Archer was completely distracted by the ball of fur and puppy fat in his arms.  It was no secret that Archer Radley liked dogs.  Whenever he saw a krup wandering down the street, even that small dog could give him cause to let his eyes follow it, watching in envy as the owner and dog strolled down the street.  Generally, krups were fiercely loyal to their owners, and judging by the double tail here, this dog was at least part krup – but it was far too friendly.

He vaguely recognized the long, but wide nose and floppy ears as those of a larger breed, Labrador – like some of the inhabitants of Piddlehinton had, and Archer could not help but grin even wider.  The dog was like home, and would grow up to be sturdy and rather large, actually.  Looking at Tamis and then down at the fluff ball, sure, it was small now, but he figured it might even weigh more than her at peak physical condition, perhaps slightly stunted by the krup blood, but otherwise, this was going to be one big dog.  Did Tamis really know what she was doing? 

“Well, you can’t call him Dog,” Archer returned with a good humored grin, something of a grimace coming over his face as the pup used its back legs to propel itself up off his forearms and get a generously wet stroke of tongue right over the corner of his mouth.  They’d have to work on that. 

Rubbing his cheek, Archer shifted the dog in his grasp and raised his eyebrows and laughed easily as the pup gruffly voiced its discontent with being moved by squirming and whimpering – only it was not quite a whimper, just the indignant sound that would be equivalent to a toddler being corrected.  He retaliated similarly and sunk puppy teeth right into Archer’s fingers.  Thankfully, it did not bother Archer much and he just rubbed the dogs head, wrinkling his nose slightly at it.  The pup barked in response, clearly telling Archer he was doing something wrong.  Archer liked this dog.

He was about to comment about it when Tamis suggested that he name him himself.  He got to name him?  But why…?  Archer’s face contorted with confusion until finally… like a beater’s bat to the back of his head, it hit him.  Archer blinked for a moment before an oblivated grin started crawling over his features.  “Are you serious?”  he asked, having to clarify as he looked down at the still wiggling mass, who looked up at him at the same time.  Clearly, this was purposefully designed or the two would not interact so well almost immediately. 

“Tamis, don’t mess with me,” he was as serious as a grinning idiot could be at the moment.  “This is for me, really?” the puppy barked in his arms and squirmed again, it appeared he wanted down.  Archer obliged, following the puppy on the floor – sitting with him, his legs sprawled out and the puppy running between them confusedly before he could figure out he could run in the other direction.  Archer laughed.  “If you’re not joking, he’s as smart as his owner, yeh?” he laughed as the puppy pounced on his foot, biting as his big toe and the rest of his foot - clearly a blue ribbon winner as far as brains went.  Archer was already enamored. 

The smirk on her lips stretched wider and wider with every mounting and rather redundant question. The barest, teeniest, tiniest laugh might have escaped her but that was subjective to interpretation. Truly a correct selection, she decided as the crup mix interacted with Archer. One of her eyebrows still quirked, she shrugged her shoulders, near nonchalant as she said, “rumor has it I am always serious.”

Near enough to the truth.

The smirk transitioned into a smile as Archer settled on the floor with his newfound pet. Tamis slipped her head off her hands and leaned forward to look over the tall man’s shoulder’s, watching the puppy excitedly dart back and forth between his legs before finding an escape route. Eying the canine carefully, the Auror carefully checked for signs of over excitement. He had only had one accident since being in her flat and she was not particularly enthusiastic about the possibility of a second one.

Compressing her lips, Tamis thought silence was best in relating the dog’s intelligence to his owner. Archer had not watched the little creature walk straight into a wall. Not once, but twice. In time, once the newness wore off, she sadly assured herself. It was one of the woes of mixing with a breed known purely for good temperament. But the puppy did show promise; he would just need a helpful hand.

Speaking of which…

Leaning to the side, she pressed her lips close to his ear, as if sharing a secret. “If you keep letting him bite he will think it is okay when he is older.” It was a kindly pointer, but an accurate one. She pecked him on the cheek (notably the one that had not been licked) to take any animosity out of the statement.

Her point seemed to have been made about the standings in their relation, if not exactly in the way she had planned. She might have taken that moment to clarify. Might have casually brought up his mother and his thoughts on the situation. But she could not bring herself to do it and potentially kill the rare moment of happiness. She knew, or rather hoped, that at least on some subconscious level he understood and that was good enough for her right now. Right now, she knew she had lost his attention span.

She offered him one last peck on the cheek and ruffled his hair the way he had the puppy’s moments before for the sheer irony. “You two get acquainted. Let me know when you are inspired with a name.” Standing up, her own thoughts turned toward those of a shower and maybe a good night’s. She had not had one in the last handful of nights. “Work in the a.m.” she reminded him before leaving him alone with his new friend.