She heard the jeering voices of several young boys as she trod up the alleyway. The yelp of a dog had her running faster towards them. "Hey! What do you think you're doing to that poor dog!" Corrie shouted, sending the boys running for their homes. She glanced down at the dog that lay panting and whining in the snow. "Oh, you poor thing! What did those little beasts do to you?" she whispered.

The dog was large, a wolfhound, perhaps. He was shaggy, and scrawny. Corrie could count each and every one of his ribs. The dog whined again, lifting a paw from the ground as if in great pain. It tore at Corrie's heart and without a second thought, she patted her thigh. "Come on, boy. You're coming home with me. London streets aren't safe for a good dog like you to be running in."

The dog stood, revealing that he was taller than Corrie'd thought. He easily reached her waist and if stood on his hind legs would probably eclipse her height by several inches. She placed a hand gently on his head, listening warily for any signs of fear or growling. Seeing none, she gently motioned for him to follow her a few buildings over and up a flight of stairs.

She entered the apartment and sighed happily, the bitter cold of the outside was left behind and the apartment was warm and scented with the smells of a roaring fire in the fireplace. She took off her coat and scarf. "First thing's first, my friend. You need food and a bath."

As if he understood her, the animal walked to the kitchen and sat, watching her as she pulled a large bowl of cold beef stew from the refrigerator. She scooped out a rather small portion for herself and placed the bowl on the floor after warming it a bit in the microwave. As if the dog hadn't seen food in a year, it attacked the stew with gusto. "Slow down, you'll make yourself sick eating so quickly like that," she muttered under her breath.

Once again she had the eerie feeling he understood her, because he backed away from the bowl a bit and began to eat more slowly. Corrie took another bowl, filled it with cool water and placed it carefully beside the dog. He licked the stew bowl clean and began to lap at the water. When he finished, he licked her hands gratefully.

She placed a hand gently at his neck. "You need a name...but you need a bath first. C'mon, boy. I hope you aren't afraid of some good old soap and water!" She led him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her so that he couldn't run out. She turned the water on, letting it warm. She filled the tub about halfway and turned to the dog to see him looking at her, a strange, playful glint in his eyes. How odd, she thought, she'd never seen a dog with such lovely silver eyes.

"How about it, boy-o. Into the tub!" she said, patting the side of the tub a few times. As if given a cue, the dog hopped over the rim of the tub and splashed around in the water for a few minutes, chasing the bubbles that were raised. Corrie laughed at him and grabbed a bar of soap. She knelt at the side of the tub and soaped the dog up and rinsed him off. He seemed to enjoy it immensely, so she soaped and rinsed him again, just to be thorough.

She grabbed a towel and began to dry him off, yelping when he suddenly began to shake the water from himself. She laughed and "attacked" him with the towel, drying him well. They left the bathroom with her completely soaked from head to toe. She walked into her bedroom and proceeded to strip down to her skin, drying herself. She was surprised when she turned to find the dog staring at her, a goofy grin on his face, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth.

She felt the need to cover herself for some reason, since he wasn't looking away. She grabbed her robe and shooed him from the room. She would have sworn he was laughing at her as he made some odd coughing-type sound as he walked out of the room. She quickly dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top, comfortable for reading in and sleeping in. She walked into the living room to find the dog laying in front of the fire, staring into the flames.

"Hey there, boy. Want to come up here and snuggle while I read?" Corrie asked and the dog leapt to his feet and quickly climbed up onto the couch. She tucked her feet under his warm belly and began to read aloud. When she came to a part talking about Orion's belt, the dog gave a yiffing sound. Corrie looked up. "What's the matter?"

Of course there was no response, but she continued to read. When she spoke the name Orion again, the dog yelped again, staring into her face. "Orion? Is your name Orion?" she asked, and was rewarded with doggy kisses and a wagging tale.

"Well then, nice to meet you, Orion," she said, with a large yawn she hid behind her hand. "Bedtime, my friend. Come on, Orion, let's get some sleep. Tomorrow will come only too soon."

Orion got up from the couch, stretching and following Corrie into the bedroom. He climbed up onto the bed beside her and watched over her as she fell asleep. When her breathing had deepened, he stood as a man. Sirius Orion Black watched over the woman who slept, a woman who had shown true kindness to a creature so many had overlooked.

He sat by her bedside, his hand stroking through her soft brown hair, his thoughts far away. Suddenly his hand was caught in a painful grip and he yowled. And came face to face with a pissed-off witch holding a wand in his face. "Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?" she shouted at him. A wandless "Lumos!" had the room blazing.

Corrie Brightheart stared into the face of the wizarding world's most wanted murderer. "Are you going to kill me?" she whispered. "I won't make it easy for you!"

"What? Kill you? No! For Merlin's sake, what do you think I am?" He shouted indignantly.

"You're Sirius Bloody Black! You're a murderer!" she said, pointing her want but unwilling to use it to harm unless she was threatened with death.

"'Fraid not, love. Innocent. Incarcerated without proof," he said, pulling back his sleeve and showing the lack of a Dark Mark. He suddenly snatched the wand from her, making her gasp and scoot away from him on the bed. "Oh for Merlin's sake, woman! I'm not going to kill you!" With a quick flick of his wrist, the door shut and locked itself and the windows locked themselves.

"There! Now we can talk," he said, sighing. "What's your name, love?" he asked softly. He stared at her, grey eyes earnest and sincere.

"Corrie," she answered. What was wrong with her? It was like he'd given her Veritaserum or something!

"Lovely name for a lovely lady. Now Corrie, I'm going to ask you not to scream, okay?"

Corrie nodded. Sirius stood and transformed into "Orion". When he returned to his human form, Corrie was wide-eyed and very, very angry. "Why you! You! You watched me strip!" she shouted at him. And without a second thought to her safety, she punched him square in the jaw. He yelped in pain, dropping her wand. She made a leap for it at the same time he did and they landed rather uniquely positioned on the rug as they fought for the wand's possession.

Corrie was flat on her back, Sirius over her as they grasped the wand between them. They stared into each other's eyes over the wand and Sirius grinned suddenly and leaned down to kiss her. It stunned them both when electricity seemed to course through them. Forgetting the wand, Corrie suddenly fisted her hands into his hair, pulling him to her. Sirius' hands wrapped around her body, holding her closer.

They broke away, both of them breathing hard. "What the bloody hell?" Sirius whispered.

"No idea," Corrie whispered back, but grabbed him and kissed him again. "So, innocent? I think I need to hear this story. Maybe over coffee?"

He grinned back at her. "Sounds like a deal."