Secrets of the Animagi

Chapter 2 - The Dog on the Doorstep

Dobby hopped of the shelf and bowed low to Harry. "Dobby's house elf friends will not talk to Dobby. Dobby is still a disgrace. Dobby has nowhere to go when he isn't with Master Dumbledore. Please, Harry Potter, sir?"

Harry could see the tears filling Dobby's eyes. The last thing we wanted to see was a bawling house elf. Winky's outburst last year had taught him that. "The last time you were here, I got in trouble with both the Ministry of Magic and the Dursleys. If you can promise-"

"Dobby promises there will be no trouble for Harry Potter. He will stay right here in this beautiful little house. Harry Potter's family will never see Dobby or hear Dobby."

Harry winced at Dobby's use of the word "family", but decided to overlook it. If Dobby knew how the Dursleys usually treated him- Well, he just didn't want to think about what Dobby would do. "It's nearly time for dinner, Dobby. Can I bring you something from the kitchen? Maybe Aunt Petunia won't notice."

"Oh no, Harry Potter, sir. Harry Potter is most kind, but Dobby can take care of himself," said Dobby with another bow. He snapped his fingers and a picnic dinner appeared on the floor of the shed.

Harry looked at the dinner in awe; it was the fanciest picnic for one he'd ever seen. There was even a little candle in the center of the plaid picnic blanket. The food, in covered dishes, smelled delicious. He almost wished he were living in the shed with Dobby; Aunt Petunia's meals paled in comparison. Harry expected an owl from the Ministry of Magic to come swooping out of the sky any minute.

Harry took his leave of Dobby, and gently closed the shed door. Walking into the Dursley's house, he wondered why he didn't hear shrieks from his aunt and uncle. Why wasn't there an owl? Didn't the Ministry notice the sudden appearance of a picnic in the garden shed? Harry decided to change before dinner; he was muddy from the afternoon's work in the garden. It wouldn't do to make Aunt Petunia angry, not with a cat in his room and an elf in the shed. Harry hoped the Dursleys wouldn't discover Dobby. But then, they rarely set foot in the shed, at least not when Harry was there to do all the yard work.

True to his word, Dobby stayed hidden from the Dursleys. Harry wondered that Dobby could think the shed to be a beautiful house. If that was the case, then he hated to think what Dobby's life had been like at Malfoy Manor. Harry hadn't needed to do much yard work during Dobby's weeklong visit. Each time he walked out of the house, he found there were no weeds to pull, the bushes were tidy, and the lawn was neatly manicured. Hermione would not have been pleased to see it; she was firmly against using a house elf as unpaid labor. In his defense, Harry had tried to protest, but Dobby gave another speech about how Harry was a great and kind wizard and how he was in debt to Harry for his hospitality. Dobby, thinking he had displeased Harry, was even ready to box his own ears. After two days of that, Harry had given up. He made a show of doing the gardening whenever his relatives were around (it wasn't that often), but spent most of his time just enjoying Dobby's company. As long as he didn't attempt to say anything unkind about his former masters (he hadn't gotten out of the habit of attempting to punish himself), Dobby was a font of information on magical families, which just happened to be the subject of Harry's summer assignment for History of Magic. It seemed that Dobby was acquainted with or related to nearly every elf that served a prominent wizard.

"It is the end of Dobby's holiday. It is time for him to return to Hogwarts," said Dobby with a low bow. "Thank you for letting me visit, Harry Potter."

Harry had been unable to convince Dobby to call him "Harry". Apparently house elves took great stock in surnames, since they didn't have any of their own. "You're welcome, Dobby. Thank you for helping with the chores and my essay," replied Harry. "See you when I get to Hogwarts."

"Goodbye, Harry Potter!" And with that, Dobby disappeared with a crack.

Harry lounged on his bed that evening, scratching Rufus between the ears. The cat had been miraculously well behaved, in spite of his habit of sleeping on Harry's pillow instead of in the cage. Uncle Vernon and Dudley hadn't even mentioned the presence of a cat in the house and Aunt Pentunia was strangely silent. Harry noticed that Rufus was staring at the window into the night. Harry wondered what was outside, but knew there wouldn't be enough light for him to see. Since there weren't any owls tapping on the glass, or flying cars appearing out of nowhere, Harry rolled over and slept. Without Dobby to help, he would have a lot of work to do tomorrow.

Rufus was still staring out of the window the next morning. Harry suspected that the cat hadn't slept, but then he remembered that cats are largely nocturnal animals. Harry still wondered what Rufus was staring at. Now that it was daylight, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary in the yard. Shrugging, Harry changed into his workclothes. Just as he was slipping on his trainers, he heard Dudley whinge.. Harry slipped down the stairs, hoping that the scene would be entertaining.

"But Mum, I haven't had a pet in ages. Can't I keep him?"

Aunt Petunia was sitting on the sofa, fanning her pale face with the morning post. From her condition, Harry could tell that Dudley had been wheedling her for quite awhile. Uncle Vernon was sitting next to Aunt Petunia. It was apparently a two-person wheedle.

"Now, Petunia, I agree with Dudley on this one. The boy has the right to own a dog, and all his friends have one. And Marge has that fine specimen, Ripper. It's time our son learned a bit about responsibility. And face it, that mutt is too large for Dudley to toss through the greenhouse roof. Besides, we only gave our beloved son fourty-seven birthday presents this year. It was downright disgraceful."

Harry, from his perch on the stairs, noted that Uncle Vernon didn't mention Harry's owl or the visiting cat. He suspected that he was as invisible to them, as usual, unless they needed someone to blame. Harry was suddenly curious about what dog they were talking about. Just then, he noticed that the front door was open a crack. Harry could see a large black nose sniffing the doorframe. Somehow, the nose looked familiar.

"Mum, I must have that dog! You never let me have anything I want!" Harry saw that Dudley was almost through whining and about to start in on one his usual tantrums.

"Nonsense, you know I love my Diddy-dums. But that dog is so huge, I just don't see how..."

"That's a right good mum, Petunia. I knew you'd come around!" There was a hint of triumph in Uncle Vernon's booming voice. "Dudley, let the new member of our family into the house."

Not noticing that Harry was sitting on the stairs, Dudley waddled to the front door and opened it fully. To Harry's amazement, there was a bear-sized black dog sitting patiently on the doorstep. Harry didn't dare say a word. It wouldn't do to let the Dursleys know that they had just adopted his godfather as a pet.

Harry couldn't believe it. In addition to tending Aunt Petunia's garden and polishing Uncle Vernon's car, he was now saddled with caring for a very rambunctious dog. Sirius' dog act, Harry had to admit, was perfect. Too perfect. Dudley's fascination with pet care had lasted only a few days, just until Aunt Petunia insisted that the dog be walked so it wouldn't keep digging in the garden. Mrs. Dursley also demanded that the dog have a proper doghouse. It had left too much drool on her clean kitchen floor. Now named Black Prince Cromwellington by Dudley and Uncle Vernon, having delusions that they had adopted a prize hunting dog, Sirius was most likely to be found nosing about the rosebushes and chasing mice and rabbits around the yard. Harry suspected that Sirius was in search of a certain rat, but there was no sign of Wormtail.

"Black Prince, sit!" commanded Dudley. He had wandered into the garden. Harry figured there was a commercial break between Dudley's favorite television programs. The dog immediately sat down in Aunt Petunia's daisies.

"Black Prince, kill!"

Dudley commanded the dog to "kill" Harry at least once a day, with varying results. This time, Sirius pounced on Harry and licked his nose.

"Bad dog!" Dudley muttered, obviously disappointed. "Absolutely useless. Harry, Black Prince needs a walk. Mum said so."

Harry sighed and pushed Sirius off his chest. He stood and brushed the dirt of his clothes. "Whatever," said Harry. Although he welcomed a break from working in the garden, walking Black Prince Cromwellington was no picnic. Black Prince Cromwellington was the kind of dog that wasn't walked; he walked you. During yet another walk that turned into a flat out run, Harry wondered how many galleons he would have to exchange for Muggle money in order to send Sirius to obedience school. Reaching the park four blocks from the Dursley's, Harry sat down under a tree, pulling Sirius' lead.

"Snuffles, sit," hissed Harry. Just in case any wizards were about, Harry thought it was safer to use the name they had agreed on last year.

"Harry, you should know better than to talk to your godfather that way. I just thought you'd enjoy having me around. It is your birthday tomorrow. Or did you forget?" snickered Sirius.

Harry was surprised by Sirius' sudden transformation. He desparately hoped that no one else had seen it. Not to mention that humans wearing dog collars and leads looked a little bit odd. "Some present, Sirius. Do you realize that thanks to you I've had no break from chores?"

"Rubbish, Harry. I've been no trouble at all. I've even helped you pull weeds out of the garden," said Sirius, looking petulant.

"Sirius, I think Aunt Petunia called that digging holes," scolded Harry.

"Not to mention keeping you safe from any wandering animagi," continued Sirius.

"I don't think I've been any danger, Wormtail is probably on the Continent by now. Besides, I don't need help spotting a rat with a silver paw," said Harry.

"Well, have it your way. I'll just leave shall I?" asked Sirius, looking mischievous.

"No, no, NO. Are you trying to get me in trouble with Uncle Vernon? By the way, what did you do with my owl?" asked Harry.

"I sent her on a delivery, hope that's okay," answered Sirius.

"Fine, fine. Just as well. I'm not looking forward to Hedwig's meeting Rufus," sighed Harry.

"Rufus? What's Arabella's pet doing with you? I thought I smelled a cat somewhere." If Sirius had still been in dog form, Harry thought, his ears would be standing straight up.

"Arabella? Is that who Dumbledore mentioned in the infirmary? Is that Mrs. Figg's name? Do you know where she went? When will she return?" Harry wanted answers to all the summer's mysteries.

"You won't hear it from me," muttered Sirius just before he resumed his animagus form.

Unsatisfied with conclusion the conversation, but relieved that no Muggles or wizards had wandered into the park during his talk with Sirius, Harry walked Sirius back to Privet Drive. Sirius was less frisky this time, stopping only a few times to sniff the trees that lined the route.

Harry stayed up late that night writing his Potions essay. His chores left him no time to work during the day. He was unable to sleep anyway, wondering why his own godfather refused to reveal more about Mrs. Figg. Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Just then, Hedwig flew through the open window followed by three more owls. Harry was glad he had left it open, four large owls tapping on windows would have been certain to wake Uncle Vernon. Harry's fears about Hedwig and Rufus were unfounded. Harry chided himself for thinking a wizarding pet would harm an owl. After all, Crookshanks had only been hostile to untrustworthy persons posing as animals. Certainly Rufus had encountered a few owls in his time, even if Mrs. Figg was living as Muggle.

Harry went around to each owl, untying the packages attached to their legs. The three strange owls each took a sip from Hedwig's water dish and flew off into the night. Harry turned to the pile of packages on his bed. Rufus was sniffing at a particularly large one. Harry figured it was probably from the Weasleys. He picked up the box that was wrapped in brown paper. Harry unwrapped the box. Mrs. Weasley had sent him a pineapple cream cake with the words "Happy Birthday, Harry" in purple icing charmed to change colours every few minutes. Harry put of piece of the cake in Rufus' dish and set to reading the accompanying note.

Harry- Happy birthday, mate! Not much time to write and none to shop for presents. Mum and Dad are packing us off to an aunt tonight. Said something about a mission for Dumbledore. See you at King's Cross! -Ron

Harry was disappointed that he wouldn't be going to the Burrow this summer, but it was kind of Mrs. Weasley to take the time to bake a cake for him. He opened the next package. This one was rather small, but strangely heavy. Opening the box, Harry found a miniature model of the galaxy, much like larger ones he had seen in Diagon Alley. A small, brightly coloured card fluttered out of the box. Harry recognised Hermione's handwriting immediately.

Dear Harry, I hope you like the present. You'll notice the stars aren't labelled. I'll show you how to do the charm for that the next time we meet. It wouldn't be fair to have bought a precharmed one. You'd never study for your Astronomy OWLs.. Love,
Hermione

Harry chuckled as he read Hermione's card. Hermione never seemed to stop studying. He thought the model was a fine present, even though it would take quite awhile to label all the stars. Harry took the next package from the bed.It was a small and squashy, as if it contained some sort of fabric. When Harry opened the package, he knew it could only be from Dobby. It was a pair of wildly patterned mismatched socks. One was black with yellow stars; the other was bright pink with multicoloured neon rainbows. There was a note enclosed. From the narrow, looped script, Harry knew that Professor Dumbledore had written it. Harry wondered if house elves could read and write. If not, it would be one more project for Hermione if she found out.

Dear Harry, Dobby has asked me to send you these as a thank you for your hospitality. They looked so warm and comfortable, I was tempted to keep them for my own. I trust you enjoyed his version of the Muggle Repelling Charm I requested that he cast wherever he chose to stay. I have also enclosed piece of parchment that Barty Crouch, Jr. claimed to be your map. Please inform Messrs. Padfoot and Moony that I am not now, nor have I ever been a "nutter". I prefer the term dingbat. Most Sincerely,
Professor Dumbledore

Harry searched among the wrappings, and sure enough the Marauders Map, showing a great deal more wear than last year, had been enclosed. Harry wondered why Professor Dumbledore had returned the item. He suspected that the professor had a fondness for the items that Mr. Filch, the caretaker, had declared to be dangerous or otherwise forbidden. After all, Dumbledore had also seen fit to return Harry's Invisibility Cloak twice. Harry had only one parcel left. He tore open the paper. It was a strange collection of wires and hinges. The tag on the contraption read:

Messrs. Moony & Padfoot
Collapsible Escape-proof Cage For mice, toads, and especially rats
Satisfaction guaranteed! Just say the word and it works wonders!

Harry stared at the cage. When did Professor Lupin and Sirius have time to invent it? He also wondered which of them had sent it, he didn't recognize the writing on the outside of the parcel. He picked up the card.

Dear Harry, Saw this on my travels and had it sent from the shop. Can't say where I was, so don't ask. The shopkeeper promised to enclose this letter, but said my rock cakes wouldn't fit in the box. I'll save them for you. Thought the cage might come in useful, even if it's too small for Hedwig. The shopkeeper said that you'd have to send away for the password yourself. The address is on the back of the tag. He muttered something about "paranoid nutters" but I didn't quite catch it. Cheers,
Hagrid

Harry grimaced at the thought of Hagrid's rock cakes. He'd never had the courage to tell Hagrid just how horrible they were. He was sure the cakes this year would be even worse, considering they would be in Hagrid's for another month. Harry had used the last batch for skipping stones across the lake at Hogwarts. One good thing about them- he could get at least ten skips out of each one before they sank. Sometimes, the giant squid would grab one from below. At least someone, or thing, enjoyed eating them.

Harry pushed aside his Potions assignment and placed all of the birthday gifts on the desk. He wondered if he really had to write Moony & Padfoot for the cage's password, when "Padfoot" was currently sleeping in a doghouse in the Dursleys' back yard. Ah well, that could wait until morning, he thought. Harry turned off the light and lay on his bed, admiring the model that Hermione had sent. It cast a faint, comforting glow in the room. Harry heard a rustling noise as Rufus stopped playing with the discarded pile of brown paper on the floor and leapt lightly onto the pillow. "G'night, Rufus," Harry muttered as he fell asleep. It had been a most satisfactory evening for both of them.