The boys were sitting with the dog on the grass near the garage: the poor fellow had again had something like a claustrophobia attack. All three were examining together an album "Firearms: From Invention to Our Days," which Snape had recently returned. The dog looked at the pages with pictures and diagrams especially attentively, so that it created the impression he was really reading. He even held it down with his nose sometimes. But for someone this activity was already boring.
"Well, we can't just live here with him!" Harry exclaimed with annoyance.
He had completely different plans for today, and spending it in the role of a nurse to a huge dog didn't appeal to him. The dog whined pitifully.
"Let me sit with him alone," Dudley sighed. "Will you bring me the album about medieval weapons? It's on my bed or..."
Before he could finish, Sirius growled viciously, jumped up and threw himself somewhere behind Harry's back.
"Stupefy. Incarcerous," Snape, who had appeared silently in the Dursleys' yard, looked at the dog with regret. "Just as expected. Fattened up, rested up, gained strength, and this specimen started spending it, as always, on the stupidest thing. Enter the garage, colleagues, I've set up a screen from tracking charms there."
The boys scooped up the dog and immediately migrated behind the large iron door. Dudley was spinning his head around in amazement, not understanding what colleagues the professor was addressing. And he literally opened his mouth when next to the latter, as if woven from air, two more appeared, in whom Harry immediately recognized Hippocrates Smethwyck and Filius Flitwick. Potter greeted them joyfully, also introducing them in turn to his cousin.
Black was given a talking-to, loosening his bonds, and he immediately tried to growl, but shut up as soon as his frowning godson showed him his fist.
"We decided to arrange a small consultation," Smethwyck explained. "It won't hurt," the famous healer smirked, noticing how Dudley became wary when he heard an unfamiliar word.
And Harry was simply confused, though for a completely different reason: he completely didn't expect such aggression from the dog toward Snape. After all, yesterday everything seemed normal. Well, more or less. Or was he growling at the new people? What did they do to him?
"Since the main idea belongs to this young man, then... Harry, explain yourself."
And Potter told how he suggested using Polyjuice to change forms so that there wouldn't be further "fusion" with the animagus form.
"Most curious thought, Harry," as always, Professor Flitwick rubbed his palms. "Will this reduce the influence on personality, Master Smethwyck?"
"Unknown. But we have a unique chance to find out."
"The kneazle turned out cool, but... doggy," Dudley inserted and surprised himself.
"How so?" Smethwyck inquired cheerfully.
"He fetched things, rolled around, just like a dog, tried to bark," the boy smiled.
"Bark?!"
"He behaved exactly like a dog, especially at first, and then became a bit more cat-like, already before the reverse transformation," Harry pulled out a notebook where he'd been recording observations, and Dudley almost sat down. When had he managed?
"Research?! Time and actions? So-o," Smethwyck and Snape stretched out carnivourously, jointly clutching the not very clean and quite crumpled notebook, almost bumping foreheads over it.
"I'll also pour it into the Pensieve," Harry promised.
"Bravo, gentlemen," Flitwick applauded them. "But what personality parameters do we have in the initial version? Severus?"
"I suppose that's not the best option. I'm biased. Maybe you'd be better, Filius?"
"You're right on the edge of his behavioral reactions, so go ahead."
"I don't even know," the unexpected irony in Smethwyck's voice drew everyone's attention to the healer, "whether to urgently drink with you as brothers, or something else. Everyone's on a first-name basis, I'm the only one 'esteemed Master Smethwyck.' But I don't want to drink at all when there's more interesting business. But let's be simpler with me too."
"What's 'drink as brothers'?" Harry inquired.
And when the smiling adults explained it to him, he declared:
"Well, why drink? Let the research be our brothering ceremony!"
"You'll go far, young man..."
"Indeed, a bright head!"
Harry caught Snape's fleeting glance, from which something suddenly warmed in his chest. He understood that the professor was... proud of him.
The object of research, bound tightly but softly and carefully, sat near them all this time, trying to insert at least a word, but—alas, all that came out was choking on his own barking and growling. The scientists glanced at his torments with understanding, but Harry was already pretty upset by his behavior. And Dudley, it seemed, too.
"...Easily excitable, aggressive, unbalanced, spoiled. Inclined to unmotivated cruelty."
The dog growled quietly and began shaking, ready to throw himself, but Snape calmly continued:
"Enthusiastic but superficial, always grasped things easily but didn't want to make serious efforts for anything. Egotisti... egocentric. But absolutely loyal to friends."
Black fell silent and sat down, staring at Snape in surprise and pricking up his ears.
"Still, colleague, what can you say about the mass murder?"
The dog barked and shook his head, but except for Dudley no one looked at him.
"I don't know about the murder of Muggles, but Black always didn't give a damn about other people's lives. Of course, if those weren't the lives of his friends. I can say one thing for certain: among the Lord's supporters I didn't see him. Although, of course, I didn't know everyone, but the inner circle—quite well. If you think about it, Black wasn't the person to keep in deep secrecy. And he himself wouldn't have been able to resist revealing himself. Malfoy, by the way, once also checked—there was no one similar... I would have cursed him, of course, with pleasure. For old times' sake. But we need information. And Harry needs someone else besides us, whom no one knows about. Black, will you give your life for your godson?" he suddenly turned to the dog.
Sirius, shaking from barely restrained growling, suddenly calmed down and looked seriously at Snape. And barked. Affirmatively and somewhat defiantly. Snape nodded approvingly, from which the dog sat down in puzzlement.
"So... you two have old scores with each other?" Smethwyck asked, beginning to examine the dog.
"You could say that."
Flitwick pulled out his invariable yellow crystal, which immediately dimmed near Black, and clicked his tongue. While they were occupied with their new charge under Dudley's vigilant eye, not wanting his former victim to be inconvenienced, Harry finally got to Snape.
"Professor, if everyone thinks he's Riddle's supporter, then they might decide he'll be hunting for me?"
"Dumbledore thinks so. I think that's exactly why I received orders to study with you practically openly. But I'm rather sure of the opposite. He was your father's best friend..."
"Holy shit Dad was friends with!.. Oops. Sorry. And... how was his head in general?"
"About your father?"
Harry nodded.
"It varied, Potter, it varied... But overall not bad, he had brains."
And Snape told about how he'd prepared detention for him, then still a first-year, in the Trophy Room and that there were awards there for his father for more than just Quidditch... And not only for his father. Turns out, he'd hoped that Harry, at least out of spite and a sense of contradiction, would search for and find as much information as possible about his parents.
Hearing a quiet moan or whine, Severus turned around and laughed:
"A gobsmacked dog. We should get a camera here..."
The dog looked at Snape as if seeing him for the first time in his life.
"Well, I'm an idiot..." Harry whispered, finally digesting the information.
Snape silently spread his hands.
"Fortunately, that's all in the past. But we got distracted. What do you say, colleagues?"
And the consultation continued, so much so that Harry understood at best a couple of words from the sentence. What can be said about Dudley. And about Sirius, yes... Their friendly triple sigh didn't distract the scientist-experimenters.
Each sighed about his own.
Black—about how he couldn't bite Snape at all: his godson was categorically against it. But he wanted to...
Harry—about how much more he still had to read, when would he ever do it? His aunt had taken away the flashlight, and with wandless Lumos he got tired too quickly.
And only Dudley sighed, dreaming about when this incomprehensible chatter would end. He couldn't leave and abandon his charge, be he even a terrorist, so he suffered quietly, glancing expressively at his cousin. Did he really understand something? And... would he explain it in human terms later?
***
And a day later Aunt Marge arrived. Naturally, with bulldogs. And now there wasn't even a question of who would win: Harry just had to remember Draco Malfoy and let streams of smoke from his nostrils, and the dogs either ran away or crawled away half-bent. And since they were still trained, it didn't take long to scare them—once was enough.
"That's fine," Harry thought, "I really don't want to suffer from heartburn. Good doggies, they understand. Maybe this will transfer to Black, at least partially? Whoever's smarter, I'll take their fur."
Oddly enough, Harry was allowed to show himself to Marge in the form of a little dragon, which he did with pleasure. He still wanted to scare the nasty aunt, even though she was behaving quite calmly toward him so far. He easily transformed and was simply shocked when she came right up to him, felt his back, legs, that is paws... businesslike passed her hand from withers to tail (it was pleasant!), and then almost climbed into his mouth, immediately assessing his teeth!
"Good," Miss Dursley pronounced her verdict. "Young and healthy beast. Pleasant."
And the Dursley family could admire how the chocolate-cream little dragon's jaw literally dropped, and then in his place appeared an equally shocked Harry.
"You... liked it? But you... You never..."
"I hate apologizing, boy. But apparently I'll have to. Sorry. I just love animals more than people. That's how it turned out."
And the aunt quickly left the room, leaving Harry in the same state of deep amazement.
However, this didn't prevent him from still catching Villain that very day and cutting off a tuft of white fur from his belly. So they wouldn't notice, of course, or at least not right away.
***
"Hi, Sirius... Some Polyjuice? Want to go for a walk?"
And not suspecting anything, Black lapped up a new portion of potion with the same taste, but the smell was different, just a little, but...
The boys, whom his Dog had begun to consider masters, laughed together and grabbed him by the paws, which had become thick, short and... white?! He looked at that part of the wall that Harry had changed. What a strong godson—the transfiguration had been holding for more than one day!
But finally his eyes focused. What?! He was all white? He... a puppy?! Where did they get a puppy's fur? He'd only smelled a couple of adult dogs. Oh, he'd show them! But they prudently didn't let him out into the yard.
Black in the form of a white English bulldog puppy turned out to be completely inimitable. No, not a tiny puppy, more like a teenager, but still... A cheerful elastic ball with folds. He wanted to play, rush around on the grass, well he flew out of the garage as soon as Dudley opened the door slightly, and there...
He even slid a bit on his belly from surprise and immediately landed in the affectionate "embrace" of a wide drooling mouth... Mommy... He yapped. It turned out offensively non-solid. He was carefully turned onto his back and... a-a-a! They started licking him! Everywhere! Both his belly and... there. O-oh! He spun around frantically, but a powerful white paw pressed him down so that he only squeaked.
"Ah, Grace recently had her last puppy taken away," Marjorie Dursley was touched. "She was so sad that I couldn't leave her at home like before. Look how sweetly they're playing! Well, Petunia, you secretive one, you still got a bulldog after all? And without me?! Vernon! Oh, you..."
Petunia Dursley stiffened, but Marge's gaze had already slid to the dogs, and she was touched again:
"Though... I guess everything happened unexpectedly and quickly: you saw him and couldn't refuse. He's such a wonder! Oh, you're my sweetie..."
She extended her hand and easily scraped Sirius out from under her favorite. Black rejoiced, but immediately understood he was wrong.
He hung in the air, and all his charms were made public, weighed and evaluated by this nightmarish woman. Though he would never call this grenadier a woman. And this all in front of Petunia, who KNEW. And in front of the boys. Oo-oh! Sirius yapped, squirmed as much as he could, tried to nip, but couldn't wriggle out of the wrinkled skin—they held him professionally.
"What a lovely little fold on his muzzle! What a nice little nose, yes... You're my sunshine!"
They tickled his belly a bit, and Sirius almost disgraced himself.
Marjorie turned to Petunia, deftly holding the puppy.
"I'm even ready to forgive you for not contacting me. In a couple of years, this little one and one of my little bitches will have simply wonderful offspring! I hope his pedigree is in order?"
The little bulldog squeaked weakly.
"Let me go-o-o!"
Petunia didn't immediately regain her power of speech, or rather, was simply afraid to open her mouth and laugh quite indecently, and the boys had to bail her out. Harry jabbed his brother in the ribs with his elbow, the latter winced but figured out what to say. The aunt listened with enthusiasm while he waxed eloquent, slowly leading her to the conclusion that for "such a darling" pedigree wasn't so important anymore.
But when he reached this conclusion, she, on the contrary, went ballistic: not to care about the pedigree of such an excellent specimen—that's just beyond comprehension! And barely pale from her pressure, Petunia tried to explain everything by lack of experience in such things, and she immediately promised to take care of this matter. Personally. Oh.
The boys scraped their toes on the lawn, trying to hold back laughter. But Dudley still took Sirius from his aunt. True, he immediately put him on the grass, and there... He barely managed to dart to the bushes. Doing his business in front of everyone was terrible. But as soon as he emerged from behind the thick branches onto the lawn, the aunt's quite loving bulldogs met him there. Villain, it turned out, also liked the puppy. He backed away, but... didn't make it.
"They licked me to death... save me... somebody!" Sirius howled and threw himself at Harry's feet. Praise Merlin, his godson took pity on him and finally carried him to the garage.
How nice it was. Dark, quiet. No sunshine and no bulldogs and their mistresses! Having carefully wiped himself on his own bedding, he trampled in place, lay down and fell asleep. Too many emotions had fallen to his lot.
He didn't even hear Miss Dursley coming "with an inspection" and giving advice to Dudley and Harry: how to properly equip a kennel, how, what and when to feed and what vaccinations were needed... And which ones should already have been done, and it's better not to repeat them. Harry was writing everything down just in case.
Marjorie Dursley looked in surprise at her nephew scribbling concentratedly in a notebook. Well now, the boy turned out to be responsible!
"I think you should make a good master," she rumbled approvingly, putting her hand on his shoulder.
Harry ducked. He understood he'd received the highest praise from the avid dog breeder.
***
"Morning, Sirius!" Harry greeted him from the doorway. "Dudley's coming now, he's cooling down your porridge. That is, letting it cool."
Sirius barked as affectionately as possible and tried to lick his favorite boy's face.
"Hey, I already washed today!" the boy laughed, dodging.
After the dog licked his bowl clean, Dudley went to wash it—the guy quickly understood that the less dirty dishes dried, the easier it was. And Harry scratched Sirius behind the ear, causing incomparable happiness in the dog. And then he started pulling out vials, one after another... Many! And this is all for him?
"Well then, you've eaten, and to go for a walk, you'll have to drink. Here you have all sorts of different Polyjuices. To choose from! Here's a cat, here's a turtle, here's an iguana, you know, such a rare lizard. Flitwick found it. Here's a hamster, but I wouldn't advise it, you know yourself who our neighbors are, here's a budgie, here's a rat..."
Hearing the last word, the dog howled, fell flat and began shaking as if in convulsions, until in his place appeared that very man whom Dudley had shown him in the "news." Harry watched what was happening with round eyes, but still managed to feel for his wand. Just lucky that Snape had recently given him one of his spare ones and it fit perfectly.
"Rat! Rat!" the screams were terribly similar to barking; good thing Harry had managed to quickly throw up a silencing canopy (learned from Snape after that scandal in the yard), otherwise everyone would have come running now.
"Pettigrew! Traitor..." the man barked-whined, trying to get up, but not very successfully: his arms and legs almost didn't obey him.
"The alarms!!!" Harry realized, scooped up Black, managing to think how lucky he was that the man was so skinny, squeezed his left wrist and tumbled out right at the doors of the house on Privet Drive. And immediately understood the master wasn't home...
"Ah, well yes, he wrote that he'd be at the Headmaster's in the morning," Harry remembered.
Black had passed out during the transfer and now lay in an almost shapeless heap on the porch.
Harry quickly rose from his knees and began unraveling the professor's protection, more precisely, the place where his personal loophole was. He managed this in a couple of minutes. He opened the door, entered... and, straining properly, produced Levicorpus, dragging the unconscious Black into the house. And then carefully covered the loophole: just in case. And immediately sat down next to the man. He was shaking.
"I'm alone... no, if something happens, I won't manage," Harry thought, just in case tightly binding his godfather. "Who knows what will come into his head. I've already seen enough of his antics. And it's completely unclear what's in his head. It really sucks being alone!"
And he passed out, not even finishing the thought of how to call Snape. Or Flitwick. Though the notebook with Protean charms belonging to the house's owner lay almost exactly above his head...
***
Sirius Black came to first. Of course, he tried to get rid of the bonds, but in the state he was in, this, as it turned out, was a dead end. He looked around. Nearby were doors to a small but quite cozy room, representing something like a cross between a library and a living room. Dark shelves with books, soft yellow-greenish light from the curtained window.
The dark corridor behind his back was already poorly visible. Harry slept beside some nightstand, curled up in a ball right on the floor, snuffling, having put both hands under his cheek. His black hair had grown and no longer stuck out like in childhood, strands covered his face, and Sirius really wanted to move them away... His chest squeezed, and his eyes became hot.
A floorboard creaked, and Black started, but ground his teeth from helplessness: his godson's bonds held firmly. And before him stood Snape. And who he was to him now was hard to say. Especially after he shushed him in a whisper, carefully lifted Harry from the floor and settled him on the sofa, immediately placing a transfigured pillow under him and covering him with a blanket. And then pulled out his wand. Sirius tensed, and didn't believe himself. This simply couldn't be! But the bonds fell away. And Snape beckoned him with his finger to some adjacent room.
Black carefully got up, leaning on the wall and not really believing this unexpected freedom, followed him out and found himself in a cozy kitchen.
"Will you wash first or eat first?" they asked him, and this simple phrase strangely blew the rest of his brains...
His head went dark, some hammers started pounding, and he threw himself at Snape, knocking over everything in his path, but was immediately stunned, put under Silencio and firmly bound. But at least this finally resembled Snape's proper behavior. Now he'd hand him over to the Aurors. And it would all be over.
"Idio-ot," a familiar voice groaned, beloved to the point of pain, and he turned as best he could.
But this was even worse.
In the doorway, clutching the frame, stood Harry, cursing him, Sirius, in a weak voice... Wow, what the kid knew!..
"Mister Potter," he heard Snape's voice from behind his back. "To bed immediately, and don't get up until I bring a strengthening potion. Decided to drag an adult through your portal, at thirteen years old! You're no less an idiot than Black! Didn't read what an individual portal is? Or forgot everything at once?"
He rushed to Harry who was sliding down the frame, catching him in his arms:
"What are you doing, boy?! Rest. Everything. Will. Be. Fine. And on Privet Drive everything's in order too. Dudley wrote. In your notebook, imagine? So he's a squib in your family."
Harry sighed and buried himself in his shoulder, mumbling something. Sirius didn't believe his eyes, but the dog sense that remained almost as bright as in animagus form couldn't deceive: these two were together, these two were almost family to each other... He wanted to howl at the top of his voice, but a lump rose in his throat.
And Snape was again settling the boy on the sofa, judging by the sounds.
After which he returned to Sirius and looked so that a shiver ran through him. And then began in a quiet but furious whisper:
"You flea-bitten idiot, did you at least understand that Harry saved you? And collapsed from exhaustion himself? Just squeak at me here while he's sleeping, you stupid mutt. Wake him once more—I'll bury you, without even killing you, I'll bury you..."
"You..." Sirius croaked in response, trying to do it as quietly as possible. "You took my place! With Harry! You... You're guarding him. I should..."
"And where were you all these years, guard? What were you thinking when you left him alone, then? Yes, he needs protection, but from an honest and smart dog, not a hysterical half-wit under-dog... Now march and make yourself into a normal person! And on tiptoes, understand? Bathroom upstairs."
Sirius rounded his eyes.
Snape again pulled out his wand, aiming at Sirius. The bonds fell away, but he didn't put away the wand. Black looked in puzzlement first at Snape, then at his freed hands. He rubbed his wrists. Looked around. Habitually, dog-like, sniffed. Snape didn't take his eyes off him and, naturally, his wand. But he'd freed him. Again. Despite everything. This didn't want to fit in his head. Only one thing spun there, that his godson needed—needed!—"an honest and smart dog... and without hysterics..."
The house smelled pleasant. Of old wood, book dust, a little coffee and two, no, three people, two of whom were here, and the third... the third smell seemed vaguely familiar to him. Sirius looked at his hands again. He was human. It worked. How did this happen?
A wave of memories washed over, bringing shame and joy simultaneously. He gulped air with his mouth several times before he decided to speak.
"Snape... Do you have a Pensieve? I'll show you. It's very important."
Speaking was difficult, words pushed out like barking, but Snape understood him and brought a vial-memory collector. Sirius focused, and through the black wand a white-silver thread streamed into it.
"All?" Snape asked surprisingly... simply. And sealed the vessel.
Sirius didn't sense fear, malice, or enmity in his voice. Nothing. At all.
He asked for water. Snape calmly took a clean cup and filled it using Aguamenti. Black drank, feeling like he was in a dream. And went where he was told, completely not knowing what to think about all this...
He still remembered how he washed, clumsily shaved, cutting his face several times, but such a terrible mug looked from the mirror—he himself found it disgusting, and to appear before his godson in such a state... Where was his head? He sighed.
Dog sensations and memory were still very sharp, and he finally realized that for a long time he'd been balancing on the edge between human and animal: so long that perhaps only one step separated him from the fate of remaining a dog forever. And they were helping him return. Both Harry and... Snape, however crazy it now seemed to him to think about it. But he was still human. Which meant he'd find an explanation. He pulled with his nose and moved toward the house owner's scent. He wanted to understand, and for that he needed to ask...
His legs barely held him, and from weakness he sank into the nearest armchair. Or was it a sofa? Right now, he'd just rest a tiny bit, get up and go further. Just a little more... But his body was already curling up on the seat, obeying his many years' dog habit.
Sirius remembered nothing more. He woke up in some small room on a terribly uncomfortable sofa. But—as a human. And he absolutely didn't want to go back, he just felt uncomfortable.
He had to somehow live further. Figure out what was what in this world that seemed completely new and incomprehensible to him. He straightened his rumpled clothes and slowly, still swaying a bit from weakness, went downstairs. And immediately heard voices from the kitchen.
It smelled... It smelled so that his stomach cramped. The dog inside was ready to do anything just to be fed. The human held back. Today strength was on his side. The dog had only to submit.
***
"Sirius Black, in his own cut-up mug," Snape commented, but for some reason now this didn't seem offensive at all. More funny. Sirius grinned, appreciating the slowly appearing surprise on Snape's face.
He gestured to him to take a free chair. They... were inviting him to the table? Snape?
"So-o..." Harry leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms on his chest, and Sirius shuddered—the gesture was so Snape-like. "We'll cut and shave. After we heal the scratches. And fix his brain too... Oh! We'll take him to Mrs. Fields!"
"Who's that?" Snape raised an eyebrow, momentarily ahead of Black.
"That's our psychotherapist. Oh, you absolutely must meet her too! She's just super! Tea, Sirius? Serve yourself omelet! The scones have already cooled, you're quite the sleeper!"