Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise; the usual rules, you know (And I got the original idea for this from 'Harry Potter and the Time Mage', even if I took the time-travel aspect out of the equation)

Feedback: Always a pleasure

AN: Less divergence from canon here, but it had some personal points of development that I felt were important.

Harry Potter/Granger and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Despite Harry and Hermione's subtle suspicions about Professor Lupin's actions in the boggart class, it didn't take long for them to agree with the popular assessment of Defence Against the Dark Arts as having become the favourite class of the majority of the school. The exceptions were mainly Malfoy and his gang, who commonly criticised Lupin's shabby robes in overly loud whispers, but nobody else cared about his appearance considering the quality of his lessons. His primary focus appeared to be training them to prepare to deal with dangerous magical creatures, ranging from Red Caps, goblins that lurked around locations where there had been death in the past to attack anyone wandering around, to Kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly aquatic monkeys willing to drown anyone who waded into their ponds.

Defence was definitely his top subject right now, but Harry had to admit that most of his others weren't that bad. Potions remained the worst one, having apparently hit a new low after Snape apparently learned about Neville's boggart, resulting in him bullying Neville worse than ever, to say nothing of him looking particularly malicious whenever Professor Lupin's name came up in his vicinity.

Still, Transfiguration, Herbology and Charms remained as interesting as ever, History of Magic was a good opportunity to rest, and Ancient Runes was proving to be rather fascinating, even if they were still focusing more on the history of the Runes rather than actually using them in active spellwork. They'd covered some of the standard runes that had been used in most early spellwork for erecting wards such as the muggle protection charms that were still used in parts of the wizarding world today, but it would take a while before they reached the point where they'd be allowed to use the Runes themselves.

Care of Magical Creatures was actually going rather well, all things considered. Hagrid initially seemed to have lost his confidence, with his first few lessons focusing simply on teaching them how to look after the remarkably boring Flobberworms, but as time went on he began to expand into more elaborate creatures, such as Jobberknolls. Hagrid seemed to be slightly disappointed at their more straightforward nature, but Hermione had complimented him on the variety in his classes, which seemed to improve his mood.

The rest of the classes all went as well as could be expected, following the patterns that Harry had become familiar with after over two years at Hogwarts. His established routine was only disrupted when Oliver Wood called a meeting one Thursday to discuss tactics for the new Quidditch season. With Oliver now in his final year, there was a new edge of desperation in his voice as he addressed the rest of the team.

"This is our last chance- my last chance- to win the Quidditch cup," he said as the seven of them stood in the cold changing rooms. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year; I'll never have another shot at it.

"Gryffindor haven't won for seven years now. OK, so we've had the worst luck in the world, what with injuries, then the tournament getting called off last year…" Wood swallowed, as though the memory of that mess was still unpleasant. Even if Harry, Ron and Hermione had managed to save Ginny, without any evidence that could be provided to the governors without implicating Ginny, they'd ordered quidditch and other extra-curricular activities to remain cancelled until they could be sure that no further attacks were taking place. Harry sometimes wondered if it was some kind of last attempt by Lucius to pay him and his friends back for stopping the diary before it could do any real damage…

"But," Wood continued, punching a fist resolutely into his other hand, "we also know that we've got the best- ruddy- team- in- the- school. We've got three superb Chasers, two unbeatable Beaters, and a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match! And me."

"We think you're very good too, Oliver," George said, smiling at the captain.

"Cracking Keeper," Fred confirmed.

"The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing…"

"Oliver, this year's our year," Fred said, the captain so dejected that it apparently caused sympathy to trump the twins' usual joking manner.

"We'll do it, Oliver!" Angelina said firmly.

"Definitely," Harry added.

The training sessions went on from that moment, three evenings a week, regardless of the increasingly-poor weather and darker nights; with all the stress of his new courses, it was almost relaxing to have a chance to get out and stretch his metaphorical wings, thinking about nothing more than the air in his face and the wind around him as he searched for the snitch.


When news of the first Hogsmeade weekend was released, it inspired more discussion between Harry and Hermione than anyone else might have expected. The Hogsmeade forms had been signed before Harry or Hermione knew that Black was specifically after Harry, so there was the issue of Black's apparent vendetta against Harry to consider but after a brief discussion, both had concluded that they weren't going to worry about that issue any more than they had to; so long as they stayed in a group in populated areas, it wasn't likely that Black would try anything. He might have killed thirteen people with a single spell once, but that was in a street full of muggles while mad with rage; Black was hardly likely to want to expose himself in a situation where he'd be surrounded by wizards who'd have a better chance at catching him, particularly when he knew what it would be like if he was caught.

The Hogsmeade trip was a risk, but so long as nobody called attention to it, Harry was going to proceed as though he could go and take action accordingly.

Besides, right now he had more immediate concerns to deal with in the form of Ron and Hermione's current 'disagreement' regarding Crookshanks' attitude to Scabbers. Harry was trying to maintain a more balanced view of the situation than his sister or his friend, but that was actually complicated by his ability to see both sides; Ron was perfectly right to be protective of his pet, but it wasn't like anyone could blame Crookshanks for just acting like any cat would when faced with a rat (Even if it was frustrating when Crookshanks seemed to go for Scabbers even when the rat wasn't even visible).

Unfortunately, Harry's initial good mood was quashed when McGonagall asked him to stay behind after the lesson where she announced that Hogsmeade forms should be handed to her before Halloween, the sombre expression on his house head's face warning him that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear even before she spoke.

"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter," she said solemnly. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black-"

"I already know he's after me, Professor," Harry interrupted; he had a feeling that he knew where this conversation was going to go, but he might as well be honest right now.

"I see," McGonagall said, nodding briefly in relief at that news before she continued. "Well, in that case, I feel that you will understand why I cannot permit you to go to Hogsmeade at this time."

"I…" Harry began, before he sighed in understanding. "Of course…"

There really wasn't anything else that could be said at this point; her point was valid, and there was nothing more that he could say to argue against it that wouldn't just sound petty.

This was definitely shaping up to be an awkward day; Ron and Hermione had an argument about Scabbers in the morning, Lavender had broken down because her rabbit had been killed and it had apparently been predicted by the Divination professor in one of their first lessons- even if Harry had to wonder about that; as Hermione had pointed out later, Lavender had apparently just been told that something bad would happen today and you could only definitely say that she'd received the news today- and now he was going to have to stay behind while everyone else in his year got to go to Hogsmeade…

It might be the kind of bad day that normal people had to deal with, as opposed to the kind of bad day he'd had when he confronted Voldemort and Quirrell over the Philosopher's Stone, or their confrontation with Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, but that didn't mean it wasn't awkward.


The next few days were some of the most conventionally frustrating few days he had spent at Hogwarts since he had arrived; being suspected of attacking fellow students was so unconventional that you expected everyone to feel awkward, but it was something else to be in a position where nobody could understand how you felt because it was just too awkward to do so. He had been forced to tell some of his immediate acquaintances about Black's possible interest in going after him to explain why Hermione was still able to go to Hogsmeade when he wasn't- she'd offered to stay behind with him, but Harry didn't want to deprive his sister of the opportunity when there was no reason for Black to be targeting her that they knew of- but that had only shifted the discomfort back to the awkwardness that he was used to experiencing as the odd student out, rather than make it easier. Ron had suggested that he try and sneak out anyone, but Hermione had put a stop to that plan by reminding him that Dementors could see through them, leaving Harry with nothing else to do but listen to what other people were planning to do in the village.

When the day of the trip finally came, Harry ate breakfast with the rest of the school feeling thoroughly depressed, trying to react normally, even as Hermione weakly offered to bring back some sweets from the local shop as some kind of compensation. Parting with his friends as they walked through the Entrance Hall to the main door, Harry headed back to Gryffindor Tower before anyone outside Gryffindor could spot him; the last thing he wanted was teasing or questions from anyone outside his house, and at least this way he could claim that people just hadn't seen him there if any of the other houses asked where he'd been.

Briefly considering and discarding the possibility of returning to the common room- he was used to sticking out for reasons outside his control, but he wasn't going to go there and deal with further stares if he didn't have to- he turned to head for the library, hoping he'd think of something interesting to look over when he got there. Changing his mind halfway to his destination, he decided to head for the owlery instead, only to hear a voice calling his name.

"Wh-?" he began, turning towards the source of the voice, quickly seeing Professor Lupin looking out of his office.

"What are you doing here?" Lupin asked, looking curiously at him. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Hogsmeade," Harry replied, hoping that he sounded more casual than h felt.

"Ah," Lupin said, looking thoughtfully at him for a moment. "Why don't you come in? I've just taken delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson."

"Really?" Harry said, following Lupin into the office. It didn't take long to see the creature Lupin had mentioned; a sickly green creature with sharp horns was in a tank of water, its face pressed against the glass as it made strange expressions and flexed its long fingers.

"Water demon," Lupin explained, as he thoughtfully contemplated the creature, which briefly bared its teeth at them before burying itself in a tangle of weed in the corner. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the Kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You noticed the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."

"Ah," Harry said, before he made a decision to tackle one question that had been bothering him since his first lesson with the new teacher (The other was too personal for him to expect an answer right now). "Professor Lupin, in our first class… why didn't you let me tackle the boggart?"

"I would have thought that was obvious, Harry," Lupin said, looking at him in surprise.

"Why?" Harry repeated, stuck for anything better to say to Lupin's frank confession.

"Well," Lupin said, frowning slightly at him, "I assumed that if the boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort."

Whatever Harry had been expecting, he hadn't been expecting that; Lupin had not only admitted to having kept Harry from the boggart, but had even done what only Dumbledore and muggles had done in Harry's experience and actually uttered Voldemort's name.

"Clearly, I was wrong," Lupin said, studying Harry thoughtfully, "but at the time, I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialise in the staff room; I imagined that people would panic."

"I did think of Voldemort first," Harry said, deciding to respond to Lupin's honesty with his own confession. "But then I thought of my cousin… and… well, the Dementors…"

"I see…" Lupin said, nodding thoughtfully before he smiled. "Well then, Harry, that suggests that what you fear most of all is… fear. Very wise."

Stuck for anything to say, Harry simply shrugged and smiled gratefully at Lupin.

"So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?" Lupin asked shrewdly.

"Well… yeah," Harry said, nodding in acknowledge of Lupin's assessment. Lupin was about to reply when someone knocked on the door, which opened to reveal Snape carrying a smoking goblet, the Potions master looking pointedly at Harry.

"Ah, Severus," Lupin said, smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Not bothering to reply verbally, Snape simply set the goblet down on the table, eyes flicking curiously at Harry.

"I was just showing Harry my Grindylow," Lupin said pleasantly, indicating the tank.

"Fascinating," Snape said, not even bothering to look at the creature in question. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will," Lupin said.

"I made an entire cauldronful," Snape added. "If you need more."

"I should probably take some again tomorrow," Lupin said. "Thanks very much, Severus."

"Not at all," Snape said, before he backed out of the room and left, a look in his eye that Harry didn't like.

"Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me," Lupin said, noting Harry's curiosity at the newly-arrived goblet. "I've never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex… to say nothing of being unpleasant…"

"Why…?" Harry began, stopping himself as he realised that this topic might be too personal.

"I've been feeling a bit off-colour," Lupin said, smiling at him in understanding. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I'm actually very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."

There wasn't anything that Harry could really say to that statement; he didn't like Snape that much, but he doubted that Snape would try and poison someone just to get his dream job, particularly not with a witness to the fact that Lupin had just received a suspicious-looking potion from him.

He just wished that he could feel totally comfortable with that reasoning as he saw Lupin downing the disgusting-looking drink…


Harry was actually relieved when Ron and Hermione arrived back in the common room that evening, providing him with a new bunch of sweets and some interesting stories about the other shops; at least it gave him something new to think about. He might not be able to go to Hogsmeade himself, but at least his sister and his friend had been having fun during the day; he just regretted that he didn't have anything interesting to tell them in response, considering that he wasn't sure if what he'd seen between Snape and Lupin was worth mentioning and had generally just tried to get some work done after leaving Lupin's classroom.

Still, despite his frustrated inactivity of the previous few hours, Harry appreciated the return to tradition as the entire student body attended the Halloween feast. The Great Hall was decorated with illuminated pumpkins, a cloud of live bats, and various orange streamers were swimming lazily around the upper rafters, as well as the traditionally exceptional food. Glancing over at the staff table was enough for Harry to confirm that Lupin still seemed to be in good health, so he decided to stick with his plan to ignore the goblet incident for the moment; Snape couldn't exactly be a complete git all the time if he wanted to maintain Dumbledore's trust, after all…

Following some after-feast entertainment from the Hogwarts ghosts, including an intriguing re-enactment of Nearly Headless Nick's botched beheading, the feast had concluded and everyone began to return to their respective Houses. Harry was just starting to look forward to a relaxing night in the dorm room when they arrived at the corridor leading up to the Fat Lady's portrait and found it jam-packed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" Ron asked curiously. Harry tried to peer over the heads in front of him, but all he could tell was that the portrait appeared to be closed until he noticed Percy walking up towards it, resulting in a moment's silence before he issued an order to get Professor Dumbledore. It was still impossible to see what had everyone so riled up at the moment, but when the headmaster arrived and walked forward to investigate, Harry and his friends seized the opportunity to move forward for a closer look, prompting a horrified gasp from Hermione as they saw what had happened; the Fat Lady's portrait had been viciously attacked, strips of canvas littering the floor and large chunks torn away completely, while the Fat Lady herself was nowhere to be seen.

"We need to find her," Dumbledore said grimly. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" a cackling voice said, quickly revealing the speaker's identity as Peeves, bobbing over the crowd with a delighted grin as he stared at the portrait.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore asked, looking calmly at the poltergeist.

"Ashamed, your Headship, sir," Peeves responded, his grin fading to be replaced by an oily tone of voice that wasn't much of an improvement. "Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful, poor thing."

"Did she say who did it?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," Peeves said, clearly eager at the reaction that his imminent announcement would receive. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over, and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."