Alright gang, time to get groovy! Huh? So we're not in the 60's anymore? Then where will I keep all my moonbeads and bell-bottoms? No, I will not sell them to that guy! Becuase he sniffs all the things I sell him! I don't care if he's got a hot daughter! I care even less about his hot son! Huh? Oh wait, I'm doing an A/N? Oh well, call you back later, Grandma!

Okay cool cats, and slick rats, let's get groovy! This chapter is devoted to showing Harry's emotional trek and growing intelligence while dealing with said emotions. The ending, however, will show just how far Harry's come… and just how far he has to fall…

Chapter 9: Grim and Hollow, Part 3


Harry didn't have a very clear idea of how he had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel, and into the castle once more. All he knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that he hardly noticed what he was doing, because his head was still pounding with the conversation he had just heard. Harry did, however, suspect that an invisible Soi Fon had something to do with his return to the castle as he had felt an invisible arm pulling him along the entire time.

Why had nobody told him? Dumbledore, Hagrid, Mr. Weasley, Cornelius Fudge… why hadn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that Harry's parents had died because their best friend had betrayed them? He would have thought that was something to tell a boy being chased by the very killer who managed to get into the castle.

But, apparently to them, he didn't need to know such things.

Ron and Hermione watched Harry nervously all through dinner, not daring to talk about what they'd overheard, because Percy was sitting close by them. Soi Fon stood near, not speaking as she gave him worried glances and bit her lower lip.

When they went upstairs to the crowded common room, it was to find Fred and George had set off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of-term high spirits. Harry, who didn't want Fred and George asking him whether he'd reached Hogsmeade or not, sneaked quietly up to the empty dormitory and headed straight for his bedside cabinet. He pushed his books aside and quickly found what he was looking for; the leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given him two years ago, which was full of wizarding-pictures of his mother and father. Harry sat down on his bed, drew the hangings around him, and started turning the pages, searching, until…

Harry stopped on a picture of his parents' wedding day. There was his father waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair that he had inherited standing up in all directions. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his father. And there… that must have been him. Their best man… Harry had never given him a thought before.

If he hadn't known it was the same person, he would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter unlike the prison picture Harry had seen before. Had he already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?

"But the Dementors don't affect him." Harry thought, staring into the handsome, laughing face, "He doesn't have to hear my Mum screaming if they get too close. He doesn't have to-"

"Pot-… Harry…" a small, timid voice called as Harry slammed the album shut.

"Who's there?" Harry asked as he saw a form outside his curtains.

"It's me… Soi Fon…" the shy voice replied as Harry lowered his eyes. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He just wanted to wallow in depression in peace, "I know you don't wanna talk, and I might not really know how you feel right now, but if you ever do feel like talking or anything… Well, I'm here, ya know." Soi Fon said, sounding as though her speaking to him dredged up painful memories. Harry stayed quiet though, feeling the hollowness of his own heart as he thought about what Black did to his parents.

"I'm always here… Pot-… Harry. If not me, then Mayuri, or Hachi… some of the others as well. You… Just… Listen, you have friends; living and Soul Reaper… We'll be here for you, if you need us…" Soi Fon said in a quiet voice as Harry saw her figure turn about, "… if you let us…" and then, the figure was gone, back to the shadows from whence it came.

Harry stared at the closed photo album for a long while. He sighed after what must have been twenty minutes, reaching over and stuffing the album back into his cabinet before he took off his robe and glasses and got into bed, making sure the hangings were hiding him from view.

Just as he was about to curl up and cry himself to sleep, the dormitory door opened.

"Harry?" Ron's voice said with a certain degree of uncertainly.

But Harry didn't reply. He lay still, pretending to be asleep. He heard Ron leave again, and rolled over on his back, his eyes wide open.

Harry had no clue where it came from, but he knew it would come sooner or later. A hatred of such he had never known before was coursing through him like poison. He could just see it; Black laughing at him through the darkness, as though somebody had pasted the picture from the album over his eyes.

Harry watched, as though somebody was playing him a piece of film, Sirius Black blasting Peter Pettigrew (who resembled Neville Longbottom, in Harry's own mind) into a thousand pieces. He could hear (though having no idea what Black's voice might sound like) a low, excited mutter. "It has happened, My Lord… the Potters have made me their Secret-Keeper" and then came another voice, laughing shrilly, the same laugh that Harry heard inside his head whenever the Dementors drew near…


"Harry, you… you look terrible."

"Gee thanks for that 'Mione." Harry said as Hermione smiled.

"Anytime."

Harry hadn't gotten to sleep until daybreak. He had awoken to find the dormitory deserted, dressed, and gone down the spiral staircase to a common room that was completely empty except for Ron, who was eating a Peppermint Toad and massaging his stomach, and Hermione, who had spread her homework over three tables.

"Where is everyone?" Harry asked sleepily as Ron and Hermione exchanged looks before gazing on him again.

"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" Ron said, watching Harry closely, "It's nearly lunchtime; I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."

Harry slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug.

"You really don't look well, you know." Hermione said, peering anxiously into his face.

"What did you expect?" Harry asked quietly, not bothering to look up at his female best friend.

"Exactly what you look like of course. I just hoped you would have looked better." Hermione said, though she tried to make light of it, it was doing nothing for Harry's mood.

"I'm fine." Harry said.

"Harry, listen…" Hermione said, exchanging a look with Ron, "You must be really upset about what we heard yesterday, but the thing is; you mustn't go doing anything stupid."

"Like what?" Harry snapped, growing tired of people not telling him what was important, yet having the gall to tell him what to do.

"Like trying to go after Black." Ron said sharply, knowing his friend would react the way he did.

Harry could tell they had rehearsed this conversation while he had been asleep. He didn't say anything. He was perfectly fine to brood on his thoughts while they got their good lives, with their good families, and their-

Harry cut his own train of thoughts off. No, he wouldn't be like that. IT wasn't their faults his life was messed up. However, that still didn't dismiss the fact that his two best friends didn't understand… not at all.

"You won't go after him… will you, Harry?" Hermione said, her hands shaking in her lap as Ron sat up straight.

"Because Black's not worth dying for." Ron said quickly, as Harry looked both his friends in the eye

They didn't seem to understand… not at all.

"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Harry said suddenly as Ron and Hermione shook their heads, looking apprehensive, "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in such a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her-"

"There's nothing you can do!" Hermione said quickly, looking as if she had been struck, "The Dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and… and serve him right!"

"You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others." Harry snapped as Hermione lowered her head.

"So what are you saying…?" Ron said, looking very tense, "You want to… to kill Black or something?"

"Don't be silly." Hermione said in a panicky voice as her hands shook violently, "Harry doesn't want to kill anyone… d-do you, Harry?"

Again, Harry didn't answer. He didn't know what he wanted to do. All he knew was that the idea of doing nothing, while Black was at liberty, was almost more than he could stand. Then, something clicked to him as he stood abruptly.

"Draco knows." Harry said abruptly, more to himself than any other, "Remember what he said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself… I'd want revenge.' This is what he was talking about!"

"You're going to take Malfoy's advice instead of ours?" Ron said furiously, "Listen… you know what Pettigrew's mother got back after Black had finished with him? Dad told me. It was the Order of Merlin- First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit of him they could find. Black's a madman, Harry, and he's dangerous-"

"Draco's dad must have told him." Harry said tightly with his fists clenched, ignoring Ron, "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle-"

"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" Ron interjected angrily.

"-so obviously, the Malfoys knew Black was working for Voldemort."

"— and Malfoy'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. Malfoy's just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch."

"Harry, please…" Hermione said quietly, her eyes now shining with unshed tears, "Please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants… Oh, Harry, you'd be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Black!"

"I'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them…" Harry said shortly and crispy, his friends flinching at his cutting tone.

There was a silence in which Crookshanks started to stretch, flexing his claws luxuriously as Ron's pocket quivered.

"Look!" Ron said, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "It's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's… Umm… let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"

"No!" Hermione said, shooting down the idea quickly, "Harry isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ron-"

"Yeah, let's go." Harry said, sitting up, "And then I can ask him how come he never mentioned Sirius Black to me when he told me all about my parents!"

Further discussion of Sirius Black plainly wasn't what Ron had had in mind.

"Or, or, or… we could have a game of chess." Ron said hastily, "Or even Gobstones. Percy left a set-"

"No, let's visit Hagrid." Harry said so firmly that Ron merely shut his mouth and all protests died in both his friends.

So they got their cloaks from their dormitories, and set off through the portrait hole ("Stand and fight, you yellow-bellied mongrels!" "Shut up!" "… Someone's a grumpy monkey…"), down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.

They made their way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, their socks and the hems of their cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.

Ron knocked, but there was no answer.

"He's not out, is he?" Hermione asked, shivering under her cloak as Ron put his ear to the door.

"There's a weird noise…" Ron said as he listened closer, "Listen… is that Fang?"

Harry and Hermione put their ears to the door too. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throatily moans.

"Think we'd better go and get someone?" Ron said nervously as Harry moved his friend out of the way.

"Hagrid!" Harry called, pounding at the door with his fist, "Hagrid, are you in there?"

There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather vest.

"You've heard?" Hagrid bellowed mournfully, as he flung himself onto Harry's neck.

Hagrid being at least twice the size of a normal man, this was no laughing matter as Harry held Hagrid it. It astonished him greatly that he was holding up his half-giant of a friend with only a moderate amount of difficulty. However, even Harry couldn't keep Harry up for long, as after a few minutes, Harry was about to collapse under Hagrid's weight. Ron and Hermione soon came to his rescue after getting over the shock of Harry's new-found strength and how long Harry was able to keep going. Ron and Hermione both seized Hagrid under each arm and, with Harry's help, heaved him back into the cabin. Hagrid allowed himself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears that dripped down into his tangled beard.

"Hagrid, what is it?" Hermione asked, sounding aghast.

Harry, however, had already spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table.

"What's this, Hagrid?" Harry asked as Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter toward Harry, who picked it up and read aloud:

Dear Mr. Hagrid,

Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident.

"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" Ron said, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder happily, but Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting Harry to read on.

However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.

Yours in fellowship…

There followed a list of the school governors, one most notably being Lucius Malfoy.

"Oh." Ron said, his face falling, "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad Hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off."

"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" Hagrid choked out, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"

A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made Harry, Ron, and Hermione whip around. Harry had his wand out in a flash, brandishing it as if he were a knight with a sword. Buckbeak the Hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor. Harry sighed, slipping his wand back into the hidden pocket of his cloak.

"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" Hagrid choked out, "All on his own! At Christmas!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, having never seen eye-to-eye with Hagrid about what he called "interesting creatures" or what other (logical) people called "terrifying monsters." On the other hand, there didn't seem to be any particular harm in Buckbeak. In fact, by Hagrid's usual standards, he was positively cute.

"You'll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid." Hermione said, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm, "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."

"Won' make no diff'rence!" Hagrid sobbed out as he ran a hand across his face to wipe away the fresh tears, "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! And if I lose the case, Buckbeak-"

Hagrid cut himself off to draw his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, his face in his arms.

"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" Harry said, his anger and depression melted away in favor of his friend's own anguish.

He'd be having a serious talk with Draco later on.

"He's done more'n enough fer me already." Hagrid groaned, "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around."

Ron and Hermione looked quickly at Harry, as though expecting him to start berating Hagrid for not telling him the truth about Black. But Harry couldn't bring himself to do it, not now that he saw Hagrid so miserable and scared.

"Listen, Hagrid…" Harry said, "You can't give up. Hermione's right, you just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses-"

"I'm sure I've read about a case of Hippogriff-baiting where the Hippogriff got off. " Hermione said thoughtfully, cutting Harry off as he frowned at her, "I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."

Hagrid howled still more loudly as Harry and Hermione looked at Ron to help them.

"Er… shall I make a cup of tea?" Ron said lamely as his two friends, and even Buckbeak from the corner, gave him a deadpan look. Harry and Hermione continued to stare at him while Buckbeak seemed to roll his eyes and give up.

"What? It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset." Ron muttered in his defense, shrugging.

At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together…"

Fang the boarhound came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.

"I've not bin meself lately." said Hagrid, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other, "Worried about Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes-"

"We do like them!" Hermione lied at once.

"Yeah, they're great!" Ron said, crossing his fingers under the table, "Er… how are the flobberworms?"

"Dead." Hagrid said gloomily, "T-Too much lettuce."

"Oh no!" Ron said dramatically, his lip twitching.

"An' them Dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all." said Hagrid, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. It's like bein' back in Azkaban…"

Hagrid fell silent, gulping his tea down as if it were a much stronger brood. Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched him breathlessly. They had never heard Hagrid talk about his brief spell in Azkaban before.

After a pause, Hermione said timidly, "Is it awful in there, Hagrid?"

"Yeh've no idea." Hagrid said quietly, "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind… the day I got expelled from Hogwarts… day me dad died… day I had ter let Norbert go…"

His eyes filled with tears as he thought of Norbert, the baby dragon Hagrid had once won in a game of cards.

"Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' really see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep. When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the Dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."

"But you were innocent!" Hermione cried out as Hagrid snorted.

"Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."

Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea as though reflecting on something. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go… tryin' ter make him fly away… but how d'yeh explain ter a Hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An' — an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law…" He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."


The trip to Hagrid's, though far from fun, had nevertheless had the effect Ron and Hermione had hoped for. Though Harry had by no means forgotten about Sirius Black, he couldn't brood constantly on revenge if he wanted to help Hagrid win his case against the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. He, Ron, and Hermione went to the library the next day and returned to the empty common room laden with books that might help prepare a defense for Buckbeak. The three of them sat in front of the roaring fire, slowly turning the pages of dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when they ran across something relevant.

"Here's something… there was a case in 1722… but the Hippogriff was convicted …Ugh, look what they did to it, that's… disgusting."

"This might help, look. A Manticore savaged someone in 1296, and they let the Manticore off… Oh… oh no, wait. That was only because everyone was too scared to go near it…"

Meanwhile, in the rest of the castle, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armor, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that even Scabbers had poked his nose out of the shelter of Ron's pocket to sniff hopefully at the air.

On Christmas morning, Harry was woken by Ron throwing his pillow at him.

"Oy! Presents!"

Harry reached for his glasses and put them on, squinting through the semi-darkness to the foot of his bed, where a small heap of parcels had appeared. Ron was already ripping the paper off his own presents. Harry sighed as he looked around, catching sight of a shadow molding back into shape.

"Soi Fon…" Harry muttered as Ron groaned.

"Another sweater from Mum… maroon again… see if you've got one." Ron said as Harry cracked a small smile as he opened one of his presents.

He did get one. Mrs. Weasley had sent him a scarlet sweater with the Gryffindor lion knitted on the front, also a dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake, and a box of nut brittle. There was even some other things, like a present he was sure was a book, and another that was oddly shaped. However, as Harry moved all these things aside, he saw a long, thin package lying underneath.

"What's that?" Ron asked, looking over a freshly unwrapped pair of maroon socks in his hands.

"Dunno…" was Harry short reply as he began ripped the parcel open and gasped as a magnificent, gleaming broomstick rolled out onto his bedspread. Ron dropped his socks and jumped off his bed for a closer look.

"I don't believe it…" Ron said hoarsely as he and Harry stared at the broom in shock.

It was a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom Harry had gone to see every day in Diagon Alley. Its handle glittered as he picked it up. He could feel it vibrating and let go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for him to mount it. His eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.

"Who sent it to you?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.

"Look and see if there's a card." Harry said, not daring to take his eyes off the broom.

Something was off, and his newfound sixth sense for feeling what couldn't be felt by normal people was telling him just that…

Ron ripped apart the Firebolt's wrappings before sighing in frustration, "Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you?"

"Well…" Harry said, feeling stunned by his friend's blunt statement even though he knew Ron didn't mean it that way, "I'm betting it wasn't the Dursleys."

"Yeah… Hey, I know! I bet it was Dumbledore!" Ron said, now walking around and around the Firebolt to take in every glorious inch of the magnificent broom, "He sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously…"

"That was my dad's, though." Harry said, "Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. He wouldn't spend hundreds of Galleons on me. He can't go giving students stuff like this-"

"That's why he wouldn't say it was from him!" Ron said as though he figured out some great mystery, "In case some git like Malfoy said it was favoritism. Hey, Harry!" Ron said with a great whoop of laughter, "That's it! Malfoy! Wait 'til he sees you on this! He'll be sick as a pig! This is an international standard broom, this is!"

"I can't believe this…" Harry muttered, running a hand along the Firebolt, while Ron sank onto Harry's bed, laughing his head off at the thought of Draco's face, "Who could have-"

"I know!" said Ron, controlling himself, "I know who it could've been! Professor Lupin!"

"What?" Harry said, now starting to laugh himself, "Lupin, Ron? Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new robes."

"Yeah, but he seems to like you." Ron said teasingly, "And he was away when your Nimbus got smashed, and he might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you-"

"What do you mean, he was away?" Harry asked, "He was ill when I was playing in t-that match."

"Well, he wasn't in the hospital wing." Ron pointed, "I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Snape, remember?"

Harry frowned, but not at Ron. He could feel something was wrong with the picture of Lupin, and this new little piece only made it one step closer to solving the puzzle.

"I can't see Lupin affording something like this…" Harry muttered.

"What're you two laughing about?"

Hermione had just come in, wearing her dressing gown and carrying Crookshanks, who was looking very grumpy, with a string of tinsel tied around his neck. Harry could only sigh as he knew the cat would be up all night swearing and cursing Hermione for "putting that ridiculous winter season wrapping on him!".

"Don't bring him in here!" Ron said, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of his bed and stowing him in his pajama pocket. But Hermione wasn't listening. She dropped Crookshanks onto Seamus's empty bed and stared, open-mouthed, at the Firebolt.

"Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?"

"No idea…" Harry said, "There wasn't a card or anything with it."

To Harry's not so great surprise, Hermione did not appear either excited or intrigued by the news. On the contrary, her face fell, and she bit her lip. Harry already knew along what lines the girl was thinking, and he'd already started formulating his own plans to counteract hers.

"What's the matter with you?" Ron asked as Hermione stared hard at the fresh new broom.

"I don't know…" Hermione said slowly, "But… it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?"

Ron sighed exasperatedly.

"It's the best broom there is, Hermione." Ron said.

"So it must've been really expensive…" Hermione said as Ron grew a smile.

"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together." Ron said happily.

"Well… who'd send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" Hermione asked as Harry narrowed his eyes at his friend.

"Who cares?" Ron said impatiently, "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"

"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" Hermione said shrilly as Harry and Ron looked at her.

"What d'you think Harry's going to do with it; sweep the floor?" Ron said with a frown, clearly piecing together Hermione's thoughts and mood.

But before Hermione could answer, Crookshanks sprang from Seamus's bed, right at Ron's chest.

"Get… him… out of here!" Ron bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped his pajamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the end of Harry's bed, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling in pain as he clutched his foot.

Crookshanks's fur suddenly stood on end. A shrill, tinny, whistling was filling the room. The Pocket Sneakoscope had become dislodged from Uncle Vernon's old socks and was whirling and gleaming on the floor.

"I forgot about that!" Harry said, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope, "I never wear those socks if I can help it…"

The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm as Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it, sending subtle nods toward where Ron was. Harry shrugged it off though, figuring that the device was broken.

"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione." Ron said furiously, sitting on Harry's bed nursing his toe, "Can't you shut that thing up?" Ron added to Harry as Hermione strode out of the room, Crookshanks's yellow eyes still fixed maliciously on Ron's rat.

Harry stuffed the Sneakoscope back inside the socks and threw it back into his trunk. All that could be heard now were Ron's stifled moans of pain and rage as Scabbers was huddled in Ron's hands. It had been a while since Harry had seen him out of Ron's pocket, and he was unpleasantly surprised to see that Scabbers, once so fat, was now very skinny; patches of fur seemed to have fallen out too.

"He's not looking too good, is he?" Harry said.

"It's stress!" Ron said fitfully, "He'd be fine if that big stupid furball left him alone!"

But Harry, remembering what the woman at the Magical Menagerie had said about rats living only three years, couldn't help feeling that unless Scabbers had powers he had never revealed (like Crookshanks), he was reaching the end of his life. And despite Ron's frequent complaints that Scabbers was both boring and useless, he was sure Ron would be very miserable if Scabbers died. In fact…

"Hey, didn't you say that your brothers had him before you?" Harry asked as Ron gave him an odd look.

"Yeah…" Ron said slowly.

"And for how long?" Harry asked.

"About eleven years. Why…?" Ron said as he gave Harry a suspicious look.

"Well… aren't rats only supposed to live for three? I mean, Scabbers there must have some power that we don't know about to live so long." Harry said as Crookshanks hissed again, almost in warning while Ron smiled a bit as he held up the rat.

"Yeah… I guess you're right…"

Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning. Hermione had shut Crookshanks in her dormitory, but was furious with Ron for trying to kick him; Ron was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers. Harry gave up trying to make them talk to each other and devoted himself to examining the Firebolt, which he had brought down to the common room with him. For some reason this seemed to annoy Hermione as well; she didn't say anything, but she kept looking darkly at the broom as though it too had been criticizing her cat and worrying her half to death.


Hours before lunch, while both Ron and Hermione were stuck in the dormitories while they didn't want to be bothered with one another, Harry snuck out of the Gryffindor dorm, and made his way to the Seventh Floor. Halfway there, Soi Fon materialized a few steps behind him, falling into pace with ease.

"Are you feeling any better?" Soi Fon asked quietly as Harry frowned, but not for long as he sighed while raking a hand through his jet black hair.

"Yeah… I think I am. I mean, I'm sure you heard everything that's been going on. I want to make Black pay for what he did to my family, but…"

"All the pieces aren't adding up." Soi Fon said, moving a bit closer to him.

"Yeah. It's like it fits, but that just might be me wanting to blame someone for my not having parents. I mean, I could always blame Voldemort." Harry said as he continued on his way to the Seventh Floor.

"Yes, but when Sirius Black gave that Hagrid fellow the… what was it called, a motocycle?"

"Motorcycle, yes." Harry corrected as Soi Fon blushed lightly.

"Yes, well, when Sirius Black gave Hagrid-san… I mean, Mr. Hagrid the… thingy, it couldn't have been to get away, could it? It might be traceable, but if it were and the authortities had followed it to Hagrid, then what? And Black killing normal Humans and a Peter Pettigrew. It all just doesn't add up." Soi Fon said, a pensive frown adorning her youthful face.

"Maybe, but I there's always so much going on that it normally takes the entire school year just to get the last bit of info and solve the mystery." Harry said as Soi Fon moved even closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Then don't brand him a murder and traitor just yet. It's all, as you Englishmen would say, dodgy. We'll speak to Mayuri, and see if he can shine any light on this." Soi Fon said as Harry turned to her, noting only then that she and he were almost the same height with her being only a few centimeters taller.

"Thanks, Soi Fon." Harry said, hugging her as she tensed. Slowly, she relaxed into his embrace, hugging him back as she had never truly held a person like so. Lady Yoruichi had always been the one to care for her over the past twenty years, taking young Soi Fon into her arms and comforting her. Now it was her turn to comfort and be there to protect not only herself, but Lady Yoruichi and Harry too.


They both walked on, reaching the Seventh Floor as Soi Fon took out her sword, or Zanpakuto as they preferred Harry to call them. Soi Fon stabbed into the wall opposite the tapestry and turned her Zanpakuto like a key in a keyhole. The wall shimmered like disturbed pond water before transforming into a door that swung open slowly to allow them entrance.

"My, my, can't you two solve anything for your selves. Especially you." Mayuri said pointing at Harry, "Her I can understand, but you actually have a brain!"

"What was that, you deranged lookin' clown?" Soi Fon hissed as Mayuri seemed completely unfazed.

"You heard me, you shadow stalker." Mayuri said as Soi Fon got in the man's personal space.

"I didn't quite catch that, make-up boy." Soi Fon said as Mayuri waved her off.

"The only reason I wear this paint is to hide my own perfection. Unlike you, who could do with a little foundation." Mayuri said as Harry watched the two with wide eyes.

"I… You… Foundation… What…?" Soi Fon stammered before she regained herself, "You bastard! What perfection? Under that you're probably some walking monstrosity; just like you are with the make-up on."

"I don't have time to argue with morons such as you." Mayuri said, though Harry had gotten to know the man well enough to see that Soi Fon was getting to him.

"Oh I'm sure. Just admit it; you're ugly, with or without the make… up."

"It is not make-up!"

"Prove it then! Don't wear it for the next week. If you're so beautiful, that is. Oh, and make… up."

"Fine, dammit! No ma- paint for the next five days! I'll show you, you simpleton from those roguish ninja!"

"Umm… can we get-"

"What all this? Move aside." a gruff elderly voice commanded as both Soi Fon and Mayuri paled (it was harder for Harry to tell on Mayuri than Soi Fon). Their eyes were wide and their mouths agape as they slowly turned to see who was begin them. As soon as they did, the two leapt to one side and bowed formally to the man who now stood with a young boy behind him.

The man looked elderly, or at least of old age as he stood there before Harry. He had slate gray eyes, a gray mustache, and long gray hair. He wore what Harry had come to assume was the standard Captain uniform, which was a white Captain coat, though it had short sleeves, along with a white scarf. His hand were adorned with black fingerless gloves that cover the back of his hands and looped up to attach at the base of his fingers. He gave off the same air that Lucius Malfoy always did; one of superiority and nobility, yet unlike Lucius, it wasn't one of arrogance, but a far more kindly aristocratic feeling.

The boy, however, was a great difference. Harry could see some family resemblance between the two, yet they were so vastly different. The boy looked no older than Harry himself, though maybe a year or two younger. His eyes were the same slate grey as the man's, but they held a zeal for life and a zest for adventure unlike like the old man's which seemed to be growing dim with duty and long life. The boy's hair was black and full, held back in a high ponytail with a small red ribbon doing the tying. His clothes were also not like the old mans, or any of the Soul Reapers even. In fact, from what he was wearing Harry would guess that it was the Academy uniform for males as Shunsui had explained the Academy to him when they had talked about Shunsui's days in the Academy catching girls. The also seemed to smile warmly, as opposed to the old man who smiled through his eyes and seemed gruff about all things from his face.

"Captain Kuchiki! W-What are y-you doing here?" a random member asked as Soi Fon and Mayuri seemed to be asking the same through their posture.

"Hmm? Oh, right. I was sent as a replacement to young Captain Ukitake as he recovers from his illness. Him having no Lieutenant any longer and my needing to not only take a vacation, but also spend some time with my grandson here, makes taking up this mission as the perfect opportunity." the man, Captain Kuchiki said before he sighed, "Oops… seems I said too much."

"You're always saying too much, grandfather." the boy said behind his grandfather, giving the old man's back a deadpan look.

"Hmm? You say something, young Byakuya? Sorry, these old ears of mine must be acting up again." Captain Kuchiki asked nonchalantly as he dug a pink in his ear. The boy, Byakuya only sighed in exasperation as he shouldered a wooden sword that Harry hadn't noticed before.

"Hmm? Who's this one? I don't recognize him as a Division member from our Gotei 13." Captain Kuchiki said as he gazed upon Harry while Byakuya sighed once more.

"Remember what they warned us of, Grandfather. No Japanese in these parts, just plain English." Byakuya said as he shook his head, "But you're right. He doesn't look to be from the 13 Court Guard Squads."

"You caught me." Harry said, deciding that being open with them now would be much better, especially since they seemed like fine people, "I'm Harry Potter. I'm actually a student of the school you're currently in. It's a pleasure to me you." Harry said, outstretching his hand as Captain Kuchiki took it in a firm handshake.

"Hmm, a nice strong, firm grip. That's good. I'm Ginrei Kuchiki, Captain of the Sixth Division-"

"Squad, Grandfather. Squad 6." Byakuya corrected, but Ginrei pressed on ignoring him.

"-and the 27th Head of the Kuchiki family this is my darling granddaughter Byakuya." Captain Kuchiki said as Byakuya grew annoyed quickly, stamping his foot in anger.

"Dammit, old man! I'm a boy! Not a girl! Have you gone senile?" Byakuya yelled as Harry looked on in shock that someone of obvious noble descent could be so… odd, while Ginrei looked at Byakuya as though he hadn't caught a word.

"Huh? You say something, Byaku-chan. Sorry, these old ears of mine must be acting up again. Don't worry, we'll go get your dresses and sweets later." Ginrei said causally, nothing on his face giving anything away that he was joking. In fact, he said it so unchangingly, that Harry had to look back at Byakuya just to be sure the boy really was a boy.

"Now then, Bya-chan, introduce yourself to our new friend." Ginrei said, gesturing to Harry as Byakuya sighed tiredly before he looked up at Harry with a smile.

"Hello, I'm Byakuya Kuchiki. Unlike Grandfather, I haven't gained any titles yet, but I shall someday. I'm next in line to become the head of the Kuchiki family. It's a pleasure to meet you." Byakuya said pleasantly as he and Harry shook hands. In that instant, Byakuya's eyes widened.

"Your rei- I mean, spiritual energy and it's pressure… They're enormous…" Byakuya said in awe and a small undertone of fear that Harry caught.

"Hmm… That may be because he hangs around the likes of Captain Ukitake and Kyoraku. Now that I'm here, I do remember reading a brief report about you, Mr. Potter." Ginrei said as Harry looked at him.

"Please, call me Harry. I haven't done neither enough for someone like you to call me Mister anything." Harry said with a smile, remembering what Jushiro and Shunsui had told him about his self-doubt and such.

"Hmm… If you say so, kid." Ginrei said, placing his hands together in his sleeves like Shunsui had done when thinking positive things.

"I do believe you came here for a reason, Harry." Mayuri said, making his presence known as he got over his shock and awe that Captain Kuchiki had stepped onto the scene without them even knowing so.

"Oh yeah. I need you to check this broom to be sure it's safe. And please Mayuri, with care." Harry said, handing the Firebolt over to Mayuri with some difficulty as his hands just wouldn't let such an amazing broom go.

"Lucky for you, they imported the Anomaly Analyzer just this morning. I won't even have to put a straw out of place as the machine scans it and tells us if anything that shouldn't be there, is." Mayuri said, his voice oily as he fawned over his science and technology.


Harry waited with the others as he struck up a conversation with Ginrei, who insisted on being called such ("It's the way a noble extends great honor to those around him." "Grandfather, you hardly know him!" "… You say something, granddaughter?" "Ahh! You senile old fart!"), and Byakuya, who wanted to called such as well since his grandfather insisted on it. They talked about many things, even debated on some. Their topics ranged from nobility, tea ceremonies, calligraphy ("It's a great art, Harry! You'd like it!" "How is writing on giant paper fun…?"), and even pride.

"Pride?" Harry echoed as Ginrei nodded.

"Yes, young Harry. One must always have their pride. Without it, a man or woman just wouldn't be themselves." Ginrei said seriously as Harry raised a brow.

"But I thought pride was a sin, something that can lead to a person's downfall." Harry said as Ginrei nodded.

"Yes, if you allow it to control you. However, one's pride can take the form of many a things." Ginrei said, looking off at some of the ninja who were practicing and some of the normal unseated Soul Reaper who were training with swords.

"Huh?" was Harry's intelligent reply.

"Oh man, you're hopeless." Byakuya joked with a smile, "Grandfather means that a person's pride can be anything they wish to protect. I don't know how you Englishmen do things, but we of the Soul Society see our pride as something worth protecting. Like my pride is the Kuchiki family and it's name. Your pride is something you would give your life for. So tell me, Harry. What is your pride?" Byakuya said as Harry pondered the thought, but came to an answer in seconds.

"My friends. They're like family to me, and even though we have our… uh, rough patches, I'd still give my life for them. They're just about the only thing I have in this world." Harry said, adding the last part a bit more quietly as Ginrei and Byakuya raised their respective brows.

"Hmm…" Ginrei hummed as he watched Harry out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, if you want to protect them from that Voldemort guy you told us about, then you'll need to grow strong." Byakuya said as Harry sighed depressively.

"I can't even protect myself from some Dementors…" Harry said somberly as Byakuya gripped his shoulder.

"I'm sure you'll find the strength to stand up to anything, so long as you have your pride to protect." Byakuya said as he patted Harry's shoulder while Harry smiled shyly. Byakuya was so confident, so care-free. Harry wished that he could be like that. He was… at a time, but with the events of Hogwarts each year-

"It's done, Harry." Mayuri's voice came from over by his machines.

They all quickly moved to where Mayuri was, holding up Harry's new broom like a trophy.

"Probably because it proved his machine works in the castle…" Harry thought with a smirk as he stopped in front the scientist.

"So, what are the results, Doc?" Harry asked, remembering a television show he had seen.

"My machine works!" Mayuri exclaimed happily, then took in all the deadpan looks before he rolled his eyes and tossed Harry his broom uncaringly, "Oh, and there's nothing wrong with your broom."

"Thanks, Mayuri." Harry said as the man waved him off.

"Don't mention it. Seriously, don't mention it, to anyone. I don't need more Neanderthals coming to me for their problems." Mayuri said with a straight face.

"Sure, whatever you say, Mayuri." Harry said, all too happy that his broom wasn't cursed, hexed, or jinxed.

"Hmm…" Ginrei hummed in thought, glancing from Byakuya to Harry.

Oh, he had a plan!

"Excuse me, youngsters. All this excitement has worn me out. I think I'll retire to my quarters until lunch." Ginrei said and in a blur of motion, was gone with the only sound signaling the man's disappearance being a swooshing sound.

Wait… a swooshing sound…?

Harry shook his head, having no time to ponder the thought of the Soul Reaper high-seed thing in favor of fawning over his new un-harmful broom.

"So, what will you do now, Harry?" Byakuya asked as Harry shrugged. He didn't want to ride the broom around in the room. True, the room was as large as a full building, but Harry didn't want to accidentally hurt someone trying to show off.

"I guess I'll hang around here until lunch. Haven't got much else to do." Harry said with a shrug.

"That's cool. So, how do you feel about cherry blossoms…"


At lunchtime, Harry left the Seventh Floor and journeyed down to the Great Hall, but not before stopping in his dorm to put away his new Firebolt. He walked into the Great Hall, only to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only three other students, two extremely nervous-looking First Years and a sullen-faced Slytherin Fifth Year.

"Happy Christmas!" Dumbledore said as Harry, Ron, and Hermione (the latter two catching him as he had entered the common room and tagged along with him after many annoying questions) approached the table, "As there are so few of us here, it seemed foolish to use the House tables… Please, come and sit down!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down side by side toward the middle of one side of the table.

"Crackers!" Dumbledore said enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly (with both a sigh and roll of his eyes) before he tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witches hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

Harry, remembering the Boggart, caught Ron's eye and they both grinned while Snape's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.

"Dig in!" Dumbledore advised the table, beaming around.

Just as Harry was helping himself to roast potatoes, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honor of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.

"Sybil, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster." Professor Trelawney said in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "And, to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"

"Certainly, certainly!" Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling, "Let me draw you up a chair."

And he did indeed draw a chair in midair with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a soft thud between Professors Snape and McGonagall as the table stretched itself to make them all comfortable. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sybil." Professor McGonagall said impatiently, "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

Professor Trelawney hesitated, however, before she lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

"Tripe, Sybil?" McGonagall asked as Harry gave a small chuckle at the double-meaning word-play of his sharp-witted Professor. Professor Trelawney, however, ignored the jab as her eyes opened again while she looked around once more.

"But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again." Dumbledore said, gesturing that everybody should start serving themselves, "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

"But surely you already knew that, Sybil?" Professor McGonagall said, her eyebrows raised as Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look that Harry did not think the dramatic woman capable of until then.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva." Trelawney said quietly, "But one does not parade around the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal." Professor McGonagall said tartly as some of the others at the table (mainly Harry, Flitwick, and Snape) smirked and chuckled at the barb.

Snape, however, stopped his amusement as a frown suddenly appeared when he glanced at Trelawney for her counter.

"Something wrong, Snape?" Harry asked as Snape glanced his way, frown deepening. But Snape, as though it were wise, glanced up at the Headmaster, seeing the old wizard watching them all from the head of the table.

"No, Potter, but things are about to spoil. I hate that." Snape said shortly as Harry was taken back, not having expected a civil reply.

"Oh, how so? I dare say they wouldn't have a row here. Just some light word-play, I suspect." Harry said, adopting the more mature and cultured self that he and his friends mocked each other with whenever they were bored.

"Yes, that would be the case… However, you don't know how badly these two despise each other." Snape said, a ghost of a smirk on his face, "It's always rather amusing. Right up until this part."

"And what part would that-"

Harry didn't get to finish as Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty with her returning barb.

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him."

"Imagine that…" Professor McGonagall said dryly, looking almost bored as she gazed into a glass of wine.

"And here comes Dumbledore…" Snape said, and if on cue the Headmaster raised his head a bit as he spoke.

"I doubt…" Dumbledore said, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster." Snape said.

"Good." Dumbledore said, "Then he should be up and about in no time… Derek, have you had any of the chipolatas? They're excellent!"

The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.

Professor Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their cracker hats, Harry and Ron got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly.

"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"

"Dunno…" Ron said, looking uneasily at Harry. Harry shrugged as he glanced at Snape, who was smiling beside himself.

"Probably thinking I'm gonna die from some crazy axe-wielding manic." Harry thought as Professor McGonagall scoffed.

"I doubt it will make much difference, Sybil." Professor McGonagall said coldly, "You know… unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."

"Yeah… She's probably had a few." Harry said uneasily as he blinked a few times. Even Snape chuckled at both jokes while Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted, but McGonagall didn't even seem to notice the jab at her intake.

"Coming?" Harry said to Hermione.

"No…" Hermione muttered, "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."

Harry narrowed his eyes as Ron shrugged her off.

"She's probably trying to see if she can take any more classes. Merlin knows the hundred she has already isn't keeping to her pace." Ron said with a yawn as he and Harry made their way into the Entrance Hall, which was completely devoid of crazy axe-wielding madmen.


When they reached the portrait hole they found Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas part with a couple of monks, several previous headmasters of Hogwarts and his fat pony. He pushed up his visor toasted them with a flagon of mead.

"Happy — hic — Christmas! P-Password?"

"Scurvy cur." Ron said with a roll of his eyes.

"And the same to you, sir!" Sir Cadogan roared drunkenly, as the painting swung forward to admit them.

Harry went straight up to the dormitory, collected his Firebolt and the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had given him for his birthday, brought them downstairs and tried to find something to do with the Firebolt; however, there where no bent twigs to clip, and the handle was so shiny already it seemed pointless to polish it. He and Ron simply sat admiring it from every angle, until the portrait hole opened, and Hermione came in…

… accompanied by Professor McGonagall.

"Dammit, I knew it!" Harry said, but no one seemed to notice as all eyes were on McGonagall, and McGonagall now sober gaze was on his new broom.

Though Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, Harry had only seen her in the common room once before, and that had been to make a very grave announcement. He and Ron stared at her, both holding the Firebolt. Both knew what this was as Hermione walked around them, avoiding their gaze as best she could while she sat down and picked up the nearest book before burying her nose in it.

"So that's it, is it?" Professor McGonagall said beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt, "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."

Harry and Ron looked around at Hermione, glaring as they saw the top of her forehead reddening over the top of her book, which was upside-down.

"I've had it checked before lunch, Professor. It's safe." Harry said as Professor McGonagall glanced at him, but then locked in on the broomstick with even more of a critical gaze. Harry sighed, figuring that she probably thought he was lying to save his broom.

"May I?" Professor McGonagall said, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their unaware hands. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends, "Hmm… And there was no note at all, Mr. Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"

"No." Harry said blankly.

"I see…" Professor McGonagall said, "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."

Harry said nothing as he crossed his arms and raised a brow at her. From being around the likes of Mayuri Kurotsuchi, Hachi, and Soi Fon, he had learned that questioning authority hysterically or in shock was basically useless. He needed to keep his wits about him. Ron, however, didn't receive the same lessons as he scrambled to his feet.

"W-What?" Ron said, on his feet and looking like he was about to lose his best friend, "Why?"

"It will need to be checked for jinxes." Professor McGonagall said as she raised a brow at Harry's calm demeanor, "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down-"

"Strip it down?" Harry and Ron repeated as though Professor McGonagall had gone mad.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks." McGonagall said, "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" Harry said, his voice calm even though it was shaking slightly at the thought of anyone stripping his broom down, "Honestly, Professor-"

"You can't know that, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall said quite kindly, "Not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.

"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"

Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.

"Because I thought, and Professor McGonagall agrees with me, that the broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"

No words came from them all as the silence dominated the room.

And then-

"How the hell is a supposed murder going to walk into a shop and buy a damn broom!" Harry exploded, Hermione and even Ron looking stricken as they both back away from him.

Even though he had expected it, even though he thought up a counter for it, even though he had the time to hide the broom, he still couldn't keep his anger from getting to him. The most expensive present he had ever gotten, something that showed him that someone around had cared, something that made him feel special for all of the six hours he had it. Taken! To be stripped down like a defective car!

Harry's anger was nearly palpable as his body shook with rage. The air around him and all throughout the common room became heavy and thick, as though they were in a humid jungle. Hermione tried to get some air by pulling her collar away from her, but the air still wasn't much. Ron too was finding hard to breathe as he choked and coughed a bit. A faint black light wafted off of Harry with a green outline as he let his rage pour out of his every pore. He couldn't believe it! His broom, which he had checked in the first place was still gone!

Harry focused all his fury on Hermione, the full weight of his anger crashing down on the girl's shoulders while Ron relished in the ability to breathe again. Hermione's legs gave way as she sank to her knees. It was like the weight of the deep sea was slowly being placed upon her shoulders.

"W-What… is… t-this?" Hermione cried out mentally as she found her body not reacting to her mental cries to run away, to get up and flee.

"H-Harry!" came a voice from behind Harry as he felt someone's hand clasp his shoulder.

Harry looked back, only to see the strained face of Soi Fon looking back at him, sweat dripping from her face and her legs shakily keeping her up, "P-Please, s-stop."

Then, just like that, his rage was gone. He looked around, seeing that Ron was stretched out on the couch, sweating and gasping for air. Harry looked over Hermione, only to see her on the floor in the fetal position as her body looked pale. She was gasping for breath, as though someone had held her underwater for ages. Her entire frame shook every now and then as Harry gazed down at her with shock and horror etched into his features.

"D-Did I… Did I do this…?" Harry asked, dropping to his knees as he held his barely conscious friend in his lap.

"Yes, you did." Soi Fon said, taking in slightly deeper breathes.

"I… She… My broom… Oh dear Merlin, I'm sorry…" Harry said as he clutched his friend.

"D-Don't… Don't worry about them. They'll be fine, the farther away you are from them as of now." Soi Fon said, taking in one last deep breath before straightening up.

"I… No, you're right. I'm going." Harry said, laying Hermione on a couch as she finally lost consciousness. He straightened up, taking in a deep breath as he tried to push down his emotions; mainly his anger.