Narcissa's Wake-up Call(Malfoid)

[Xahn]

Remus is on the scene... is he here to help or fuck up? one can never tell with him ...

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Remus is on the scene... is he here to help or fuck up? one can never tell with him ...

Click to shrink...

Come on. This is me writing here.

 

[Xahn]

Come on. This is me writing here.

Click to shrink...

yes, i expect you to have him fully in character.
jokes aside though hes gonna put things together in seconds isnt he? pettigrew is fucked

 

[NonsensicalRants]

yes, i expect you to have him fully in character.
jokes aside though hes gonna put things together in seconds isnt he? pettigrew is fucked

Click to shrink...

You do not comprehend how fucked Pettigrew is yet. But you will in time.

 

[ExFelineServer3]

Okay, you know that Sirius is going to have to find Lyra some form of magical canine to make up for when her dog turns into a human. She is not going to be happy and probably rather depressed.

 

[Puga]

Tftc

 

[Sir Borks-a-Lot]

Oh this can go so many ways, and just about all of them would be so entertaining! Gib moar!

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Chapter 6:​

---

Professor Lupin stood nearly stock still in his staring contest with Scarfoot for several more moments before Lyra started to worry.

"Professor Lupin? Is everything alright?"

Lyra's question seemed to snap the professor out of his stupor. He blinked several times, looking between her and Scarfoot.

"Miss Malfoy?"

"Is there something wrong with my dog, sir?"

"Your dog? You own this dog?" Lupin clarified.

"Yes, sir. His name is Scarfoot."

"Scarfoot," Lupin murmured, seeming to try and hide a smirk but he wiped it away in favor of his more serious composure.

He went back to staring at the enormous black dog, who stood perfectly still beside Lyra. Was this a werewolf and dog thing? Sure it took her the whole first semester to figure out why Lupin disappeared every month, but a dog ought to smell it on him right away.

But no, Scarfoot was showing deference, more than he'd ever shown her at least. He crouched low with his tail between his legs. And were those puppydog eyes? When did he get those?

The staring contest was interrupted when Lupin's attention was drawn by the rat Ron had previously dropped, which was now scurrying away. Lupin watched it for a second before turning his attention back to Scarfoot. His face held the most confused, questioning expression she had ever seen. He glanced between Scarfoot and the rat several times, before turning his attention to the two students beside it.

She could tell he was thinking his words over carefully.

"Miss Malfoy, I need to examine your dog."

Lyra felt a sudden pang of panic and quashed it. No use imagining that her professor was going to take her dog away from her for good.

"Examine him? What for?"

"I have a suspicion that he may be suffering from a magical condition."

"What sort of condition?"

"I don't want to tell you because it will alarm you, and I'm probably wrong. It's only a hunch, but I must insist on checking to see if his physical condition is because of… well, a curse."

"He's been doing much better, Professor! He was terribly thin when I found him, but I've been feeding him properly, and he's already putting on weight."

"I'm pleased to hear that. Nevertheless, I must insist on examining him."

Lyra glanced down at Scarfoot. He was still staring at Lupin, his ears pressed backwards.

"Couldn't I bring him by after classes? I don't like leaving him with strangers."

"I'm afraid this cannot wait."

"But, Professor—"

"Miss Malfoy, you and Mr. Weasley have another class to attend, do you not?"

Lyra looked toward Ron, who had been watching the exchange with considerable confusion.

"Yes, sir," Ron admitted.

"Then I suggest you both go. I'll take Scarfoot into my office and examine him there. You can come get him after your next class."

Lyra hesitated.

"But he's my dog, Professor. Surely I ought to know what's wrong with him before you take him away."

Lupin's expression hardened.

"Miss Malfoy, I have already explained that I don't know what's wrong with him. That is precisely why I need to examine him. This is for his and your safety. This is very serious."

Lyra opened her mouth to protest again.

"Enough." His voice rose sharply. "I am giving you a direct instruction. Unless you would prefer to spend your entire weekend in detention, you will leave Scarfoot with me and proceed to your next class. Quickly. Is that understood?"

Lyra stared at him.

She had never heard Professor Lupin speak to a student like that. He was ordinarily so patient that even the most disruptive students seemed incapable of provoking him.

"Yes, sir," she answered quietly.

"Good. Now, off you go. Both of you."

Lyra reluctantly turned toward Scarfoot and knelt beside him and she noticed Lupin flinch for his wand again.

"Be good, alright? I'll come back for you as soon as I can."

She reached out to scratch him behind the ears, but Scarfoot stepped away from her and walked directly toward Lupin.

Lyra felt her face melt into a vision of horror at her dog choosing to go with somebody else instead of her. The entire motion felt like a rejection.

"Well, there we are," he said. "It seems Scarfoot is willing to cooperate."

Lyra rose to her feet, still feeling distinctly uneasy.

"Please take good care of him, Professor."

"I shall, Miss Malfoy. Now hurry along," he said, though his eyes did not leave Scarfoot. "Come by after lunch, I should be done by then."

Ron was already moving down the corridor. Lyra followed, glancing back over her shoulder.

Lupin stood beside the classroom door, watching Scarfoot enter ahead of him, before following him inside and closing the door behind him.

---

On Monday, Harry encountered Lyra's Grim in the library.

He was searching the shelves for a book on medieval witch hunts – which Binns STILL somehow had them studying – when something wet pressed against the back of his hand. Harry jerked away and nearly knocked an entire row of books onto the floor.

Scarfoot stood beside him, wagging his tail and panting heavily in a way that sounded like laughter.

He heard a shush from the stacks and realized he must have yelped in a very unmanly manner on the way down.

"What are you doing here?" Harry hiss-whispered.

The dog responded by pushing his enormous head beneath Harry's hand, demanding to be petted. Harry recoiled and scurried to his feet, and away from the dog.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

Scarfoot seemed unconcerned. He sniffed at Harry's robes, circled him twice, and settled across his feet.

Harry tried to step away, but the dog refused to budge. He was surprisingly heavy for such a thin animal.

"Move, you great lump."

Scarfoot rolled onto his back, exposing his stomach.

Harry stared at him.

"Oh, for heaven's sake."

He crouched and gave the dog a reluctant scratch. Scarfoot closed his eyes in apparent bliss, stretching his legs until he occupied most of the aisle.

Harry had just begun to enjoy himself when Madam Pince appeared around the corner.

"Potter! What is that animal doing in my library?"

"He's not mine!"

"Then remove him!"

Harry grabbed Scarfoot by the collar and attempted to haul him upright. The dog went limp, leaving Harry struggling with several stone of uncooperative canine.

"Come on!" Harry hissed.

Scarfoot wagged his tail against the floor in seeming joy at the trouble he was causing.

Madam Pince pointed toward the doors.

"Out! Both of you!"

Harry eventually managed to coax Scarfoot onto his feet, only for the dog to seize the hem of his robes and tug him toward the exit.

"Alright, I'm coming!"

As soon as they emerged into the hallway, Harry squirmed out of his robe and took off in a sprint. Scarfoot barked and ran after him.

"Impedimenta!" Harry yelled, nailing the tedious animal with the spell.

The dog continued to try and chase him in slow motion, but Harry took the opportunity to get away. Naturally Scarfoot found him in his next class, carrying his robe to return to him.

---

On Tuesday, Scarfoot stole Harry's Monster Book of Monsters.

Harry was halfway down the hill toward Hagrid's hut when the dog emerged from behind a tree, snatched the book from beneath his arm, and raced away.

"HEY! GIVE THAT BACK!"

Scarfoot stopped twenty yards away and looked over his shoulder, trotting in a way much more like a proud stallion than an emaciated mutt.

Harry ran toward him. The dog waited until he was almost within reach before bounding away again.

For the next several minutes, Harry chased him around the grounds while the rest of the class watched in amusement.

"He's playing with you!" Hermione called.

"I NOTICED!"

Scarfoot finally stopped beside a large rock and dropped the book onto the grass. Harry approached carefully, expecting another trick.

"Stay."

The dog sat.

"Good. Now leave it."

Harry bent to retrieve his textbook.

Scarfoot seized it again.

"Oh, you little—"

Harry lunged, caught the book by its cover, and pulled. Scarfoot resisted just long enough to make Harry put his weight into the struggle before abruptly releasing it.

Harry landed on his backside.

The Monster Book sprang open and began snapping at his fingers.

Scarfoot barked delightedly.

Harry wrestled the book shut and glared at him.

By the time Harry reached Hagrid's hut, his robes were covered in grass stains and Hermione was still laughing.

Lyra looked at him questioningly and Harry shook his head. He was glad she hadn't been there to see any of that. He didn't know why.

Lyra shooed Scarfoot away

"You can't be in this class. Familiars aren't allowed for obvious reasons. Go back to the castle, I'll see you next period."

To Harry's surprise, the dog obeyed and ran back up to the castle.

---

On Wednesday night, Harry discovered that his Invisibility Cloak was useless against Scarfoot.

He had missed dinner after falling asleep over his homework and decided to sneak down to the kitchens for something to eat. Thankfully Fred and George told him where it was and how to open it. He was halfway through the third-floor corridor reminiscing on the now normal classroom that once housed fluffy. It was then that he heard claws clicking against the stone behind him.

Harry turned.

Scarfoot stood at the far end of the passage, staring directly at him.

Harry looked down at his invisible body.

"How can you see me?" he asked stupidly, before realizing it could probably just smell and hear him.

The dog trotted toward him, sniffed the air, and seized the dangling edge of the cloak.

"Hey! Let go!"

Scarfoot pulled.

Harry grabbed the fabric with both hands, which the dog took as an invitation to play tug-of-war. After several seconds of struggling, Scarfoot gave a tremendous yank and pulled the cloak clean off him.

"SCARFOOT!" he hiss-yelled, just like in the library on Monday.

The dog bounded away with the silvery fabric trailing from his mouth.

Harry chased him through two corridors and down a staircase, desperately trying to keep his footsteps quiet. Every time he came close, Scarfoot accelerated just enough to stay out of reach.

"Come back here, you great hairy idiot!" he grumbled, careful not to be too loud.

Scarfoot stopped at the next corner and barked.

"SHHH!"

A door opened somewhere above them.

"Who's there?" Filch called.

Harry froze. Scarfoot did too.

The dog looked toward the approaching footsteps, then trotted back and deposited the cloak at Harry's feet.

"Oh, now you give it back!"

Harry snatched it up and disappeared beneath it.

Scarfoot led him down another staircase before scratching at a brick on the wall. When Harry pressed it the wall opened to a deserted passage, eventually stopping outside the kitchens.

Harry stared at the painting of the fruit bowl.

"You knew where I was going?"

Scarfoot sat and wagged his tail.

Harry shook his head and tickled the pear.

When he emerged fifteen minutes later with a sandwich and freshly fried, medium-rare steak, the dog was still waiting for him. Just like he'd hoped.

"Here," Harry whispered, tossing him the steak. "Peace offering. Go away."

The dog accepted the meat but instead of going away he lay down and feasted on it. This did give Harry the opportunity to escape.

---

On Thursday, Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower and discovered Scarfoot sleeping in front of the fireplace.

Several younger students were gathered around him. One was brushing his coat while another scratched his stomach. Crookshanks lay curled against his side, apparently enjoying the warmth.

Harry stopped in the middle of the common room and stared at the peculiar scene.

"How did he get in here?"

"We let him in," Denni answered from beside his yearmates.

Harry looked around the room. Nobody else seemed remotely concerned that an enormous black dog had somehow gained access to their common room.

"Does Malfoy even know he's here?"

"Dunno," said a girl whose name he never bothered to learn.

Scarfoot opened his eyes.

The moment he spotted Harry, he scrambled to his feet and bounded across the room, scattering the students around him.

Harry barely had time to brace himself before the dog planted both front paws against his chest and began licking his face.

"Ugh! Get off!"

Scarfoot continued enthusiastically.

"Alright! Alright!"

Harry started laughing as he tried to fend him off. The dog finally dropped onto all fours, wagging his tail so violently that his entire backside swayed.

"You're absolutely ridiculous."

Harry knelt and scratched him behind both ears.

Scarfoot pressed his enormous head against Harry's chest, nearly knocking him backward.

"Steady on!"

The dog gave a happy whine.

Harry wrapped an arm around his neck and continued scratching him.

He didn't know why the dog was so obsessed with him, but he was starting to appreciate it.

"You're a good boy, aren't you?" Harry murmured. "Even if you are a complete menace. I hope you're this bad with Malfoy too."

Harry found a seat and started on his homework. Scarfoot remained beside him for the homework session with his head on Harry's feet. Harry would occasionally reach down to scratch his ears and other students would occasionally come by to deliver head pats of their own.

When the bell chimed for eight, Scarfoot got up and went to the portrait exit and scratched at the bottom to be let out.

"Stand aside, noble beast! I shall grant thee passage!" Sir Cadogan declared, swinging his portrait open to let the dog out.

---

On Friday, Harry went the entire morning without seeing Scarfoot.

At first, he considered it a welcome change. He managed to reach breakfast without being ambushed, attended his first class without having his robes stolen, and even made it through the next without a gigantic black dog appearing from nowhere to torment him.

By midmorning, however, he had begun looking over his shoulder.

Every time he rounded a corner, he half expected Scarfoot to come bounding toward him. Whenever he heard footsteps behind him, he turned to check whether they belonged to a dog. At one point, he caught himself watching a classroom door for several minutes, wondering if Scarfoot would somehow manage to open it after growing hands.

By lunchtime, Harry was oddly disappointed.

He had grown accustomed to the ridiculous animal's company. Even the constant harassment had become something to look forward to, although Harry would have denied that if anyone asked.

Friday was a short day for him, and Harry decided to take his lunch outside rather than eat in the Great Hall. He collected a sandwich and a few other things from the kitchens, wrapped them in a handkerchief, and headed down toward the lake.

The weather was chilly but pleasant enough, and he knew a quiet spot along the shore where he could eat without being disturbed. Unfortunately, someone had beaten him to it.

Lyra Malfoy sat beneath a tree near the water, her knees drawn up against her chest. Harry considered turning around and finding somewhere else to eat, but something about the way she was sitting made him hesitate.

Then she wiped her face with her sleeve.

Harry stopped.

Was she crying?

He stood there for several seconds, uncertain what to do. He had never seen Malfoy cry before, and he suspected she would be furious if she knew he'd caught her doing it.

He could probably leave without her noticing.

But this was a girl crying, and he was a chivalrous Gryffindor.

"Malfoy?"

Her head snapped toward him.

"Potter!"

She hurriedly wiped her cheeks and glared at him.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing. I was just going to eat lunch."

"Then go eat it somewhere else!"

Harry glanced at the lake, then back at her. Her eyes were red, and fresh tears were already gathering despite her obvious determination to stop them.

He reached into his pocket and produced a handkerchief.

"Here."

Lyra stared at it.

"What?"

"For your face."

"I know what a handkerchief is for, Potter! I just never took you for a gentleman who carried one."

She snatched it from him and dabbed at her eyes.

Harry decided against mentioning that she was completely right about him never carrying one around and that he only had this one because it had been wrapped around his sandwich. Or that he'd eaten it while still in said hankerchief and he'd wiped his face with it afterwards. It would ruin the gesture.

He stood awkwardly beside her while she composed herself.

"Did somebody do something?" he asked eventually.

"No."

"Right."

Lyra blew her nose and Harry dutifully turned away to give her the privacy to do so and still feel like a lady. For a moment, he considered leaving her alone. Then he remembered that he hadn't seen Scarfoot all morning.

"Where's your dog, anyway?"

Lyra's expression crumpled.

"Oh, brilliant!" she snapped, wiping at her eyes again. "Thank you very much for reminding me!"

Harry blinked.

"What?"

"Professor Lupin took him!"

Harry scowled at her. Well, at Lupin but he wasn't there right now to get a glare from him.

"He what?"

"He took Scarfoot this morning! Said he needed to examine him for some sort of curse, and he wouldn't even let me stay!"

"Why would Scarfoot be cursed?"

"I don't know! He wouldn't tell me!"

Harry frowned.

"That's ridiculous!"

"That's what I said!"

Harry looked toward the castle. Professor Lupin had always seemed reasonable to him, but keeping someone's familiar without explaining why was going too far.

"He can't just take your dog."

"Apparently he can!"

"Well, he shouldn't!"

Lyra looked at him, seemingly surprised to find him agreeing with her.

Harry sat down beside her, setting his lunch on the grass.

"Scarfoot's been following me around all week," he admitted.

"I know."

"You do?"

"Of course I do. Half the school has been telling me about it. Accusing me of siccing him on you."

Harry felt scandalized that he himself hadn't thought to accuse her of that.

"Right."

"He seems to like you."

"He has a funny way of showing it."

Lyra gave a small, reluctant snort.

Harry smiled.

"He stole my textbook on Tuesday."

"I heard from Granger."

"And my Invisibility Cloak on Wednesday."

That earned him a proper look.

"He did what?"

"Ran off with it. Nearly got me caught by Filch."

Lyra shook her head, but he could tell she was trying to hide a smirk.

Before either of them could say anything else, a flutter of wings interrupted them as small brown owl landed directly in front of Harry. It held out one leg, to which a folded note had been attached.

Harry untied the parchment.

"Who's that from?" Lyra asked.

"Professor Lupin."

Her expression darkened.

Harry unfolded the letter and read.

Dear Harry,

Would you please come to my classroom as soon as you receive this? There is something I would like to discuss with you.

Oh, and do bring Miss Malfoy with you, since you're sitting right next to her.

Yes, I can see you both from my office window.

Ronald is already here.

Professor R. J. Lupin
​

Harry handed the parchment to Lyra and looked toward the castle.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was on the third floor, and after a moment of searching, he thought he could make out a figure standing beside an open window. It was definitely waving at them.

"You're joking." Lyra groaned before jumping to her feet and brushing her bottom clear of snow and dirt.

"Well, let's go get my dog back."

---

Notes:

Apologies for the chronological backtracking in this chapter. Jumping from Friday back to the preceding Monday to show Harry's POV of the week leading up to the opening scene is really not my style.

As you can probably tell, yes, that was supposed to be in the previous chapter.

Thanks as always to Seru for commissioning this chapter, to my patrons, and to fans like you.

 

[BlueCladOne]

Bonding through shared outrage

 

[FoxGirlFan]

Can i just say that this is my favorite HP fic ever? You give details and fill in the world in ways i never knew i wanted. Its brilliant.

 

[NonsensicalRants]

Can i just say that this is my favorite HP fic ever? You give details and fill in the world in ways i never knew i wanted. Its brilliant.

Click to shrink...

You should read my other stuff. If you prefer comedy and romance go with "The Marauding champions". If you want action and Horror with even superior worldbuilding? Go with my masterpiece, "Harry Potter and the Blood-Soaked succession"