A few lovely fandom imagines

Tom Branson

Slowly, the warmth of the blankets and that of the soup you were being spoon fed worked its magic, and you did not feel like you had been strolling around the North Pole naked anymore. Your throbbing headache even lessened enough for you to open your eyes without pain, and you were finally able to properly see your saviors.

The first one you glimpsed was a little girl, no older than four or five, staring at you with wide eyes. You loved children, and hated to see this one's worried expression, so you made a tremendous effort to wink at her so she would be reassured. You were successful, for she giggled and exclaimed, "Look, Daddy! The snow stranger is awake!"

You smiled at her adorable choice of words, gladly noticing moving your face was starting to become a less arduous task, and heard a chuckle coming from the door as the man you now knew to be the girl's father returned.

"Hello," he said gently, taking a seat in the chair that had been drawn up next to the couch you now realized you were resting on. "It's nice to know that you're back among the living. You gave us quite a fright."

You tried out talking, and though it came out as a pitiful croak, your words were still distinguishable. "Sorry about that. Thank you so much. I'm fairly certain you saved me."

The man seemed to brush off your comment. "I heard you over the wind, luckily enough. I was outside to make sure the garage door was holding up against the storm, and I couldn't just leave you out there to freeze to death," he shrugged modestly. "And in any case, we had already taken in one stray, so what difference would another make?"

"Already taken in one? You mean I'm not the only lunatic who wandered out into the death trap this storm is? Who else-"

But at that moment you stopped because a scruffy black dog had just padded into the room. More specifically, your  scruffy black dog.

"PADFOOT!" you exclaimed. And the euphoria caused by seeing your beloved companion safe from harm annihilated the remaining frost from your limbs, allowing you to throw off your blankets and run to your dog, grabbing fistfuls of his still wet fur, laughing as he licked your face affectionately.

The man chuckled from behind you. "I take it you two know each other, then?"

"Yes, we certainly do!" you answered, still scratching your dog behind his ears. "In fact, this silly dog is the reason I was nearly frozen to death, he had the brilliant idea to run away on a night like this!"

"Well, the important thing is that you're both safe," the man said, and you smiled at him.

You then noticed the little girl who was looking at your dog in wonder. "Miss Sybie, isn't it?" you asked the child, and she nodded. "Would you like to come say hello to Padfoot? I'm sure he would love to thank you for saving him from the storm." The young girl approached, and Padfoot, having always loved children as much as you did, began to lick her hand affectionately. She giggled delightedly and started to pet him, and you left them to it, rising to face the man.

"Thank you again for saving us. I truly am grateful, Mr..."

"Branson, Tom Branson."

"Well then, Mr. Branson, please accept the most heartfelt thanks of Y/N Y/L/N and Padfoot. If ever there is anything I can do to repay you, don't hesitate to say so."

"You're very kind, but I was just doing what anyone else would have done. And please, call me Tom," he said.

"In that case, I insist you call me Y/N," you smiled at him, and you could feel you were going to very much like this Tom fellow.

***A FEW HOURS LATER IN TIME AND SPACE***

Tom had the great kindness to drive you home the next morning. You chatted quite a bit on the difficult road, the snow making the streets nearly impracticable, but Tom's driving skills got you through it. Padfoot was nestled on your legs, sleeping peacefully, while you were next to Tom on the driver's seat.