The Hidden Tails of Harry and Draco

A/N: My first H/D fic. Go easy on me!

Warnings: Includes animagus. And slash. And pornz. Not all at the same time though.

Many thanks to Sapphirescribe for keeping me on task while writing this one, to TwilightMundi for betaing so beautifully, to Savannah-Vee and Fr333bird for assisting me with Brit-speak, and to ArcadianMaggie for prereading and her endless and epic support.

Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc., mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express authorization.

It wasn't as though Harry was unhappy with his life.

He loved his job as an Auror, and he certainly loved his boyfriend, Draco.

He just needed a bit of an escape, that was all. Being The Boy who Saved Everyone from Everything was a lot of pressure. There was nothing wrong with craving a bit of freedom once in a while, was there?

No, there was not, Harry decided, turning to Draco across the breakfast table.

"I'll have to go away this weekend," Harry said, picking up his toast. It was very nearly the truth. He did have to; his mental health demanded it.

Draco looked up from his newspaper. "Oh?"

"Yes. I have... err... an Important Auror Conference. In Mosco—Paris. In Paris."

That was not the truth, which is why Harry stumbled a bit. He prayed Draco wouldn't notice.

Draco did, but he ignored it for reasons unbeknownst to Harry.

"Shall I come along then?" Draco simply asked.

"Err—no. That's okay. It won't be much fun. Lots of work, you know?" Harry forced a grimace, then quickly looked away at his tea, thereby missing the obvious look of relief that swept across his boyfriend's face before Draco managed to school his features.

"If you're sure then," Draco said.

Harry nodded and tried to bite back his grin as he chewed a rather large bite of toast. The weekend was near and the taste of freedom went well with his wheat bread.


It wasn't as though Draco was unhappy.

He loved his job as a Master Potions Researcher (well, perhaps he'd added the Master bit himself, but he thought it fit quite well, thank you), and he had rather amazing hair.

He also loved Harry, of course, but there was a lot of pressure being the ex-Death Eater (with the "ex" underlined thrice) boyfriend of The One who Blah Blah Blahed. Was it any wonder he needed a bit of an escape from the glares and stares and hexes every once in awhile?

Certainly not, Draco thought, as he prepared to see Harry off to his Important Auror Conference.

Before leaving, Harry turned back to Draco as he buttoned his coat, puckering his lips so Draco could kiss him goodbye.

Harry grinned after Draco did that very thing. "I'll miss you."

Draco smirked. "Go on, you git."

When Harry finally shut the door, Draco dashed up the stairs to their bedroom. The first step toward freedom was getting completely naked.


Harry Apparated straight to the Ministry, shut himself in his office, hung up his coat, and promptly took off his trousers.

Unfortunately, he tripped and fell to his knees when his Muggle jeans caught on his shoes in his haste to undress, but his location on the floor could hardly bother him considering he'd be spending the next few glorious days in a rather similar position.

Sitting back on his haunches, he pulled off his shoes and socks, finished taking off his trousers, and peeled his shirt and robes over his head. With a final glance at his shut door, he whipped off his pants and added those to the pile of clothing before shoving it all in his suitcase stashed under his desk.

After tucking his wand and glasses into his desk for safe keeping, Harry was finally ready.

He closed his eyes and very carefully recited the words Hermione had taught him on one extremely drunken Friday evening.

When a shaggy grinning Bernese Mountain Dog with a white zigzag on its furry forehead trotted out of Harry's office a few minutes later, no one paid it any mind; late on Friday afternoons most government employees were eager to overlook all things Potentially Peculiar or Problematic, and Harry was thankful that day was no exception.

Revelling in his anonymity, Harry yipped with glee as he emerged from the Ministry before heading off in the direction of No Longer Harry and Someone's Cooking Sausages.


Draco stretched luxuriously as he stared at himself in his full length mirror. He'd just finished grooming, and Merlin, he was gorgeous. Slender with muscular thighs, a distinguished snout, and a white blond coat that had just enough volume—he was the model of a proud purebred Akita Inu.

Of course, he hadn't set out to discover his animagus form; it had all happened quite by accident. He'd found the scrap of paper on Harry's desk one Saturday morning and had unconsciously read the words aloud as he tried to translate his boyfriend's terrible handwriting. It was hardly Draco's fault he was such a powerful wizard that merely saying the words had triggered his first transformation.

He had panicked at first—any wizard would have—and had backed into the corner whimpering with his snout on the ground and his paw over his eyes. But once Draco had calmed down enough to think matters over, he realised the logic behind the wandless spell. An animal couldn't exactly wave a wand to change back, now could it?

In a moment of brilliance (of which he had loads), Draco commanded his canine body to revert to its human form by inverting the original order of the words.

It worked like a charm.

From that point on, Draco was human again. But only when he wanted to be.

The following day, after he'd been subjected to some particularly vicious taunting while he'd been shopping, Draco started to imagine how good it might be to be a dog once in awhile. When he went home, he transformed again, just for a few minutes, while Harry was in the shower. He did it again the next day. And again the day after that. He even did it once in the bathroom at the Weasley's one evening when he couldn't handle another of Ron's bloody jokes. (Luckily, his robes had covered up the significant hole he'd accidentally torn in the backside of his trousers with his tail.)

Draco was hooked.

He'd firecalled in sick later the following Thursday and spent an entire day in Diagon Alley, wandering about without anyone staring at him crossly or hexing him or kicking him in the shins. Not a single person glared at the lone spot of black fur on his front left leg, and a few people even petted him on the head. He wasn't so crass as to lick them in gratitude, but he permitted them to worship him, as he knew his beauty was hard to resist.

So when Harry had informed Draco the following week about the Important Auror Conference in Mosco—Paris, Draco had been pleased to overlook his boyfriend's geographic ineptitude. It meant Draco had an entire weekend to spend in his animagus form.

Now that Harry had finally gone, Draco gobbled down the plate of bacon he'd had Kreacher put out for him, then bounded down the stairs to the front door to stretch his legs and teach the neighbour's cat a thing or two.


Draco put down his journal and looked at Harry who was passing by the door to his study. "Harry? Mother owled asking if I'd visit the Manor next weekend. She'd like some help changing some of the wards. You won't mind if I go, will you?"

Harry popped his head in. "That's great! Err. Fine. Completely fine. You should go. Your mother needs you. I'll be fine here. Completely fine." In addition to being fine while Draco was away, Harry would most certainly be a dog. What Draco didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Good. I'll owl her in the morning." Draco nodded once and returned to his copy of Akita World. It had been a few weeks since he'd found the opportunity to turn canine, and he sorely missed it. What else could he do but invent a faux Manor visit? Luckily, Harry didn't seem to mind in the least.

"Great. I mean, fine. That's... fine..." Harry trailed off as he headed out of the room, grinning. He made a mental note to pick up some additional tennis balls before the following weekend. He'd quickly learned that if he took one to the Muggle park, there was usually someone more than willing to play catch. It was almost as good as catching a snitch.


Harry ran. His legs pounded over the earth, more graceful than he'd ever been on two legs. The wind in his face was glorious, and it reminded him of flying, reckless and carefree and wonderful. But this . . . it was his own strength, his own hind legs that were powerful enough to carry him racing across the earth, along roads and through fields, into gardens and muddy puddles and anywhere else he wanted to go. No one paid him any mind and no one expected him to be heroic. If he wanted, he could chase kittens into trees instead of rescuing them.

And the things he could see!He could see (and hear, and smell) for miles! He could see that beetle flying way over there on his left, and that child searching for bogeys and wiping them on his... well, Harry supposed, he didn't need to see everything. He barked his disapproval, and changed course, pausing only when he found a tree that begged to be marked, because, Merlin, did he have to pee after drinking all that pond water.


Sure, Draco's tongue hung out of his mouth when he wasn't careful and he gave the occasional inelegant woof. And perhaps there was some excess saliva involved. But gods, did Draco love being a dog.

Everyone loved him. He was accustomed to being ignored at best, more frequently despised. But not in his animagus form. No, he thought gleefully, posturing so his tail curved attractively along the elegant lines of his back, like this, even people who hated him loved him.

He pranced around the park coquettishly and allowed his followers to flock to him.


Harry scratched behind his ear absently. "I'll have to work in...err...Canada. Very Remote Canada. Somewhere north of...err...South Canada. For, four days."

"That's fine. I should visit with Pansy."

"See you Tuesday night then?"

"Of course."

"I love you."

"I suppose I love you as well then, don't I?"



Harry and Draco grinned at each other and went back to their previous activities, each completely unaware the other was daydreaming of peeing on the very same lamp post that he was.


Draco nodded at the Muggle delivering the post and stopped once or twice to sniff the ground and bark at a squirrel that dared cross his path as he headed straight for his favourite Muggle park. He didn't have a lot of time; Harry would be back from Edinburgh and his Ministry Team-Building Overnight Extravaganza of Fun in a few short hours.

When he arrived at the park gates, however, he knew immediately that there was a problem. A giant, slobbery, messy fellow pooch of a problem.

Draco made no attempt to hide his disgust as he watched the other dog. The brown haired, shaggy git was running in giant circles around a large oak tree, his tongue hanging fully out of his mouth, except when he chose to pause, bark at absolutely nothing, and then turn and run in the opposite direction around the same tree, with absolutely no regard for the spectacle he was making of himself.

It was absurd.

Drawing his head up haughtily and trotting over to his usual place by the water fountains, Draco tried to ignore the ridiculous antics of the nearby mutt. Unfortunately, his usual band of admirers were also distracted by the other dog, and only a few came over to pet and praise Draco.

That was something Draco simply couldn't abide.

Rolling his eyes, Draco started to head over to the other dog, intending to step directly into the its path and force the creature to recognise how severely he was embarrassing himself.

Except that all of a sudden Draco heard a voice call out words that made his blood run hot.

"Fetch, boy, Fetch!"

Draco turn and saw a ball—no, not just aball, but hisball. His bright green tennis ball, one of the ones Harry had bought a few weeks back!—as it was thrown across the park by some woman. He quickly examined the trajectory of his toy, and without a moment's hesitation, shot off toward it.

He wasn't the only one. The stupid brown dog had abandoned his tree and was racing beside him. Draco glanced at it with disgust and ran faster. That ball was his, and he had absolutely no intention of sharing with the idiot who was chasing after him.

No, not after him, after histoy! And, worse, the prat was taking the lead!

Draco snarled, and in a last desperate attempt to snag the prize first, leaped into the air to catch the tennis ball as it fell. The other dog leaped too.

For a moment, Draco was reminded of when he and Harry had chased the snitch together in school, racing against each other, flying through the air, arms outstretched in an effort to snag the little golden winged—


Draco felt his body collide with the other dog's mid-air as they crashed into each other and fell to the ground tussling and barking at each other, while the tennis ball rolled away on the ground, forgotten. Draco might have been gorgeous, but he wasn't afraid of getting his paws dirty when occasions warranted.

They rolled around in the dirt, nipping and shoving their paws in each other's faces until they were both exhausted, lying on the ground in a panting heap. Draco tried to ignore that both of their tails were wagging. It wouldn't do to have a companion like the crazy, not to mention poorly groomed, canine beside him.

Still, when Draco glanced over at the pooch, he couldn't help but smile at the other dog's big goofy grin and bright green eyes.

Draco rolled on his back and looked up at the sky while the sun warmed his belly. He'd get his ball later, he supposed. If he was a little late getting home, Harry wouldn't mind. He'd also have to remember to snag one of those tennis balls Harry had bought next time he came to the park. That whole fetching thing was fun.


"I've been called to go to Paraguay to procure a rare herb..."

"Charlie needs help with a dragon..."

"Zabini requires my presence next month..."

"I've got to..."

"Need to..."

"Will be away..."

"Gone through Sunday..."



"Southwestern East Dakota..."

"Love you."

"Love you."


Life was good. Harry and Draco adored each other. And while Hermione raised her eyebrow at Draco's absences and Ron wondered why he was never invited to Very Important Conferences in Sweden or Beijing or Northeastern West Dakota, Harry and Draco trusted each other and were even more grateful to see each other after their occasional time apart.

In fact, it wasn't until they were enjoying a casual pint or three at a Muggle tavern one evening that their secrets first showed signs of unravelling.

It all started when Draco nearly choked on his drink when Harry peered at him through his thick glasses and questioned why he was sitting so oddly in his chair. (Malfoys didn't actually choke, but a near miss wasn't beyond the realm of possibility.)

After taking a moment to clear his throat, Draco used a tactic well known by Those Trying To Locate Their Dignity: playing dumb. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked as he realised that he was, in fact, seated in a rather canine-esque position. He wondered vaguely when doing so had become second nature.

Harry looked at him, brow raised. "Well, you're sitting with your feet up on the seat with your arse, aren't you?"

Draco attempted a haughty look. "I don't know how you were taught to sit by those Muggles..."

Harry sighed. "Seriously, why are you sitting like that? Oh, wait. It's not because of last night, was it?"

"No!" Draco hissed, horrified that Harry would reference their intimate activities in front of the other Muggle patrons.

"I was a bit rough though, wasn't I?" Harry mused, scratching the back of his neck thoughtfully.

"Gods, Harry!" Draco interrupted, switching tactics to one favoured by those Trapped in a Corner by a Suddenly Observant Boyfriend: changing the subject. "I'm fine. I do wonder, though, why you're regularly scratching behind your ears lately. Shall I contact St Mungo's to set up an appointment for you?" Draco set down his drink. "Fleas, perhaps?" He forced a chuckle.

It was Harry's turn to look horrified. He quickly sat on his paws...errr, hands. "I don't have fleas, you git!"

Draco smirked, downed the last of his pint then stood up. "I'm going to go to the loo before we head out."

Harry gulped his down as well and followed after Draco, their topic of conversation already forgotten. And thanks to the pints, it remained that way even when Harry glanced over at Draco in time to see his boyfriend had one leg lifted slightly in the air as he took care of business at the urinal.

In fact, Harry was so confused by Draco's stance that he never realised he did the very same thing moments later.


The following Saturday was exceptionally beautiful, so Harry and Draco decided to go for a W-A-L-K. (Draco had no idea why he spelled it to Harry when he suggested it, but then, Harry got so excited at the idea that Draco decided not to analyse it too closely.)

When they passed by the park near their home, Harry tugged his boyfriend to the nearest bench where they sat down to watch the others similarly enjoying the lovely weather.

It didn't last long.

"I'm bored," Draco announced after quickly scanning the playground. He wasn't interested in watching germ-laden Muggle children play on the swings.

Harry sighed. "Do you want to go?"

"Well, it's not like we have a ball to toss around," Draco pointed out.

Harry was ready to point out that they'd never come to the park to throw a ball around before, but quickly stopped when he realised he was quite disappointed about it himself.

"By the way, I bought a whole bunch of new tennis balls a few weeks ago and now they're all gone." Harry pushed his glasses up on his nose and resisted the urge to scratch behind his right ear. "Do you know where they went?"

Draco's eyes snapped back to Harry's from the tempting lamp post he'd previously been admiring. "I used them. To throw. At...Muggles. In self defence. It was dark," he lied quickly, if not terribly effectively. "Next time put your name on them if you don't want to share," he added haughtily.

"I didn't...that's not... Never mind." Harry rolled his eyes. He'd learned to pick and choose his battles.

After a moment Harry looked at Draco who was on the verge of pouting.

Harry frowned. "It's too bad though, isn't it? That we don't have a ball? To play catch?"

Draco nodded.

"I wonder..." Harry trailed off.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Well, perhaps we could throw something else instead," Harry said, eyeing a spectacular stick lying on the ground a few metres away.

Draco followed his gaze. "You want to throw a stick?"

Harry realised he very much did. So did Draco, but he wasn't about to admit it.

"You want to play catch with a stick?" Draco asked again, as loudly as possible, so everyone would know it wasn't his idea.

Harry shrugged. "Err, yeah."

"Well then, I suppose we shall have to throw around that stick," Draco nodded, the speed with which he stood up belying his attempted nonchalance. He smoothed his clothing while an extremely eager Harry fetched said stick.

Harry and Draco had such a good time playing catch, they left the park too late to stop and purchase additional tennis balls on the way home. They agreed they'd just have to use a stick again the next time, but, then, neither of them minded in the least.


Harry was racing around the playground in canine form with a Frisbee in his mouth when he saw the snooty white dog prance in.

He wondered if the other animal would want to play. After the first incident with the tennis ball, Harry had seen the other dog several times, and after a few rough starts, they'd become good pals. They had such fun together chasing birds and squirrels, and Harry appreciated that the other dog was so smart; even limited to barking they were able to map out complicated strategic missions to corner cats and steal food from the sausage vendor in the park. It was such fun, causing the man to rant and rave until he was purple in the face while the two of them ran away with his Italian sausages. And it was nice to have help marking all the trees in the neighbourhood too. There was only so much pond water Harry could drink, after all.

Yes, Harry liked the fancy dog a lot, with his wise grey eyes that sparkled when the dog forgot to make sure they didn't.

Harry decided to trot over and say hello. When he approached, the other dog nodded in greeting and cocked his eyebrow.

Harry knew just what that meant. It was time to get to work. He put down his Frisbee and walked over to a nice dry patch of ground where he began to draw lines in the dirt. The other dog nodded as he watched, adding his own marks with his perfectly pedicured toenails until they had an elaborate plan for sneaking vanilla soft serve ice cream from the stand near the rugby field.

They grinned at each other, and Harry was so excited he couldn't sit still. After giving a happy woof or three, the other dog seemed satisfied with their plan and they set off.

As it turned out, they hadn't quite taken into account the need for thumbs to work the ice cream machine (Harry tended to forget he didn't have them until too late), but due to some quick thinking on the other dog's part, they still managed to make off with one large cone. Afterwards, the white dog carried their prize gently in his mouth back to Harry's Frisbee, which he flipped upside down with his paw and used as an impromptu bowl for the tasty vanilla treat.

Harry could swear the dog winked at him as he nosed the dish towards Harry as an offering, and then they both dug in and shared the sweet, sugary heavenly goodness.

Later, they washed it down with some pond water, then set off to pee on whatever struck their fancy.


Harry snuggled into Draco's arm as they sat together on the sofa. "I'm kind of in the mood for ice cream."

Draco nodded and summoned Kreacher. "I could do with a treat myself. Can we get chocolate this time though?" he asked Harry as their house elf popped into the room.

Startled, Harry glanced up. "Err, sure." Had Draco also had vanilla ice cream recently?

After Kreacher ran off to gather the requested dessert, Harry nudged Draco. "This time? Was there a lasttime then?"

Draco's eyes went wide and his mind raced. "Well, I should think it would be my turn to request the flavour," he said defensively, trying to cover his slip. "We always get the flavours you like," he said confidently.

Harry started to point out it was Draco who selected nearly every aspect of their meals, desserts included, when Kreacher reappeared. Harry quickly lost his train of thought in the presence of such a tremendously large bowl of thick chocolate ice cream. Grabbing a spoon, he dug in.

Harry moaned in delight as he savoured the chocolate as it melted on his tongue—all the while more than a little aware of the way Draco watched him enjoy his treat.

Draco's own ice cream was forgotten as Harry grinned and sucked on his spoon, teasing his boyfriend mercilessly. Finally, Harry finished his dessert and slowly licked the last of his chocolate from his lips.

"Gods, Harry," Draco murmured, pulling Harry closer. Harry tilted his head and hungrily kissed the chocolate from Draco's lips as well.

Draco moaned as Harry soon gave up any hints of subtlety and straddled Draco, pressing his boyfriend against the back of the sofa as he tasted and licked the chocolate from Draco's mouth. Harry then sucked Draco's thumb into his mouth to gather any lingering sweetness before trailing his lips over Draco's chin and along the lines of his boyfriend's neck.

"How messy do you think I am?" Draco groaned, as Harry unbuttoned his robes and began lapping at Draco's chest. He was quite sure Harry wouldn't find stray chocolate ice cream on his nipples, but then, he didn't really mind so much that Harry was trying.

Draco whimpered a bit when Harry peeled off Draco's jumper and moved his hands to the waistline of his trousers, tracing the line of the material where it met pale skin, and pressing his lips along the lines of Draco's slim hipbones that emerged.

Harry finally acquiesced when Draco began whining and arching his hips, and began to unbutton Draco's trousers. After a bit of manoeuvring, Draco found himself sitting there on their sofa with his trousers and underpants pulled down to his knees while Harry was still fully dressed. But Harry quickly kneeled over him and took him in his hand and began stroking Draco just the way he liked as they kissed and licked at each other's sugary sweet mouths. (And perhaps he was simply getting used to it, but Draco didn't even mind the bit of excess saliva.)

Draco reached for the button atop Harry's jeans, but he found his hand batted away. At least he managed to Vanish Harry's shirt before he growled and snagged Draco's wand and tossed it away on a nearby table. After that, Draco gave up and simply enjoyed the handjob Harry was apparently set on giving him.

It was difficult work, being the object of Harry's desire; he was rather insatiable and Draco was constantly being tackled for lengthy snogging sessions and jobs of all varieties. But then, Draco mused as he leaned back and let his boyfriend suck at his Adam's apple, if it made Harry happy, he'd simply have to suffer through it.

Meanwhile, Harry bit back his grin as he watched Draco come apart from his touch, gasping for air as Harry slid one hand along Draco's heavy cock, while the other did inexcusable things to his left nipple.

After a few minutes of delicious toe-curling torture on Harry's part, and panting on Draco's, Harry realised Draco was close, tensing beneath him just so. Harry nibbled at his ear. "Come, Draco," he whispered. "Come."

Draco bit his lip in response, wanting to hold out, to make it last, but when he turned to look at Harry, his boyfriend's green eyes were clouded with lust and his hair was sticking out in every possible direction, even though Draco had been the one under duress. And well, there was also the way Harry was twisting his hand so perfectly around Draco's bits...

"Come, Draco," Harry commanded. "Draco, come."

When Harry put it like that, what choice did he have?

So Draco did—all over Harry's hand, grunting as Harry lapped at his sweat-slicked skin, a soft smile on his face as Draco shuddered in pleasure beneath him.

"Merlin, I love you," Harry breathed, rubbing the back of Draco's neck.

A very satisfied Draco simply groaned as his bones gave out—Harry must have Transfigured them into jelly at some point—and collapsed sideways on the sofa.

Harry grinned and cast a quick cleaning charm before picking up Draco's forgotten bowl of half melted chocolate ice cream and polishing it off as his boyfriend recovered beside him.


It was a rather typical Tuesday when Draco and Harry returned from work to the scent of lamb stew. Kreacher had cooked, and the smell was so delicious, the famished Draco had drooled liberally until they finally gathered to eat.

Unfortunately, Draco's growling stomach had been a bit embarrassing, which made him already slightly crabby as they sat down to dinner. He really was simply minding his own business and trying to enjoy his supper; still, he couldn't help but notice that, as always, Harry was using the wrong utensil.

Draco rolled his eyes. More than once. But Harry hadn't noticed the first time, and as much as Draco didn't like repeating himself, needs must.

Harry sighed. He was pants at cutlery and largely convinced that Draco changed the Silverware Rules on a daily basis, just to confuse him. And he couldn't really even see why it made a difference anyway. A spoon was a spoon, was it not?

Draco was not pleased when Harry pointed this out, however. "Shall we just dine as animals then?" Draco asked, setting down his third fork from the left. "Forgo utensils altogether?"

Harry paused and looked longingly at his bowl. He rather liked the idea, actually. There'd be little pressure if all he had to do was stick his muzzle—err—mouth directly into a dish.

Draco blinked. "It was a joke, Harry."

"Yes, but, wouldn't it be funny, if we had to eat from the dish?" Harry grinned. "You'd look dashing with lamb and gravy in your nose."

"I never get gravy in my nose," Draco replied. He didn't; even as a dog he had meticulous etiquette.

"You would. I'd bet you ten galleons that you would. I even got gravy in my ear once," Harry said.

Both men looked up quickly and realised their conversation had become a bit revealing if examined too closely.

"Harry," Draco said carefully, wiping his mouth with his napkin before elegantly returning it to his lap. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"Nope!" Harry shook his head emphatically, shoving a dessert spoon full of stew into his mouth, chewing and swallowing it before looking up again and narrowing his eyes. "Wait. Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Nothing at all," Draco replied, quite sure he preferred his animagus form to remain secret.

Matters settled, and happy to ignore the obvious lies they'd just told, Harry returned to his hearty stew, his grin so endearing, Draco was forced to overlook his boyfriend's choice of utensils and instead focused on the excellent choice he'd made in falling in love with Harry.


Harry rolled around in the field, scratching his back on the rough ground below.

The snooty white dog merely watched him with disdain, clearly unwilling to get dirty. The dog didn't know what he was missing, Harry decided, jumping to his feet to tackle him. Soon they were both joyfully rolling around in the weeds.

The other dog put up little fight; it was clear he wanted an excuse to join in the fun. Soon, they were covered from head to tail with dirt and grass and burrs and Merlin knew what else. It was fantastic.

Harry grinned, watching the other dog's tail wag like crazy as he prepared to pounce. Barking with laughter, Harry let the other dog tease him and chase him through the field before pulling him back down to the ground.

Harry refused to feel guilty about enjoying the other dog's company. It wasn't like he was cheating on Draco, after all; his friend was a dog, and they were simply having a bit of fun.


Harry was undressing for bed one evening as he told Draco about his day at work when he spotted something unusual around his boyfriend's neck.

"Err, what's that?" Harry asked, walking over to where Draco had frozen, his robes half undone.

Draco closed his eyes, mentally cursing himself for forgetting to remove the item before Harry had gotten home from work. "Nothing. A gift. From Mother."

Harry was both sceptical and disturbed in equal measure. "Your...mother...gave you...a dog collar?"

Harry knew that purebreds—err...purebloods had weird traditions, but he was certain he hadn't heard of this one before.

"Yes. No. Well, I... No," he sighed. "I bought it."

Harry stepped closer and ran his finger along the collar. "It's...Well, it's gorgeous, Draco."

Draco frowned. "You don't think it's strange?"

"Not at all," Harry replied. He was actually a bit envious, and wished he'd thought of it first. He wondered what Draco would think if he got one too. He kissed Draco. "It's actually really hot," he admitted, blushing.

Relieved, Draco whispered thanks for the millionth time that he had Harry, and then continued to undress. He hung up his robes and slipped out of his trousers, but when he went to remove the collar, Harry stopped him.

"Leave it," Harry requested, his voice soft.

Draco slowly dropped his fingers from his neck. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry gulped. "Gods, Draco, if you could see..." He walked over to Draco and with a flick of his wand, Draco stood before Harry wearing nothing but the collar.

Draco's skin prickled as he felt Harry's warm magic across his flesh.

"Harry," Draco started to whine, but was cut off when Harry smashed his lips against Draco's, backing him up until Draco fell into their bed, and with minimal protest, allowed Harry to ravish him fully.

Doggy-style, of course.


Harry scanned the display in the Muggle pet shop before choosing one of the items to examine more closely. Draco looked truly stunning in light icy blues, and the leash Harry held was the perfect shade to accent his boyfriend's colouring. But then, it wouldn't exactly match Draco's dog collar, now would it? Harry frowned and put back the blue leash.

It wasn't that it was Draco's birthday or any sort of holiday, but Draco loved being spoiled and Harry loved to indulge him. Unfortunately, Draco already had one of almost everything, so buying him presents was challenging. Harry was fairly certain he didn't already own a lead though, and the image of Draco wearing it with his collar made Harry's knees weak—as did the thought that Draco might give him a chance to wear them himself at some point.

Unfortunately, the Muggle pet store didn't seem to have very many leather dog leads. Harry wondered if he should just buy one of the regular ones and Transfigure it to something more to his liking at home. Of course, he preferred to purchase the real thing if at all possible.

As he was about to leave, one of the leads in the lower corner of the display caught his attention. It was definitely more along the lines of what Harry was looking for. He picked it up and ran his finger over the soft leather. It would match Draco's collar nicely, he realized. "Merlin," he murmured. "Yes, that's the one."

Still fingering the leash, Harry grabbed a bag of his favourite dog biscuits—Draco wasn't the only one who deserved treats—and headed to the front of the store to pay for his items. Rounding the corner of the aisle, however, he came chest to chest with a rather interesting surprise.



Both men looked at each other warily—and the items they carried.

"I was...err... getting you..." Harry paused to look around and make sure no one was listening. "Getting you a lead." Harry whispered the last few words, trying unsuccessfully to tuck the biscuits behind his back.

"And the biscuits?" Draco prodded.

Harry cringed and momentarily considered Vanishing them and then Obliviating Draco, but then realised there was a simpler explanation right at his fingertips. "I was...hungry? And err, you know how much I love 100% natural beef flavours with bits of real liver."

Harry was always hungry, so it seemed a reasonable enough excuse to him. Draco, for his part, merely raised an eyebrow.

"Well, what about you then, hmm? Why are you buying Kibbles and a T-bone shaped chew toy?" Harry asked Draco, grabbing the item from Draco's hand. The toy squeaked as he did so, which Harry thought was great fun, if he was being honest.

Draco's mind raced, reaching, reaching, reaching for an excuse. Any excuse, really. Bollocks, any one would do!

Finally his mind latched on to one that had worked well for him in the past.

"I needed them. To... throw. At Muggles. When it's dark," Draco finally said, grimacing at his lie while trying to sound extra pathetic. "I get scared, Harry."

Harry was sceptical, but then again, Draco looked so guilty that perhaps he was telling the truth about throwing things at Muggles. Setting his lead and biscuits down on a nearby display, Harry did the same with Draco's items before clasping Draco's hand in his. "I thought we agreed that you were going to stop using Muggles as target practice, Draco?" Harry ran his thumb over his boyfriend's cheek.

Draco looked at the ground and nodded. "It was only in self defence," he pointed out, before sighing dramatically and promising he'd try.

"Good." Harry scratched behind his ear and glanced back at their odd assortment of Muggle pet paraphernalia.

Draco cringed. "Let's never speak of this again then, shall we?"

"Excellent plan," Harry vowed, relieved, and started to head to the store exit.

Draco hesitated though, and grabbed Harry's sleeve. "Wait. You can still buy me the lead though."

Harry grinned. "Yeah?"

"Absolutely," Draco smirked. "I'll meet you at home. I'll be the one in the collar." He winked and ducked behind a display to Apparate home.

Harry practically threw the Muggle money at the cashier as he raced out of the store with the leash, and maybe also the brilliant plastic squeaky T-bone.


Draco wagged his tail when the brown dog with the white zigzag on its forehead showed up at the park the following Sunday afternoon.

Harry had decided to visit The Burrow, so Draco had promptly said the magic words before dashing off to the park to enjoy the warm day. He was glad to see his shaggy friend was there as well.

He waited until the other dog approached then gave him a dignified headbutt to display his pleasure. He received a sloppy wet lick in return.

Draco grinned and they got to work planning their afternoon. As Draco was intent on keeping his slim figure, he suggested skipping their usual ice cream raid and moving straight to the task of excavating the giant Muggle sandbox. Luckily, the other dog nodded in agreement and they went off to dig up hidden treasures.

It was quite convenient really, as later, instead of wondering whether it was a bad sign he was starting to wish he didn't have to change back into a human quite so often, Draco was simply able to stick his head deep into the sand.


Another week passed and Harry was starting to feel very guilty about hiding such a big secret from Draco.

Things were even a bit tense at home. In the last week he and Draco had fought over whether they should have bacon at every meal or just most, and then about whether chipmunks or squirrels were more fun to chase. (They finally compromised and agreed that the best animal to pursue was obviously cats.) Not only that, just last night Draco had been mumbling something in his sleep about sausages—although, come to think of it, that wasn't sounusual. But there were definitely lots of peculiar short blond hairs Harry kept finding all over the house that didn't belong to any wizard he knew.

Harry was pretty sure Draco wasn't cheating—he was sure it was nothing like that—but he could tell something wasn't quite right.

For days he alternated between confronting Draco and confessing. He was dying to tell his boyfriend, but how could he? Draco would have kittens if he found out Harry was running around as a dog at every opportunity.

Harry sighed and sat back on his haunches and used his back foot to scratch behind his ear.

He was going to have to come clean. The experience at the pet store had taught him that much. It was way too close a call, and it would be worse if Draco found out on his own.

Unless...if Harry stopped using his animagus form altogether, perhaps he wouldn't have to tell Draco the truth. The thought of never running free again made him dreadfully sad, but hurting Draco would be worse, he decided. It was time to stop.

He meandered toward the park, trying to figure out a way to explain to his canine friend why he wouldn't be coming around any more.

As he got close, however, there was a scent in the air that was entirely new. Yes, Harry definitely would have remembered it. In fact, his animal instincts told him exactly what it was—the beagle that lived down the next street was clearly in heat. Harry cringed and tried to ignore the smell. He had Draco, after all, and was certainly in no need of a bitch on the side.

Harry ran past the offensive dog's house and entered the park. When he arrived, the white dog was waiting for him underneath the bleachers by the football pitch. He trotted over.

Harry was trying to figure out how to say he wouldn't be around when the other dog placed a sloppy slobbery kiss on his face. Harry was stunned; the white dog usually wasn't much for showing affection. He tentatively licked the other dog's face in return. He'd done it before, but then, somehow the pheromones made everything seem slightly dangerous.

The white dog licked him again, looking at Harry pleadingly. What was Harry to do but lick back?

He did. And then the white dog promptly started humping Harry's leg.

Harry freaked. Panicked, he dashed out from under the bleachers until he was in public view again, barking like mad.

The white dog came up to Harry cautiously, his head low, apologising profusely with his puppy dog eyes. He'd got carried away thanks to the plethora of Beagle pheromones in the air, and Harry could tell he was horrified at what he'd done. Harry's barking turned to whimpers. He understood; the beagle's scent was making him crazy as well.

Harry accepted the apology, but he knew he had to get home to Draco as soon as possible. He had no business snogging anyone else, and that included the gorgeous white dog with the grey eyes. He had to make sure he never licked another dog again. But when Harry turned to his four-legged friend to explain the situation, he found the other dog had decided to bolt, leaving Harry to whine mournfully as he stared after the white figure running away.

Head drooping sadly, Harry hurried out of the park. What a mess.


Horrified and saddened by his inability to control himself, Draco raced home, for once eager to return to his human body. As he ran, however, he grew more and more furious—both at himself for his inexcusable actions and the stupid Beagle who couldn't keep her scent to herself. He certainly hadn't meant to hump the other dog, but she'd made it impossible for him to resist the shaggy green-eyed mutt.

He cringed. Malfoys didn't cheat. Okay, well, maybe some did, but hedidn't.

Thinking about it made him even angrier. Gods, he almost shagged the bitch when he walked by her house, thanks to his animagus form. And barely resisting that, he'd had a go at his friend. He was so upset he started to tear up his neighbour's flowerbeds, until he realized eating the shrubbery was not the answer.

He had to confess to Harry. It was likely it would land him straight in the doghouse, but he supposed he deserved it. Sighing, he replanted the neighbour's perennials as best as he could, then wandered off toward home.

When he arrived, he promptly changed back into his human form and owled Harry to ask if they could set aside time to talk when he returned from his trip to the Obligatory 407th Annual Amazing AurorFest for Aurors in Adelaide, Australia.

The return message from Harry indicated he'd be coming home earlier than expected and that he too had something to discuss with Draco. The note also said there would be no more Auror conferences to attend for quite a long while.

Draco tried not to worry about what the next day would bring. After all, if Voldy hadn't succeeded in pulling him and Harry apart, he doubted a silly thing like his humping a dog would be the end of them. Though, Draco decided, he'd best not put it in quite those terms when it came time to explain matters.


The next morning, Harry transformed one final time. He didn't want to leave things the way he had with the other dog—he had to explain that he wouldn't be back, and wanted a chance to offer a proper goodbye. Harry'd lost too many people in his life to cut off a friend without a bit of proper closure.

When he arrived at the park, the other dog was there, and his sad eyes matched Harry's. Harry gave him a gentle headbutt and the other dog smiled bleakly while explaining that he, too, wouldn't be back to the park any time soon.

Their goodbyes were quick, but their sorrow at a friendship cut short was real.

After a final farewell howl, Harry the Bernese Mountain Dog with a white zigzag on its furry forehead left for home, heading back toward the unrelenting responsibilities of being Harry Potter, and to the St. Bernard-sized confession he owed to the man he loved.

Meanwhile, Draco, the gorgeous purebred Akita Inu, left the park not long after, but he took the long way home, knowing he had to get himself together before facing Harry. When he finally arrived, however, Harry still wasn't back, so Draco headed up to their bedroom to hide under their luxurious king-sized bed and wait. Perhaps the location was symbolic, but mostly Draco felt safe in their bedroom, and he loved that it smelled so strongly of Harry.

Draco was so distracted by his pending confession, however, he was fully under the bed by the time he saw the pair of eyes looking back at him from the other side of his dark hiding place.

Without thinking, Draco growled and snarled, scrambling back out from under the bed and thwacking his head on the edge of the bed frame as he did so.

"Bloody hell!" he cursed, rubbing his head as he transformed back to his human form. He wrapped himself in his robe and dashed to his night stand to retrieve his wand as he heard scuffling on the other side of the bed.

"Stay where you are!" Draco yelled, before he realised that the eyes he'd seen were awfully familiar. The image of the scruffy brown dog popped into his head. But... how could the animal have got through the wards?

The only one besides himself who had access to their house was...


Draco's jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he watched his canine friend emerge from underneath the bed and transform into his very sheepish and extremely naked shaggy haired boyfriend.


Draco cleared his throat and peered at Harry over the top of his newspaper. "I might have to leave for a bit this weekend. Mother needs assistance sorting some of her rare potion ingredients."

Harry scratched behind his ear and attempted to stifle a smile. They didn't transform into their animagus forms nearly as often as they had before, but once in a while, when the call to run with the wind was strong and the thought of chewing on a large stick was ever so appealing, they took an afternoon off to run free. Only now, they did it together, barking and wrestling and chasing birds and each other until they collapsed beneath the bleachers, wagging their tails and licking each other's faces.

It was bloody brilliant, Harry thought, looking up from his pumpkin juice and eggs. "Well, that's good timing then. I have an Exceedingly Important Meeting for the Best and Most Handsome Young Auror Representatives on Sunday afternoon that I absolutely must attend myself."

"Yes, well, good, then," Draco nodded and bit back a chuckle. "Pass the jam? Oh, and Harry, don't forget to wear your new collar?"

"To my meeting? Wouldn't dream of forgetting it. Kingsley thinks I look extremely handsome in it," Harry teased.

Draco dropped his newspaper to the table. "Excuse me?"he growled. "Kingsley better not have seen you in your collar!"

Harry just laughed, vanished his dirty dishes, and waggled his eyebrows before racing off to their bedroom. "Coming, Draco? If you hurry, I might let you hump my leg before work."

Draco didn't need to be asked twice. He took off toward Harry, stepping on the squeaky T-bone toy as he dashed up the stairs.

It was excellent being a dog, of course. But sometimes, being Draco was so much better.