Professor Minerva Mcgonagall was giving the Hogwarts attendance letters one last look over. Hogwarts herself did most of the work, but she always preferred to double check. You never know what you might find. Why, just last year Harry Potter had come back, so obviously surprises could happen, and though she could rarely prevent anything, she could always prepare.

Glancing through, she noticed a particularly odd one. One that was addressed to... Just Elizabetha, no last name, and in Azkaban prison, of all places.

Oh well, Minerva thought, pulling it out. Hogwarts probably just got a little confused. Strange, though... She set it to the side. A few minutes later, though, she found another, addressed the same. A quick glance to the side ensured that the previous one was still there, so she hadn't just accidentally mixed it back in. She too this one out as well. Yet just moments later, there was another for this "Elizabetha" waiting to be sent...

Minerva gave up, and simply sent this one out with the other letters. Hogwarts knew best, after all.


Elizabetha sat in front of Nettle's cell, the half pixie inside curled up in a ball close to the bars. In her hands Elizabetha held a plain gold chain, it's gleam only faint from years without care. If she was to believe her dementor mother, it had once belonged to Jem Brinks, her actual mother.

"So, twinkle twinkle little star?" She asked, naming a few of the lullabies she had read about in a children's book an Auror had brought her.

"Light." Nettle replied, before whimpering and curling up tighter. "Or space." Then she craned her neck around, turning it at an angle impossible for a normal human, and looked Elizabetha in the eye. "You're a witch, Elizabetha."

Elizabetha stared at her for a few moments, before smiling gently. "No freaking duh, Nettle." She quipped, and Nettle shook her head at her, despite her odd body angle, another impossible feat that only a pixies strange bodily rules could allow.

"Go to school. Who's Tom?" That was all Elizabetha got out of her before the woman drifted off into fitful sleep, twitching about like she was being shocked. With a sigh Elizabetha heaved herself up and collected the few torn parchments she had brought, wrapping the gold chain tight around her wrist and starting down the steps. She passed Madam Barthahew, who offered her a mysterious lump, which she quite decidedly declined, and Alfred, who, as usual, screamed at her. She really had no idea what his deal was...

A familiar bark made her look up, and she smiled at Sirius as she passed. "Hello, and bye-bye." She told him as she walked past, and he wagged his tail at her before growling at it and sitting down hard, and snapping his jaws about it. Maybe he thought it was a rat, she mused. As she started down more steps his regretful and pained howls echoed after her, loud ghosts of a bad choice.

"Hello, Blue!" She called to a rather smallish dementor in the next corridor, and it rasped greetings to her before bending down to closer observe the twitching body of a young werewolf, easily identifiable by his wide amber eyes and whine of fear. He's new, she observed, pausing to watch as he convulsed again, plagued by no doubt unpleasant memories. She must have missed his arrival while she was talking, or at least trying to talk, with Nettle. I'll introduce myself, she decided. She didn't have to wait long. Blue apparently caught her intentions and shortly left, waving a tattered black sleeve to her before disappearing down the hall, no doubt off to terrify some other poor victim. After a few minutes, the werewolf boy calmed, sitting up with a frightened look on his face. He stared at her, and she grinned at him.

"Wassup kiddo?" She said, and he scrambled backwards on his hands, a frightened expression on his bruised face. The Auror's probably beat him up some... She thought, and walked closer to the bars, making him stop against the back wall of his new cell. He didn't reply, which Elizabetha thought was a bit rude, but she decided to introduce herself anyways.

"Well, if you won't go, then I will. Watashi no namae was Elizabetha de-" She paused seeing the baffled look on his face. Right. In english this time, then. "My name's Elizabetha. How do ya do?" She asked, smiling brightly, and when the boy didn't answer she sighed. "If you don't tell me I'll just make one up. Do you really want me to call you Finatrixiebellianabethaniti? Because I will." That seemed to snap him out of it a bit, and he visibly swallowed before answering in a small voice.

"My name is Jacob Koray..." He said, and Elizabetha smiled.

"Koray... Turkish, are you?" He looked a bit confused, and opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but she shook her head. "Don't ask why I know any Turkish names, it's a long story, plus a really odd one, involving a rat, a bauble, a can of soup, and one of the more insane occupants of this place... Well... welcome to Azkaban prison?" Jacob snorted.

"Thanks, I guess. Are you... are you real?"

"Last I checked." She quipped, and Jacob gaped.

"I thought... I thought only dementors were in Azkaban. Unless, are you a dementor?" She shook her head. "Another prisoner, then? I didn't know we were allowed to wander." Again, she shook her head.

"Wrong again, gospodine. You're not. I am Azkaban's resident lutalica, or wanderer, as it were. I guess you could say I'm it's queen." Oh. Queen. She liked the sound of that. And she liked the way Jacob was looking at her, surprise mixed with wonder and a little bit of fear. "I was born here, you see, and raised here too. Raised to be it's royalty." Yessssss, this was sounding marvelous. She had no idea whether or not it was true, but the words dripping off her tongue felt right enough. And she doubted anyone would mind if she claimed herself the queen of this place. Other prisoners had claimed much stranger. Mika thought he was a porcupine.

"Y-you were raised here?" Jacob asked, no short amount of awe in his voice, and Elizabetha smiled warmly at him.

"Indeed I was. I had a very interesting childhood." She winked, and he smiled. Kind of. It was more like a grimace, and he looked immediately pained afterwords. "...Well, Bai-bai!" She turned to go, making it only a few steps before Jacob called her.

"Wait, El- your highness!" Well, that's a new one, she thought as she turned.

"Hai?" She inquired, and Jacob looked confused.

"Is that... Japanese?" He asked, and she nodded.

"Ah, yes. I've picked up a lot of languages here. Also, although I certainly do not mind being called 'your highness,' you can just call me Lizzy, like Sirius." Jacob swallowed.

"Sirius Black? He's here?" He asked, looking around, and Elizabetha shrugged.

"Not here, exactly, but a few stories up, yeah." He swallowed again.

"Is he dangerous? I heard he blew up and killed a lot of muggles, and that it took twenty Aurors to get him here." Elizabetha scoffed.

"That lovely old nutbag? Dangerous? Listen, he could easily kill a few hundred muggles, and if he didn't want to be caught it would take a lot more then twenty Aurors. It would take the whole force, Dumbledore, a tank of goldfish, and still more. Whomever told you that was obviously either lying, or stupid. I'm pretty sure Sirius was put here wrongly, like Nettle and a few other werewolves like yourself. True, Nettle is incredibly dangerous, and her logic on what's moral and what isn't is quite twisted, but to be fair, she is half pixie, for Merlin's sake. Of course she's going to cause trouble. By the way, why are you here?" Jacob looked down, and shook his head.

"I don't actually know. I think... I think I killed someone, the last full moon. I never remember what happens at full moon." Ahh. Another one. Elizabetha bowed her head to him.

"Oh, sorry. Had you taken Wolfsbane?" The answer was already easy, and when he shook his head she mentally added him to the list. The list of werewolves who couldn't afford the precious potion, and were accused of slaughter like it was their fault they hadn't kept their head when they accidentally killed someone. There were four others in the lower floors, and all but one felt miserable and guilty because of what they had done while out of their minds. One actually felt quite proud, because she realized it wasn't her fault and the person she had killed had always been quite annoying she'd thought, but the others fell for the trick and thought it was their fault someone had died. Lowering the prices on the potion could easily prevent such deaths, thus increasing the workforce, thus further increasing by even a small amount the people capable of brewing Wolfsbane, Elizabetha mused, before turning away from the cell again.

"Well, if that's it, Then fare thee well!"

And she left.

Two more days till Hogwarts.


Oh my goddesses, some people actually liked this! Yayyyyyy!

On a more Sirius note, I'd just like to point out that Wolfsbane potion is extremely difficult to make, meaning it's really expensive, and many werewolves can't afford to make it because they have trouble finding stable jobs. Plus, it has to be taken every day for a week before the full moon, meaning even if you could afford some, unless you could get seven doses of it, you're still screwed. Just food for thought. And yes, this was basically just filler until the net chapter.

Please tell me what you think about my most recent blight upon the world, and byeeeeeee!