Harry was bored. Which, it went without saying, was extremely dangerous. Ron, Hermione, and Luna were all abroad for the first half of their summer break. Mama was busy coming up with lesson plans for her new teaching position and Harry was about to go crazy if he did any more homework.
That's how he found himself loitering around Diagon Alley. But there was only so much ogling at the new Firebolt broomstick mama had refused to buy him ("You're still grounded, absolutely not. No joy allowed!") before even that was boring. He wandered into Knockturn, waving to some familiar faces, the hags and the vampires that were truly quite friendly and always made interesting small talk. He wandered towards mama's derelict potions shop wedged between a used bookstore and the place that, for some reason, only sold shrunken heads. That shopkeeper unnerved even mama, but he always offered Harry an extremely expired and disgusting caramel candy, so Harry was perhaps the only person who thought he wasn't too bad.
"Hullo Victor!" He called as he entered mama's shop.
"Muuughhh," moaned Victor, an undead former apprentice of mama's and resident mostly-sentient ghoul. It looked like part of his face was starting to peel off again, a bit of his cheekbone was visible through his rotting flesh. Harry sighed and knitted the poor man's skin back together. "Maaahhhggg!" He thanked Harry and went back to his sweeping.
"No problem. Just thought I'd pass through. Mama's taken a post at Hogwarts, did she tell you? She's already told the Headmaster she'll need to step out once a month to manage things. I'll remind her to keep you in shape. We won't let your bones disintegrate again, I know that must have hurt."
"Muueeeehhh."
"Yeah, I know, it's pretty funny to think about. I'm sure she'll do a great job though. Anyway, I won't distract you." Harry took a look over the inventory while he was there. The shop wasn't very popular, it was mostly a ruse and a way to get some money back from mama's more unique experiments. It looked like the batch of fingernail dissolving solution had been sold, but not the one that made you speak French for several hours. Victor shuffled over to him and handed him a bag of coins, their earnings for the month.
Harry waved goodbye and started counting out the change. He was absolutely not considering spending it all on a fancy broomstick behind his mama's back. As he did that, he was distracted by a series of low growls coming from a side street. Harry followed the noise and came across a very large dog fighting a raccoon over a slice of pizza. Despite the grimm-like dog's obvious size and canine advantage over the raccoon, it appeared to be losing, as the cheese separated from the crust leaving the dog with only a bite of food. The raccoon bolted with its prize and the dog gave a deep sigh, its eyes haunted by loss. It was such a pitiful sight that Harry was immediately ensnared with the desire to rub the thing's face with his hands, all the while speaking to it like it was a little baby and not, in fact, a very large and dangerous hound.
"Puppy!" Harry shouted with glee. "Come here, puppy! I'll get you some food." The dog looked over at him at the mention of food. If a dog could do a spit-take, this one would have. Its eyes widened and the sadness dissolved off its face. The tail started to wag with such intensity that its whole body began to shake with the force of its excitement. Deep, unnatural barking rumbled from its chest and the dog nearly barreled over Harry in joy. The boy was promptly coated in saliva, fur, and mud. "Ok! Ok! Calm down!" He laughed. "You're filthy!" The dog rolled into his lap and let Harry smoosh its face with his hands. "You sure don't look like someone's pet, you're too skinny. Would you like to be my dog? I have lots of food and a forest full of creatures you could fight. I'm very good at taking care of pets. I have an owl and a bunch of snakes but none of them are alive and like to play with me very much. Oh, but mama won't let you stay if you get mud all over the house."
There was no amount of cleaning charms that could get the caked-in dirt out of the dog's coat, so Harry gave up and whisked them away into his bathroom. The dog whined in shock at the sudden transition but settled quickly enough once Harry started up the shower. He was under the impression that dogs didn't like water, but this one refused to get out from under the hot spray. It took sacrificing most of mama's shampoo and towels in his effort to get the dog clean. It also involved getting himself covered in water and wet fur in the process. He realized with horror that the bathroom was filthy; the dog shook out its fur and splattered the ceiling. It panted with joy.
"Ok," Harry said, dejected at the mess. Perhaps this was why mama hadn't let him have a dog before. "Let's go hide you in my room. I'll get you something to eat and then I have to clean this up before mama comes back."
The dog remained safely hidden in Harry's bedroom for three days, eating his way through all their eggs and several rotisserie chickens. Harry had briefly left the dog alone in his room for a grocery run. When he came back, mama was standing arms on her hips waiting for him.
"What do you have in your room?"
"Uh-"
"Because I went up there to grab your laundry and I saw a tail peeking out from underneath your bed."
"I was bored," Harry defended.
"Show me it," she ordered and dragged him upstairs.
.....
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