Third Year

"Sirius Black!" Harry whispers urgently into the mirror. His own reflection stares back at him. "Sirius Black! Why does he never answer the bloody mirror when it's important?" Harry asks the ceiling.

The ceiling doesn't respond, but Sirius does. "I am answering the mirror," his godfather says, sounding amused.

"Sirius! There you are. Finally!" Harry hisses, trying to keep his voice down. He's hiding in the bathroom on the Hogwarts express and since he doesn't know how to cast a silencing charm yet anyone could be outside listening in.

"What's so important that you couldn't tell me twenty minutes ago when I saw you off to school?"

"I found that guy you thought was most likely to be the traitor! Remus bloody Lupin is sitting in a compartment on the train! Hermione even thinks he's going to be the Defence professor this year!" Harry says.

"Whoa, Harry. Calm down, okay?"

"Calm down? Calm down? Sirius, this is the guy you've been looking for since first year! You could clear your name! I could move out of the Dursleys'!"

Sirius pouts, "Sometimes I think you only like me for the chance to get away from your relatives."

"Sirius!"

"Okay, okay." He sobers up. "Are you sure it's him?"

Harry relaxes. "Pretty sure. I mean his trunk says 'R. J. Lupin' and he looks pale and exhausted like it's a full moon tonight, which it is. He's sleeping so it's kind of hard to get a good look at his face and it's been twelve years but it kind of looks like him."

"Well there's no point in making a move until we've scoped out the situation. Sit tight for now, Harry, but be on your guard and don't ever go anywhere alone with him."

Harry nods seriously. "Will do."

McGonagall waits for the returning students – and one green-eyed student in particular – by the Entrance Hall. It's been seven months since Harry Potter disappeared without a trace and not a word has been heard of him since. They hadn't even been able to mount an official search because when Dumbledore had sent her to his relatives' house to look for him, that horrible aunt of his had opened the door and said—

"Oh. It's one of you people. I suppose you're looking for the boy?"

"Yes. Harry—"

"Here," the blonde woman says, shoving a few pieces of paper at her, "These should take care of everything. Don't come back."

And the door had been slammed in her face. Unfortunately, the woman had been correct. Harry Potter had been officially withdrawn from Hogwarts for the year and since they were only a school any more than that was—

"None of your ruddy business," the fat man yells, sending spit flying into her face.

The door had been slammed in her face that time too and any ideas of getting more information from the Dursleys had quickly been quashed. Magical methods – because a few pesky laws about tracking charms weren't enough to deter them from looking out for a student, especially Harry Potter – had been equally fruitless. McGonagall hadn't known whether to be worried or comforted by the fact that the anti-tracking wards placed on him were thorough enough to impress Dumbledore.

The relief that had swept through her when the headmaster had strode into her office shortly before eleven that morning to inform her—

"The anti-tracking wards have been removed from Mr. Potter's person and I have been able to estimate his location to be somewhere within the area of London. Considering the time, I would suspect Platform nine and three-quarters."

— was profound.

So now she waits, anxious again because what if Dumbledore had made a mistake? But no, of course he hadn't. There's the wild head of black hair in the middle of a gaggle of second years coming up now.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall calls, and if her voice is slightly higher than normal, no one says anything.

"Just for you, Professor, it's Harry" the boy says, sending her a grin and a wink. "But don't tell Tully or she'll be jealous."

More like his father every year, McGonagall thinks fondly but she only lets the barest hint of a smile onto her face. "A word in my office if you would, Harry." He nods with a grin and claps his friends on the shoulders goodbye before following her up the marble staircase and down a corridor.

Once in her office, McGonagall motions for Harry to sit and takes her place behind her desk. "You missed a great deal of work last year, Harry," she says. "Professor Flitwick has expressed his belief that you will be able to join his third year class without much difficulty as you were already quite advanced for your age, but for the rest of your subjects you will be given a test to determine what level you are at before deciding how best to proceed."

"Okay. When will I take this test?" Harry asks, not sounding concerned in the least.

"First thing tomorrow morning. That way if you are able to rejoin your year mates you won't have missed anything other than the standard introductory classes."

"Cool. Is that all?"

"There is also the matter of your electives. Provided, of course, that you do not have too much extra work you are able to choose two from this list," she says, pulling a piece of parchment from her desk and sliding it towards him. "Have you given any thought to what you might want to take?"

"Care of Magical Creatures," Harry says immediately. "And... Ancient Runes, maybe?"

"H-Hi Harry," Ginny says nervously, clutching her books to her chest.

"Hey Ginny, what's going on?"

"I... I just wanted to say thank you for saving me last year," Ginny says in a somewhat rehearsed sounding rush. Then she smiles shyly at him and adds, "That was really brave of you."

"Oh," Harry says. He scratches his head, embarrassed. "You don't have to thank me. I had no idea what I was doing. I was frightened out of my mind."

"But you came after me anyway, so thanks."

"Actually, you kidnapped me," Harry says with a grin. "I just woke up in that room with you know, him, and then he called out the snake when I didn't want to chat and Fawkes and the Sorting Hat joined the party and... yeah. It sort of all just happened before I could even blink."

Ginny looks mortified, "I kidnapped you?"

"Well, not you. He did." She doesn't look convinced. "Really," Harry says firmly, starting to regret that he shared that titbit. "It had nothing to do with you so don't worry about it."

"I kidnapped you?"

"You were possessed. By Voldemort. You know that nothing he did using your body was your fault, right?"

"But I wrote in the diary," Ginny says tearfully in a small voice. "Dad always said not to trust something that could think for itself if I couldn't see where its brain was."

Faced with tears, Harry's first instinct is to flee but in this case he feels responsible for her. So he steels himself and says with cheery candour, "Probably good advice, but the wizarding world is full of things like that! Just look at the Sorting Hat! And the bazillion portraits around the place! You made a mistake, sure, but you were tricked. And this is Voldemort we're talking about. Do you really think you could avoid a trap set by him?"

Ginny smiles. It's small and tremulous and doubtful, but it's still a smile.

"Exactly. I've got to get to my exam now but I'll see you 'round, yeah?"

"Yeah," Ginny says breathlessly, smiling for real now.

"Take care of yourself, Ginny," Harry says over his shoulder as he heads off. "And go talk to your brothers. They're worried about you."

"Well?" Hermione demands.

"Hey Hermione. How are you? Me? I'm good too. Nice tan you have by the way – did you go on vacation?"

The bushy-haired girl sniffs. "Oh you want to talk now do you?" she says. "I didn't think that was your thing after you disappeared without a word and didn't send a single owl in seven months. And every time I tried to send a letter to see if you were even alive, the owl would hop around in circles like it was confounded before refusing to deliver! I thought you were dead!"

"Hermione," Harry pleads.

"I don't want to hear it," she says sharply. "Not unless you're finally going to explain."

"I told you; I can't-"

"Then I don't want to hear it. The exam?"

Harry sighs. He guiltily misses the days when she was so desperate for friends that she'd never question him even when he was clearly researching – with her help – legally dubious topics. Sure, she was annoyingly eager to please but now she's bossy and self-righteous now and she'd rather compete with him in academics than help with his projects.

"I aced Transfiguration and Defence," Harry says, a faintly smug grin beginning to show. "McGonagall said I easily could've skipped a year in both and maybe even two. I'm not though. Potions was average – I'm having remedial lessons with Snape twice a week. Astronomy, History and Herbology I just have a certain amount of work to catch up on by the end of the year – I'll have to take both second and third year exams which won't be fun but it's manageable."

"Electives?"

"Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes."

"Well we haven't done anything yet except in Potions. You can talk to Professor Snape about what you missed in your remedial lessons." And with that she flounces off.

"Hagrid?" Harry calls, knocking and then opening the door without waiting for an answer.

"Hello there Harry," Hagrid says, a wide smile breaking out over his face. "Come in, come in. How've yeh been?"

"Great," Harry says automatically. He pauses, looking uncomfortable and then blurts out, "Sorry we had to take Norbert away. I never got a chance to say it when we were here since things were a bit tense at the time." Without meeting the half-giant's eyes he adds, "I know how much she meant to you."

Hagrid claps him on the shoulder, making him stagger with the force of it. "That's alright, Harry. It had to be done an' there's no one I'd trust more than you to make sure she went to a good place."

"Yeah. Thanks," Harry says. "Uh, I brought you some pictures of her and Sven promised to send more as she grows. I know it's not nearly the same but..."

"Thanks, Harry," Hagrid says as he takes the offered photos. To Harry's alarm he starts to look rather teary as he leafs through them. "Yeh really are a good lad-"

"Say, Hagrid," Harry interrupts quickly, "What were those creatures you've got outside? I don't think I've ever seen anything like them."

"Oh, the Hippogriffs, yeh mean? Beau'iful, aren't they? Got 'em in for yer firs' lesson," he says proudly. "If yeh wan' I can introduce yeh to them now."

"Yes please!" Harry says eagerly.

"Just spit it out, Nev," Harry advises, taking a break from the mature Mandrakes Neville is teaching him how to harvest.

Neville gives him a confused look and carefully checks that all the Mandrakes they are working with are all potted before taking his earmuffs off. "What?"

"You've been sneaking glances at me all afternoon. Now either you fancy me or you have something to say," Harry says, borrowing a phrase Sirius takes far too much delight in using on him.

Neville splutters. "I don't fancy boys!"

"So what do you want to say?"

"It's just..." Neville bites his lip and hunches his shoulders self-consciously. "Are you okay?"

Harry blinks. "Uh, yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I was thinking."

Harry bites back a dozen retorts that he's sure will only make Neville retreat into his shell.

"Last year," Neville continues, "You wouldn't have just left for any reason, right? Especially without taking any of your stuff or even telling anyone. And the Chamber was closed at the exact same time you disappeared so I thought something probably happened and you were involved with it, or something... It was a stupid thought," he says quickly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"No, you're right," Harry says without looking at Neville. "Spot on actually. Voldemort possessed... someone—"

"Ginny," Neville breathes.

"You can't tell anyone," Harry says sharply. "Swear it."

"I swear," Neville says. "You can tell me anything, Harry. I can keep a secret."

Neville's chubby face is set and Harry knows he is one of the boy's only friends anyway. "Right. Well anyway, Voldemort kidnapped me and took me to the Chamber of Secrets and tried to kill me. You know that snake I saw? It was his – a basilisk – and he set it on me but Fawkes came and we managed to beat the snake and destroy the thing he was using to possess Ginny. It was only pure dumb luck that I got out alive and with Ginny to boot. I... I freaked out and ran away. Sirius snuck me out of England and made sure no one could find us so I could have a break and get it back together."

Neville looks awkward like he desperately wants to say something but doesn't know what. Harry doesn't know what to say either; he's never been one for spilling his guts.

"I'm fine now though," Harry says, ruffling his hair uncomfortably. "Travelling with Sirius was probably the most fun I've had in my entire life," he adds with much more enthusiasm.

"Where'd you go?" Neville asks timidly.

"Everywhere," Harry says. "France, Italy, Greece, Egypt, Iceland, Luxembourg..."

"You want to duel me?" Cedric repeats, somewhat bemused. "You've barely started third year. Do you even know any spells that can be used in a duel?"

"Why don't we fight and find out?" Harry says challengingly.

Cedric throws him an amused look that clearly says, 'nice try. I don't think so.'

"Aw, come on," Harry begs, "I was tutored by a professional dueller while I was away. Please? Just like once a week for an hour or something to keep in practise. You can skip out whenever you've got too much work to do. Professor McGonagall offered to let me join fifth year Transfiguration this year so I could probably even do some of your homework for you."

"The point of homework is to make sure we master what we've learnt in class, so you doing it for me doesn't really help, not to mention Transfiguration is my best subject. Are you really that good at it though?"

"Hufflepuffs," Harry sighs in exasperation. "You would say that. Anyway, Transfiguration is my best subject, along with defence. I've just started human transfiguration. I'm not very good at it yet though."

Cedric whistles. "That's amazing. Alright. I'll give it a go but if you're not as good as you claim it won't be a regular thing. I just don't have enough time between O.W.L.s, Quidditch and prefect duties for tutoring."

"No stress, 'Puff-man," Harry says with an impish grin, "I'll be the one tutoring you so you're good enough to be any fun sparring with."

"Gryffindors. You would say that," Cedric says with a wry smile. "Fine. How's Saturday at eleven? We can use one of the spare Defence classrooms on the second floor."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you there 'Puff-man."

"Great. Later then 'Dor-man."

Harry gapes at his retreating back. "Doorman? Was I just insulted by a Hufflepuff?"

"Please, take a seat," Dumbledore says.

Harry accepts, sinking into the comfortable chair without stopping his open-mouthed perusal of the Headmasters office. He can't help it; it's just too interesting. Dumbledore clears his throat gently and Harry whips around to look at the old man, sudden realisation of his rudeness colouring his cheeks. "Ah, sorry sir."

"That's quite alright." Dumbledore says genially, "Now, if you are finished...?"

"Yes, sir," Harry says abashedly.

"Excellent." Dumbledore steeples his fingers and peers at him over half moon glasses. How are you settling in this year, Harry?"

"Great, sir."

"You're not having any trouble keeping up in your classes, are you?"

"No, sir."

"Good, good. I expected nothing less from you, of course. All of your teachers have only good things to say about you." He smiles kindly and continues; "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions about what happened at the end of January earlier this year."

"Alright," Harry says a bit nervously.

"Only if you're comfortable with it, Harry."

"It's fine, sir."

"Very well. But please let me know if you want to stop and we will do so immediately. Now, would you like some tea perhaps?"

"Can we just get to it, professor?" Harry says and then hurriedly adds, "No offence, sir, I'd just rather get in over and done with."

"Of course, Harry. No offence taken. Could you describe what happened, from the very beginning then?"

Harry starts explaining. He tells Dumbledore how Ginny led him to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and told the ghost not to say anything before stunning him; how he woke up beside an unconscious Ginny in a hall he'd never seen before with no windows and a giant stone head at one end; how there was a boy there – more solid than a ghost, but still transparent – who asked him how he survived Voldemort and why the dark lord was targeting his family in the first place; how he told the boy he didn't know and the boy said he was Voldemort so he'd better answer and when Harry still didn't answer—

("CRUCIO!" and painpainpainpain and Harry doesn't even realise he is screaming until he stops and he is shaking in relief or from the after effects of the curse and Voldemort, who looks deceptively harmless as a sixteen year old schoolboy, is watching him calculatingly as Harry begs for mercy and insists he knows nothing)

("He did WHAT?" Sirius snarls, the expression on his face absolutely terrifying)

(The Healer storms into the room and grabs Sirius by the collar of his robes and slams him up against the wall and demands, "Why do I need to check a twelve year old for harm from exposure to the worst pain curse known to wizards?")

"He made sure I was telling the truth," Harry says, his eye fixed on Fawkes who has fluttered over to perch on his knee and is cooing softly as Harry strokes his feathers. "And since I was he called out his snake – a basilisk, he said – and told it to kill me. Then Fawkes flew in and gouged out its eyes and gave me the Sorting Hat which gave me a sword which I somehow killed the basilisk with, only it got my arm at the same time and it's really poisonous so I was dying but Fawkes saved me and gave me the diary which Voldemort had said he used to possess Ginny and I stabbed it with the fang that had been in my arm and he died and Ginny woke up."

Dumbledore has questions about everything but luckily he seems to sense when Harry doesn't want to answer and doesn't push too hard. When he is finally done clarifying every detail he asks the question Harry has been dreading the most.

"And after you left Professor McGonagall's office, where did you go?"

"Er, I just ran, I wasn't really paying attention to where I went," Harry says, shifting uncomfortably. "Alright, so I might have gone into the Forbidden Forest for a bit but I swear it was an accident..."

"Harry," Dumbledore says seriously, "Where were you for the past seven months?"

"Look, sir," Harry says earnestly, "I'm really sorry I left without telling anyone. I didn't mean to cause any trouble and I got Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to fill in all the paperwork as soon as I could..."

"Ah, you misunderstand me. I am not concerned about the trouble you may have caused but rather for you yourself, my dear boy. I know you were not with your aunt and uncle nor any of your friends from Hogwarts and you are too young to be living on your own."

"Don't worry; I wasn't alone," Harry says. "You can even ask Mr. Flamel – you guys go way back, right? He said he was going to let you know I was fine but he might have forgotten– he's pretty old."

Dumbledore sighs, "No, he did speak to me. He wouldn't say much however, on your request, I believe, and it is this insistence of secrecy that concerns me – why is it you feel you cannot tell an old man to lay his conscience to rest?"

"Er," Harry says. "Uh, it's... um..."

"If you do not wish to tell me, Harry, you are under no obligation to do so. I do wish you would trust me though."

"It was weed," Dean says. "I know that smell. I'd swear it on my mother's life; it was weed."

"I know she's batty but she's still a teacher," Ron argues, "And d'you really think Dumbledore would stand for her getting students high?"

"Maybe she's bribing him to look the other way. You know, giving him free 'samples' – he certainly acts like he's baked more often than not," Seamus suggests.

Harry flops down in an armchair across from them. "Just come back from Divination?"

"Yep. It was Lavender's turn to have something horrible to happen to her. I must not've been doing my homework properly 'cause she was the last one I was expecting," Seamus says with a grin, "Usually she targets one of us three – probably wishful thinking – while Parvati and Lav are safe."

Harry laughs. "God-"

"Merlin," Ron corrects automatically.

"Merlin I'm glad I didn't take that class."

"What, so you can do mountains of homework for Ancient Runes instead? I'll take the old bat any day," Ron says.

"Especially if we get to smoke weed," Dean says.

"Which we don't because it's not weed," Ron insists.

"I switched to Arithmancy actually," Harry says. "You know what though, we should raid her stash – if it's not weed she'll tell Dumbledore and if it really is weed she'll freak out and try and find it without letting him know."

"That's... that's brilliant and absolutely mad," Ron says.

"I'm in," Dean says.

"I feel weird being the voice of reason," Seamus says, "But we're talking about stealing from a teacher—"

"Which is why you really should have put up some sort of privacy spell," Fred says, popping up from nowhere.

"I thought we taught you better than this," George chides Harry.

"Now which teacher are we talking about?"

"And what are we stealing?"

Seamus groans and sinks lower into the couch. "If we get caught I'm blaming all of you."

"And we'll cheerfully point our fingers right back," George says.

"Friends don't let friends miss out on their suffering," Fred agrees.

"We're not friends with you!" Seamus protests, "Point your fingers at Harry!"

"I don't think that's how it works anyway," Dean says, "You'd have to ask a Hufflepuff but don't you protect your friends from suffering?"

"Why did you have to ask Lavender out?" Hermione groans.

"Hermione?" Harry says tentatively. It's the first time she's addressed him about something other than school work since they've been back but he gets the feeling this isn't her forgiving him.

"You heard me," she grouses. "Why Lavender?"

Honestly, he hadn't meant to. He'd just been flirting with her a bit when he'd said that not going to Hogsmeade wouldn't be so bad if she stayed back with him but then she'd asked him if he was asking her out and he couldn't say no. Besides, Harry likes the way she's so bold and self-assured that even though her looks are completely ordinary she stands out anyway.

"Er... What have you got against Lavender?" Harry says, pulling himself out of his thoughts.

"Apart from the fact that she's an airhead who loves to gossip? Nothing," Hermione says. "But Professor Trelawney told her at the start of the year that the thing she was hoping for would happen on the 26th of October and then you had to go ask her out!"

"Aren't you overreacting a bit?" Harry says. Hermione isn't the most socially aware person but she's never been rude.

"No!" Hermione snaps.

"Okay, okay," Harry says, holding up his hands in surrender. She's been strangely uptight the entire year and he has to wonder if it has anything to do with the rumours of her attending two or three classes at the same time but every time he's tried to enquire she's only gotten more aggravated.

Halloween morning sees Harry leaving the Kitchens with a picnic basket full of food and the latest castle gossip, courtesy of Tully, which he can use to tease Lavender because she is never able to understand how he knows thing even she cannot find out. He goes up the steps from the Great Hall and turns off at the second floor, intending to take a shortcut up to the fifth floor when he hears a voice from behind him say, "Harry?"

He turns around only to see Professor Lupin looking out of his office door, and belatedly realises that the castle is deserted, the majority of its occupants having gone to Hogsmeade. It's just him and the man who may or may not have betrayed his parents to Lord Voldemort.

"What are you doing?" Lupin asks. "Where are all your friends?"

"Most everyone's gone to Hogsmeade but I'm meeting Lavender in the Common Room," Harry says, fidgeting nervously. "I'm late, actually."

"Ah," Lupin says. "Well if you've got time later you should stop by my office; I've just taken a delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson."

"Sure," Harry says, not wanting to upset the man by refusing outright, "I'll try to make some time. I should go now, though. Lavender'll probably come looking for me if I don't turn up soon."

"Of course," Lupin says, smiling genially. Harry is disturbed by how friendly and harmless it makes him look.

"See you professor," Harry says as he backs away, unwilling to turn his back on the man.

"And Harry," Lupin says just before the boy reaches the corner. Harry pauses, ready to run. "If you ever want to come by to talk, about your parents I mean – I told you I went to school with them – you're more than welcome."

"Yeah," Harry says, swallowing. "Thanks for the offer."

"Professor Trelawney?" Harry says even though he's certain he has the right person because surely no one else in the castle dresses quite like this. And there he'd been thinking his friends had been exaggerating.

"Ah, Harry Potter," the woman says, pushing her glasses up with a spindly finger. Harry wonders why she bothers since they are so large she could easily see through them even if they were sitting at the very end of her nose. "My Inner Eye informed me to expect a visit from you."

"Excellent," Harry says. "You must know why I'm here then. Shall we go?" A soft noise comes from the corner that could easily be one of the portraits shifting but sounds an awful lot like a snigger.

"Would you mind – ahem, clarifying your request?" Trelawney says, "The Inner Eye isn't used for such mundane details, you see."

"Oh, of course, I should have realised," Harry says. He's sure he hears a snigger from the corner this time but ignores it in favour of continuing, "Well I'm trying to discover my spirit animal, so I brewed Animadverteserum but since Divination is such a difficult subject I was wondering if you could help me with it."

Trelawney has noticeably brightened. "It is always a pleasure to guide a young disciple in the ways of the Seer," she says.

"It's down in the Dungeons," Harry adds helpfully.

"Come along," Trelawney says, sweeping out of the room, "Your answers await."

"Right," Harry says, trotting after her.

"Animadverteserum has an extraordinarily large range of use," Trelawney lectures as they go down the stairs of the North Tower, "So in order to focus its effects, you must use a number of other divining tools. Since you are attempting to discover something about yourself a large number of mirrors would be useful."

"Don't worry," Harry says, thinking of the mirrors he has raided from unused classrooms all over the castle, "I got heaps."

Trelawney nods. "You will also need to draw a number of symbols around the room to guide your eye to the spiritual realm as the untrained eye will naturally gravitate towards physical answers," she says sounding less mystical and more practical with every word. "I myself haven't needed to use such props in years. Besides, I specialise in interpreting the future; it's been a long time since I did something like this... perhaps it would be best to return to my room so I can pick up a few reference books..."

"No!" Harry says quickly, "That, uh, won't be necessary. I've got a whole stack of books down in the Dungeons. There's probably one there with the right symbols."

"You should also have a number of items representing different animals to guide you as you begin; feathers, scales, bone, fur, fangs and the like, something for all the major groups of animals."

"Got that too," Harry says. They're mostly potions ingredients and things he's picked up from the Forbidden Forest, a few he has yet to identify, but they should work.

Setting up takes a while, especially since Trelawney insists on relocating to a sunny, hexagonal room that Harry has never seen before, but finally everything is prepared. With a flick of his wand Harry lights a fire beneath the clay vessel containing the potion which quickly begins to spill heavy smoke into the room. He starts chanting carefully memorised sounds.

Before long the room is filled with billowing smoke and the sunlight that filters through creates shapes that Harry cannot understand though he is certain they mean something. He can feel his thoughts draining from his mind like water through a sieve and soon the only thing left in his head is the chant, which is flowing far more easily than it ever did when he practised.

"Sirius Black," Harry says into the mirror, not really expecting a reply. His godfather has been out of touch for most of the past month and even when Harry can contact him he is obviously distracted and his appearance speaks of too much stress and too little sleep.

"Harry!" Sirius says and the boy sits up, a grin taking over his face. "How are you, mate?"

"Great! What about you? You look like shite. I thought I told you to get some more sleep."

Sirius winces. "About that... you remember what I told you I've been doing?"

"I would have if you'd told me. Which you didn't," Harry says bluntly, his smile dropping away. Over the summer he got used to Sirius telling him everything no matter who it pissed off and he's not appreciating the man's recent reticence.

"Well I've been getting in touch with old... acquaintances, I suppose you could say. The sort of people who work from Knockturn Alley and don't advertise their services. I caught wind of a few strange rumours when we came back that were significant enough I stayed to chase them up—"

"Hey! You told me you were out of the country!" Harry scowls.

"I didn't want to worry you," Sirius says, brushing off his concern with a shrug. "But that doesn't matter now. Look, I'm going to be completely honest, Harry. Things aren't looking good. I'm about ninety percent sure England's got a new dark lord on the rise. He might fizzle out before the general public even hears of him or he might turn out to be worse than You-Know-Who; it's impossible to say. In either case, I want you to be careful, okay? Dark Lords like to announce their presence with the most attention-grabbing stunts they can think of – this could mean killing the defeater of the last dark lord, or attacking innocent school children or destroying the largest wizarding town in the country."

"I'm not allowed to leave Hogwarts," Harry says, only a bit bitterly, "I doubt any wannabe dark lord is going to get to me here."

Sirius snorts, "And since you're not allowed into the Forbidden Forest, you've never been there. Just promise me you'll be careful."

"Alright, fine, I promise," Harry grumbles, even though he's fighting down a smile. Sirius knows by now that his definition of 'careful' isn't quite the same as the one found in the dictionary.

Sirius loses a bit of the tension in the corners of his eyes and Harry second guesses whether Sirius is aware of what Harry's idea of being careful is, but decides not to clarify. "Thanks Harry."

"You're getting crows eyes," Harry informs him crossly.

Sirius laughs. "How'd your date go?"

"As if I'm going to talk to you about that," Harry says. "I know you don't act anything like a parent but you're still the closest I've ever had."

His godfather laughs again but there's an undecipherable emotion in his eyes and Harry remembers his parents are a touchy to the man. "Well can you tell me how your forays into divination are going, at least?" Sirius asks.

"Oh yeah," Harry says, perking up. "I got it first go – I'm a raven." He scrunches up his nose, "Then Professor Trelawney gave me an hour's lecture on how ravens are associated with death and my future is tainted by death and blah, blah, blah... Seriously, she just wouldn't shut up about it."

"Your first try and you already got it? That's really good. It took me about twelve times before I got a clear enough picture to start the actual transfiguration work. Why does your professor know about it though? You do remember becoming an animagus without registering is illegal, don't you?" Sirius says sardonically.

Harry rolls his eyes. "She's the divination professor; she was helping me. But she doesn't know why I was doing it so stop worrying – I had to distract her and figured I'd kill two birds with one stone."

"Why were you distracting her?" Sirius says, looking interested.

"You're such a sucker for breaking rules," Harry says, "I swear that's half the reason you never tried to clear your name – speaking of, aren't you going to do something about Lupin? He keeps trying to invite me for tea and it's really creepy."

Sirius looks uncomfortable. "Yeah," he says unconvincingly, "I've been run off my feet lately but as soon as I get a chance."

"Right," Harry says flatly.

There's an uncomfortable silence and then Sirius says, "So how's Quidditch going?"

"Potter."

Harry wracks his brain trying to remember the blond Slytherin's name and comes up blank. "What's up?" he asks.

"Mother and Father have asked me to extend an invitation to our Solstice party to you." The boy drops an envelope bearing his name in elegant calligraphy on the desk in front of him. Harry snatches it up before the potions ingredients he is packing up can get on the high quality parchment. "I hope you can make it," he says stiffly and quickly walks back to his own desk.

"You shouldn't go," Theo says, without looking up from scrubbing down his cauldron.

"Why not?" Harry asks.

"You aren't worthy of such an invitation," he says coldly, which is unusual – Theo is never particularly friendly but he is never unfriendly either. "Do you have any idea how many people would happily sacrifice their firstborn for such an honour? It is the most important event of the year – careers and fortunes are made and lost according to what goes on there and you probably haven't even heard of it before."

Harry doesn't know what to say. He doesn't think he's ever heard Theo say so much at once and all the Slytherins are surreptitiously watching them and the blond boy who is just about finished packing up.

"Are you questioning my parents' decision?" the boy demands as he picks up his bag and gestures to two other Slytherin boys who look like the missing link between humans and apes. They quickly get up and flank him on either side.

"Do you think it's right for him to be there?" Theo shoots back.

The boy pauses long enough to prove Theo's point and then says, "I know better than to question things I'm not informed enough make a judgement on. As should you." Then he turns and leaves the classroom.

"Alas, good sir!" Sir Cadogan says, "Those wily dogs managed to see through my masterful disguise and booted me out of their portraits most unceremoniously!"

"Formidable defences, indeed!" Harry cries. "But that is as we expected. Infiltrating the Potions Master's rooms is not a task for the faint of heart and you've proved yourself worthy of commendation for simply attempting it. However I fear that in order to succeed, a new approach is needed."

"You speak truly, my friend!" the painted knight proclaims, sending a nervous glance in the direction from which he came. "It has been an honour aiding you in your quest and I wish you the best of luck!"

"Thank you, brave knight!" Harry says, "I shall not forget the valiant services you rendered."

"Farewell, my comrade-in-arms! If you ever have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon me once again!" And with that he races off.

"Snape must keep pictures of some really vicious brutes to scare Sir Cadogan like that," Harry says to himself. Then he grimaces. "I've got to stop spending time with him if it affects my speech like this."

"Harry? There you are!"

Harry spins around. "Lavender!"

"What are you doing down here? The Hogwarts Express leaves in twenty minutes, you know."

"Just a couple things to take care of before winter break," Harry says vaguely. "How'd you find me, anyway?"

"The twins," Lavender says, waving it away with a dismissive hand. "Anyway, you'll never believe what I just found out!"

"What's that?"

"You know how Dumbledore keeps leaving all the time? I know what he's been doing!"

"What's he been doing?" Harry asks good-humouredly.

"You'll never guess," Lavender says, her eyes sparkling.

Harry is intrigued; it's much more Parvati's style to play around, usually Lavender gets straight to the point. "Enlighten me."

"He's been meeting with Beauxbatons and Durmstrang and their respective ministries – you know how they've been talking about starting up the Triwizard Tournament, right? Well they're thinking of holding it next year!"

"Really?" Harry says excitedly, "How likely is it to actually happen?"

"They've sorted out everything except for one thing," Lavender says. "Dumbledore wants to put an age limit on the contestant – seventeen – can you believe it? Only seventh year and half of sixth would be able to enter! Granted, they're the most likely to be chosen, but still! Anyway, no one else agrees with that, not even our ministry. They're all saying that whoever the cup chooses will be the most competent so there's no point in messing with tradition."

"The cup?" Harry asks.

"I'll tell you on the train," Lavender says, "But we'd better go now unless you want to be stuck at school for Christmas."

Fifteen minutes into the Malfoys' party Harry finds himself discussing how wizarding England's justice system compares with its European counterparts with a morbidly obese wizard sporting an impressive walrus moustache. It's both educational and far more interesting than what he expected to experience when he came. Then he sees two bulbous eyes watching him from a bush at the edge of the patio and Harry thinks he really is in for a memorable night. The bush shakes as a thin arm extends and vigorously beckons him over.

"Look, it's been really interesting talking to you Mr Slughorn," Harry says, "But I just saw someone I really can't delay talking to."

The man looks over in the direction of Harry's attention and only sees Sophie Roper and Pansy Parkinson sneaking a glass of wine in the shadow between the manor and an elm tree.

"A girl, eh! Well good luck m' boy!" he said.

"Thanks," Harry says, "I'd love to continue our discussion later though, if it's not too much trouble. I really learned a lot."

"Of course, m' boy! Of course!"

Harry nods to him and makes his way through the wizards and witches crowding the patio.

"Harry Potter!" a short man in a lime-green bowler hat says excitedly as Harry tries to step around him.

"Er, excuse me," Harry says distractedly. It is only after he has ducked behind the bush where Dobby is waiting that he realises he just brushed off Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself.

"Harry Potter must be leaving right now," Dobby says anxiously, twisting his ears. "Harry Potter must not be here, oh no, sir-"

"Dobby?" Harry interrupts, knowing from experience that Dobby has a tendency to ramble, "What are you doing here? Are you the Malfoys' house-elf?"

"Yes, sir-"

"Why shouldn't I be here?" Harry says.

"There is a plot, sir, a most terrible plot," Dobby says. "A plot to—" he cuts himself off and starts banging his head against the wall.

Harry is getting extreme feelings of déjà vu. "Hey Dobby, do you remember the last time we spoke how I made a rule that if you can't say something, you just tell me you can't answer?"

Dobby nods, looking up at Harry with huge, watery eyes.

"Well I need you to tell me everything you can about this plot, okay? But if you're not allowed to say – don't try to say it; give me hints or tell me if I guess right."

Harry and Dobby are sitting on the curb outside number 4 Privet Drive, the latter under an illusion to give him the appearance of a backpack, when Sirius turns up.

"Hey Harry," Sirius says, "Done already? That was quick."

"Yeah," Harry says weakly.

"So how were the Dursleys?" Sirius asks. He sniffs as though just the thought of them is personally offending which almost makes Harry smile – Aunt Petunia acts the exact same way towards him. "I know it's Christmas and all but I still can't believe you actually wanted to visit them."

"About that..."

Sirius reaches for the backpack. "What's in here? Did—"

"Um," Harry says, as the illusion disappears when Sirius comes in contact with it, "Dobby, you'd better redo that. Sirius, meet Dobby. He's, uh, my new house-elf."

"Is there something you'd like to tell me Harry?" Sirius says slowly.

Harry winces. "I went to the Malfoy's Solstice party."

"I take it Dobby was the Malfoys' house-elf then?" Sirius says in a deceptively easy voice. "House-elves aren't exactly common; they're quite the sign of prestige, actually, and despite the way they treat them it would take quite a transgression for a family to dismiss their elf. For a family like the Malfoys, though, such a thing is unheard of as they would simply kill the elf in order to ensure their secrets do not fall into another's hands."

"Mr Malfoy was going to kill me and make it look like an accident but Dobby warned me and I blackmailed him into giving me Dobby," Harry says, not meeting Sirius' eyes.

Sirius digests this. "What I don't understand," he says, "Is why you would even go the Malfoys' in the first place. Didn't I warn you to be careful? I would think that includes not going to gatherings of ex-Death Eaters and their lackeys." Harry's head droops even lower and Sirius sighs. "This isn't a conversation we should be having here. Let's go home."

"Harry," Lavender says.

Harry looks up and Ron promptly snatches the last piece of treacle tart from in front of him. "Hm?"

"Why have all those Slytherins been sending you dirty looks since you came back from Christmas break?"

Harry turns around. Draco Malfoy is glaring holes in his back. He's not the only one either. "Eh, that's just the way their faces look."

Lavender gives him a look.

"They're jealous of my natural superiority?"

"Ha! You're not even superior to a flubberworm," Lavender huffs.

"But I'm still leagues better than a Slytherin," Harry says.

Dean, Seamus and Ron laugh. Lavender pointedly turns her back to him and beings to whisper with Parvati.

"Ooh, trouble in paradise," Seamus says.

"Why are the Slytherins looking at you like that?" Dean asks.

"Like what?" Harry says.

"Like they wish you were dead," Ron says.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Harry points out.

"The other times were all after Quidditch games," Seamus says. "And this time it's only a few of them."

Dean squints at them, "I can't see any connection between them either. Seriously, what's with that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry says blithely.

Hogwarts' paintings have varying levels of intelligence. There are some, like the Fat Lady and Sir Cadogan, who are fully sentient while others are more like the Drunk Monks in the Charms corridor who only drink and laugh and sleep, completely unaware of the outside world and unable to communicate even with each other beyond the general sharing of merriness. As such, it takes Harry over an hour of searching to find a painted snake sentient enough to converse with.

"Watch the man who inhabits those territories," Harry whispers to the snake which used to slither around a skull held by a famous Austrian playwright from the seventeenth century. "Memorise the sounds he makes to changes the wall into a door," he instructs, hoping that it understands enough of human concepts from living in a castle to follow his orders.

The snake flicks its tongue at him and says, "I go."

"Oh, and when you see me there don't acknowledge me, okay? That's really important."

The snake slithers off and Harry wonders if the feeling of doom he's getting is a premonition or just the normal reaction he has to everything related to the Potions Master. It was risky enough sending Sir Cadogan to spy on Snape – the knight is the opposite of subtle, but on the other hand he is almost ridiculously loyal and would have never willing given Harry away. With the painted knight's limited intelligence Snape probably could have gotten everything out of him simply by talking circles around him though so perhaps it was better that Sir Cadogan was evicted before any trouble could be started.

It was a desperate move and a foolish one, Harry realises with the benefits of hindsight, but he hadn't thought he had any other options at the time. Not many portraits would help a student try to find a way into a teacher's private stores, especially not the Potions Master's since so many dangerous potions are kept there.

Luckily the snake doesn't have the intelligence to make such distinctions. In fact, Harry is rather unsure of whether it has the intelligence to even comprehend the orders he gave it. At least, as the only parcelmouth in Hogwarts, the snake will not be able to rat him out.

"Twins," Harry says. "I need you to swear on your honour as troublemakers that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

"We solemnly swear," Fred says.

"That no one'll learn your secret from us," George finishes.

"Thanks." Harry takes a deep breath. He's taking quite a risk even if he can't imagine the twins ratting him out. "Okay. Sirius Black – my godfather, you know – is innocent."

The twins' jaws drop in unison and for a moment they can only gape. Then they exchange a glance and their faces change to inscrutable.

"You're sure?" George asks seriously.

"Absolutely sure?" Fred says.

"There's no way this is some sort of trick to get close to you-"

"So he can off you and finish what he started?"

Harry rubs the back of his neck. "Well he saved my life the first time we met and I spent seven months with him over the summer so, yeah, I reckon he's not out to kill me."

They nod. "So why are you telling us?"

"There must be a reason you're spilling the beans now."

"Sirius was framed. He doesn't know who by but Lupin is the most likely candidate."

"It's always the Defence professor," Fred says wisely.

"Always," George agrees, clicking his tongue and shaking his head.

"Well Sirius is getting performance anxiety," Harry says, recalling a phrase the twins used in regards to Wood's tendency to fret and lecture before an important game. "And since I'm in trouble with him at the moment I can't pressure him into doing something about it anymore. So I want to interrogate Lupin and find out once and for all if he's guilty."

"What's the plan?" Fred asks, sniggering a bit.

"I assume you've got an idea, at least," George says, fighting a smile.

Harry looks at them suspiciously. "Right, well you've got to keep quiet about this too but Lupin's a werewolf—"

"What?" the twins say, identical thunderstruck looks on their faces.

"Yeah. So he'll be off around the full moon. It'll be easiest to get him right after, I reckon. I've just about got the stunning spell down so we either get him from behind with that or else use a potion – shouldn't be too hard since he's invited me to his office for tea at any time."

The twins' jaws drop. "A paedophile, Death Eater werewolf?"

"This guy is a nasty piece of work."

"I'm not sure he's a paedophile," Harry says uncomfortably, "He knew my parents – offered to tell me about them."

"Let's go with the stunning spell," George says.

"We don't want to risk him getting you before we knock him out," Fred agrees.

"Alright," Harry says. "Then we'd need to take him somewhere for the interrogation. I've got an invisibility cloak which'll help but that part will need some smoothing over. I know the password to Snape's potion stores so we can get a truth potion from there but apparently they're a bit tricky to use so we'll have to do some research on that front too."

"Excellent," the twins say.

"So then Patricia spilt pumpkin juice all over her robes at breakfast and she had to wear the ugliest robes ever to Hogsmeade – seriously, you should have seen them..."

Harry tunes out again. Really, Lavender and Parvati are only as interesting as the latest gossip and sometimes there just isn't anything happening that's worth repeating.

"... Are you even listening to me? Harry?"

"Er, yeah, poor Louise," Harry says.

"You don't care at all about what robes Louise wore to Hogsmeade, do you?"

Harry shrugs, "Cedric didn't notice, or if he did he didn't care."

Lavender perks up. "Really? He said that?" she asks.

"Well... he never mentioned anything about what she was wearing. I think he called her pretty."

"Ooh," Lavender says and then she shakes her head. "Sorry. We don't have to talk about this."

"You know, Lav," Harry says. "I think we should break up."

Lavender doesn't look surprised. "Yeah," she says with a sigh, "I suppose you're right. I mean it's been obvious for a while that this isn't working. It's nice being the only girl in our year that has a boyfriend though. Especially since it's you."

Harry rolls his eyes. "Well we're not going to stop being friends so if it really means that much to you we can pretend we didn't break up."

"Really?" Lavender says. "You don't mind?"

"Well it's a bit annoying because Cedric and Ollie and the twins are always teasing me about having a girlfriend but that doesn't really matter."

"Thanks Harry!" Lavender says. Then she hesitates and leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

A loud wolf-whistle makes Lavender blush bright red and run away.

"Nice work Harry!" Fred calls.

"Go for the lips next time!" George says.

Harry groans. He catches Lavender's eye as she goes up the stairs to the girls' dormitories and mouths, "You owe me."

"I can't believe you've never shown me this before," Harry says, pouring over the map. "Where'd you even get it?"

"Can we take care of the teacher we've kidnapped before talking about this?" Fred says.

"Are you ready to start?" George asks.

"Alright, alright," Harry says. They have Professor Lupin unconscious and bound to a chair in the middle of the room. The twins are side-by-side before him, straddling backwards chairs and Harry is perched on the desk behind them keeping an eye on the Marauders' Map. "Let's give him the veritaserum. Five drops, to be sure."

George administers them and the three share a look.

"Let's wake him up, then," Harry says twirling his wand nervously. "Rennervate."

They watch with bated breath as Lupin opens his eyes and blinks several times but otherwise makes no movement.

"What's your name?" George says after a pause.

"Remus John Lupin."

Harry and the twins look at each other. "Is that right?" Fred asks.

"Probably," Harry says. "I know his middle name starts with a 'J'."

"Yes," Lupin says at the same time.

"That's going to get annoying," George says.

"Remember, no open questions," Harry says.

"Do the date of birth," Fred says.

"When were you born?" George asks.

"In the evening on the 10th of March, 1960."

They look at each other and shrug again. "Okay."

"Were you ever Lily and James Potter's Secret Keeper?" Fred says.

"No."

"Do you know who was?"

"Sirius Black."

"Do you know who Lily and James Potter's Secret Keeper was after Sirius Black?"

"No one."

"Huh. Seems he's innocent," Harry says, hopping off the desk. "Where's the antidote?"

"Hang on," Fred says.

"We've got to make sure he's totally clear."

The identical redheads confer for a moment.

"Have you ever deliberately done anything to harm Harry Potter?" Fred asks.

"No."

"Have you ever deliberately done anything to harm Lily and James Potter?"

"No."

"Have you ever deliberately done anything to help You-Know-Who?"

"No."

"Okay," George says.

"We're good."

Harry hits the teacher with a stunner and Fred pours the antidote down his throat.

"So, uh, how do we wake him up without getting attacked or reported before we can explain?"

"I'll just get my house-elf to restrain him," Harry says casually.

"What?" the twins say in unison.

"You have a house-elf?"

"How?"

"Since when?"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Er, let's take care of the teacher we've kidnapped first," Harry says. "Dobby!"

The house-elf appears with a crack and Harry instructs him not to let Lupin move unless Harry says so while the twins continue to goggle at him.

"Okay," Harry says, "Let's do this. Rennervate."

Lupin wakes up much more quickly this time. "Wha-" he starts to say.

"Professor?" Harry interrupts, "I have some pretty big news for you."

"So Lavender tells me you insulted Trelawney and stormed out of Divination in a huff," Harry says. It's only taken the better part of the year, but he and Hermione are back to being friends again with the understanding that she won't ask him where he spent the summer and he won't ask her how she's managing to be in two places at once.

Hermione looks embarrassed. "Well if you heard the load of tripe she was trying to feed us all the time—"

"Look, I don't know what Trelawney's been saying but Divination is a real branch of magic," Harry interrupts. "It's not only about the future – you can use it to try and find out answers to certain questions or locate objects or spy on people, there's even a way to look into the past which Aurors use on crime scenes. It's difficult magic though, and pretty ambiguous a lot of the time but it's not all made up even if a lot of what Trelawney says is."

"I know," Hermione says, tugging on her hair with frustration, "It's the only reason I didn't walk out after the first week."

"Oh well, it's not for everyone," Harry says, "Like I said, it's really difficult magic and not many people have an aptitude for it. Quitting was probably the best decision for you since if you can't do it there's nothing you can do to change that."

Hermione sends him a fleeting smile. "Thanks Harry."

"Still," Harry says, "It's not like you to go off like that."

Hermione sits down with a heavy sigh. "I know. I've just been really stressed this year and then I missed charms and it was the last straw."

"You know," Harry says, pushing his luck, "Maybe you should drop Ancient Runes too; I know you've already covered everything in the course for this year – it's why I switched out of it – and Merlin knows you could use the extra time."

Hermione snorts mirthlessly and rubs her forehead, looking downcast. "I suppose. I love the discussions we have in class though."

Harry shrugs, "How about Muggle Studies then? All it's teaching you is that wizards know absolutely nothing about muggles."

"I know but there's only five people taking the class and I feel so bad for Professor Burbage. She tries so hard to convince everyone that muggles are equal to wizards."

"You'd think Wood could let up a bit since we've smashed the competition in every game this year," Alicia complains as she, Angelina, the twins and Harry stagger back to the castle after a particularly gruelling Quidditch training. Their captain is still out there, having coerced Katie into staying behind to help him get some extra practise in.

"It's his last year," Angelina points, "And everyone knows a few scouts always come to the final. He just wants to put on the best show he can."

"He doesn't need to prepare us for that," George says.

"A good player can be on a bad team," Fred agrees.

"I don't know how you fifth years do it," Harry says, "I'm barely keeping up with all my work and you've got O.W.L.s to prepare for."

"Don't remind me," Alicia groans. "I swear we could've finished the first four years in a month if they taught us at the same rate as now."

"You shouldn't stress so much," Fred says.

"O.W.L.s aren't the be all and end all," George continues.

"No matter what the teachers might say."

"And you don't have to do any of that work-"

"It's just stuff they suggest doing."

"Now is anyone up for a trip to the kitchens before returning to the tower?" George asks.

"Not me," Angelina says, "I can't wait another minute to take a shower."

"I'd better pass too," Alicia says reluctantly, "Unlike you two I actually want to do well in O.W.L.s."

"I guess it's just us three," Harry says as the girls depart.

"Excellent," George says.

"We've got something we've been meaning to give you."

George pulls the Marauder's Map from his pocket and presents it with a flourish. "It's a wrench, giving it away," he says.

"But we're moving in new directions now," Fred says.

"We're growing up—"

"Maturing—"

"And we can't keep breaking rules and causing mayhem our whole lives—"

Harry snorts in disbelief.

"Besides which, it's rightfully yours as the son of Prongs and apprentice of Padfoot," Fred says.

"Wow. Thanks guys," Harry says taking the Map reverently.

"There's one other thing—" George says. He and Fred are suddenly serious.

"It's about Professor Lupin."

"His reaction, when you told him about Mr Black—"

"We thought it was off at the time but we didn't want to say anything unless we were sure," Fred says.

"What is it?" Harry says warily. He's noticed Lupin acting strangely a few times too but Sirius has been so happy to have his friend back Harry can't bring himself to voice his thoughts.

"I know we've used veritaserum on him and everything seemed okay—"

"But don't trust him."

"He's hiding something, we're sure of it."

"Something bad." They exchange a look. "The expression on his face... We know that look."

"It's not when you make a mistake like thinking your best friend betrayed you to You-Know-Who."

"Everyone was doing that in the war," Fred says dismissively.

Harry nods; he's heard the stories too.

"It's when you fuck up so badly—"

"So irreversibly—"

"That you'd willingly betray your friends to You-Know-Who in order to keep it a secret—"

"Because if it ever came out you'd lose everything anyway."

"Good work Harry," Cedric says. "If you keep improving at the same rate I don't think I'll be any competition for you next year."

"Don't sell yourself short," Harry says, still puffing. "I've only beaten you twice and the first time I swear only happened because you were injured from the Quidditch match with Slytherin."

"Yet you've been regularly duelling me to a tie for the past few weeks and the only reason you haven't been winning is because I've got years experience on you and I know every trick you've got. When we started it was only your creativity and insane reflexes that made you interesting to duel."

Harry laughs, "And you were being so nice at the time, acting so impressed and telling me I was amazing."

Cedric laughs too. "You were though – for your age, I mean. And look at you now. My duelling tutor calls me a prodigy and here I'm being equalled by someone two years my junior."

"Oh, well," Harry says, rubbing the back of his neck. He's never been good at accepting complements. "So that's it then?"

"Yeah. I've got to really concentrate for O.W.L.s now."

"Good luck," Harry says. "Though as a hardworking Hufflepuff I doubt you'll need it."

Cedric wrestles him into a headlock and rubs his fist into Harry's hair. "Thanks you little brat. I'd say good luck to you for all your exams but as a little genius I doubt you need it."

Harry goes for a kidney jab with his elbow and wriggles his way free. His hair is sticking up in every direction and his face is red from being squeezed out of Cedric's grip. The older boy bursts out laughing. "You suck," Harry says.

"Okay that's enough," Harry says, letting his head thump down onto the table. He's in the Library with Padma, Stephan, Sally-Anne, Kevin, Justin, Ernie and Hermione. "If I study any more my head will explode."

Padma shrugs, "I'm pretty sure I already know all of this stuff anyway."

"I'll walk you back to the common room!" Stephan volunteers eagerly.

"I'm going to keep working," Hermione says.

"Me too," Ernie agrees. "I don't want to fail because I didn't study hard enough."

"We've still got over two months, I don't even understand why we're doing this in the first place," Harry says.

"Can someone go over the cheering charm with me again?" Sally-Anne requests.

"I still can't keep any of the dates in History straight," Justin complains.

"Well I'm done," Harry says. He taps his books, switching them with the quill on his bedside table, prompting a jealous look from Kevin.

"How'd you manage to—"

"No, no, no, no. No more academic talk," Harry says, all but bolting out of the Library. He nearly turns towards the Common Room but decides to drop by Sirius' place and see if his godfather is in.

Another switching spell with the quill retrieves his invisibility cloak from his trunk and twenty minutes later he reaches the Three Broomsticks.

"Hey Rosie," Harry says, appearing behind the curvaceous bartender in a quiet moment.

"Harry!"

"Not so loud; you'll get me in trouble" Harry complains. "Anyway, I was wondering if I could use your floo?"

"Of course," Rosemerta says, "But that's the last time if you keep scaring me like that."

Harry grins and winks, "Thanks." He grabs a pinch of floo powder and throws it in the fire, stepping after it with a cry of, "Grimmauld Place!"

He stumbles into the dark, empty kitchen and almost thinks no one is home but then angry voices float down from upstairs. Harry approaches the door softly. He can hear his godfather yelling, "What is wrong with you Moony? Dammit, this isn't like you... Just tell me. We've been best mates for over twenty years...? Don't try that shit with me... You've been acting funny; no – don't deny it. Do you still think I'm guilty...? This is not how you act when you feel guilty. I know what that looks like..."

Harry shuts the door and backs away. Clearly now is not a good time. He'll have to mirror-call his godfather tomorrow though, and talk him out of his funk.

"Ollie!" Harry calls. The seventh year stops and Harry jogs to catch up to him, "Hey, I heard you got signed to Puddlemere United! Congratulations!"

"The reserve team," Oliver corrects, "Still it'll be so great to work with professionals and hopefully from there I can improve enough to make the actual team."

"Don't be so modest! I hear you're the youngest person they've signed in over twenty years," Harry says. "You'll be out there playing in the League in no time!"

"That's only because usually they wait until after graduation to sign anyone. I don't know how long I'll hold that record though – they were asking questions about you and seemed pretty damn interested."

Harry waved him away, "Boy-who-lived coupled with youngest seeker in ages; of course they're curious. Seriously though Ollie, really good work. You deserve it."

"Thanks, Harry."

"And don't forget me when you make it big time, okay? I want season tickets!"

"You're the Boy-who-lived; I'm sure you can get free season tickets by promising to publicly support any team."

"Hey! I have more dignity than that!" Harry protests. "Although... season tickets are worth a lot..."

Oliver laughs and Harry glares. "Ah, whatever. This is where I leave you."

"You're not coming back to the common room?" Oliver asks.

"Nah I have stuff to do," Harry says. "Hey you know, Ollie, maybe you should lighten up on the training now. You don't want to overwork yourself now that you're a professional athlete."

"Actually, I was thinking we should train more often. I don't want to embarrass myself when I start working with the team, or have them decide I wasn't what they were looking for. Besides I need to get you guys into shape for next year since the team will be changing for the first time in three years."

"I really hope that was a joke, Ollie!" Harry calls as he walks backwards away from the seventh year.

"I never joke about Quidditch!"

"The scary thing is that it's true," Harry mutters to himself as he makes his way up the North Tower.

His smile fades as his thoughts turn to Professor Lupin. No matter what the twins say he can't bring himself to think that the werewolf would ever betray him or Sirius to anyone, let alone Voldemort – if anything he's almost too protective of them. Still, there's definitely something off about him and Harry's not going to risk his godfather (who also happens to be his only chance at getting away from the Dursleys). Hopefully it will only turn out to be something minor. Not too minor though; growing up with his aunt and uncle taught Harry the benefits of having blackmail material to hold over his guardians' heads.

In no time at all Harry has made it to Professor Trelawney's office which looks even less office-like than Dumbledore's; he doubts whether a single piece of paperwork has ever been done here.

"Professor Trelawney," Harry says, pushing those thoughts from his mind, "What can you tell me about divining the past."

Harry stumbles out of the fireplace at number 12 Grimmauld Place, and nearly falls to the ground before catching himself and staggering into the wall. He's peripherally aware of Sirius jumping to his feet and knocking over the kitchen chair he was sitting on but most of his attention is focused on not giving in to the whirling mosaic of images, emotions and impressions flitting through his head.

"Harry?" Sirius says, "What happened? And..." his nose twitches and his concern turns to suspicion, "Why do you smell like weed?"

Forget, a vengeful voice orders. Harry's mind goes blank for a moment with the power of the fragmented memory but then the almost painfully tight grip on his shoulders helps him focus. "Divination ritual," he gasps. There was a reason he was fighting Voldemort, something that kept him strong even when he was so tired of all the bloodshed and constant losses. There was hope. There was hope, God dammit, he was so sure of it. Except Harry hasn't fought in any wars and this is just another effect of the ritual.

Unlike the first time Harry tried his hand at divination, when the knowledge he looked for was simply waiting to be unlocked and revealed itself like a softly opening flower at his prodding, this time it burst out at him in an onslaught of information, desperate to reveal itself. The problem is that it is too much and answer he is looking for is buried beneath the overwhelming visions.

Harry only comes back to the present when Sirius tries to move him. "Sit down," he says, "Let me get you some water."

"No!" Harry shouts. This is important. Sirius has to know. He's not sure if it's him or the divination magic speaking anymore but either way, "Lupin – you have to know-"

"What happened?" Sirius asks, alarmed, "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Harry snarls, seeing the werewolf standing over his bound and unconscious godfather with his wand pointed wrathfully at the helpless man. "But he- he's not who you think he is. You don't understand. What he did-"

"What he did? What did he do? Are you okay?" Sirius asks, checking over the boy.

"No. Not me – you. What he did to you," Harry says. His godfather doesn't understand and he's not sure if has the words to make him get it. "It was... I saw it... I felt it. He forced his way into your mind; ripped through your thoughts. You were – it was just after Azkaban I think. You were... not right... affected. A woman told Lupin where to find you and her, only she'd been dead for weeks. She called him and asked for help."

"Maddie," Sirius says, his brow furrowed, "She wasn't dead but Moony would have thought she was."

"Well Lupin came and you welcomed him but he was so angry." Harry shudders and squeezes his eyes shut. "He tore into your head. It was brutal. There was something you fought for but he erased it and made you think you'd lost everything. Then the ghost, no, you said she was alive, right? The woman... she came back and took you away."

"You don't understand-"

Harry and Sirius look up. Remus is standing in the doorway looking stricken.

"You bastard," Sirius snarls.

"I thought you were trying to kill him. You'd already broken out once; I had to make sure that if you got away again he'd be safe," Remus pleads. "It was for Harry. You'd have done the same in my place; you know it."

"Don't," Sirius says, the single word sounding so threatening that Harry flinches even knowing it's not directed at him. "Just get out of here."

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore says just as Harry reaches up to knock.

"Hello sir," Harry says nervously, shuffling into the office. He's not happy about this but Sirius has been firm in his decision and Harry trusts his godfather.

"Make yourself comfortable," Dumbledore invites, gesturing to the squishy armchair across from his desk. "I'm sorry it took so long to organise a meeting. I've been dreadfully busy of late, though that is a poor excuse for neglecting my students."

"Do you know about the dark lord too, sir?" Harry says before he can stop himself.

Dumbledore stills. "How do you know about that?" he says, peering at Harry over his half-moon glasses.

"Er, I've got a lot to tell you, sir, and that only really comes in at the end."

I'm not a huge fan of how this turned out. It was harder than expected to write without the structure of canon events to work from, and with things changing so much there wasn't so much assumed knowledge I could leave out. I also got a bit out of the swing of things with over my break, not that it's any excuse. Let me know what you think because I'm floundering a bit here. Was the structure too messy? Did the plot make sense? What worked/didn't work? Could you tell what Remus did to Sirius? It was clear in my head but I think that's only because I'm writing it.

It also might be a bit (or a lot) unedited because in the end I got frustrated and decided to post before I just deleted the whole thing and started from scratch. Heh. If it's too horrible let me know and I might redo it at a later date.

Hopefully forth year will turn out better since with the Tournament I'll have a guideline to follow again, but there's still going to be major diversions. Get excited! But not too excited in case I take ages again...

P.S. I'm thinking of changing the name and description because they really only refer to the first chapter - a minor lack of foresight on my part - but I'm not sure if that makes it annoying for you guys or if it's worth bothering. Thoughts?

Edit: 04/08

I rewrote the bit where Harry tells Sirius what Remus did since a lot of people seemed confused by it but I'm not sure if it's any clearer. I wanted it to be a bit confused anyway because Harry doesn't quite know what he's saying or what he saw since divination is pretty ambiguous. Sirius catches on because he has more clues and Remus knows because he was the one that did it.