A/N: I know the title is odd (actually, it's the name of a blue-grey color
in my watercolor set), but I couldn't think of anything else, and the color
sort of reminds me of the mood of my story anyway. ;-) So don't be too
surprised if the title changes when I finally come up with something
suitable. Anyway, this story is just basically about Sirius, with me thrown
in as an OC. It's a bit psychological I guess, maybe because I wrote parts
of it during my psych class.
Feel free to review (pleasepleaseplease! ^_^), constructive criticism is
welcome.
Disclaimer: I think everyone knows I don't own the Potter series, but to fend off lawsuits I'll say it here: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, I do not.
Paine's Grey
Chapter 1
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- *-*-*-*-*-*-*
I walked down the nearly-deserted street, my footsteps echoing across
puddles and through the falling rain. I pulled my cloak tighter around me,
though it was already soaked through and did little to shield me from the cold. I
just wanted to get home, out of these muggle streets where everyone stared as I
passed by in my flowing wizard garb. I really should have changed before I left
the theatre, but I had been lost in thought about the play and it was only when I
was three blocks towards home that I realized what I was wearing. Oh well, I
thought, only one more block to go, anyway. One damn cold, wet block.
Suddenly I stopped. In front of me was a creature even wetter and more
bedraggled than me: a shaggy, black dog that looked like it hadn't eaten for days.
My eyes met the dog's dark gaze, and it felt like something snapped into place
somewhere in the depths of my subconscious mind. The dog froze as it noticed
me, and for a moment I thought it would run away. Slowly, I knelt down and
reached out my hand, speaking reassuring nonsense in a low, calming tone.
"Good boy, you're a good boy," I murmured, "Come on, come here, I
won't hurt you." The dog hesitated, looking up and down the dark street, then
he moved cautiously towards me, stopping just within my reach. I rubbed my
fingers behind his ears, slightly disturbed by how little spare flesh there was. The
dog gave a low whine and sidled closer to me, probably trying to soak up some
of my rapidly dissipating body heat. My heart filled with pity for the poor thing.
Compelled by compassion and the strange connection I felt with the dog, I made
an impulsive decision.
"You can come home with me, boy. Come on, follow me." I stood up and
started walking slowly, beckoning for him to follow. Again he hesitated and
looked over his shoulder, and I was strongly reminded of a man who was afraid
he was being followed. I whistled to him, and after a moment he came trotting
towards me, always staying just barely within reach. I arrived at my apartment
within minutes, and gave a quick look around to make sure no one was watching
before shooing the dog into the entranceway. Technically, we weren't allowed to
have pets, but I wasn't really planning on keeping the dog anyway. I led him up
the two flights of stairs to my apartment, and when we reached the door I
furtively pulled out my wand.
"Alohomora," I whispered and the door clicked open. Stashing my wand
in my cloak pocket I stepped inside, and the dog slipped in after me. I shed my
cloak and left it to drip morosely from the back of a kitchen chair. The dog shook
himself, spraying water all over my semi-tidy room. I laughed at the sight of his
fur standing up like porcupine quills, and I could've sworn he grinned back at
me. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and began rubbing the dog down,
talking to him as I did so.
"There, that feels better, doesn't it? Nice and dry. D'you want some food?
I bet you do." He gave a quiet sort of bark. Slightly unnerved, I looked at the
dog, thinking that he was surely the most intelligent canine I'd ever seen, and
wondering how it was that he had ended up on the streets.
"Okay then," I said, and went into the kitchen. I didn't have any dog food,
of course, but there was a bowl of leftover stew in the fridge that I thought
would do quite nicely. I stuck the tip of my wand in it and muttered a quick
charm. Carrying the now-hot stew back to the dog, I found him patiently waiting
where I had left him. I set the food down in front of him, and he began gobbling
it down, confirming my suspicion that he'd been starving. I sat down next to
him, stroking his fur as he continued to eat.
"What should I call you?" I mused, more to myself than to him. "I've
always liked mythological names.Morpheus, Pluto." The dog finished the
stew, licking the last drops from the sides, then lay down with his head on his
paws. His strangely intelligent eyes regarded me intently.
"And then there's always the obvious," I said, now feeling a bit ridiculous
talking to a dog. "I could just call you Dog, or Black." His head shot up at the
second name and he gave another soft bark. I was startled: just how smart was
this dog?
"Black?" I half-asked. He just looked at me. "Well, I guess that's as good a
name as any. Black it is." I stood up, shivering in my wet robes. I decided to
change into warmer garments, so I went into my bedroom and began rifling
through my clothes. Black followed me and jumped up onto the bed, curling into
a large, fuzzy ball. His dark eyes followed my every movement, but when I took
off my shirt to change, he shut them tightly. Amused at the ridiculous notion of a
modest dog, I smiled a bit as I finished dressing and wrapped myself up in a
cozy blanket from the bed. Having nothing better to do, I lit a fire in the hearth
with my wand and lay down in front of it, intending to read the novel I'd been
meaning to re-read for weeks. Black came sauntering out of the bedroom and
joined me by the fire.
For a while I read, basking in the warmth of the fire, then I put the book aside
and became preoccupied with brushing out Black's long, matted fur. It took ages,
and I was mildly surprised that Black didn't go to sleep. Given the
circumstances-a warm fire, a full stomach, and a fur massage -any normal dog
would probably have been asleep in an instant. Instead, it almost seemed that
Black was purposely trying not to sleep: his eyes would drift shut, then he'd yank
them open again with a twitch. Eventually it was I that ended up falling asleep,
my arm around the dog's middle and my face nestled in the now-silky fur of his
neck.
Disclaimer: I think everyone knows I don't own the Potter series, but to fend off lawsuits I'll say it here: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, I do not.
Paine's Grey
Chapter 1
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- *-*-*-*-*-*-*
I walked down the nearly-deserted street, my footsteps echoing across
puddles and through the falling rain. I pulled my cloak tighter around me,
though it was already soaked through and did little to shield me from the cold. I
just wanted to get home, out of these muggle streets where everyone stared as I
passed by in my flowing wizard garb. I really should have changed before I left
the theatre, but I had been lost in thought about the play and it was only when I
was three blocks towards home that I realized what I was wearing. Oh well, I
thought, only one more block to go, anyway. One damn cold, wet block.
Suddenly I stopped. In front of me was a creature even wetter and more
bedraggled than me: a shaggy, black dog that looked like it hadn't eaten for days.
My eyes met the dog's dark gaze, and it felt like something snapped into place
somewhere in the depths of my subconscious mind. The dog froze as it noticed
me, and for a moment I thought it would run away. Slowly, I knelt down and
reached out my hand, speaking reassuring nonsense in a low, calming tone.
"Good boy, you're a good boy," I murmured, "Come on, come here, I
won't hurt you." The dog hesitated, looking up and down the dark street, then
he moved cautiously towards me, stopping just within my reach. I rubbed my
fingers behind his ears, slightly disturbed by how little spare flesh there was. The
dog gave a low whine and sidled closer to me, probably trying to soak up some
of my rapidly dissipating body heat. My heart filled with pity for the poor thing.
Compelled by compassion and the strange connection I felt with the dog, I made
an impulsive decision.
"You can come home with me, boy. Come on, follow me." I stood up and
started walking slowly, beckoning for him to follow. Again he hesitated and
looked over his shoulder, and I was strongly reminded of a man who was afraid
he was being followed. I whistled to him, and after a moment he came trotting
towards me, always staying just barely within reach. I arrived at my apartment
within minutes, and gave a quick look around to make sure no one was watching
before shooing the dog into the entranceway. Technically, we weren't allowed to
have pets, but I wasn't really planning on keeping the dog anyway. I led him up
the two flights of stairs to my apartment, and when we reached the door I
furtively pulled out my wand.
"Alohomora," I whispered and the door clicked open. Stashing my wand
in my cloak pocket I stepped inside, and the dog slipped in after me. I shed my
cloak and left it to drip morosely from the back of a kitchen chair. The dog shook
himself, spraying water all over my semi-tidy room. I laughed at the sight of his
fur standing up like porcupine quills, and I could've sworn he grinned back at
me. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and began rubbing the dog down,
talking to him as I did so.
"There, that feels better, doesn't it? Nice and dry. D'you want some food?
I bet you do." He gave a quiet sort of bark. Slightly unnerved, I looked at the
dog, thinking that he was surely the most intelligent canine I'd ever seen, and
wondering how it was that he had ended up on the streets.
"Okay then," I said, and went into the kitchen. I didn't have any dog food,
of course, but there was a bowl of leftover stew in the fridge that I thought
would do quite nicely. I stuck the tip of my wand in it and muttered a quick
charm. Carrying the now-hot stew back to the dog, I found him patiently waiting
where I had left him. I set the food down in front of him, and he began gobbling
it down, confirming my suspicion that he'd been starving. I sat down next to
him, stroking his fur as he continued to eat.
"What should I call you?" I mused, more to myself than to him. "I've
always liked mythological names.Morpheus, Pluto." The dog finished the
stew, licking the last drops from the sides, then lay down with his head on his
paws. His strangely intelligent eyes regarded me intently.
"And then there's always the obvious," I said, now feeling a bit ridiculous
talking to a dog. "I could just call you Dog, or Black." His head shot up at the
second name and he gave another soft bark. I was startled: just how smart was
this dog?
"Black?" I half-asked. He just looked at me. "Well, I guess that's as good a
name as any. Black it is." I stood up, shivering in my wet robes. I decided to
change into warmer garments, so I went into my bedroom and began rifling
through my clothes. Black followed me and jumped up onto the bed, curling into
a large, fuzzy ball. His dark eyes followed my every movement, but when I took
off my shirt to change, he shut them tightly. Amused at the ridiculous notion of a
modest dog, I smiled a bit as I finished dressing and wrapped myself up in a
cozy blanket from the bed. Having nothing better to do, I lit a fire in the hearth
with my wand and lay down in front of it, intending to read the novel I'd been
meaning to re-read for weeks. Black came sauntering out of the bedroom and
joined me by the fire.
For a while I read, basking in the warmth of the fire, then I put the book aside
and became preoccupied with brushing out Black's long, matted fur. It took ages,
and I was mildly surprised that Black didn't go to sleep. Given the
circumstances-a warm fire, a full stomach, and a fur massage -any normal dog
would probably have been asleep in an instant. Instead, it almost seemed that
Black was purposely trying not to sleep: his eyes would drift shut, then he'd yank
them open again with a twitch. Eventually it was I that ended up falling asleep,
my arm around the dog's middle and my face nestled in the now-silky fur of his
neck.