A/N: I named this fic off of a poem I wrote one time, I don't know exactly how well it fits but it was the best thing I could think of.

It just goes to show you,

Surprises are a part of life,

And to get to the pleasure,

You have to go through the strife.

Life isn't fair it never was,

And it never shall be,

But a purpose in this world

Is why we are here, you and me.

Opportunities fly by like the wind.

All sorts of chances… gone.

But with life and all its surprises

There are many more chances to come.

Disclaimer: Hmm… can't imagine why they'd call this fan fiction when I clearly own everything… oh yeah… I don't. Silly me.

Chances To Come

Chapter One

The White Dog

Seven-year-old Harry Potter strolled absentmindedly through the small park in Surrey. He knew he shouldn't be there, he knew that if he didn't head back to the Dursley's house soon they'd question him as to where he went. Uncle Vernon will ask anyway, he thought, though not bitterly. He didn't know why he'd come to the park, it seemed to him as if an invisible force were drawing him there. Magic, he said silently to himself; somehow even with his oppressive relatives, he still believed in magic.

He sat on a bench but nearly immediately stood back up, seeing a rustling in the bushes. Curiously, he peeked behind them and the sight that met his eyes appalled him.

What could a dog be doing here? Is he lost?

Harry caught himself staring at the small, off-white, pale-eyed dog, - Harry guessed it was of a large breed but not fully-grown yet - but the second he turned away he realized the dog was staring back. He looked at the dog curiously, and the dog mimicked his expression, best it could, as if both of them were having a silent conversation.

"Hello," said Harry finally.

The dog nodded slightly by way of greeting.

"Are you lost?" asked Harry.

The dog shook its head.

"Is your home here in Surrey?"

The dog shook its head again.

"You ran away?" said Harry gently, and he could have sworn he saw surprise in the dog's pale gray eyes as it nodded. "Do you want to come home with me then?"

The dog nodded again.

"We'll have to be quiet, okay? I don't know if my aunt and uncle will like you, we can just go into the backyard then I'll bring you some food."

The dog nodded with alacrity and Harry smiled.

Harry found that his immediate liking to the dog was mutual as he brought a small plate outside. He laid the plate down gently at the edge of the bushes and the dog poked it's small head out then started to eat the little bits of food on the plate. When it was done, it gave a small, barely audible yip and wagged its tail. Harry smiled and scratched the dog between its ears.

"What should I call you?"

The dog sat back a little and looked thoughtful then used its paw to draw a small picture in the dirt. Harry peered at it closely.

"A dragon…? You want to be called Dragon?" If dogs could smile, it would have, and it nodded. Harry didn't stop to consider how it knew what a dragon was or, moreover, how it knew to draw one.

"Alright then, Dragon. I'm Harry." Harry held his hand out and Dragon put his paw in his hand.

Over the next month, Harry continued bringing small bits of food out to Dragon and one day he came out and took a small sniff then cringed.

"Dragon, you need a bath."

Dragon looked horrified and ducked back into the bushes, just out of Harry's reach. Harry couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Come on, Dragon, you smell and I don't think Mrs. Figg will mind, she's got plenty of pets. Actually, they're all cats, you have to be nice to them, okay?"

Dragon gave him a look of innocence, but still stayed in the bushes.

"Come on! Please?" Harry pleaded.

Dragon shook his head. Harry pouted slightly and let his hand that was outstretched to Dragon fall to the dirt. Suddenly, he reached up and reached out a little further, catching Dragon by surprise. With a good yank, he had Dragon out of the bushes and trotting alongside him towards Mrs. Figg's house.

"It won't be too bad, I promise," Harry smiled reassuringly at the small dog.

Harry sneaked around into the backyard of Mrs. Figg's house then entered through the back door. "Mrs. Figg is taking a nap, so we have to be quiet," said Harry, putting a finger to his lips and tugging Dragon along and into the bathroom.

He drew the bath then set Dragon gently inside. Dragon whined softly, nuzzling Harry's hand. Harry smiled slightly, lathering up some shampoo then massaging it into Dragon's fur.

"There…" he said soothingly. "That's not too bad, right?"

Dragon shook his mangy head.

In less than ten minutes, Harry had Dragon bathed and toweled off. Dragon quivered for a moment then shook off, sending water splattering onto all four walls of the room, the ceiling, and the floor. He gave Harry an apologetic look then set down and let Harry resume toweling him.

After he was sure the dog could get no dryer from toweling, Harry sighed and stood up then looked around the dripping room. "Dragon, I'm gonna have to clean this…"

Dragon gave him another apologetic look then pushed him gently out of the room, shutting the door before Harry could come back in. In a second, a small boy took the place of the dog and he quickly locked the door then turned around and looked at the room. Harry will probably wonder how I managed this, but… I can't have him cleaning up after me. That's just not right.

The boy let out a small sigh and he hoped Harry wasn't listening through the door as he took out a thin stick and after waving it once and muttering something softly, the room became perfectly clean. The boy frowned. It's too perfect. He waved the stick again and a few splotches of water appeared, mostly on the ceiling. Better.

The boy smiled slightly, unlocked the door quietly, then turned back into the dog and picked up the towel with his teeth. He sat down on the floor and wagged his tail as Harry re-entered.

"Dragon, I really need to…" Harry never finished his sentence. He stared in awe at the bathroom, his emerald eyes wide. "How…"

Dragon gave one soft yip, wagging his tail again and dropping the towel into Harry's hands then trotting out.

Harry was rooted to the spot. When he finally regained the feeling in his legs he climbed up onto the countertop and scrubbed at some of the spots of water on the ceiling. Dragon, having realized Harry hadn't followed him, poked his head back in and if Harry had looked, he would have known what a scowling dog looked like.

Dragon sat patiently outside until Harry finished and gave him another apologetic look when he came out. Harry smiled fondly and scratched Dragon's ears.

"Come on, I'll take you back to Privet Drive. I'll be back later after the Dursleys come to get me from here."


Harry froze.

"Harry dear, where did the dog come from?"

"I found him, Mrs. Figg. I'm really sorry but he really needed a bath. He didn't bother any of your cats, I promise," Harry replied.

The kind old lady smiled. "It's fine, Harry. Relax. I was only curious."

The dog started to back slowly away but Mrs. Figg walked forward and laid a hand on him. "I've always liked all animals. I prefer cats, yes, but that does not mean dogs are not welcome. And if you're a stray, you must be hungry," she scratched Dragon's ears lightly. Dragon looked up and wagged his tail.

She led Dragon and Harry to the kitchen and pulled out some cat food and poured it into a small bowl then laid it in front of Dragon. Dragon went at it with alacrity.

"What about you, Harry?" asked Mrs. Figg.

"I'm fine," answered Harry.

"Child, you have never come over here without your stomach growling, I find that hard to believe. What would you like?"

Harry blushed. "I don't want to be any trouble, really."

"Not at all, I'm a bit hungry myself so I'll be fixing something anyway," Mrs. Figg replied, heading over to the pantry. "Now, let's see… Ah! I know you like chicken soup, I'll fix you a bowl of that, where did my crackers go?" She continued mumbling to herself as she searched through the shelves of her pantry and when the top half of her body reemerged from the pantry she was holding saltine crackers and two cans of soup.

With practiced ease, she prepared the simple lunch for both of them then set it on the table. "Eat, child," she said gently and Harry obeyed.

"Thank you."

Later, the Dursleys came to pick Harry up and Dragon was still there. Mrs. Figg saw the slightly agitated look on Harry's face and she leaned down and whispered in his ear, "I'll bring Dragon by later, I'll let him into the back, okay?"

Harry nodded, "Thank you, Mrs. Figg, for everything."

"You're most welcome, child, now go. Can't have you getting in trouble with your relatives." She gave Harry a small push out the door as Uncle Vernon laid on his horn. They never bothered to get out of the car.

Harry climbed silently into the backseat and gave one last sad look at Mrs. Figg's house as they drove off, he knew they were only going two blocks away, but he hated leaving Dragon. Mrs. Figg is bringing him later though, he mentally reminded himself and it comforted him a little.

When Mrs. Figg let the small dog into the backyard Dragon turned and nuzzled her hand a little, giving her a grateful look then he trotted off and laid down in the bushes to wait for Harry. He didn't come. Dragon inwardly shrugged it off and tried to go to sleep.

The next morning, Harry awoke with a start. He winced, rubbing his sore shoulder. He pushed feebly against the cupboard door, but it was locked. He had to get out; he had to go see Dragon, had to assure himself that the dream really was only a dream.

Oh, no… Dragon…

Harry swallowed past a lump in his throat. Dragon would probably be upset that he didn't go to see him. What if he left? Oh, no… please, Dragon, be there, I'll come… Harry sat back and started to form ideas to get out of the cupboard but, he realized to his dismay, none of them would work. Dragon…

Running the dream over in his mind, he tried to remember.

Dragon… he died. Harry choked back a sob at the thought. What happened, though? He seemed fine then suddenly… he was just gone. Wait… Harry's eyes widened as he remembered. Oh, no… Dragon… please be okay…


A/N: I know this is a bit short but oh well. Please review and tell me what you think. I was having a little trouble getting into the mind of a seven-year-old boy. Ack. Please tell me how I did with Harry, it's really hard and I hope I did alright. And that was a terrible place to end it, wasn't it? I'm sorry, I don't think it's too good of a sign for this story that I'm doing this badly with just the first chapter but it's not for lack of trying, I promise!

By the way, this is based off of a strange dream I had. I thought the plot line in the dream had really nice potential so I wanted to try it out. Feel free to tell me if it's just absolutely horrible, and it probably is, at least in my opinion. Feel free to tell me differently though too. ;-)

This story, I can guarantee, will be finished. I'm really sorry about my other story, Dangerous Love, I just had no idea where I was going with that one, but this one I know exactly how everything is going to play out, it's just getting those ideas into words.

Also, however much I love reviews, I don't think I'll worry too much about them, only one per chapter to call for an update. Now that doesn't mean that I will update THE DAY I get a review or anything, just that I don't need any more than that to motivate me. Just some proof that somebody is taking the time to read my pitiful excuses for a story.

Wow, this A/N got really long, I'm very sorry for boring you with this. I don't know if anybody actually reads these though anyway… but oh well. I only have one more thing to say.

Flames are not accepted. Constructive criticism is more than welcome, I prefer that over anything else, but if you are going to review just to say "it's crap" or something, it will be removed or, if signed, simply ignored.

That is all. Thank you so much for your time.

~Sabre Black.