It’s strange how quiet the flat feels when you’re alone.

Not bad quiet. Just… empty.

Fred had left early that morning for the shop. He’d kissed your forehead absentmindedly, already halfway through explaining some joke product name, and then he was gone.

And you were left with the silence.

Which is how you ended up outside a small pet shop tucked between a bakery and a robe tailor in Diagon Alley.

You weren’t planning to go in.

You absolutely weren’t planning to leave with a dog.

But then you saw him.

Tiny. Slightly cross-eyed. Ears too big for his head. Staring at the world like he’d just arrived and wasn’t entirely sure why.

And before you could think, you were signing papers.

Now you’re sitting on the floor of your flat, the little creature wobbling toward you with clumsy paws, and you pull out your phone and text Fred.

i did something.

The reply comes suspiciously fast.

That sentence has never once ended well for me.

You bite your lip, grinning, then crouch and snap a picture. The puppy’s tongue is halfway out. He looks like he’s buffering.

You send it.

Three dots.

Gone.

Three dots.

Then

YOU GOT A DOG?

You wince.

Another message.

WITHOUT TELLING ME

You can practically hear him shouting across the shop, George asking what’s wrong.

The dog sneezes.

Your phone buzzes again.

Look at his stupid little face

A pause.

it looks like he has no thoughts

You laugh out loud.

The puppy trips over his own paws and rolls onto his back dramatically.

Another message.

I love it

Your heart did that soft, traitorous thing it always did.

I´m coming over. Tell him his dad is on the way!

You laughed out loud this time, the puppy’s head snapping toward you like he was concerned.