young Sirius black

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WHEN Y/N'S MOM ASKED IF SHE WANTED A tabby cat for her eleventh birthday, it took all of her willpower not to flee the bloody state of England. Hogwarts had their restrictions and regulations, and according to her halfblooded mother who attended the damned school as a youth, dogs weren't allowed. Called them "mutts"- burdens. This was an absolute outrage to Y/N and she absolutely refused to even look in the direction of those yowling daemons when she came upon them in a pet-store.

This specific memory came back to Y/N when she spotted a lounging dog-right beside the Great Lake, during her fifth-year of Hogwarts. It was a gorgeous dog, especially through her peripheral vision at this specific vantage point. Thick black fur, pointed ears relaxed back to the top of its shaggy-haired head, a long tail softly brushing back and forth on the grass.
Y/N couldn't help but gasp. A bloody dog-in Hogwarts!

"Oh my gosh," Y/N breathed quietly. When the dog didn't register her voice or feel the shift of energy in the atmosphere, she supposed it had to have been sleeping. Any other animal would have shot up, stared at her with petrified anxiety, then pranced away in a flurry of fur and footfalls. This particular animal-this dog-was too preoccupied with lazing about to really reflect on anything other than the soothing trickling of the Great Lake's waters. Even if it was conscious, it probably felt itself too comfortable to actually pay any real attention. What was there to fear, anyway? The Giant Squid?

Y/N ignored the urge to scurry down to the dog and tackle it with kisses and hugs, and in place of her passion, she called herself down enough to just stand there and stare at it. She wondered whether it was a girl or a boy-with the way it lounged, she proposed it was a boy. Yes, a boy. He was most definitely a male dog. And his name; did he even have a name, or was he really a stray, as she originally suspected? Y/N couldn't honestly tell, and before she could protest the movement or think against her intentions, she was doing just what she originally told herself she wouldn't-shouldn't-do: scurry down the hill and attack the dog.

A great yelp escaped him the moment Y/N plopped to the ground and barreled into him. A strangled gasp came from the dog mere seconds afterward, and he began to bark with great fervor. Y/N quickly began to shush him. "McGonagall hates dogs; keep your bark down!" she whispered hurriedly, loosening her grip on his thick, furry neck. Strangely, the dog froze. To Y/N, it almost seemed as though her voice was familiar to him.

The dog jumped from her arms with a great harrumph and shook himself off. Y/N eyed him in amusement. There was something about the dog that made her just want to giggle and giggle. Was it the way he acted like the animal-version of a Marauder? Y/N supposed so, due to her strange infatuation with the group's humor and pranks.

"Listening to me, are you?" Y/N quipped smirkingly. The dog tilted his head, amusement clear in his eyes-but Y/N didn't notice. She thought he was her newly-acquired pet-her new companion-and quickly scooted closer. "It's quite alright; I appear to have that effect on all men and all animals. Not cats, though-those little beasts can go kiss a bloody hog's arse than be anywhere near me."

The dog let out an obnoxious snort, a cross between a bark and a laugh. Y/N eyed him with curiosity. Ignoring the part of her afraid that he was born into a pack of wolves, and would scramble her body parts into disposal bits before she could even react, she reached out a hand. "You're so adorable," she cooed at the dog. His fur was black like midnight, covered in a silvered gleam from the moonlight's ominous glare. It was very soft-strange for a stray. There wasn't a single trace of grim on him, excluding any pieces of grass that laid nimbly on his torso.

"Don't worry," Y/N said to him, "I'm not like McGonagall. I love dogs!" The dog beamed at her, eyes alight with pleasure as her nails massaged the bases of his ears gently. He was a very nice dog, surprisingly. Y/N expected him to bite and nip at her like any other animal she'd known. They were all rather particular about who they let scratch their bellies, and Y/N's impatient desire to constantly pet and rub on an animal did not sit well with any of them. This dog, though, seemed to enjoy her presence.

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