Raised by Canines {A Harry Potter fanfiction}

1. He's Been Saved

Disclaimer: All of these characters belong to Miss Rowling. :)

At first glance, number four, Privet Drive, was particularly normal. An average home, with an average car in the driveway and simple flowers lining the sidewalk. There were always people all around, not one of them feeling unsafe in the neighborhood because, well, people are pretty good at putting up normal facades. Especially the little family that lived at number four: The Dursley's.

Vernon Dursley was, in no uncertain terms, a whale of a man. He, as well as his son, Dudley, ate to his heart's content. He worked from 9 to 5 every day as a Director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was always in sweater vests, dress shirts, and dress pants, just as one would expect from the average upper-middle class man. He had a wife, Petunia: tall and thin, an average housewife. Petunia, although she'd never admit it, disapproved strongly of her husband's eating habits and wished he hadn't taught them to their son, but...Dudley was perfect. At least, according to her, he was 100 times better than that nephew she had been put in charge of taking care of.

That nephew. Ah, there it was, the one thing that made them exactly the opposite of average; little Harry Potter. Teeny Harry Potter, Petunia mused as she watched him rinse the dishes and stick them in the dishwasher. The four year old was entirely too small for his age and had had a hard time reaching the sink; even now, standing tiptoe on a stool, he was having trouble.

"Those'd better be done by the time Dudley and I head out to the park. Your Uncle left a long list of chores for you to get done today and you won't get them done if you dilly dally." The woman straightened up and started to head up the stairs, calling out instructions to Harry as she went. Don't open the door for anyone (what would the neighbors say if there was a child home alone!), don't answer the phone, the list of his chores would be on the table...

Harry only quickened his pace; he'd learned the hard way never to say a cross word about anything, and, well, he wasn't usually one to complain. He liked the peace and quiet when he was doing his chores home alone.

*~*~*

Sirius Black had been freed from Azkaban only two years ago. He had managed to get in touch with Remus Lupin the night that he had been incarcerated, and it had been a vicious battle to get him a hearing, to get him out of that dreadful place. Once free, the two best friends had moved in together in a small cottage not far from Hogsmede, a village they had visited frequently during their time at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

You read that correctly. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were wizards. They had attended Hogwarts and become friends during their first year, along with two other boys, one that was dead now and the other that was as good as dead if the Ministry of Magic succeeded in finding him. The one that had died had died only about three years before. He went by the name of James Potter. He and his wife, Lily, were killed at the hands of an evil wizard, whom the four of them had fought so valiantly against. The other boy that was mentioned had told the wizard of Lily and James Potter's whereabouts, succeeding in killing them and leaving their son, Harry, an orphan.

Harry. Harry was Sirius Black's godson and Remus Lupin's honorary nephew. He should have been with the two of them, not that muggle sister of Lily's. Lily had even disliked her; neither of them spoke to one another unless it was absolutely necessary. Sirius pondered over this as he sat in a chair in front of the fireplace, gripping James' snitch tightly in his hand. Harry was rightfully his little boy, why hadn't this whole adoption thing gone so much quicker? And, after his conversation with Dumbledore earlier in the day, he was getting worried that once the Ministry decided to give him custody it would be too late.

Remus stumbled in, interrupting his thoughts. Oh. Sirius felt bad even thinking it, but he knew that Remus' "furry little problem" was the reason they were drawing out this adoption thing. They wanted him to slip up, hurt an innocent. They wanted to prove their prejudices. But it had been almost 20 years since he had been bitten, and never, not once, had he hurt even a fly. The man had even offered to move out so that Sirius could get Harry quicker, but Sirius would be hearing none of it. He would stand by his friend.