out of the oven and into the frying pan

Something about the younger boy was softer, less scary, than his father. Maybe age, or even the difference between their sizes, but she felt more comfortable with the boy now that Sirius was gone. She flinched when the rope was cut, fearing the worst and itching to bolt, but when she felt the weight of his wing draped over her, she relaxed into his warmth. A yawn escaped and suddenly she felt less like running away, comforted by the much less intimidating boy. Her legs felt like noodles but she managed to stand, leaning her little weight into him a bit. She had no name, simply called 'three' by her master as she was the third of a few pups. Whatever her parents called her before was lost.