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Chapter Text

In the wake of the Battle of Hogwarts, time didn’t seem to be passing properly.

In all honesty, Draco had been blurring the line between sleep and wakefulness since the summer before his sixth year. Nightmares would not be confined to night when the Dark Lord claimed your home, your family, your youth.

But in the days following the Dark Lord’s death, Draco truly began to wonder whether he would ever be fully conscious again.

His days wore past him eerily dreamlike, decisions apparently happening without his remembering when or how to make them. Now, he left the battle, and no one stopped him. Now, he escorted his mother to the front step of the Manor, and she did not argue when he kissed her cheek in leaving. Now, he waited in a sea of blank eyes to give his name to the wizard at the large refuge tent, and the man only briefly paused in recognition before passing him a small bundle of essentials and waving him along.

His nights were, of course, sleepless. If the restless sounds of grief and panic throughout the tent didn’t keep him awake, his own restless grief and panic would.

It was in this state of slow response and foggy details that Draco found himself at the reception desk of a small hospital for magical creatures. He’d been sent by a petite, authoritative woman from the refuge, who had run out of bandages for curse-wounds, and apparently thought Draco had a willing enough look about him. She’d directed him here, saying the little hospital would not be as overwhelmed as St. Mungo’s, and would more likely have supplies to spare.

The witch at the reception desk wore a simple beige uniform and a smooth badge that read Mindy. His lagging mind registered dimly that she seemed to recognize him, and she wrinkled her nose.

“A Death Eater in my shop… not eight days have passed… has no one any shame?”

He dropped his eyes to the counter before him, and wordlessly handed her the note from the refuge. She read the request, but continued to mutter as she retreated to the back to gather the bandages.

Staring absently at a plain clock above the counter, Draco noted that he wasn’t sure he could really distinguish between seconds and minutes, lately.

Then, at a quiet shifting behind him, Draco turned.

Near the entrance of the shop, looking neutrally up at him, was a dog. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed it, but then, he supposed he wasn’t really at his most observant.

Draco wasn’t actually very familiar with dogs. As they watched each other thoughtfully, he considered that it was rather larger than a cat, its height nearly reaching the table beside it. It also appeared too thin, he thought, its ribs and joints oddly prominent. The dog held his gaze rather seriously.

A sharp tut sounded behind him, and Mindy piled an armful of bandages on the counter. She shook her head at the dog.

“It’s disgraceful, the things your lot did. What you all broke and ruined. And it’s the innocents who suffered for it, and it’s the innocents who still suffer in the mess you left behind.”

She was gesturing at the dog as she spoke, and Draco was too blank to process what she meant. She scoffed again.

“This poor creature belonged to a young couple. Just married, just bought a house. Word of their blood status got to the wrong people a few months back, and they were found dead in their front garden within the week.”

Draco blinked down at the counter again.

“The neighbors put out food for this little love, but she hardly ate for grief. Someone brought her to us two days ago, hoping she’d find a new home now the war’s ended.”

Draco looked over his shoulder again, and found the dog still watching him. Waiting.

“Alright,” he said, to the dog. He straightened.

“Alright,” he said, to Mindy.

Mindy squinted at him. “Alright?”

“I’ll take her,” he said.

~~

Chapter Text

Draco let the door of the creature hospital fall closed behind him, and found he had no plan beyond that.

He took a moment to evaluate his position. Before letting him leave, Mindy had questioned him thoroughly regarding his intentions for the dog, threatened to personally seek revenge on him if he did not provide a safe and good home for her, and sent him on his way with a heavy bag of various supplies. Now, Draco looked down to where the dog stood at his side. She was seemingly satisfied with this turn of events.

As a child, Draco had known better than to ask his parents for a pet. It was understood that Malfoys were above such things, that they would not belittle the elegance of the Manor that way. Besides, Draco knew, purebloods ought to have more respectable creature companions, like snakes. Or particularly haughty cats.

He couldn’t even recall, now, whether he’d ever actually interacted with a dog. The families he’d known growing up would have considered dogs to be terribly common, and they weren’t among the pets allowed for students at Hogwarts.

He’d read about them a bit, though. He took it as a good sign that this one stayed patiently by his side, awaiting his lead instead of tugging ahead against the short leash.

Draco remembered the bandages in his bag, and looked once more at the dog before setting off in the direction of the refuge.

~~

The woman did not reach to accept the bundle of bandages when Draco offered them. She gaped openly between his face and the attentive dog.

“How- why do you have a dog?” she asked.

“I brought the bandages. From the creature hospital.”

“Yes, fine,” she said, waving them distractedly away. “Was it a two-for-one special?”

“She needed a place to stay.”

The woman gaped at him, like she was missing something. Or maybe he was.

“You need a place to stay, dear.” She gestured broadly around the tent. “You’re living in a refuge tent.”

Draco looked down at the dog. She was sniffing at the floor.

“Can she not stay?” he asked the woman. He hadn’t actually considered this far.

“Where would you keep her, child? Is she trained? Do you have a crate?”

“I don’t- um. I hadn’t thought about it, yet.”

“You hadn’t thought about it,” she repeated.

“I’ll just- we’ll go. Sorry.”

Her face went a bit exasperated, like he was trying her patience intentionally.

“Come, now. Just take the animal back to the hospital. There’s no sense in giving up your own safe shelter for a pet.”

“I’ve just remembered, I have relatives who will take me. Thanks for- just, thank you.”

Draco turned from the woman before she could argue, adjusted the bag of dog supplies on his shoulder, and left.

~~

Walking through town, avoiding the busiest roads whenever possible, Draco met several odd looks. He knew he was very recognizable as a Malfoy, despite his current lack of sleep and hygiene. He could see the beginnings of glares from passersby, quickly cut off by open bewilderment when they saw the dog trotting contentedly at his side. He observed distantly that this would have been a clever plan for avoiding confrontation, had he done it intentionally.

The first post office they reached had a sign fixed to the door, indicating that the owner would be away making funeral arrangements for relatives until further notice. Under the note was a small, hand-drawn map to the nearest alternative, several blocks over.

When they reached the second post office, Draco entered cautiously, hoping he’d be allowed inside with the dog. The man at the front was deep in conversation with an older lady, and paused to glance pointedly at them, but thankfully said nothing.

Draco dipped his hand into the small pouch of coins his mother had pressed on him several days ago. It was all the money she’d been able to find in the moments between their arriving at the Manor and his hasty flee from it. He didn’t know if the Ministry would have frozen or seized their accounts at Gringotts, and any time he tried to think about it, his thoughts darted quickly elsewhere. So, for now, this would have to be enough.

Selecting a smallish owl, he picked up a quill and some parchment. He paused to watch for a moment as the dog’s wide eyes darted swiftly between the many blinking birds around the room. She glanced up at him, entranced, before sitting abruptly to calm her wiggling tail.

Draco straightened the parchment on the wooden platform before him, and set to writing.

Pansy,

You know I wouldn’t ask if I could go anywhere else. You don’t owe me this, obviously.

Do you have a couch? A spare bit of floor even? Just for a bit, and I won’t get in the way.

I can’t go back to the Manor.

Let me know.

DM

He hesitated for a moment, staring at his letter. Looking down at the dog. She looked back up at him.

He folded the letter, writing Pansy’s name on the outside. He tied it snugly to the owl’s waiting leg, handing it a coin and hoping it would find her.

The dog startled a bit as the owl swooped over her head on its way out. They both watched it go, and then turned in silent agreement to take their leave.

~~

On the paved path outside, Draco paused, unsure where to go next.

He felt a nudge on his leg, just above his knee, and looked down at the dog. She held his eyes, expectantly, and nudged his leg again with her nose. She shifted her weight between her feet pointedly.

He widened his eyes, and jumped quickly into action.

Behind one of the buildings they found an open space of dirt and leaves, and Draco nodded at the dog stiffly. Feeling stupid, he turned his back to give her privacy while she, presumably, did her business. When she returned to his side a minute later, he quickly glanced at what she’d left behind, unsure what to do. If he’d just had his damned wand-

He cleared away that thought.

Deciding his karma was already beyond repair anyway, he turned away, returning with the dog to the pavement.

The foot traffic had cleared a bit between the shops on this road, so Draco found a bench and sat. The dog seemed to agree to this plan, turning to face the road and sit comfortably on the ground beside him.

Draco opened the bag he’d gotten from the creature hospital, and took inventory. He found a medium-sized sack of dry dog food, two flimsy bowls, a small blanket, a handful of treats. The woman, Mindy, had told him these supplies were just to get them started, and that he’d need to visit the large pet supply shop in Diagon Alley as soon as possible.

He poured a bit of the food into one of the bowls, unsure of how much the dog was supposed to eat. He then eyed the dog’s upsettingly skinny frame, and was reminded, reluctantly, of Potter. Of oversized Muggle clothes hanging loosely over too-sharp limbs at the end of every summer. He shook the image from his head, and filled the bowl the rest of the way before setting it on the ground at his feet.

The dog sniffed gingerly at the bowl for a moment. Then she turned decidedly away, adjusting her weight on her paws.

Draco frowned. He pushed the bowl closer with his shoe, to no avail.

“Well?” he prompted her. She glanced up at him, bent to sniff at the bowl, and refocused on him.

“Listen, dog. I know you’re hungry. This is what we’ve got. You need to eat.”

She sneezed gently at him, and returned to hold his eyes stubbornly.

He started to worry, a bit. Was the dog sick? Was he going to add a dying dog to his already wrecked conscience?

Shifting his gaze across the now quiet road, ensuring no one was paying attention, he moved to sit on the ground. Grimacing, he scooped one hand into the bowl and lifted a smelly scattering of kibble to the dog’s nose. Standing, appearing quite pleased with herself, the dog set to work eating it.

Draco scoffed at the ridiculous animal. Here he sat on the dirty ground, homeless, grungy, and rapidly collecting dog slime in his hand. His father would-

Draco flinched, remembered.

The dog paused, watching him.

He filled his palm with more food and brought it again to her nose.

~~

A while later, the bowl was empty, the dog was napping peacefully on the ground, and Draco had returned to his spot on the bench. He was staring, eyes unfocused, at a moth circling a lantern in the dimming evening light across the road, when a familiar owl fluttered to a slow landing next to him.

He had not expected a reply so soon. He had not, honestly, expected a reply at all.

He unfolded the note to familiar, looped handwriting, and read:

Draco,

Quit being an insufferable idiot. It isn’t cute.

You’ll stay in my spare room, and you’ll get in my way as much as you like. For as long as you need. Or forever.

I placed a tracking spell on the owl, so stay where you are. I’ll be there soon.

Your hero,

Pansy

(P.S. Love you. Don’t be weird about it.)

~~