Given the number of fics this category has, this might be an idea already done. But I'm not sure. Either way, I'll give it a go. The coming of the new book has inspired me to write. :)

Remember, I don't own anything even remotely Harry related besides books and merchandise. No rights. Dang.


Sirius could never remember feeling more exhausted, tired or depressed in his entire life. For months, months, absolutely everything seemed to be going wrong and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Voldemort's apparent passing was the only bright spot of light, but even that was tainted with the suspicion that he might not be as gone as the wizarding world hoped, and even if he was the Death Eaters were still out there. More importantly, that double-crossing bit of scum Peter Pettigrew was still out there.

The past few catastrophic weeks had left him in a dilapidated state, half-starved and angry, his best friend dead, his godson taken and his sense of direction utterly lost. He felt only slightly lucky to have escaped Azkaban; the rush of relief at not having Dementors casting their pall over him was tempered tremendously by the hunger and the cold he was feeling. He was still in his dog form, since turning back into a human was too risky just yet, and knew that he both looked and smelled hideously. He'd also, in his half-blind dash to get away from where any Ministry officials might be searching for him, managed to get himself disoriented and wound up in a dank wood.

Despondently, he tried shaking the water off of his matted fur as best he could and padded along in search of something to eat. The forest he was in felt as though it went on for miles and showed no signs of leading him anywhere very safe or warm. He managed to chase down a squirrel, despite being exhausted, and wolfed it down without allowing his more human side to feel revolted. He managed to get himself to the edge of the woods, staying under the canopy of branches to stop at least some of the downpour, before falling asleep hoping that the future would look ever so slightly brighter the next day. That seemed a dim prospect given the fact that he didn't even know where he was, where he was headed or who might be after him.

But at least the rain might have stopped.

Draco was only very dimly aware that something important was going on at Malfoy Manor. Given the level of attention he was receiving, he could not have known that the event was a birthday party for him, even if he had known what a birthday was and the fact that it was his. The reason he had no idea that he was shortly to be the center of attention was because his mother, in preparation to shower him with material goods, kept accidentally getting caught up in party details and inadvertently leaving him behind.

Thus it was that he was left at the edge of the forest where Narcissa has been considering placing a table for the less 'savory' guests when she suddenly remembered that she hadn't specified to the house elves how many layers she wanted the cake to be and disapparated in a rush lest they make one too small. Once in the kitchen, another issue about streamers had come up, followed by one about a problematic portrait, and so on, leaving Draco to toddle along by himself at the edge of the woods at a loss as to how to get back home.

It had rained heavily the previous evening so each step he took made a pleasant squish. The water had already started to leak into his socks and when he sank into a patch of mud, the ooze sucked at his shoes. He plopped down and with a few rudimentary pulls left them behind, smearing the back of his little black gown with grass and dirt. Now the water came up between his toes and felt pleasantly cool. He started to trot along more quickly, laughing as the grass tickled the bottoms of his bare feet.

Then, quite suddenly, he came upon something that stopped him dead in his tracks.

It looked, to a nearly two-year-old at least, like a mountain of black fur that was slowly rising and falling. It was curled up so he didn't recognize at first that it was a rather large dog. Fear and curiosity fought a brief battle before curiosity won out and he toddled up to it. He tentatively poked it, lifted its floppy ears up and put his hands on the dogs side.

At that point, Draco came to the abrupt conclusion that he was tired and a dog such as this was the perfect pillow to take a nap on. The trees provided shade from the climbing sun and he happily curled up beside the dog. He lay against Sirius' side in a fetal position and stuck his thumb in his mouth, sucking quietly as he fell asleep.

Sirius realized that something was out of place as soon as he woke up and felt a large, warm object pressing up beside him. He got to his feet slowly and noticed, of all things, a small, light-blond child sliding to the ground. He growled curiously, wondering how the child had gotten there. He was hoping that now that it had stopped raining, he might be able to find a place to get warm since the boy's presence meant that there had to be people living nearby. Given his outfit, there were likely wizards around as well. He'd have to be careful, but at least he might hear enough to know what was going on in his world.

Suddenly, the boy woke up. Sirius back up a few steps, not sure what the child would do – after all he was quite a large dog. To his relief, Draco grinned. To his consternation, he also ran up to Sirius and threw his arms around the dog's neck as best he could.


Ever since he learned that his name meant dragon, it had become Draco's favorite word. He never hesitated to use it, albeit in a slightly misspoken form, at any time, in any situation, to refer to anything. He called trees, pictures, tables, hats and spoons 'dragon.' He said 'dragon' when he wanted a drink or to be picked up or needed a change. He said it to the point where Lucius was quite seriously considering performing a minor memory charm on his son to make him forget he'd even learned the word.

"Dwaggy, Dwaggy, Dwaggy!"

Then, before Sirius could get over his shock at the reception or wriggle out of his grasp, Narcissa came running over, half-way hysterical.

"Oh Drakkie-kins, Mummy is so sorry, she only left you for a minute and though you'd stay put! Oh my poor little Drakkie, you could have fallen or gotten hurt… My goodness just look at that robe, and where are your shoes young man and what are you…

Oh my."

She stopped short when her fit stopped just long enough for her to realize what Draco was holding on to. She paled slightly and was trying to think of what to do so as not to aggravate the animal when Lucius apparated some yards away and walked up to her side.

"Did you find him?" He looked before she could respond. "I see you did. What on earth is that thing?" He muttered.

Narcissa remained speechless.

"Dwaggy!" Draco informed his father cheerfully.

Lucius sighed.

"Draco, release that animal at once. It's filthy and probably diseased. You need to come back to the house and get cleaned up. The party will be starting before long and guests will be arriving. Let that go and come with me."

Draco tightened his hold on Sirius, who mentally gulped when he realized just who's child this was. This boy was a Malfoy, the son of a Death Eater!

A Death Eater who no doubt entertained many guests. Many informative guests.

A Death Eater who had no idea Sirius Black was an animagus and might say anything in the presence of a simple mutt.

A Death Eater who right now seemed to be his only chance of a bath or a meal that wasn't raw.

While he was considering this, Draco was sticking his lip out and his eyes were watering. He was verging dangerously on the point of a tantrum.


"What?" Lucius frowned and gestured to his son. "Come along, we don't have the time for this."

"Wan' Dwaggy!" Draco's voice grew louder as he held the dog and insisted.

"DRACO!" He father commanded in a scolding tone that warned of trouble.

To the boy's advantage, his doting mother interceded.

"It…" She gulped. "It does seem quite tame…" She told her husband nervously. "And I suspect would look much better once we got it cleaned up… And it is his birthday," she finished, playing her trump card. "Surely, on this day…"

Lucius sighed and closed his eyes.

"Very well. He can keep the damn thing – until the moment it rips something up or does something to the carpets or anything like that. And it does NOT come anywhere near the guests until it is given a proper bath." He looked Draco in the eye. "You get your… whatever… for now but you had both best behave."

He then apparated away and Draco broke into a grin, sensing that he'd one. Narcissa held her hand out and took one of Draco's as the boy tugged Sirius with the other.


At least, Sirius thought, he was going to get a nice warm bath.

So… thoughts… like, dislike, leave comments below. Thank you.