A Dark Companion

7: Snuffles the Miserable Mutt

Summary: Sirius has internal crises; Harry has an internal crisis; the author has an internal crisis because she's never paid attention to the plural form of crisis; Remus doesn't like bacon

The now familiar scent made Sirius jump up. He had been dying to know what Harry had thought of his new broom since he received it for Christmas, but it had been a few weeks since they've last spoken.

"Sirius Black sent me a Firebolt."

Sirius nearly choked on air. He knew! He fucking knew! But that was impossible! But it wasn't. Because he knew —!

"Well, that's what Hermione thinks," Harry continued, completely unaware of Sirius' inner turmoil. "She told McGonagall, and McGonagall took it to make sure it doesn't have any jinxes or anything."

He rolled his eyes and the food he had brought with him hit the ground with a loud smack.

Smart girl, Sirius thought, though he could understand Harry's frustration. The Firebolt was a glorious broom. James would have been first in line to get it if he could.

"What if she's right, though?" The anger in Harry's eyes had died away and now he looked apprehensive.

Sirius concentrated on the chicken bone.

Harry sighed. "Whatever. It's done now. I'll get it back soon. Hopefully."

He gazed out into the trees. Sirius let him collect his thoughts, crunching on the strips of bacon with relish. Remus had never been a fan of bacon, which Sirius didn't get. How could you not like bacon?

"I want to tell him," Harry blurted out. "Ron, I mean. I want to tell him I like him."

Sirius straightened up, trying to convey his message that yes, he should absolutely tell Ron! And then they could kiss and cuddle and fall in love and live happily ever —

"You're... really enthusiastic about it," Harry said slowly, regarding the wriggling Sirius wearily. "Is there something you're not telling me? Well, of course you can't actually tell me, but —"

Sirius whined and pushed Harry over with his nose. Tell him, you doofus! Because if he didn't, then Sirius would find a way to do it for him and that was a threat!

"All right, all right, I'll talk to him!" Harry held his hands out in a placating manner and took a deep breath.

It was silent for a few moments, with Harry thinking of what else to say and Sirius gnawing at the chicken bone.

"Lupin has been teaching me the Patronus Charm."

Sirius, always eager to hear about Remus (even if he hated bacon), sat up.

"He knows my dad," Harry went on. "I didn't know that. I wish he told me sooner. I have the feeling he knows Sirius Black, too. He grew tense when I said he might know him."

Know him? Sirius resisted the urge to snort. That was an understatement.

There was a long pause as Harry contemplated something. "Is it bad that I almost don't want to know how to drive away dementors?" he asked quietly.

Sirius cocked his head to one side. Why on earth would anyone want to hear their worst memories play over and over in their heads?

"I... I hear my parents." Harry looked down at his lap. "Dad was telling Mum to take me and get out, and Mum was begging Voldemort to spare me."

Oh. That made sense... Sirius still didn't think he'd want to listen to his worst memories even if he got to hear James' voice again, but... it made sense for Harry. It only just dawned on Sirius that Harry's earliest memories would be of his first years with his horrible aunt and uncle. Did the kid have any happy memories growing up?

Sirius' chest tightened as James and Lily's beaming faces flashed in his mind. He could remember the day they officially started going out as clearly as though it had only just happened.

"So?" James had looked slightly anxious as he looked between his friends.

"That's awesome, James!" Peter had exclaimed.

Remus had grinned broadly and embraced him. "Now we can go on those double dates like you've talked about." He narrowed his eyes playfully. "Well... minus the confetti and whatever that other thing was."

James had rolled his eyes but turned to Sirius without snarking back. "Padfoot?"

Sirius had taken a step forward and pointed at him sternly. "Prongs, you're my best friend... but if you hurt Lily, I will fill every drink of yours with salt licks for the rest of your life."

"Don't be ridiculous, Sirius!" James scoffed.

"Yeah!" said Peter. "None of us would ever hurt each other!"

Liar! Sirius let out a small growl. It was because of him that James and Lily were dead! Because of him Harry had only the dementors to enable him to hear their voices!

"I guess animals don't like hearing Voldemort's name, either." Harry was watching Sirius warily.

That wasn't technically wrong. But there wasn't any way to convey the real issue, so Sirius forced himself to smooth his hackles and tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"Okay." Harry looked quizzical, and who could blame him? "I'll just say You-Know-Who from now on."

"Harry?"

The pair lifted their heads. Ron had appeared from between the trees.

"Ron!" Harry's face brightened. "What are you doing here?"

"I, er, didn't see you anywhere in the dorm. And Hermione's so busy with her fifty classes she hasn't paid much attention elsewhere, you know how she is." Ron rolled his eyes, but his voice was affectionate as he spoke of her.

"Well, I was just talking to — er..." Harry looked at Sirius sheepishly. "I just realized I've never called you by anything."

"Call him Snuffles," Ron suggested. "Dogs do that a lot."

Sirius huffed. Then he regretted it because Harry beamed and said, "Snuffles, it is."

Well, it could have been worse. Like miserable mutt — thanks, James — or any of the more... colorful phrases Remus used when he was exasperated by his boyfriend's antics.

"We should get back inside," said Ron. "I bet Hermione will notice if we're both missing."

"Right," said Harry, standing. "See you later, Snuffles, you miserable mutt."

Sirius waved with his tail and turned to go back to his den.

Then he came to an abrupt halt. Miserable mutt... James, you bastard!

Hey, a chapter that actually made it past the 1000 word mark. Didn't expect that. Anywho...

I wasn't a fan of bacon for most of my life. I'm still not, but I don't hate it either. Like it's... fine, I guess. Nothing special about it.