𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐒 2008

Things Are Gonna Change, I Can Feel It

Author: aurieal
Title: Things Are Gonna Change, I Can Feel It
Pairing(s): H/D, very tiny small hint of R/H
Rating: PG, at the most
Summary: Harry Potter needed something different
Warnings (if any): none
Total word count: 1883

Things Are Gonna Change, I Can Feel It

There wasn't much to do, now that the war was over. Well, there was rebuilding, of course, and the stray Death Eater that needed taken care of, but after the trials for the key players were complete, Harry didn't quite know what to do. He was sure everyone expected him to go into Auror training, but he'd honestly had enough fighting for this lifetime. There was Quidditch, but the more Harry thought of it, the less he liked the idea of playing professionally. It wouldn't be anything like playing at school.

No, Harry Potter needed something different.

The Idea, as he referred to it, came when he was watching Teddy one day, and it all seemed to blindingly obvious, he didn't know how he hadn't thought of it before. Number 12 was perfect, and Harry was sure Kreacher wouldn't mind at all taking care of more than just himself. He would open Number 12 to the public, a home for people who needed one, a family for people who needed one. A sanctuary.

Hermione thought The Idea was a bad one. Didn't Harry want to start a family of his own? Didn't he want to settle down and finally live a peaceful life? It was Ron, in the end, who gently told her to hush and to let Harry live the way he wanted. So Harry opened Number 12, taking in as many people as he had room for, and then a few extra. Some people moved on after a few days, some stayed longer. Harry never asked them to pay, though some gave donations of what they could afford, be it money, food, or clothes. All Harry asked was that everyone be peaceful and civil to one another, and that everyone who could, who wasn't working or otherwise, attend a "family" supper at least a few times a week.

Harry and his family lived quite happily for some time. Until he was twenty-one, the House had only taken in those in need of the human variety. But on a soggy day in March of 2001, Harry came home from the grocer's to find a skinny, white dog sitting on his front step. Harry blinked at the dog. The dog blinked back. Harry shrugged and unlocked the door, holding it open expectantly. When the dog didn't move, Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Are you coming in or not?" he asked. As if the dog had understood him, he stepped forward slowly, head lowered until his nose was nearly touching the ground. "Don't step off the rug, I'll dry you," Harry instructed, smiling as the dog did as he was told. It wasn't a normal dog, that much was obvious. In fact, the way he behaved while Harry cast a drying spell reminded him painfully of how Sirius had acted. Obviously, there was some reason for him hiding behind his Animagus form, and while Harry was curious, to say the least, he kept his questions to himself, patting the side of his leg as he started for the kitchen.

"Come on, then," he called lightly, smiling at the sound of the dog's claws clicking against the floor. Harry led him into the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the table before he started putting away the groceries. When he didn't hear the sound of the dog jumping up onto the chair, he glanced over his shoulder. The dog almost looked accusing, as if he was damning Harry for allowing an animal to sit at the dining table. It was such a ridiculous look for a dog that Harry had to laugh. "Go on, then," he coaxed, grinning. "Besides, it's not like you aren't a person." The dog took a few steps away and Harry paused in his unpacking, turning and leaning against the counter. "Yes, I know you're an Animagus. And you have nothing to be afraid of. This is meant to be a sanctuary. You're safe here." The dog took a hesitant step forward and Harry smiled reassuringly, nodding as he returned to his unpacking. He could hear the dog take another few steps, then the scratch of claws on wood as he hopped up onto the chair. Once Harry had everything put away, he glanced over his shoulder. "I hope you like Shepherd's Pie. Made it for supper last night, and we were lucky enough to have some leftovers."