Raised by Canines {A Harry Potter fanfiction}

7. Ah, the Old Headmaster!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR! Enjoy!! ^^

Sirius wasn't looking forward to this meeting at all. He hadn't seen the headmaster since the day they'd brought Harry home, and he hadn't wanted to. He was angry with Dumbledore, making Harry stay at the Dursley's as long as he did. If the ministry had been so against Remus taking Harry when Sirius was put in Azkaban, why hadn't Dumbledore given the child to Minerva? She'd loved the boy as if he were her grandson and Sirius knew she would have taken him in in a heartbeat.

Dumbledore knew Harry wouldn't have a happy life with the Dursley's; Lily and James both had been adamant about him never going there. Screw Voldemort and blood wards, extra precautions could have been put in place somewhere else. Anywhere else. Dumbledore couldn't even listen to Lily and James' final wishes, and he couldn't listen to Sirius two years ago when he'd told Dumbledore to give the ministry a kick in the pants to get Harry in Sirius' custody.

He no longer knew if he could trust Dumbledore after this. Sirius was infuriated at the way his Godson had been treated and nothing had been done to prevent it.

He sighed; there wasn't much he could do about that now. Harry was making progress, he seemed to be starting to trust and love them and, although he was still very jumpy, he didn't flinch every time they went to touch him.

Sirius smiled fondly, remembering the night before when Harry had so sweetly asked him to rock him and read a bedtime story. Harry'd been alternating between the two every night, and he'd only had a nightmare once since they'd discovered how much the rocking before bed had helped.

Knowing that he couldn't put this meeting off much longer, Sirius made his way to the sitting room where he found a sullen looking Harry sitting on the couch, arms crossed and bottom lip out. The little one was obviously none too pleased with the robes that Remus insisted he wear.

"Aw, Harry, what is the matter?"

Harry jumped a little and looked up at his Godfather, arms now uncrossed and attention fully on the man. He bit his lip, not yet comfortable with voicing his opinion. Harry had one of two options, it seemed: one, he could tell Uncle Padfoot that he didn't like these robes and risk having both of his uncles mad at him, or, he could just say he was tired, which wasn't technically a lie.

"Tired," He decided with a mumble.

Sirius frowned a little. "Sorry, Pup. We'll let you nap as soon as we get home, alright?" He walked over to the little boy and picked him up, resting the toddler on his hip.

Harry immediately buried his face in Sirius' shoulder; he'd really missed his Godfather. Sure, he was there every night, but Harry missed having him all to himself all day every day. He murmured a quiet "Okay" and clung to Sirius, closing his eyes.

*~*~*

Remus had come downstairs within a few minutes after Harry had fallen asleep on Sirius' shoulder, and smiled warmly at the two.

"Is he asleep?"

"Yeah. None to pleased with you, however." Sirius grinned at his best friend. "I can tell he doesn't like the robes."

"Well, Albus said we'd be leaving him with Minerva and you know she'd expect him to be dressed appropriately." Remus frowned a little and ran a hand through Harry's hair. "He can't be too mad at me. It is my turn to put him to bed tonight."

"I dunno, Moony. I think you're on his--"

He was quickly cut off by a whisper-yell from an exasperated Remus. "Padfoot! No cursing!"

"But he's asleep!"

"I don't care! It's an easy habit to fall back into and Harry doesn't need to hear that at this age, you sailor." Remus had his hands tucked into fists and resting on his hips, looking very much like a mother chastising a naughty child. Sirius found it hilarious.