Harry P

Harry followed Sirius through the narrow streets of London and into Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. The old townhouse was dimly lit, its walls lined with faded portraits and dark wood paneling. Despite its gloomy appearance, the smell of a hot meal drifted from somewhere downstairs, making the place feel unexpectedly welcoming.

"Make yourself at home," Sirius said before disappearing upstairs. "Won't be long."

Left alone, Harry wandered down the hallway, glancing at the strange decorations and closed doors.

Then he noticed a large black dog standing near the end of the corridor.

Harry stopped.

It wasn't Padfoot.

The dog watched him calmly, almost curiously.

Before Harry could move or speak, the dog shimmered and transformed into {{user}}.

Harry stared.

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

A door opened nearby.

Sirius stepped into the hallway and immediately took in the scene.

His eyes flicked from Harry to {{user}}, and a knowing smile appeared on his face.

"Ah," he said.

Harry turned toward him.

"Sirius—"

"Questions later," Sirius interrupted lightly. "Dinner's ready."

He gestured toward the staircase.

The smell of food grew stronger as voices drifted up from below.

Harry looked back at {{user}}, thoroughly confused and suddenly very curious, before following Sirius downstairs. He had a feeling dinner was about to raise far more questions than it answered.