Chapter Text
Harry's mind infuriated in thoughts, fear and rage. He didn't regret a thing he did, but now he was alone, pretty cold, and it was night. And nowhere to go. He had to stop by and think. He left his trunk on his right, and sat on the hard sidewalk. He noticed he had arrived to the park that Dudley and his 'friends' had named theirs. How funny, he thought, with sarcasm and a bit of anger.
Then, he felt a movement in the bushes right in front of him.
A pair of black eyes, then ears. A dog. A very big, black dog was looking at him right in the eyes. Harry got tense, and grabbed the wand. But right after, the dog made a sound between a bark and a cry, and started running to Harry energically wagging his tail. Harry immediately relaxed. He left the dog come nearer. The black canine was as high as Harry's stomach. He smelled pretty bad, was skinny and his fur was dirty. Harry felt his heart wreak for the poor thing.
The dog smelled at Harry's clothes once more, as if he couldn't believe his nose. Then he proceeded greeting him, running around him and then rolling with his belly up to get some rubs. Harry was laughing in a way he had forget he could, at least after leaving Hogwarts for the summer.
Then the street lamp turned off, and a cold wind started mulinating, making Harry stop laughing and close his hoodie for the cold. The dog had stopped playing, and looked at him, worried, with his head tilted.
Harry thought that he had just made his aunt a living hot-air baloon. How could a light charm be worse? He had just lifted his wand to try Lumos Maxima, when an enormous, bright purple treble decker bus appeared from nothing, sounded the Horn and stopped by him.
The black dog didn't seem to be bothered by it, while Harry almost left his wand fall for surprise. A young guy, probably eighteen or nineteen years old, was standing on the platform. Without even looking at him, he read from a piece of paper: 'Welcome to the Nightbus, emergency transporter for the stranded witch or wizard, my name is Stan Shunpike' Stan pointed at his badge 'and I will be your conductor for this evening'
Then the guy, Stan, distractly looked around, searching his passenger. He made an annoyed face looking at Harry when he found him.
'Why are you there down?'
'Uh, I fell down' answered Harry, giving a stroke to the black dog's head, who lovely sniffed at him while Harry got up again.
'And why did you fell down?'
Harry was getting irritated 'I didn't do it on purpose' muttered.
Stan was already getting bored, and told him to hurry getting on the bus, while he took Harry's trunk.
Then, while Harry had a foot on the step, Stan pointed at the big, black dog: 'And the dog?'
Harry looked at his new furry friend. A pair of shiny eyes looked at him with love and joyfulness. Even though he knew the skinny canine from just a few minutes, Harry knew he could have never abandoned him.
'He... Uh... is my dog. He comes with me'
Stan made a pretty harsh comment about dog hygiene and a collar, but he let both of them on, and asked Harry where he needed to go. Harry answered the only place with beds available he could think of. At the moment of printing the ticket, Stan asked him: 'So? Magical or Muggle?' Pointing back at the black dog.
'I-uh, what?'
Stan rolled his eyes, annoyed 'The dog, mate. Is Muggle or magical?'
Harry took a second to look at the dog. He looked perfectly comfortable on the bed of the Nightbus, actually looking around as he was enjoying the experience. Harry didn't have so much experience with dogs (besides Marge's dogs she specifically trained to bite him, but he didn't want to think about his acquired aunt in that moment. He could still hear her flying screams somewhere above them.
'He, well, I don't know. He's a foundling.'
Stan lifted his shoulders, and then gave Harry two tickets.
And then the Nightbus turned its motor on and the craziest run Harry ever took began.
'What you said your name was?' asked Stan distractly, from above a copy of The Daily Prophet.
'I didn't tell you. Who is that? That man?' Asked Harry, pointing at Stan's Prophet.
'You ask- You ask who is this? It's Sirius Black!' Screamed Stan, to be heard above the clang of the beds. Harry felt again as all these times in which he didn't know something basic about the wix world. It never missed to make him feel defective. 'He's a mass murderer. They even threw him at Azkaban for this'.
Then, the black dog (who had enthusiastically started jumping on the bed the second the run was started) cried in distress, pushing his head against Harry's shoulder.
Harry could learn about this Evil Wizard N. 134something, so he let the argument fall.
Finally, after the longest three minutes of Harry's life and at least two crashes on the glass of the Nightbus (Harry was astonished he still had all of his teeth) they reached The Leaking Cauldron. The black dog seemed to have regained his joyousness after that moment in which Stan had talked abojt that man on the Prophet. Harry didn't really know what to think. Probably Hermione would have had an answer.
Tom went to welcome him: 'Mr Potter! We were waiting for you and... and your pet. Mr Potter, I didn't know you had another pet! What's his name?' Asked him Tom, taking Harry's trunk.
Harry looked at the black dog, panicking. You would think that having CPTSD from childhood trauma made you good at lying, but Harry was awful at thinking under pressure. So he told the first thing it came up to his mind.
'Uh, he's Black' he said, and Black jumped around, apparently glad of his name.
Tom's eyes opened as two coins, and almost let Harry's trunk fall: 'Y-you mean Black like... like Sirius Black?'
'No!' Screamed Harry. Why was anyone so obsessed with this Sirius Black that evening? 'Because his fur is black'
Tom seemed very relieved, and led the two in without a word. Harry put a hand on Black's back before entering. He had this bad sensation in his stomach that couldn't get rid off.