like the person’s happiness was relying on your pain to feel joy, to gain a sense of self. The eyes looking down on you, like you were nothing more than dirt, or to that disgusting woman, a mudblood.

Sirius had seen that face before; confronted it many times, such as when he defended Regulus or when he protested against her vile ideas and morals. That face should have died with her, but he was now in a haunted house, staring directly at his mother's ghost. Sirius felt the growls rumbling inside him and gave her a deadly stare, with his sharp teeth and rage coursing through every inch of his body.

Petunia looked towards the cloth and straightened herself out, “We’re going to church. Sarah Grimhood thinks she’s so perfect, but her two children and their perfect pale skin and perfect clothing, I plan on showing her up, so we need to start getting ready.”

“Aren’t we bringing Padfoot?”

“It’s recommended to keep them at home, and I will not let Stupid Sarah the chance to scold me-us.”
***

Sirius was overjoyed; not only was he not leaving to go on some lame pageant show, but he also got to stay home with his adorable godson.

“Hey, Padfoot,” Started Vernon, Oh Merlin’s beard, please just leave.

“Oh, come on, Vernon, we’re going to be late!” Shouted Petunia from her car. Finally, the horse women did something worthy of praise, but that doesn’t mean Sirius will praise her. Vernon gave him a I’m watching you stare, and closed the door behind them. Sirius walked up next to the door, his ears touching the door, listening to their ugly-ass car start up and pull out of the driveway. Sirius no longer heard the engine in the driveway, meaning they were gone.

Sirius’ ears perked up, and he gave a cheerful bark. He paraded around the house like the wicked witch was dead, demons burn and in churches, Sirius thought to himself, trying to remember Muggle Studies he had taken with him-

him.

He, who now believes—no, Sirius, stop dwelling on that. Focus on the present, not the past. You've already done enough of that in Azkaban. The fuzzy memory of laughing with James, he doesn’t remember which class or what joke they told. All Sirius recalls is the joy washing over him, like ice on skin during the summer.

Sirius tried to focus on his breathing, to keep himself in the moment, but his mind was playing tricks on him. Sirius and Peter are dueling in the Muggle street, curses landing all around Peter. Then he remembers laughing, and then Bellatrix’s cackle. Just then, he was in Azkaban, surrounded by the worst of the Wizarding World. Sirius thought it couldn’t get much worse, then his face appeared. Those kind eyes were looking down at him like he was a rat or a worm.

“Remus, please, I’m innocent.”

“Traitor,” Remus said. Even though Sirius covered his ear, he could hear Remus calling him a traitor, the screams getting louder and louder, “How could I possibly love you!” “You will always be a black before a marauder!” “It should have been you to die, not James.” Remus was now crying, but Sirius had heard Remus cry before, and this wasn’t anything like that. Remus was a silent crier, unlike James; Sirius learn to figure out if Remus was crying based on what he called his “Moony senses”. Then Remus grabbed Sirius’s hand. Similar to when Lupin kissed his cheek and told him how much he loved him. His warm, scared hand wrapped around him like a quilt in a blizzard. This time, Remus’s hands were cold like the blizzard.

“Padfoot,” Moony cried, through tears, “if you want to redeem yourself, remember the promise you made to James.” Remus lost his grip on Sirius’s hand and fell to the ground, crying.

Remember the promise you made to James! Sirius thought as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was back at the Dursleys’ house. The smell of hypocrisy was in the air, though not as potent, for those morons weren’t here at the moment. He then heard the cries of someone. It was like the wails of a stray kitten, and they were coming from the cupboard under the stairs. Sirius' heartstrings were being plucked like a guitar as he heard his adorable, sweet, precious godson sobbing into a pillow, like he used to do. Sirius had James to rely on; it was Sirius’s turn to act on the promise he made to James. Sirius looked around, making sure no one was around, and once deciding the coast was clear, quickly changed back into human form, unlocking the cupboard door, and changing back into the Irish wolfhound.

There, lying on a mattress with sticks for legs, was his lovely godson. Crying into a flat pillow, old, baggy clothing belonging to his shitty cousin loosely hung on his bones, wrapped in skin. His broken glasses are on his nightstand, and spiders are hanging from the ceiling, over his unkempt black hair. Sirius went up to the bed and gave a light whimper, wondering if Harry would notice him, but it turned out he did, as he looked up from his pillow.

“Padfoot?” Asked Harry, and Sirius just wants to grab that face, and just let him cry on his shoulders, instead, he jumps on the bed. “You just wouldn’t get it, Padfoot,” sniffled Harry. Oh, how wrong you are, Harry.

“I just want them to love me, like they love Dudley. They always tell me I’m incapable of loving, just a waste of space. But I want to be loved. Why can’t they love me?” wept Harry, letting the tears fall down his cheeks instead of wetting the pillow. Sirius remembers the first fight with his mother, her disapproval of Remus and James as friends. She had said he deserved better friends than they were, but Sirius knew they were the kindest people he had ever met. Sirius loved his mother, but sometimes he wondered if she reciprocated the love he once had for her. She had said that he should be making friends with Slytherins over Grifindor's, so she wouldn’t have to lose her son. He couldn’t just leave James, Remus, or Peter, and so it ended in a screaming match. Sirius left the kitchen to go to his room, wondering why it was so hard for her to love him.

“Do you love me, Padfoot?” Harry questioned, his voice cracking. Sirius responded by licking his cheek, tasting the salty tears, and it made Harry giggle.

“Is that a yes?” Questioned Harry, wiping away the salty tears on the other cheek. Sirius gave Harry his best puppy dog eyes and a happy smile, then a little bark. Harry looked away from Sirius, and his face went from happy to startled.

“How did you unlock the door?” Quizzed Harry, looking back at Padfoot, and Sirius felt his smile turn from charming to mischievous, “Oh my god, they are going to kill me.”

Not if I get to them first, Sirius thought darkly, still thinking about what they put his godson through while he was gone. Playful Sirius was gone, it’s time for chaotic Sirius to make a comeback, destructive Sirius was more fun anyway.
***

Sirius left the cupboard with a mission, to force those filthy bastards to not fuck with my Godson! Sirius went upstairs and saw Vernon’s stained socks covering the room. Sirius felt his mouth grin and imagined the rage and frustration on Vernon’s face when he saw his chewed-up socks. He will get to see the bloody bastard scream and lose his mind. Sirius prays to God that Vernon cries; he wants to view the bastard sobbing like Sirius did after his first day in Azkaban.

Although the taste wasn’t pleasant, the pleasure Sirius would get when Vernon goes mad will make up for the nasty taste in his mouth. He followed with Dudley and Petunia, with extra prejudice for Petunia, making sure to rip many of them up into little pieces. He saw a couple of books on a shelf in Dudley’s nightstand, and Sirius knew useless Dudley was not going to be reading those anytime soon. He figured that the ant would make use of the literature than Dudley would, so he grabbed them with his mouth and threw them on the carpet.

Sirius traveled through the Dursleys’ house, or as he called it, the House of degenerates and Harry. He knocked over small things like lamps, pillows, mugs, and other dishes lying around because the slugs were too lazy to put them away and clean themselves. Sirius then went outside and pissed all over Petunia’s flowers, knowing it would piss her off. The only flower he didn’t turn into his toilet was the red-orange Lily in the corner of the backyard. By far one of the most beautiful flowers in the garden, Sirius refused to believe Petunia could take care of a plant that well.

Once Sirius had finished causing problems on purpose, he went to see how Harry was doing. He looked to be doing alright, but he was playing with broken toys on his bed, likely making up a story in his head about his toys. The scene wasn’t the prettiest, but he got the chance to see Harry act like a kid, like how he should have been raised. Harry was engrossed in his own world, not acknowledging Sirius at all until the dog jumped on his bed.

“Hey, Padfoot,” giggled Harry, followed by Sirius licking his cheek, and Harry laughed again.
***

Padfoot slid off the bed, standing in front of the bedroom door. He gave Harry a little ruff, like he was inviting him. Harry's mind ran through all his memories with the Dursleys, but he couldn’t remember the last time they looked back at him. When they went somewhere, Vernon never looked back at him to see if he was coming; they only looked at him if Harry caused them problems or needed someone to blame.

Harry didn’t know what this palpable feeling in his heart was, but it reminded him of fire. Harry had been told fire burned, but this feeling was like a spark juxtaposed in a tundra. Harry wanted this feeling more, to allow this heat to warm his heart. He accepted Padfoot's invite and went off with him.

Immediately, Harry's eyes go wide when he sees the destruction throughout the house, and he looks over to see a silly grin on Padfoot's face.

“They're going to kill me,” Harry whispered, but bellowed in his head. His hands began to shake, and he felt his legs losing the strength to support him, but when the dog came up to him, he rubbed his soft, fluffy face on his hips. Harry's green eyes meet Padfoot’s, and when Harry sees thought-focused browns, the stare is strong, but Harry also feels something in his Heart, like they will be okay, as long as Harry has his dog beside him, he would have someone to lean on, to hold on when he didn’t have the strength to continue.

Their strength will be put to the test when the door opens.
***

Happened immediately after Harry went back into the cupboard, and somehow the dog locked the door, even though Harry had no idea how the dog could do that unless he is magical. He heard some chatter about whoever Petunia was beefing with that week, to a bloody-murder scream.

Vernon did the only thing he was good at, blaming someone and taking out his anger on them, Harry thinks, double-taking what he just thought, he didn’t think he could think that, and not get in trouble. He realized something, something he should have learned a while ago, I don’t have to like them, or tell them anything.

Harry must have been a fortune teller, because Vernon’s bellows could be heard all the way from Singapore, and he came running to his cupboard, but stopped when he saw the lock on the door.

“WHY IS THE HOUSE A MESS!” Roared Vernon, face red like a pepper.

“The house is a mess?” Quizzled Harry. His thoughts about Vernon made him realize something; they can’t read his thoughts. He can lie to them, insult them in his head, and they would have no clue what is occurring in his brain. Vernon looked taken aback, not knowing it was a lie, as his face went from enraged to annoyed. “The door was locked, and I had no way of getting out.

“Vernon,” squeaked Aunt Petunia. “We didn’t feed Padfoot today. Do you think that might be the reason?” Petunia hated cleaning more than she hated Harry; maybe that’s why she made Harry do it.

“I’ll give him some food, give Harry some.” Vernon moved his mouth to Petunia’s ear and lightly whispered, “He’s getting real thin. He needs some meat so people aren’t suspicious of us.”

So the Dursleys will always think Padfoot made the house a disaster because they didn’t feed him, but in reality, it was because Harry was threatened by Petunia. The moment Sirius saw Harry getting a bit of food, he decided that would be his priority: to keep the last of James happy. He wanted Harry to understand even a fraction of someone saving you from the abusive people called your guardians.

Harry caught Padfoot's stare, and he felt like he was being watched, like someone was looking out for him. His heart calmed a bit, and his body released some of the tension within. Harry pondered what kind of feeling this was.

Chapter Text

It was an odd scene, that was for sure. Vernon Dursley, his wife, and son were all eating with their mouths full, while the scrawny little boy snacked on some apples, handing a couple of bites to his large black dog. The Irish Wolfhound had a bright gleam in his eye as he gobbled up the end of the banana. Despite there being a dog, Vernon and Petunia were the ones barking orders, telling Harry to get their drinks, to shut up, to make Dudley more food. That is, until the dog started getting to bother Vernon, sniffing his plate, begging for his slice of bacon, and generally being a nuisance.

The little tabby cat stared at them from the window, wondering why she had let Harry into that hellhole of a house. She warned Albus of those dreadful muggles, but no, fuck McGonagall’s opinion, it’s not like you’ve called her the brightest witch ever and rely on her! Unfortunately, McGonagall was told not to interfere with Harry’s life. Still, she couldn’t wait for the day she was allowed to turn those reattached muggles into crabs. They already matched the low-life bottom-feeding personalities. Still, that dog has helped Harry more times than she could count. McGonagall had never been very good with animals, let alone Muggle animals, but that dog didn’t seem real. The way it acts, moves, behaves, it’s more human than animal-like. Although it wasn’t like McGonagall was going to complain about the dog for helping the poor boy, and keeping him safe.

Only a couple of months before July 31st, and Harry can be safe; until then, the tabby cat will just have to stay here and keep watch. Make sure they don’t kill Harry, and wait until Harry leaves for Hogwarts, and beg Albus to let Harry stay at Hogwarts during winter and Summer break.

As McGonagall breathed in the pesticides that exude from the garden, she could hear large paws barely getting louder. She turned around, only to be greeted with a huge black dog creeping behind her; it was Harry’s pet. Once McGonagall spotted the dog, he abandoned his stealth and bolted towards McGonagall. There is no way McGonagall was going to turn into a human in the center of the most Muggle neighborhood ever, so she jumped over the fence. She was going to go over the fencing, find a concealed place, and turn back into her normal self with a wand in her hands, when a gigantic devil leaped over the fencing without any effort, and continued to dart after her. She ran through the bushes, thinking the oversized dog wouldn’t be willing to trample the flowers, but the dog almost seemed to have a vendetta against the blossoms, as each step hit a stem and shook them like a blast of wind.

McGonagall used to think she was fast for a cat, but that wolf threw leaves, dirt, and whatever substrate had the misfortune of being underneath the dog as he ran. She could feel her little legs start to strain. The only thing the brilliant witch could think of was that the woman who survived the wizard war for two decades, and worked as a spy during those entire two decades, who was a teacher for young and teenagers, was finally going to die because of a hungry Muggle dog, which was way too big. She always thought her workaholic patterns, the endless troublemakers you deal with being the head of Griffindor, were going to be the death of her, but no, it’s a larger furball.

McGonagall does the only thing she can think of, and jumps over the fence again, except once she’s over on the other side, she climbs a tree, and into the branches that the giant dog is too big to get up into.

Great Now I’m stuck

***
“Minverva,” Albus worried, “What happened?”
“First things first, when Harry Potter comes to this school, we are forcing him to stay every summer and winter break here, and secondly, I’m hexing those Muggles when I get the chance, and a hex for that mutt as well!” Before Albus could stop his usually cool and collected friend from her outburst, she stormed off, the leaves and dirt covering her body dripping off her as she furiously walked. She shouted a cleaning spell that seemed to come from the depths of hell, and walked off.

Albus decided to talk to Minerva later.
***
“YEAH!” Shouted Dudley. “SUNDAY!”

Vernon Laughed, “You know you don’t have school? It’s summer. Which reminds me, the mail”

“Hey, Padfoot. Can you get the mail?” Harry asked Sirius. Normally, Sirius would rather eat one of Petunia’s disgusting homemade cakes, like the one she was making now, than choose to listen to Vernon, but since it was Harry, no point in arguing. Trotted to the door and quickly took a look at the mail.
Muggle Bills - Remus told Sirius the horror these wicked invented held for Muggles.
Aunt Marge’s postcard - she sends this way too often for it to be normal.
An invitation to a dog show - great, now Sirius knows what he’ll be doing on the 8th of August.

The final Postcard, the one that told him everything he needed to know. The invitation to Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardry, asking Sirius’s godson to join them.

Harry, his godson, was going to Hogwarts. Sirius didn’t even know what to do. What secrets he was going to tell Harry, like when he was running from Filch ‘cuz he hexed his ass, or when he threw snowballs under the invisibility cloak, or the time he and James—

Sirius shouted at his own head to shut up, that it was in the past, and he refused to cry like a whim over someone he had years to get over. It’s done, no more.

“Hey, Padfoot, I need the mail!” Shouted Vernon, getting his fat ass up off the chair, and walked over to Sirius. Before Vernon could see the Hogwarts letter, Sirius snatched it and ran into Harry’s cupboard, hiding it under the bed. Now time to wait for Harry to sleep.
***
For Harry, it seemed like any normal night. The Dursleys pretended like he didn’t exist, and Padfoot was getting ready for bed, except this time, he held an envelope in his mouth.

“Padfoot,” whined Harry, “I told you to try not to steal stuff.” That’s when the weirdness thing happened: Padfoot stood on his hind legs, and his soft black fur flattened into pale skin. His head turned from a dog snout to a human face, and the next thing Harry knew, a grown ass man was standing where Padfoot used to stand. Harry tried to scream, but was cut off by the man’s hands covering his mouth.

“Hold your broomsticks, mate, don’t worry,” The man's voice was raspy and dry. “Holy shit, is that my real voice? Oh my god! My voice, my beautiful voice, is gone.” Harry decided to slowly move away from the stranger, in fear of the mentally unstable man going insane and trying to kill him.

“Hold on, calm down, I can explain.”

“What is there to explain?” Harry quivered. “I need to go to sleep and forget about this dream.”

“No, Harry. I’m your dog: Padfoot.”

“Okay, I’m officially insane.”

“Harry.” The man started, but cut himself off, and shook his head, maybe trying to clear his mind. “Harry, you’re magical, just like me.” The strange man took a look at Harry. “Okay, I’m probably losing you, so remember when that twat of an uncle gave you a haircut, where it was basically a bald cut?”

“Yes,” Harry responded, wondering why he was answering the stranger's questions.

“Well, do you remember Your hair grew back the next day, and even longer than before?”

Harry took a second to think and responded, “Yeah. Vernon went on and on about how there’s no such thing as magic. And he was correct.”

“Well, do you know any scientific explanations for something like that?” This is how the rest of their night continued, with Sirius proving to Harry that he was a wizard and using the many examples throughout his life. Sirius went over so much, like his name being Sirius, how his parents truly died, the wizarding war, his invitation to Hogwarts, and so much more. Harry was even told about how Sirius was a framed mass murderer. Harry was originally skeptical, but since he and the Dursleys were alive, Harry could believe his former dog was framed.

“Don’t you see it, Harry? You are my godson, and you are going to Hogwarts. You will finally leave this place.”

“Really,” Harry asked, teary-eyed, feeling every single burn, rash, and hit he’d ever taken from the family of devils, be lifted off his shoulder.

“You won’t be guaranteed safety at Hogwarts, but with me by your side, I'll always have your back.”