When Harry arrived at Douglas Holmes's house the next morning, brought by Dobby, he immediately noticed something new—a large, scruffy black dog lounging in the living room.
According to Douglas's plan, until Harry uncovered the truth himself, Sirius couldn't reveal his true identity in front of him.
Curious, Harry turned to Dobby.
"When did my uncle get a dog? There wasn't one here when I left yesterday."
Dobby fidgeted nervously, eyes darting to the floor. He hated lying to Harry Potter, but Douglas had made it clear—this was one secret Harry couldn't know just yet.
"Dobby… Dobby… Good morning, sir!" he blurted as Douglas emerged from the bedroom, then scurried off to busy himself with chores.
Douglas stepped in smoothly.
"Picked up a stray last night. His name's Padfoot."
Harry raised an eyebrow at the name and glanced at the black dog. Padfoot? What an odd choice. And why did it feel like those deep, complicated eyes were staring straight through him? Still, Harry gave a polite greeting.
"Good morning, Padfoot!"
The words seemed to strike a nerve. The thin, ragged dog suddenly burst into tears, staring at Harry and whimpering.
Harry jumped back, flustered.
"Professor, your dog's crying! I swear I didn't do anything to him!"
All day, Harry found Padfoot's behavior more and more peculiar. The dog watched him like a long-lost brother—never barking, never making a fuss, just curling up beside him while he did his homework, eyes fixed on him the whole time.
Harry couldn't help but suspect his uncle had found a dog specifically to keep an eye on him while he worked.
So it went: Sirius played the loyal dog by day, keeping vigil over Harry's homework, and at night, he returned to human form to help Douglas with magical research. After a week of this strange arrangement, the Grangers arrived, arms laden with gifts and Hermione in tow.
The moment the doorbell rang, Harry and Dobby both dropped their pens and raced for the door.
Watching them, Douglas shook his head and muttered to Sirius, who was sprawled on the floor,
"See that? He'll seize any excuse to put down his pen and take a break…"
Sirius barked in protest, disgruntled. He'd complained about this to Douglas more than once—how, back at the Potters' during summer holidays, the elder Potters would never assign extra work after homework was done. Douglas, on the other hand, was relentless.
When Hermione learned the truth about Douglas and Harry's relationship, she clapped her hands over her mouth in shock. But beneath the surprise, she was genuinely happy for Harry.
From that day on, the Holmes house was bustling once again. Every morning, Dobby would fetch Harry and Hermione, and every evening, he'd return them home.
Compared to the warmth and harmony inside the Holmes residence, the wizarding world outside was in chaos. The Ministry still hadn't found the escaped Sirius Black, and panic was everywhere.
To spare Sirius's feelings, Douglas had stopped subscribing to the Daily Prophet—its front page was plastered with Sirius's wanted poster every day.
Holidays flew by. In the blink of an eye, it was just a week before the new term.
Harry and Hermione had arranged to meet Ron in Diagon Alley that day. They'd hoped Douglas would take them, but he claimed he was busy and arranged for Dobby to escort them instead.
Douglas handed them a small package of pet food, earning puzzled looks from both Harry and Hermione.
"This is for Ron's pet, Scabbers. For a rat that old, making it this far is no small feat. I had this specially made for him…"
Harry noticed that the moment Douglas mentioned the rat, Padfoot's eyes flashed red—he looked almost rabid for a second.
This outing also marked Dobby's first time entering the wizarding world as the Holmes family's butler.
Douglas entrusted him with the manuscript of his new book, Throne of Magic, to deliver to Mr. Slane at the Silent Publishing Company. Douglas had spent ages pondering the delicate balance between the magical and Muggle worlds, and believed it was time for a book exploring the fusion of magic and technology. Though he'd borrowed ideas from elsewhere, he'd rebuilt the story from the ground up for the wizarding world, crafting a unique magical system.
He'd even inscribed the front page: "Dedicated to students who excelled in the 1993 Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.s."
Of course, the Muggle edition had a different title and was the original work in disguise.
Hermione and Harry were both wildly envious…
They also understood why Douglas wasn't keen on venturing into wizarding society. With the new term approaching, Hogwarts would soon have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Though Douglas hadn't technically resigned, everyone seemed to take it for granted.
Even the Daily Prophet had started a prize contest: guess the next Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and win 500 Galleons from the Malfoy family. Douglas had Dobby submit his own name—the only vote for Douglas Holmes.
When Dobby, dressed smartly in clothes, led Harry and Hermione into the Leaky Cauldron, the place erupted in whispers. A house-elf who'd left the Malfoys, back in wizarding London and wearing clothes? Scandalous.
Harry was baffled when Mrs. Weasley scolded Douglas for letting him wander around alone. He tried to explain he was with Dobby and Hermione, but it didn't seem to help.
Back at the Holmes house—
After Harry and the others left, Douglas sat with Sirius—now back in human form—drinking tea and waiting.
During his stay, Sirius's health had steadily improved. Though he still looked melancholy, at least he resembled a proper human being again.
"Doug, are you sure Dumbledore will believe me? Why make things so complicated?"
Douglas nearly choked on his pastry, but managed to swallow it down with a sip of tea before replying, calm as ever,
"I'll handle Dumbledore. You don't need to worry about anything else.
Just promise me—until they uncover the truth themselves, stick to the plan. No improvising. You're not just the boss villain for the students; you're a vital piece in changing the wizarding world.
All you need to remember is: we're working so Harry can one day live in a fair and just magical society."
Sirius snorted, unmoved. He'd heard this speech so many times, it barely registered anymore. All he cared about was catching the traitor and protecting James's son.
At precisely ten o'clock, a sharp knock sounded at the door.
Douglas rose and opened it.
"Good morning, Headmaster Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore's gaze swept past Douglas and landed on Sirius, eyes instantly sharpening.
"Douglas, I expect a perfect explanation."
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