I awoke in the morning, feeling a little better, and so slowly, I sat up. It took me a moment to remember what had happened, but I was fairly content once I did and scratched my ear with my foot. It felt oddly natural. I still ached in various places and I was very dizzy, but overall it was an improvement. My vision had cleared up, and I glanced around the room. I was surprised to see someone watching me from a distance.

"Hello," said Harry looking at me curiously. His eyes were still a little bit red and there were deep shadows under them. But he looked like he was - as he said earlier - surviving.

I was so happy to see him that I smiled so hard I sneezed.

"You're kind of funny you know," he muttered, taking another step closer but still a ways away. "The neighbour's dog used to do that. Aunt Petunia hated him, but I liked him."

Eager at the fact that Harry had noticed me I closed my eyes and tried to transform back now that I felt I had the strength. I did precisely what I did earlier to turn into a fox, and then I opened my eyes, suddenly aware of the fact that I hadn't felt a thing. Naturally one only does recall certain unfortunate details when a rather interesting situation presents itself. At this point I recalled that Minerva had mentioned that oftentimes getting back into your human form is very nearly as difficult to achieve as an animagus form. It is a two way street apparently, and so most of the time an instructor ends up having to use an incantation for the pupil to change back. Generally this happens the first few times until they learn how to change back themselves. Angry, I slouched down. Typical, of course; there was always a catch.

"Are you hungry or something?" wondered Harry aloud as he noticed the fact that my lip was curled up and a few of my teeth were sticking out; a decidedly dog-like expression that irritated me further. On the plus side, when I started thinking about my teeth I realized Molly had regrown the one I lost, much to my delight. I loved magic. But at the moment, now that I thought about Harry's question that had been more or less voiced to himself, I was hungry.

"You wait right here, I'll go see if Mrs. Weasley has something for you." I tried to follow him, but not only was I having trouble getting up, but I bumped into some sort of magical barrier when I finally did get to my feet and tried to follow him. I sat down in disgust. No wonder Harry hadn't come closer. He couldn't.

Molly came into the room a little while after, and Harry went up the stairs once more. I would have followed him if it weren't for the fact that Molly held in her hands a plate with some sort of meat on it. Well, that and the barrier. But, the food looked delicious, and I could feel my ears pricking up in interest as I watched her. She lifted the spell and came closer to me.

"Go on then," said Molly with a slight laugh as I lifted my paws up and down in anticipation. She shook her head at the grin that I was wearing as I sniffed the air around the plate. "You're strangely tame for a fox, you know." She set the plate down before me, and I went right to work. I had to admit, even if it wasn't at all what I was used to, I still adored Molly's cooking. Stomach satisfied, I decided to give turning back into myself another go. But I soon abandoned the endeavour in favour of taking a nap, for the food had made me extremely tired and I had not been making any progress whatsoever regardless of the fact that I was trying my best. I would simply have to rethink my technique, and keep trying.

When I awoke I spent the remaining part of the day trying in vain to transform, but was unable to. Molly had decided later in the day that, as I had yet to wreak any havoc in the small area I had been given, she would remove the spells, seeing as they were a nuisance for anyone trying to go out the back door or get to the little laundry room. Of course, all of this probably had something to do with the fact that I really was not fast at getting anywhere. However, I enjoyed the freedom despite the fact that I wasn't doing so well at walking. It took a long time to work up the strength, but when the clink of dishes being washed died down I dared to hobble my way slowly to the kitchen, still stiff, dizzy, and sore. I was a little annoyed that I had been sleeping while everyone had been down for dinner, and therefore did not get a chance to see everyone. I could hear voices as I entered the kitchen, and as most of the others had been upstairs for the day I was rather hoping for some company.

"Come on, Ron has an owl, why can't I get a cat?" Ginny asked impatiently. "Dad said yes."

"Arthur thought you meant a muggle cat," said Molly wearily. "If we were to get a cat I would prefer it to be magical, because they are smarter, and therefore easier to train and we wouldn't have to worry about it straying out of the wards and giving away the location of the house. It's just too dangerous if someone recognizes it to be ours. We can afford the risk about as much as we can afford a magical cat. They are not cheap dear."

Ginny huffed in disappointment and rested her chin on her fist.

"What about an owl?"

"Owls are every bit as expensive, and before you object - Ron got his as gift from Sirius, remember?"

"I wish my dorm mates didn't let all their owls fly in and out of the dorm. Owls would eat a pygmy puff for sure," she said gloomily, and I wondered just what in the hell a pygmy puff was anyway. "Fred and George would have given me one for free if it weren't for that, you know."

Suddenly I started to cough, which came out as a strange hissing wheeze. Molly and Ginny jumped and looked over at me as I hacked. I could taste blood, and my legs got weak so I lay down on my stomach, the kitchen floor cool to my belly, my legs tangled beneath me.

"Ginny, go fetch me some Weasley's Wort from the garden, will you?"

"It works on animals too?" asked Ginny curiously as she got up.

"Well it did on one of Arabella's cats, do hurry," she said as I continued to wheeze.

Ginny came back soon, holding in her snowy mittens a sort of plant that looked rather like winter-green. Molly took it from her and put it into a pot she was heating water in. In a few minutes she poured the liquid - it sort of looked like tea- into a bowl and cast a cooling charm on it. She set it before me, and knowing she knew what she was doing, I drank it. It tasted like a peculiar blend of mint, licorice and something a little sharper. I lapped it all up under Molly's watchful gaze. I really couldn't get used to drinking like that, but the tea was nice. It soothed my raw throat.

"I have never met a more obedient fox," she said, shaking her head in mild amazement for not the first time that day.

"Can we keep him then?" Ginny piped up immediately, looking hopeful.

"Only until he is well enough to be on his own," said Molly firmly. "I wouldn't dare put him outside, what with that chill he had when he came to us. He can barely get around here where its warm."

It hadn't occurred that some of the muscle cramping could have been due to the fact that I had been chained in a cold cellar for so long. There had been minimal heating charms down there, just to keep me from freezing. Thinking of this, I lay down by the bowl, my lungs feeling slightly better. The tightness seemed to have been partially relived, and my head cleared a little as well, which I was glad for. The difference was not profound, but for the moment it seemed to alleviate a little bit of the pain, and I was grateful for it.

"Well Ginny, seeing as you're yearning to look after something you can be in charge of our little friend," Molly began. "Make sure to give him the tea once in the morning and once in the evening, and make sure he gets adequate meals. Would you like that?"

"Oh yes!" Ginny said excitedly, throwing her arms around Molly in gratitude, who looked amused.

"He needs a name then, if he'll be staying for a little while."

"I'm working on it; it'll be the best name ever," she said. "I wonder where Harry went, he's really good at naming things."

Great, I would end up with a name somewhere along the lines of Rexy. What would it be, foxy? Black Paws? Alright, I had to admit that the name Hedwig at least had dignity, so maybe if I was lucky he'd suggest something along those lines.

I returned to the blanket by the back door and slept for a while, and then simply lay with my eyes closed. I would have searched for Harry or Draco, but was unable to get up the stairs for the dizziness and tremors. Though they were improved a little by the obscure ‘Weasley's Wort', they were still present. I could only assume that it was called that because Molly grew it herself. Debate around the name of the plant aside, when I finally did open my eyes I was delighted to see Draco. He quickly strode to the front door, and opened it. Out into the snow he walked, wearing nothing but his socks, jeans and a thin sweater. The cold wind whipped his hair. I was rather alarmed, and wondered what he was doing. Molly looked up from her knitting, noticing that the door was open. Draco's socked feet had been silent, but the wind as not. She put down her needles and went out into the snow, having pulled on a pair of soft slippers and a warm shawl around her shoulders. She held a folded quilt under her arm. I walked unsteadily to the door and out into the snow too, trying to get to him without falling. It took a while, but I reached him, and I sat down in the snow by his feet.

"What are you doing Draco?" asked Molly softly, draping the quilt around his shoulders and pulling it tightly around him.

It took him a second to answer, for he seemed captivated by the snowy hills. "I thought ... I thought I saw him," he muttered. I tugged at his pant leg with my teeth to say I am here, but he did not notice. My heart ached like my paws did in the snow.

"Come back inside dear," Molly whispered to him, tears in her eyes. He stood for a minute or two more, not even shivering, and then he allowed Molly to bring him back in. I trotted beside him.

She led him to the table, and made him a cup of tea, which she placed in front of him before taking a seat opposite him. I sat nearby, and I saw her place a hand on top of his. He trembled for a moment, and then looked down at his lap, shoulders rising and falling shakily, his tea forgotten beside him. She took his hands, and she held them for as long as he sat like that.

It was only when he had calmed down that she said, "I was there once too. I wish I could do something to make it easier, but I cannot. Someday you will be able to think of him without pain; it takes time, but some day you will. It isn't your fault."

Draco examined the wood of the table, tears silently dripping from his nose. "I know," he whispered, putting his hand on his pocket and fingering the creased envelope which was protruding from it.

      I pawed at his leg. He reached down absent-mindedly and scratched my ears, clearly not realizing that I was not only a fox, but his bloody guardian. I scowled, not wanting that but instead wishing for him to realize I wasn't gone. That I hadn't left him.