So I was thinking the other day, and out of the blue I had an impulse to write another Sirry fic. Needless to say I think I have officially scared my poor cousins for life with all the thinking I do. :D

Pairings: SB/HP, but as for others…well let's just say my brain stopped.

Warnings: Slash, violence, convict-ish Sirius, godfather/godson M/M relations (maybe FemSlash) so if you don't like why are you reading this?

Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own the HP universe. Except my OCs who may or may not make an entrance. If I did own HP then not only would I be rich, but there'd be SLASH!!!!

Summary: After a beating Harry goes to the park near the Dursleys' home to get away from them for a while. A strange stray dog appears and Harry being the big softy we all know him to be, can't help but take the poor thing home. But who does this dog turn up to be? Why none other than our lovable Azkaban escapee Sirius Black of course! A tad cliché, but fun!

Normal

"Talking"

'Thinking'

/Parseltounge/

/Sirius-Harry mind talking/

My furry little hero? :

CHAPTER ONE: You lucky stray you.

Had Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, or any other Slytherin for that matter, been around Harry Potter the summer before his third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they'd have laughed themselves shitless. After all perfect Harry-Gryffindor-Golden-Boy-who-lived-and-has-too-many-hyphens-bloody-Potter getting beaten up by muggles is simply something of pure genius. Nobody would expect the Savior-of-the-Wizarding-World-destined-to-forever-vanquish-Voldemort (seriously who came up with these names in the first place?) to be a human house elf to his family. In fact it was because of said family that Harry sat nursing his arm at the park.

"Ow-ow-OUCH!!!! I think he bloody broke it! SHIT!" He grumbled from the swing he was sitting on.

Why was his arm broken you ask? Simply because he told his Uncle he'd 'behave' during Aunt Marge's visit if she herself did. That didn't go very well. Aunt Petunia hit him in the back of his head with a pan she'd used to cook with (thank Merlin that no food got into his hair!), Uncle Vernon tackled him to the ground, and Dudley, who didn't want to miss out on the Potter abuse, stepped on his free arm. So currently he was sitting with not only a broken arm, but a throbbing head, bruised body, and labored breathing. Lovely. So something was wrong with his lungs.

But it wasn't as if he couldn't heal himself, he could, with the potions he asked Madam Pomfrey for at the end of the year. But those were in his trunk locked away in his old cupboard under the stairs. Then there were the emergency ones he owled the woman for, and bless her for giving them without a fuss, but those were under his floorboard in his room. And to be honest, he did not feel like going there at the moment. He did carry his wand around everywhere though. It was even in his pocket! But what use would it be? He wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school. Anyone who did that was expelled like Hagrid. GREAT! He couldn't even do wandless magic yet, well he could, but the spells were rather weak since he only just started learning what…a week or two ago? And he didn't know the spell off of his head anyways.

It was useless. Harry was useless. Just like all of the crap the Dursleys fed him as a kid. All of the names, the lies, the abuse, the-everything! They hated him, so why on earth was Dumbledore making the teen stay there during the summertime? Oh right, blood-wards. Bit useless really. If they were blood wards, then shouldn't anywhere he went be protected since they were meant to protect him? And why couldn't dear old Dumbles put extra-high-security wars on the burrow so Harry could stay there instead where he felt a bit wanted? Where he wasn't beaten for being his freakish self, or doing something wrong? Why? Why?! Why!

Harry sighed and rested his bad arm on his leg, and running his good hand through his already messy black hair. Sometimes life was a bitch. You do nothing wrong, yet you live in a hell. Something good gets taken away. Like always. Did he do something in a past life to and fate or the gods and he is still being eternally punished? Or was he taking blame for Voldemort's actions? Or was it for destroying the Dark lord when Harry was no older than a baby? The teen wrinkled his nose at that last thought. Highly unlikely since Dumbledore told him that Voldemort needed to go down.

When something poked at his eyelids, Harry took off his glasses to see a shard of the glass at an angle. Not even his glasses were in good shape. He sighed and put his glasses back on.

"I wish, just once I had something to call mine for good. Something I can keep without it being taken away. Something no one CAN take away." The black haired boy said looking up to the first few stars of the night.

Harry stayed on the swing, absentmindedly swaying around and cradling his broken arm to his chest for all of three minutes before he was interrupted by a dog hopping out of the bushes a meter away. Harry blinked. The dog was HUGE! Bigger than the average dog, hell he was bigger than most dogs! But the poor thing was so skinny! Not that a regular person could tell what with all of that black fur. Though that fur wasn't in too great of shape at the moment. It was shaggy, wet-ish, clumpy, and had…stuff sticking out of it. Like leaves and twigs. From where Harry sat, he could see that the dog had the most stunning stormy gray eyes. Just where did this dog come from? Harry looked up and he noticed the dog was looking over Harry the same way the teen did to the dog.

Gray met green. And…

Harry blinked.

The dog blinked.

Harry blinked again.

And so did the dog.

Harry blink just one more time….and so did the dog. It was rather funny. Harry giggled and patted his knee awkwardly since he was still holding his broken arm. "Come here puppy!"

The big black dog was more than happy to oblige. Okay, maybe he was too happy. The dog ran and nudged Harry so hard in the knees he nearly fell over. "Ha-ha, easy boy…you are a boy right?" And as if answering the question, the dog lifted his back leg, and peed right there. "Eww! Ok ok I get it! You're a boy! You're pretty smart there aren't ya?" The dog smiled. "So you live around here?" a shake of the head "Do you have an owner?" Another shake "Okay, so you're a stray?" A nod. "So do you have a name?" The dog nodded again "Oh you do! What is it?"

The dog held up one of his dark paws to show Harry the pads of his feet. "Foot?" Shake "Pads?" Shake "Paddy?" another shake "does it have o do with your foot?" there was a semi-nod. "And the pads?" another nod. So it had to do with pads and feet. Pads and feet. Pads and feet. Pads and…foot maybe? Pad and foot made "PADFOOT!" The dog gave a happy bark and nuzzled Harry's leg. Padfoot huh? Why did that name sound familiar. It was like it came from a dream long ago. Shaking his head, the teen rested his bad arm on his thighs, so he could pet Padfoot. "Well Padfoot, would you like to be my Padfoot?"

A part of him knew it was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Uncle Vernon hated strays, plus he was already on bad terms with the young wizard. Aunt Petunia hated animals with fur in general because they're so messy. And Dudley…well he could care less so long as he had food and the TV. But something about the dog screamed 'keep me I'm lovable and you can't resist me'. But as Padfoot barked and licked Harry's face, said boy forgot about everything but the dog. That included his injuries. So it should have come to no surprise that when Padfoot's paw accidentally hit the teen's broken arm. But it did, and it made Harry hiss in pain. Padfoot stopped and looked at the boy who was cradling his arm.

Harry wasn't going to get rid of him was he? After he just found him? No! That couldn't happen!

But as his Harry looked up and their eyes connected, the black haired boy just smiled and beckoned his dog closer. "I'm sorry Padfoot. I forgot my arm broke. S'not your fault boy. Alright?" Harry explained making Padfoot huff and give a look that clearly said 'well if you're hurt then why aren't you doing anything to make it better?' The teen smiled some more. "Padfoot, I would if I could but…my options aren't in my favor at the moment. If we wait here a few hours I'll be able to fix it.

But the black dog was having none of that oh no. After all, his beloved Harry was hurt and suffering and it only made Padfoot angrier when he realized he inflicted some of the pain. So focusing on the broken limb, his thoughts were on one of the few wordless-wandless magic spells he knew. And thank Merlin it was a good healing spell too.

Harry was very surprised to say the least when all of the pain in his arm and a lot of the pain from the other injuries went down and almost all away. As the teen moved his newly fixed arm, he giggled and hugged his new dog. "Thank you! You must be able to do magic then?" Padfoot licked Harry's face as a yes. "Well I'm a wizard, third year at school." Harry said in a whisper. The big dog barked and locked at his 'master' with a look saying 'oh can I go?! Please-please-please?! I'll be good I promise!' Of course it made the teen laugh. "Definitely! I'm totally bringing you and there ain't anything that's going to stop me!" He went to hug Padfoot again, when one of his senses kicked in. His sense of smell.

"Eww Padfoot! You stink! You need a bath" Harry exclaimed rather loudly. Of course the dog had to agree. When you've been running for months through cities, water, forests and fields, it's only natural to need a long bath.

The teen pursed his lips in thought. He couldn't go home yet, since the Dursleys were most likely awake, and they didn't have any pet shampoo Harry was aware of. But Mrs. Figg did. The only kind of pet shampoo she used could be used for any animal with fur. She also had a little metal tub and a hose. And it wasn't that late, she was probably watching the news, or baking one of those dreadful cat litter cakes. It was decided, and if they left now, they'd be back in minutes.

"Come on Padfoot! We need to get going if we want you bathed before midnight." Harry got up and walked down the streets to Mrs. Figg's house with his big black dog in tow. They made it in record time, for Harry that is. A whole 12.2 minutes. The promise of a bath must've been what kept them going. Harry for the smell, while Padfoot…well I think we get the picture. As they were walking up to the door the green eyed boy turned to the dog and spoke in a soft tone. "Padfoot, this Lady is really nice, she has the stuff to give you a bath and food if you want ("BARK") I thought so. But the problem is that Mrs. Figg has cats. Lots of cats. Can you handle yourself?"

"BARK!" Really, did his Harry think that he was going to turn down food and a nice bath for a few cats? Nuh-uh no sir! But just for effect and for the message to sink in, Padfoot hopped up on his hind legs and licked his Harry's face. The boy smiled and knocked on the door. "Good dog"

When Mrs. Figg answered the door, she was in her bathrobe, slippers and hair curlers, no surprise. She looked at the duo before shaking her head and ushering them in. "Harry, what do I owe this lovely late night visit for?"

"Well Mrs. F, I know you don't want to hear this, but I found a stray dog. And I plan on keeping him. Don't give me that look! I know they'll be mad! Stop with the look!" Harry started.

"Harry they'll be madder than mad!" Mrs. Figg shrieked

"I KNOW! But I couldn't just leave him. Look, all I need is to borrow your metal tub thing, some hot water, shampoo, and food for him. He looks starved half to death."

"Harry how do you--?"

"Remember Mrs. F. Takes one to know one. So can you please help me out?" Harry pleaded giving his older neighbor a puppy dog look. No one could resist the look! Mrs. Figg was no exception and she eventually caved. "Fine Harry. Fine. As long as you know what you're doing."

Harry smiled at the woman "I do" Padfoot was seething though. How DARE someone try to hurt his Harry! He said it so casually too! As if it didn't matter. "So where's the tub and soap?" He heard the teen ask.

"In the closet" was the reply.

The three walked down the hall to said closet. They passed four cats, and Padfoot's hair was standing. Had it not been his respect and promise to his Harry, and the conversation the other two were having he would've attacked the felines.

"So Harry, have you heard about that criminal on the loose, Sirius Black?" The lady, Mrs. Figg asked. Padfoot gave the two his full attention.

"Yeah, a bit on my aunt and uncle's TV, I don't think he sounds that bad though." Harry replied, absently scratching the top of Padfoot's head, who was happy for the scratch and the comment.

Mrs. Figg, who to no surprise Padfoot was growing to dislike a lot, spluttered. "Harry! He killed 12 muggles and blew up a person!"

"I meant he seems familiar. But 13 people? Sirius? Are you sure? It sounds so…wrong."

"Of course it's wrong! He caused the deaths of 13 people!" The squib yelled as she handed the soap and tub to Harry. They turned to go back to the kitchen, Padfoot growled so quietly that the other two didn't hear him.

"No, Mrs. Figg, you are the first person that has ever heard this. When I was little and first went to the Dursleys, I had these dreams, so vivid I'm positive they were memories. There was this man who looked exactly like Sirius Black, he was always snuggling or holding me. If my mum or dad wasn't I called him…" /Paddy/ /what? / Well that was different. But it was true. That was the name and it sounded awfully like Padfoot. "Well that's not important. But there was also this really shy and nice guy, not that the other wasn't, and he had brownish blonde hair and……amber eyes? But they were there and they loved me and were nice. And then there was the Stag, the dog/wolf, and the…" Harry trailed off and stared at Padfoot wide eyed.

Thankfully they were back in the kitchen. Mrs. Figg took the sink hose and started filling the basin with warm water. "Harry dear, just because coincidentally the two men look alike, doesn't mean that they're the same. Sirius Black has killed, the other man has not. Do you want me to give the dog some ham? I made one today."

"Yes Mrs. Figg. I'm sure he'd like it."

Padfoot chowed on the big plate of ham he was given. No cats came either, so he got it all to himself! Ha! The previous conversation ended between the neighbors. They were currently snacking and waiting for the tub to fill. Harry picked it up when the water got to a certain point. Turning the water off of course, and carried the tub out back. Padfoot finished the plate and followed Harry. He was putting bubbles in the water. "Padfoot, in the water now."

The dog jumped into the warm water purposely spraying Harry. Said boy coated him in soap and scrubbing and rubbing at the disgusting fur. Padfoot turned so he was facing his Harry. Green met gray and Padfoot started getting bored of the quiet.

/Thank you Harry, it feels nice to get clean. /

Harry Blinked and stared at his dog. /P-Padfoot? /

/Yes, that's me! / Harry heard the silkily sarcastic voice announce in his head.

/How--? /

/Can I talk to you like this? /

/Yes, that. / Harry smiled and scrubbed a particularly nasty spot of fur.

/Tell me Harry, do you believe in fate? /

/Yes, it's been pretty bitchy to me lately. But I got you out of it so I guess it's not all bad. Why?/ Harry honestly should have been a bit worried that he was mentally talking to his dog. But something was telling him that this was safe and okay. A gut feeling if you will. So why not go with it?

The voice mentally laughed /Aww I love you too Har, what about true love and soul mates and all of that bogus crap?/

Harry laughed out loud and mentally. /if you think its bogus crap then why do you believe?/

/Simple, it happened to me. So do you believe?/

/Sure I guess./