Chapter Text
The clatter of footsteps echoed off the polished floors as commuters hurried to catch their trains, their conversations blending into a steady hum of blended voices. The sharp whistle of departing trains pierced through the air, accompanied by the rumble of engines as they pulled out of the station. Overhead, the electronic display boards flickered with train schedules and announcements. In short, it was the normal chaos one expected from a major urban train station. Except for the occasional adult in oddly colored robes and school-aged children carrying owls in cages, it was just another day at King’s Cross Station.
Harry stepped into the station's concourse and was enveloped in a sensory overload as he stood amidst the bustling crowd. The snippets of conversations, the scent of freshly brewed coffee, the smell of train exhaust, and distant food stalls-all these elements wove together to create a vivid explosion that he hadn’t prepared himself for after spending his remaining days in school in his bed recovering physically and mentally from the aftermath of the Triwizard Tournament.
Harry’s fist was balled up in the fur of his godfather’s animagus form as he walked toward his relatives, who were standing at the edge of the station’s entrance. Harry did not want to go back to Privet Drive. He couldn’t stomach the thought of being locked up in that house while Voldemort was back. While Cedric was dead. While Harry could still hear his father’s voice every time he closed his eyes. But Sirius had told Harry he wasn’t leaving his side. He’d be with him at the Dursley’s while the others secured a safe place for Harry to stay.
Harry was worried when he was in the Hospital Wing the night Voldemort came back, that Sirus would leave. Dumbledore had asked him to gather the old crowd, whoever they were, and “lie low at Lupin’s.”
“No, my duty is here.” Sirius had told Dumbledore, his hand heavy on Harry’s shoulder. “I will gladly help. You know I will. But Harry comes first, and he is more vulnerable than ever. Call Remus yourself and have him contact the Order.”
It was a tense and unpleasant moment, but ultimately, Dumbledore relented.
When they were alone at last in the Hospital Wing, after Madam Pomfrey had shooed everyone out, Sirius grabbed Harry’s face with both his hands and swore that whatever was to come, whatever danger was out there, Harry was going to be alright.
“Does this mean the war will start up again?”
Sirius took in a deep breath and looked out the tall window of the infamy. “Not officially. But it means the dark days will be here. People will be difficult to trust. Voldemort will want to finish what he started.”
Sirius's cool grey eyes turned back to Harry, filled with a distant pain. “I promise you, Harry. I will answer any questions you have. You deserve to know everything, especially after what you've been through tonight. I can’t offer you a place to live yet, but I won’t leave you. I won’t abandon you again.”
Sirius wasn’t going anywhere. Harry felt as if the soft, warm fur between his fingers, the reassuring nudge of Sirus's wet nose, and the rhythm of his godfather’s heartbeat were the only things preventing him from collapsing in a heap of terror on the cold, tiled floor of the train station.
Sirius was going to stay with him. He promised.
Uncle Vernon's gaze bore down on Harry as he approached. “Why is that filthy creature following you? Give it a good kick, and let’s be off. I don’t want to get stuck in traffic and miss the golf on the telly.”
Sirius growled beside Harry. Dudley shuffled his feet closer to Aunt Petunia, whose face was pinched so hard that Harry thought it would shatter like glass onto the floor of King’s Cross.
“He’s staying with me.”
“Absolutely not”
“Hello, Vernon! Lovely to see you again!” Harry hadn’t noticed Arthur Weasley's arrival by his side. Looking over his shoulder, Harry saw Mrs. Weasley and Ron standing with Ginny and the twins. Luggage trolleys piled high with their school things. Ron grinned and gave Harry a reassuring thumbs-up.
Vernon grunted in response, clearly not happy to see Mr. Weasley again, and left Mr. Weasley’s hand empty in mid-air, refusing to shake it.
“Yes, well, anyway,” Mr. Weasley continued, reaching into the pocket of his bomber jacket and bringing out a folded piece of paper. “This is for you.”
Uncle Vernon tried to grab it, but Mr. Weasley held it away from him. “My apologies. The letter is for Mrs. Dursley. I am under strict instructions that she be the one to read it.”
Aunt Petunia’s thin pale eyebrows lifted to her hairline as she accepted the letter from Mr. Weasley. Her lips were pursed tightly as she read the letter. At one point, she gasped, looked at Sirius standing beside Harry as a dog, and back at the letter again. After a moment where it seemed she was rereading the letter multiple times, she folded it back up and placed it in her tiny purse,
Her eyes snapped to Harry. “The dog is a man?”
Harry’s grip tightened on Sirius’ fur. “Yes, he’s my godfather.” He'd leave if they wouldn’t let Sirius stay in Privet Drive. He’d go to the Burrow, the Leaky Cauldron again, or the cave Sirius lived in while Harry was in the tournament. Harry was determined that the only way he would spend the summer in Little Whinging was if Sirius were with him.
Uncle Vernon spluttered indignantly, “Your godfather isn’t a dog. That is the most absurd -”
Harry interrupted him, frustration building, “No, he’s a wizard, you dolt. He can transform into a dog. You know, with magic. He’s on the run from our Ministry so he has to disguise himself.”
Aunt Petunia sniffed loudly and tried to push Dudley further behind her back as if her delicate, slender frame could protect her massive son from Sirius. “He will stay in your room.”
Harry blinked, hardly believing that he was getting what he wanted, “Okay.”
“The letter says he must stay as a dog while in Little Whinging. I also don’t want the neighbors thinking we are housing strange criminals.”
“They won’t even know he’s there.”
“I’m not feeding him.”
“Don’t worry about him. He takes care of himself.”
“He’s not to go near Dudley.”
“He’ll stay in my room.”
Aunt Petunia clicked her tongue and headed toward the car park. Once in the light of the London streets, Sirius ran circles around Harry and barked at the pigeons, making Harry laugh. It was the first time Harry smiled since the third task.
Sirius curled up below Harry’s feet in the car, his hot dog breath warming his feet as he closed his eyes and thought about how, for once in his life, it would be nice to have a person, someone almost like family, in the same home as him.