Sirius had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. Of course the fact that hangovers were so much worse as a dog wasn't helping matters at all. From the sounds he could hear though, it sounded like he was in an alleyway of some sort. That was a good sign - if he had passed out in the middle of a road somewhere he would no doubt be attracting all sorts of bad attention. Judging by the nearby conversation, he hadn't completely dodged that bullet though. There were people, maybe a few yards away, arguing in hushed voices. He couldn't hear very well, but it seemed like they were debating whether he was a wolf or a dog. He rolled his eyes. He looked nothing like a wolf. Clearly these people had never left the sheltered streets of London.
A sudden raspy voice next to him made him jump. His eyes snapped open, up to a woman who looked like she could be his mother. Well, in age only. His mother would be mortified to be compared to a woman who was obviously dressed like a muggle.
Sirius eyed her cautiously. She appeared friendly, and he sniffed her hand curiously. Acting like a dog had become second nature to him. She extended a jellybean, and he lapped it up quickly. Anything could be better than a dead bird - at least that's what he thought until the taste turned out to be straw.
Bertie Botts. What was wrong with that man?!
After that revelation came another one.
She was a witch. Or at least she used to be one. Judging be her clothes, Sirius might have guessed her to be one of those poor souls re-labelled as a muggle. The poor lady looked tired and worn out - something Sirius could sympathize with. And even though that Bertie Botts bean had tasted terrible, she seemed friendly so far.
The offer of better food made his ears perk. Even with a hangover, that prospect reminded him that he hadn't eaten in...well...awhile. He slowly lumbered to his feet, fighting against the buckling of his knees. Once he had gotten himself up, he looked up at her with his best sad puppy eyes he could muster and wagged his tail expectantly. He had gotten pretty good at the whole begging puppy thing. Now he could only hope he had gotten pretty good at judging who his enemies where.