"Open is fine," at least that way McGonagall couldn’t sneak up and startle him. He looked around listlessly, watching as Pomfrey ducked behind the curtains of Moody’s cubical and talked lowly too him. Sirius nudged his fingers when he stopped petting him, and a reluctant smile emerged on Harry’s face; he leant down to whisper, "You’re not an actual dog, you know?" Sirius only let out a hushed bark and licked his fingertips.