Good dog

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There is a lush oak tree in the Hogwarts gardens. Lying on the knots of wood, Remus reads aloud and Lily listens with her head leaning on her leg, thus fueling school rumors and jealousy teenagers. There are three days left until Remus's birthday but Lily has anticipated his gift and now the two of them enjoy a first edition of "The importance of Being Ernest".

"I found it in London, near the Diagon Alley. Wilde always reminds me of you. Always".

Each book, every story. Especially this one, which is fun and light and yet stinks of pain behind every irony, distills a trace of bitterness, a regret deep and modest, which hides behind a half-smile. Sounds like, if instead of reading, Remus was writing on the go. Like Wilde would have been a poor werewolf, looking at the world from a corner, expelled from paradise.

She's entertained in his voice, thinking of writers and werewolves when the dog approaches. Her first reaction is to think she's hallucinating. It has a menacing silhouette, very long legs, a woolly tail, and a strange expression as if it were too human. Remus stops reading abruptly but it is Lily who stands up when the dog starts to get nearer. Gentle, with his ears down and without a hint of aggressiveness.

- Look at this beautiful dog - she approaches it cautiously. Spread a hand to gauge the animal's reaction and smile when the dog, which nearby seems to be even blacker and brighter, sticks out his tongue and stands on his back paws. - Good boy, what is it? are you lost?

She strokes it behind its ears, searching for a necklace. Nothing.- You don't have an owner, handsome? - and she digs her fingers into the hair on the back, feeling a kind of sudden sympathy. - How did you get here? - She turns to look at Remus as if she were asking the question right to him, but suddenly his expression is difficult to define, between incredulous and irritated.

- I'm sure is full of fleas.

- Do not say that. Poor thing.

The huge animal barks in the direction of Remus, who still seems irritated.- They must have abandoned him. Don't tell me it's not a pity.

- Infinite- ironizes.

- Don't be like that, Remus. He just wants to be stroked. Aren't you, handsome?

Two barks. The dog nods as if it were part of the conversation.- You see?

The animal takes a couple of steps towards Remus. It shines with a magical intensity, seeks the shade of the tree, and waits, sitting on the hind legs, looking in Remus's direction with a soothing and intelligent expression. Lily can't explain it, she thinks she's being a victim of some spell but she would swear that something happens at that moment between them. A conversation that no one except man and animal can hear. The dog waits, lowers his head slightly and Remus seems to surrender to a shred of evidence that for Lily is a mystery. Sighing, he gives in, stretches his hands, and strokes the dog's head, which immediately lies down next to him and wags his tail against the ground, panting faster. He caressed its head and Remus scratches it's neck and touches its ears. He has the hands of a painter, long, well-drawn fingers that slide on the dog's back, until the animal closes its eyes and yawns, allowing itself to be patted. His fingers search for the stomach, rub and slide and after a while, the dog seems asleep, his nose resting on Remus's leg, right where Lily had it earlier.

- Remus, mind you, I think this dog loves you.

It's a casual comment but Remus's sigh doesn't sound like it.

- Nah, he's just an easy dog.

The animal protests with an intermittent series of barks. A puff of Spring breeze shakes the oak branches and Lily leans against the tree.

Remus returns to the page he had left, reading aloud to her and for the dog, who seems half-asleep in his lap, safe from anger and impatience. Remus turns the pages with one hand. The other rests, leaving uneven furrows in the hair on the back, write in an alphabet unknown only understandable between animals in a sort of a secret language. The dog closes its eyes and Lily lets herself go as well, in compass with the soothing calm it inspires.

Before nightfall, the dog raises its head, looks carefully with its pricked ears, and runs off towards Severus Snape, who is walking through the garden at that time in the direction of the Slytherin Tower and has to run for three hundred meters, out of breath, to get rid of the monstrous flea sack that keeps biting his robes.

- You're going to laugh, Remus, but it's like that dog will remind me of someone.

- Seriously?

Lily looks at Snape's angry pranks and thinks the dog is having fun, barking, playing, messing around.

- Yes, I think my sister Petunia's boyfriend.

Remus can't help it. His laughter is heard in every corner of the gardens.

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