Marauders - Always - Part One

CLXXXVI: It's Different

Oliver Kent's head was pounding. He lay spread-eagle on the mattress, under covers at least, but still fully dressed, with no recollection of how he got from the Three Broomsticks back to his room at the inn. The last thing he remembered was the pink-haired girl sitting at the table with Hagrid and a blur of her swooning over the wizarding grunge band's lead singer. Even that was terribly blurry in his mind.

"Ohhhh gods," he whispered, shifting slightly only to find his legs were weighted down by something warm and heavy. Weakly, he lifted his head and jolted in surprise.

The shaggy black dog that had followed him through the square was laying across the foot of the bed, curled up as though it belonged there, nose tucked under the end of his tail. Oliver stared at it warily, then moved his foot tentatively, nudging it in the shoulder.

The dog uncurled and looked up at him with grey eyes that seemed almost familiar in some way that Oliver couldn't place.

They stared at one another for several long seconds, then the dog's mouth broke into what could only be called a grin, his tongue lolling out of his mouth with a woof that felt like a nail to the head and Oliver groaned and fell backward into the pillows. "Oh gods," he repeated, groaning and closing his eyes.

The mattress shifted a bit as the dog stood up and wagged his shaggy tail as he walked closer and nudged Oliver's hand with his nose.

Oliver opened his eyes again just a crack to stare at the dog. "Look," he said, "I don't know why you think you like me, or how you got up here, even, but you're a right mess and I've got a headache and very little patience for anything right now - but most especially not for a flea-covered mutt like you."

The dog tilted his head.

"I'm not a dog person at all, you know. I never have been and never will be."

The dog whimpered.

"Sorry," Oliver muttered, "But it's true. And you weren't exactly invited up here, not by me anyway, so don't you go acting like I've offended you. You're the offending party, after all, coming in where you're not wanted."

The dog rubbed his muzzle with his paw as if to hide his eyes.

Oliver sighed and looked around, then spotted a tea cup the size of a bowl on the nightstand, filled with water, and he rolled over and grabbed onto it. The cup was heavy with a brow pattern of hares and other small woodland animals all over it. He'd never seen anything that looked more like Hagrid in all of his life. "Small children could bathe in this cup," he muttered as he lifted it up and drank deeply. Despite how big it was, he still managed to drain the full cup. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was until he'd started drinking and he let out a gasp of relief as he lowered the cup back to the nightstand with both hands.

There was a banging on the door then and the dog leaped from the bed and started barking with glee, spinning as though to chase after his own tail, his tongue hanging out as he jumped up and down and ran to the door and halfway back to the bed where Oliver groaned and covered his face with his hands, "You really are a noisy son of a bitch aren't you?" he asked. The dog kept barking and the door kept being knocked on, so Oliver swore and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He could feel his head throbbing all the way to his toes.

How bloody much did I drink? he wondered.

He wrenched opened the door - the dog jumping and wagging excitedly still right beside him. "Will you please shut the hell up?" he demanded of the dog, then looked up to find Declan Alectric standing on the other side of the door, holding a tray with two steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of proper English breakfast.

The dog dropped to it's four legs, stopping jumping rather suddenly, and the barking ceased.

At least the dog knows how to shut up when it's told to, Oliver thought.