o(*^＠^*)o Many Thanks to Tungst3n for the Patronage!♥♥
"No, no, no… I'm not drinking anything anymore. I said before, if I drink again, I'm a dog."
"What's the big deal? We're all already…"
After Kasenhis downed the last of Lupin's meager beer stash in just a few gulps, the two of them shamelessly but discreetly made their way to the Leaky Cauldron. There, under the table, Sirius Black—currently in dog form—watched them in speechless frustration as they knocked back pint after pint.
"Hey? How'd this dog get into the Leaky Cauldron?" Kasenhis suddenly narrowed his eyes at the black dog under the table while raising his beer, then glanced toward Old Tom behind the counter.
"Probably has a bit of magical blood," Tom replied casually, wiping down a glass. "Just showed up in my pub one day."
Kasenhis frowned, eyeing Sirius suspiciously.
"Where's the magical blood in that?"
"Maybe it's just… really diluted."
Kasenhis listened to everyone's explanations and nodded. Maybe this dog really did have some kind of magic on it—whether it was residual magic or something in its bloodline didn't really matter.
Could be just diluted. Who knows, maybe one of this dog's ancestors once… did something with a werewolf.
After all, the magical world doesn't exactly care much about reproductive isolation.
"But this dog's expression when looking at us is kinda weird," said Lupin, already tipsy, though still devoting a significant portion of his attention to the large black dog.
Even though Kasenhis had confirmed it was just a dog, the shiny black fur and enviable bone structure—enough to make other dogs jealous—did remind Lupin of a certain someone...
A certain friend from long ago. If he wasn't this drunk...
A question mark popped above Kasenhis's head.
"Weird how?" Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚑𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚑𝕟𝕖𝕥
"I mean, this dog's looking at us like it's got some sort of opinion."
Kasenhis set his beer down too and leaned over to seriously study the dog beneath the table.
"I think… it might be trying to…"
As he said it, Kasenhis—under Sirius Black's horrified gaze—bent down and took one of the dog's front paws in his hand. Lupin, not knowing what kind of potion Kasenhis was brewing in his gourd, followed along and grabbed the other paw of the big black dog.
And so, two men and a dog wobbled their way out of the Leaky Cauldron, dancing a ridiculous little cancan number, eventually spilling into the Muggle world. Under the various spotlights of Muggle cameras and streetlamps, the trio kicked and twirled their way into the distance.
Lupin did manage to recover a shred of sanity midway through and forcefully dragged Kasenhis and Sirius into a deserted alley, intent on separating the man and the mutt.
But to his horror, he found… he couldn't.
The man and the dog were practically fused at the hip—syrupy sweet and stuck together like glue. The moment Lupin managed to pull them apart, Kasenhis looked like a heartbroken dog yearning for his pup, while the dog—Sirius—had eyes full of tears, as if he were a person who'd just been separated from his soulmate.
"…Forget it. Whatever. Your office is big enough anyway," Lupin muttered, resigned, pulling a miniature Portkey from his pocket.
In a twist of space, the man-dog couple (plus one very tired chaperone) were whisked back to Hogwarts.
The moment they arrived, Sirius immediately let go of Kasenhis—whom he'd been clinging to like a lifeline just seconds earlier—and flawlessly resumed his role as a totally normal dog.
Standing in the corridor, he shook his head and glanced around, as if determining his location in the castle. Within seconds, he made his judgment—and bolted.
He was determined—intentionally or "accidentally"—to find his way to Gryffindor Tower and pay a little visit to his dear James—no, wait…
"Eh? Where are you going?!"
Sirius Black had just leapt forward, his front paws midair, when two arms suddenly wrapped tightly around his soft, fluffy belly.
With his speed and the unexpected resistance, Sirius almost turned into a sideways bracket: [＜].
"Alright, Lupin, that's far enough. We're off to bed now," Kasenhis mumbled sleepily to Lupin as he turned and carried Sirius back to his office.
"Wrf.. wrf.. (┬┬﹏┬┬)"
Since he was holding a big dog in his arms, he couldn't use Ender Teleportation directly.
And it was in this moment that he truly regretted not placing a couple of brooms at the entrance of his office for emergencies .
Of course, not for him to ride right now—he'd been drinking. And as the sacred rule goes: Don't drink and broom. Don't broom and drink.
He was planning to have the big dog in his arms ride it. The big dog hadn't been drinking. It was perfectly safe.
As he was thinking this, his Z9 broomstick conveniently appeared beside him. Kasenhis naturally sat down on the broom's saddle and plopped Sirius down in front, guiding the dog's front paws onto the broom's speed throttle and steering bar.
"Come on, Bruce! You've got this! Fly us up to the 3rd floor and we'll have ourselves a good night's sleep!" Kasenhis declared joyfully.
Sirius's dog face twisted into a wordless look of exasperation as he turned to glance back at Kasenhis, who looked like he was having the time of his life. Then he looked down at the broomstick uncomfortably wedged between his hindquarters and seriously reaffirmed to himself: anything containing alcohol was clearly untrustworthy. He, as a respectable dog, absolutely needed to avoid it.
But then his dog-brain started recalling that earlier conversation on the cliff—with the masked man (General Kasenhis. Black doesn't know that.)
Since that guy's goal was clearly to kill the cheerful idiot currently sitting behind him, wouldn't it make sense to just—maybe—accelerate this broom to maximum speed and ram it straight into a wall?
After all, he was a dog: hard-headed, iron-boned, practically unkillable. The fool behind him, on the other hand, was a fragile two-legged creature who could probably bleed out just from stubbing his toe on a table.
However, logic quickly overruled the Gryffindor-style impulsiveness bouncing around in his canine skull.
Just last night—maybe even yesterday morning—that same masked "General Kasenhis" had gone weirdly silent. The guy who'd broken him out of Azkaban was suddenly acting like he'd lobotomized himself: slumped in a corner on the sofa, refusing food, sleep, or conversation.
He'd shut down completely and even started giving Sirius the cold shoulder.
With that memory still fresh, the tiny rational part of Sirius's brain took a deep breath and calmed the hell down. If he smashed this Kasenhis into a wall now and the other one still refused to talk to him afterward, well—he'd be taking a massive L.
Might as well sit back and see what that guy wants next.
At least for now... Woof..!!(★‿★)
Sirius looked down at the broom wedged between his hindquarters—this broom that just looked ridiculously, impossibly, cosmically cool—and in that moment, something deep within him stirred. Specifically, the part of his brain dedicated to "magic broomstick obsession" took full control. And with it, the classic Gryffindor impulse override kicked in.
All that careful canine logic? Thrown to the wind and yeeted a hundred thousand miles away.
Now it was Gryffindor-mode, full throttle.
He made a decision: just a quick little spin. A teeny-tiny joyride. No one would notice.
And anyway, this office was huge. Honestly, eyeballing it... it wasn't that much smaller than the Quidditch pitch.
Ehhhh... screw it, let's ride.
(づ￣ 3￣)づRead two weeks ahead: