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“Ugh,” Sirius grimaced at the leash in James’s hand. “Is this not degrading enough without having to wear such a butt ugly leash?”
James made a harrumphing noise of disagreement. “Red nylon is a classic. And this is exactly what we became Animagi for, remember?”
“It really is outrageous just how raw my end of the deal turned out,” Sirius complained. “You get an adorable puppy to charm all the girls and I end up with a ‘pet' stag? How is that fair?”
“We become what we become, Pads,” James said with a shrug. “I can’t help that I’m such a majestic spirit that it carried over into my other form. You know if it ever manages to come in handy I’ll be there helping you in a heartbeat.”
Sirius did know. Huffing a sigh, he melted into his dog body and let James slide a simple leather collar onto his neck.
“There’s a good grim,” James cooed. “Who’s my good demon dog?”
Padfoot growled.
*~*~*
Fuck, Padfoot thought as he took a detour from the halfhearted game of fetch James had engaged him in to roll down a gentle slope of grass, but this is taking so long.
Truthfully, Sirius had never really believed that he would have to use his Animagus form for this reason.
It had started off as a lark, the decision to learn the transformation, when James and Sirius were in junior high. While attending their own locally elite prep school, they had learned of the great Wizarding school of Uagadou and its world-renowned Transfiguration program, in which students were guided through the Animagus process in their early teens.
It had started off as a lark, but fuelled by hubris and hormones, it became something much more: how impressive would it be for James and Sirius to learn and successfully complete the Animagus transformation entirely on their own, without a helping hand from any adult? (More specifically: James had seen how the pretty scholarship student Lily Evans practically swooned at the video of the tall, handsome boy who grinned toothily at the camera before throwing his head back and morphing into a powerful leopard, and decided he could somehow evoke that reaction himself even if Lily never showed him anything but disdain when he grinned at her.)
A few mere hours of research later, common sense kicked in. To undergo the Animagus process without proper permits and licensing, while underage, was very illegal, and therefore not something they could very well brag about.
But then the hubris and hormones won out, or more accurately, teenage bullheadedness did. James and Sirius had got the idea into their heads, and so it would be done — if for no other reason, then for their own satisfaction. Besides, they reasoned, dogs were by far the most common animal for American wizards, and having a preternaturally smart, friendly dog could never be anything but an asset when trying to win over a pretty girl, right?
Then James had turned out to be a fucking elk, and they had both turned out handsome, smart, funny and charming enough that they didn’t need to rely on any other gimmicks, so it really did end up being something they saw through for solely their own satisfaction.
At least until college, that was.
See, the thing about achieving the absolute pinnacle of practical Transfiguration before you were old enough to vote was that it really took the mystique out of the subject. That was why James Potter and Sirius Black, known prodigies at the subject, had shocked all their classmates and counsellors when they chose not to pursue it in their post-secondary studies.
Granted, James Potter and Sirius Black were brilliant at every subject, but there had always been a special sparkle to their Transfiguration.
They had instead decided to major in Potions, and while it was never the best subject for either of them, they handily gained admission to the most exclusive program in the country for it: the far-flung Stanfield, in sunny California.
Their families had been supportive of the move, because the Potters were supportive of everything James did and because the Blacks, while they would have preferred Sirius continue the family tradition of Ilvermorny for undergrad or at least another Snakewood League school, still agreed Stanfield was sufficiently brag-worthy, even if it was, much to their distaste, on the West coast.
(But make no mistake, his mother had warned, holding his chin so tight her impeccably manicured thumb left a crescent in his skin, you are in for a reckoning if you do not get into Ilvermorny Law. And I’d rather not have to donate another building for you to do it, darling.)
Sirius should have expected Lily Evans. While he’d not kept up with her comings and goings after she and her family moved to Ohio the summer after eighth grade, it was clear even back then that she was a tour de force at Potions. He should have expected that she’d attend Stanfield.
In his defence, however, Sirius did not think anyone would have foreseen James Potter’s regression to the obnoxious, bumbling middle schooler he had once been as soon as he was reintroduced to her presence. Gone was the winsome, popular young man he had been for every other girl he’d dated the last four years, and suddenly James was a gormless fool who could not string together two sentences without inadvertently offending Lily. And perish the thought of James Potter thinking about any girl other than Lily when she was in his proximity!
So it was that Sirius was called upon to fulfil his best friend duties by acting as man’s best friend. Reconnaissance (social media stalking) had revealed to James that Lily worked at a local Magbob coffee shop, so he planned to ‘run into her’ as she took her customary post-work stroll through the park, with Padfoot in hand to act as social lubricant.
“Padfoot,” James called. When Padfoot returned to him, he hooked the ugly red leash back onto the collar and gave him a pat on the head. “I see a redhead in the distance. Operation Puppy Love is a go,” he whispered.
James stood straight and began strutting with his chest puffed out, whistling a jaunty tune.
Padfoot rolled his eyes as best he could in this body and trotted alongside him.
James’s steps faltered for a moment, and Padfoot looked up to see that Lily was not alone.
Padfoot couldn’t really assess human attractiveness the way Sirius could, but even he could tell the other boy was pretty. He was slender, a few inches taller than Lily herself, and had the bluest eyes Padfoot had ever seen, vivid even to dog eyes. He looked down at Padfoot and smiled sunnily, and Padfoot felt his tail begin to wag.
“Lily, my dear!” James greeted, emboldened by the reminder of Sirius’s presence. “Top of the morning to you!”
What the fuck, Sirius thought, Are we British now? Is that what’s happening?
Lily blinked at him. An awkward silence stretched on. “Hello, James,” she finally said, flatly. She looked down at Padfoot and wrinkled her nose.
“Now where are my manners!” James cried, now sounding vaguely Georgian, and pressing the palm of his free hand to his head. “This is my dog, Padfoot! He’s very friendly, aren’t you, boy?”
Padfoot barked once for yes.
“Would you like to pet him?”
“No thank you,” Lily refused. She lifted a cone of ice cream to her lips and gave it a short lick. “I’m more of a cat person.”
“Oh, me too, actually,” James agreed, finally back to his normal crisp Midatlantic accent.
“Then… why did you get a dog?” Lily asked.
“Oh, well, he,” James stuttered, shifting his weight between his feet. “He’s a rescue!” he finally decided. “Yeah, they were gonna put him down. He’s so big, you know? It’s expensive as hell to keep this guy fed and most people were a little terrified of him because he’s sort of monstrous looking in the face.”
Wow. Wow. Fuck you too, James.
“Aww, no! Don’t say that,” the boy protested. He shoved his own ice cream cone into Lily’s hand and squatted down, holding out a closed fist in front of Padfoot’s nose. “You’re the beautifulest boy in the whole world,” he promised.
No, you, Padfoot thought now that he got to see the boy up close. His hair — Padfoot still couldn’t tell the colour — was an artfully messy halo of almost-curls that fell around those big blue eyes, which held an incredible depth of kindness. His thin lips were a perfect cupid’s bow that made Padfoot desperately wish to turn back to Sirius so he could kiss them, Animagus laws (and possibly the International Statute of Secrecy) be damned.
He tamped down on that desire and instead took the affection that was offered, stepping forward to sniff the hand.
Immediately, Padfoot was hit with a wave of what Sirius could only describe as euphoria, and which Padfoot could only describe as GOOD.
This boy’s hand was the most incredible thing Padfoot had ever smelled in his life. The first whiff was simple sugar and vanilla, but when Padfoot breathed again it was something indescribable. It was pine needles and fresh mulch and perfumed darkness and silvery moonlight and something else, something that was at once reassuringly safe and ferociously wild.
The hand moved away to dig into the thick fur of Padfoot’s ruff, and it felt incredible, but Sirius hardly cared. He needed more of that scent.
Padfoot surged forward — and perhaps he was too forceful, if James’s shouts and Lily’s startled cry were anything to go by, but the boy giggled as he was knocked clear on his back, so Sirius figured it was fine — and pushed his snout into the crook of the boy’s neck, skimming up to the corner of his jaw. The scent was even more potent there, and the boy was stroking over Padfoot’s sides in a way he’d never experienced before but now decided was the method he liked best.
“I guess you are a monster,” the boy gasped between laughter. “A great big cuddle monster!”
Oh, he was beautiful and punny. This boy was perfect.
Padfoot gave him a thank you lick, which brought with it the absolute revelation that somehow the boy tasted even better than he smelled. Padfoot decided he was never moving from this spot.
Alas, it was not to be, for James, the traitor, chose that moment to tug at Padfoot’s leash. “All right, boy,” James said, sounding strained. He forced an awkward, breathy laugh. “I think that’s quite enough.”
Padfoot whined but did not resist when James took hold of his collar and gently pulled him away.
“I am so sorry about him,” James apologized. “He’s never done that before.”
Padfoot sat down and gave his friendliest doggie grin, tongue lolling out from the side.
“It’s all right,” the boy assured. He stood back and rather uselessly swept the backs of his thighs with his hands, as if that would do anything for the grass stains on his pants. “I get that a lot,” he said with an odd little smile, like there was some inside joke he didn’t understand.
Padfoot wanted to be in on the joke, on every joke, wanted to share a million new ones with this boy so he could share the secret smiles too.
The boy glanced back at Lily, then did a double take. The smile melted off his face. “My ice cream!” he cried in dismay.
Lily, now holding two mostly eaten cones, shrugged. “It was melting,” she explained, without a spot of shame.
The boy pouted. Padfoot barked at James, trying to communicate that he ought to buy the boy a new ice cream. Then they could all sit together and the boy would probably give ear scritches and let Padfoot rest his head on the boy’s thigh.
“You work at the ice cream parlour, Remus,” Lily insisted. “This was your third cone of the day. You only got it because you insist on eating all the orders you get wrong.”
Remus — his name was Remus! His name was Remus and he worked at the ice cream parlour, of course he worked at the ice cream parlour, he looked exactly like the sort of person to work at an ice cream parlour — heaved a great sigh. “Maybe so,” he conceded.
“I have a cheese croissant in my bag if you want,” Lily offered. “It’s only mostly stale.”
“I’d like that.”
Lily pulled a white paper bag out of the pocket of her bag and tossed it to him. He caught it easily and gave her a two finger salute. “Ah, I’ve got a study group,” he said, looking down at his wristwatch. “See you tomorrow, Lils. It was nice to finally meet you, James!” He bent down to rub a palm over the top of Padfoot’s head. “And I especially hope to see you again, Padfoot!” With that, he left.
“I’ve gotta jet too,” Lily rushed out. “Okay, bye!”
James and Padfoot meandered over the hill to a secluded spot behind some bushes where Sirius immediately shifted back and ripped off the leash.
“Did you see that? Did you hear that!?” James asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning from ear to ear. “He was so glad to finally meet me! That means she talks about me! And then she blushed!”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s all great,” Sirius agreed. “But can we talk about Remus?”
“Yeah, that was not cool, man,” James scolded, suddenly sobered. “Why were you all over him like that?”
Sirius clapped a hand on James’s shoulder and looked him square in the eye. “Because he smells like a sexy avenging angel, James, and I am going to marry that boy. We’re adding a second leg to Operation Puppy Love.”