"There's a time for daring and there's a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for." - Dead Poets Society

Harry pushed the book back into the slot on the shelves that he'd taken it from, then made his way back to the table he'd been reading at with Hermione and Ron. Unsurprisingly, the two were arguing. Hermione huffed, turning away from Ron as he approached. "Sorry, Harry, what?" she asked.

"I didn't say anything."

"Oh. Well, what were you looking for?"

"Information on patronuses," he said. "Professor Lupin said they're the way to drive off dementors."

Hermione nodded, then glanced around. No one was near them, but she still lowered her voice. "You got a letter from-" She broke her words off. "Let's go visit Hagrid and see if there's an update on the situation with Buckbeak." Her words were a bit too loud.

Once they were past the walls and walking towards the hut, she picked back up where she'd left off. "Your dad sent a letter this morning, didn't he? What'd he say?"

"He's furious that Black managed to get in and they don't even know how." He bit his lip. "I think, if he didn't know how badly I wanted to be here, he'd try to bring me back to America."

"Anything else?" Ron asked.

"I mentioned to him that Snape told Dumbledore that night that he thinks there's some traitor in the castle. They're looking into it, but I doubt there's a lot they can do. They can't access the right information to properly check that out." He paused. "I also told him that I'm being stalked by Wood and all our professors, so he doesn't need to be worried about that."

Hermione grimaced, glancing around. "Best not mention that we're outside like this," she said. "He probably wouldn't be happy to hear that."

Ron knocked on the door when they got there, but no one answered. The three exchanged frowns.

"I don't hear anything inside," Ron said. "I don't think he's here."

Hermione suddenly perked up. "Wait, I hear him around back."

Now that she mentioned it, there were definitely voices that were coming their way. They left the front door and walked along the side of the garden until they'd rounded one of the stone corners and saw a pair coming towards them, Hagrid easily recognizable by his sheer size and another man who appeared as a dwarf in comparison. Harry fought back a grin, eyes lighting up as the man's features came into view.

Hagrid waved at them enthusiastically, picking up the pace to reach them quicker. "What are you three doing out-" He started, then suddenly stopped. His expression darkened like thunder clouds had swept across it. "What are you doing out here with Sirius Black on the loose?!"

"Er," Ron explain to him intelligently and coherently.

Hagrid huffed in frustration. "Well, now that you're out here, I reckon you better stay close until I walk you back up." The other man, who had calmly continued walking closer, now came to a halt beside him. "Sorry, Mr. Blackwolf. These three are some students o' mine."

"We came to check on you, see if there was an update on Buckbeak," Hermione said. "Malfoy was bragging about getting his father involved in the whole matter and, well...we know how much influence he has..."

Unexpectedly, Hagrid's face brightened. "Matter's all sorted now! Yer just in time!" He reached out and patted Blackwolf on the shoulder. Someone smaller would probably have been knocked flat on their face. "Mr. Blackwolf 'ere's taking 'im!"

Harry grinned. That didn't come as a surprise, not after everything he'd been hearing about Blackwolf's interest in hippogriffs. "Really?"

"Sorry, getting ahead o' meself. This is Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. This is John Blackwolf, from America."

"A pleasure to meet you," Hermione said. Ron nodded.

"We just grabbed some dead ferrets an' were about to head to the paddock. Since yer here already, do you want to come with us?" The trio nodded, and Hagrid waved for them to follow them.

Hagrid spent most of the walk talking about the hippogriffs, but once they reached the paddock, he went into the area to feed them and left the other four on their own. Blackwolf turned his head away from Hagrid, back towards the other three.

"You've been to the Three Broomsticks, haven't you?" Blackwolf asked.

Harry blinked, surprised. "No."

Blackwolf frowned. "I thought most students went there during Hogsmeade weekends."

He shuffled awkwardly. "We need a guardian's signature on a permission slip for that."

Blackwolf nodded in understanding, and he glanced towards the other two. "What about you?" Both of them nodded, still bewildered. "Think you could get there on a day that's not a Hogsmeade weekend?"

Harry's mind flashed to the invisibility cloak. "Yes." Hermione winced at the blatant scheme to break school rules but didn't say anything.

"He wants to come talk to you about Black," Blackwolf said. He didn't have to specify who the 'he' was. "November twentieth."

"That's not going to work," Ron said immediately, before Harry could. "We've got a Quidditch match."

Blackwolf had a look on his face that was well-practiced in dealing with students. Harry remembered his father mentioning that the Apache sometimes taught at the local school. As well as worked as the police chief. And ran a part of the wizarding government. And helped the Hotchners get settled into magical society. Talk about time management. "Then no one will notice him missing," Blackwolf said diplomatically.

"I should think they would," Ron replied. "He's the Gryffindor Seeker."

Blackwolf paused. "The thirteenth, then. I would rather do this sooner than later."

"The dementors won't stop us, will they?" Hermione asked. "I know the school told the dementors to overlook us during Hogsmeade weekends, but I don't think they'll be too eager to make an exception this time."

"We'll use a patronus charm," Blackwolf said.

The next letter Harry got detailed what to do. It was simple enough, and if everything went well and they had some luck, they didn't think they'd run into any trouble.

"Harry won't," Hermione corrected on the day before the meeting, eyeing Ron meaningfully. "It's less likely that one person will get caught than three."

"Fine," Ron grumbled.

"Aw, are the wee ones up to some mischief?"

Ron groaned and buried his face in his hands at the voice. On either side of him, the twins circled the couch and sat down, looping their arms over his neck. "We're so proud of you," George said.

"Completely."

"Utterly."

Fred glanced at Harry, grinning. "Sneaking around, it sounds like?"

Hermione looked exasperated, but Harry sighed, resigned. "Please don't mention it to anyone."

George put a plaintive hand to his chest. "Us? Rat someone out to a teacher? Harry, you should know better. Where you off to?"

"Why should we tell you?" Ron snapped.

"Because, Ronnie dearest, do you really think the best pranksters in the school don't know some ways around the castle you don't? Ways that might keep a teacher or two from seeing him, if we know where you're going?"

Harry paused. There were some others in the common room with them, but no one close enough to hear over the sounds of their own conversation. Even Hermione looked speculative at the twins' idea. "I can't go to Honeydukes because I didn't get my slip signed by the Dursleys," he said, and for a flicker of a moment he thought he saw the twins' expressions darken at the mention of the people they had stolen him away from in a borrowed car. "I was going to see if I could slip out on a day like this, when the professors won't think to be looking for me."

The twins looked at each other. "No one's in our dorm right now," George said.

A minute later found all of them in the boys' dorm, which Hermione bravely faced despite her repulsion. Fred rooted around in his trunk for a moment before hurrying back over to them with blank parchment.

"Now, we don't give this to you lightly-" he began.

"-and if you lose it or get it taken by a teacher, you'll shame everything we stand for," George said. "But you need this."

"I've got some parchment," Harry said, puzzled.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Fred said pompously.

"Oh, well, we all know that," Hermione said, and then gasped as words started to appear on the page. Fred grinned at her reaction.

"A map of the school, showing where everyone is," George said. "As up to date as it can be, showing all the nifty little secret passages to enjoy, whether it's for hiding from teachers or ex-girlfriends or hurrying to class you're twenty minutes late for."

"Though if you're that late, you really should just skip," Fred commented, ignoring Hermione's glare.

"Now, there are a lot of passages you can take," George said as he opened up the map, "but to get to Honeydukes, you should probably use this one, by the statue of the one-eyed witch. The map's nice enough to give you passwords to secret passages you might find, by the way, so look out for those."

"This is brilliant," Harry whispered, looking over it. "Wait, you said the passage goes straight to Honeydukes?"

"Yeah. What, were you planning on just walking across the grounds?" Fred scoffed and Harry nodded. "Rubbish. This is much better."

"I doubt you'll get caught this way," Ron pointed out.

"You're forgetting something. What about on the other side?" Hermione interrupted.

Fred waved it off. "They know us. We've been sneaking over there for years, buying products and bringing it back into the school to sell for them." Hermione gave them a disparaging look.

"Now come on, Hermione," Ron said, "you can't tell on them without getting Harry into trouble too."

She huffed.

Between this and the cloak, getting to Hogsmeade had just become easier than getting a passing score on Trelawney's homework when all he had to do was foresee his own death.

The passage was cool when he slipped through it, from the chill of the air outside, but he definitely needed the cloak he'd brought along when he got out of Honeyduke's and into the street. The invisibility cloak, over his normal cloak, provided little against the frosty air, and he pulled the second one tighter around him before hurrying down the street to get to the edge of the village closest to Hogwarts.

Waiting for him there was Blackwolf, facing the grounds and clearly waiting to see a figure coming his way. Instead, Harry slipped up beside him, intending to move quietly. Before he had gotten within a couple of meters, though, Blackwolf turned and frowned in his direction. "Yes?"

Harry blinked, startled, then pulled the hood down of the invisibility cloak. "How'd you know I was here?"

Blackwolf smirked in reply, then waved at the cloak. "Where did you get that from?"

"James Potter left it to me."

"Interesting. Hotch said you had something like that. Put the hood up and follow me."

Blackwolf led him back the way he had just come until they reached the Three Broomsticks inn. It was open, but Harry suspected it was much quieter than it would have been on a normal Hogsmeade weekend because no other students were there. Blackwolf made sure to push the door open a little harder than necessary so Harry could slip in behind him, and he walked towards the back and up a flight of stairs to a room he must have booked to give them some privacy.

Harry took off the cloak once he entered, tossed it and the regular cloak over the back of a chair, then stepped forward a few steps to meet his father halfway. The hug he was swept up in sent a wave of nostalgia over him, and he closed his eyes as he leaned into it. A soft exhale ruffled his hair and he tightened his hold.

After a moment, both stepped back, and Hotch glanced him over. "You grew an inch," he said, surprised. "At least."

Harry shrugged, grinning. "Probably all the sugar from the feasts."

"I don't think that's the direction sugar makes you grow," Blackwolf pointed out.

"How've you been?" Hotch asked.

"Less concerned than I should be," Harry admitted. "At least I know what's going on this year, unlike last time and the time before that."

Blackwolf frowned at the reminder. "I still want to know how he got onto the school grounds, let alone into the school. I looked at the wards while I was there, and I don't understand how he could have managed to get in."

"Do the wards only reach to a certain height? Could he have flown in with a broom or something similar?" Hotch asked.

Blackwolf shook his head. "I checked. The wards completely cover the air. Furthermore, there are anti-Apparation wards installed. He couldn't have come in that way, and he could only have used a portkey if he had gotten a hold of one issued by the headmaster. That takes out five of the six directions he could have come from and directly appearing in the castle."

"What would be the sixth?" Harry asked.

"Underground, but there aren't tunnels under Hogwarts. I asked Hagrid about that when I asked if the hippogriffs were eating any moles."

Harry paused. "Well, there's one tunnel network under the school itself, but I don't think it connects outside, although..." He stopped again. "Maybe it does. I suppose it would have to empty somewhere." He frowned to himself. "But Riddle would have had to have told him about it, and he'd have to be a parselmouth to enter."

"Why is there a tunnel network under the school?" Hotch asked both of them.

"Sewage, I think," Harry replied. "At least, that's what it seemed to connect to when I was down there. He built part of it as the Chamber of Secrets. If it emptied anywhere, it'd be into the lake, though, and it would make much more sense to use a tunnel-" He groaned. "To use a tunnel a lot like the one I just used." Without the two saying anything, he quickly explained the map he'd just been given and the paths that the Weasley twins had described.

"So we've got seven possible routes he could have taken," Hotch murmured. "Assuming he knows about all of them."

"One caved in, so that knocks it down to six," Harry said. "Filch knows about another four, so they probably checked those when they were looking to see how he got in."

"The route you took would have required him to walk into the middle of Hogsmeade," Blackwolf pointed out. "The final route, on the other hand, starts at the Shrieking Shack."

"Can we go investigate?" Hotch asked, and Harry could have sworn the look Blackwolf gave his father was one of amused exasperation at a stereotypical response.

"We could, except the Shack is one of the most haunted locations in Britain. Most of the people who enter there have died. Usually I would discredit such dramatic rumors, but numerous credible sources reported tragic accidents. Considering many spiritual elements can't be seen by someone without magic, I think we'd stand a rather high chance of getting you killed if you went in. Going in alone would probably be suicide."

"Then why would Black do it?" Hotch asked.

"He's probably not staying there for longer than a couple of minutes to get to the tunnel," Blackwolf said. "We'll keep an eye on the place, in case he uses this route again to get into the school."

"At least we know how he got in, then. Or highly suspect, at the least," Harry said, relieved.

"Who else knows about these passages?" Hotch asked.

"Just the Weasley twins, Ron, Hermione, and whoever these four people are," he said, pointing at the names at the top of the parchment. "But there have been thousands of people at Hogwarts, and some of them must have also found a couple of these passages."

They talked for a little longer, and then Blackwolf left when it was obvious that there was nothing more they could learn that day. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, tucking away the map, and Hotch grabbed a chair.

"Are you really feeling okay?" Hotch asked. "This can't be easy on you."

Harry shrugged. "It's fine. It's better than last year because you're actually telling me what you know instead of leaving me in the dark."

"The use of the letters is throwing me off," Hotch admitted. "I'm used to faster response times."

"I'm not used to getting responses from home," Harry added with a small laugh, belatedly realizing the dark humor probably wouldn't be so funny to Hotch. There wasn't a verbal response, but Hotch reached up with one hand and rubbed the back of his shoulder and neck.

"Blackwolf mentioned you've got a game next week," Hotch said, completely changing the topic.

Harry nodded. "Oliver really wants a win this year. He thinks we're the best team Gryffindor's had in years but the last two tournaments have been cancelled. He might kill us during practices this year, but at least we'll win the cup."

An hour later, Blackwolf came back into the room and said that Harry needed to return to the school. It was harder than he expected it would be to leave at the end, but he had to head back before dinner or someone would miss him. Hotch gave him another hug and reluctantly let him leave with Blackwolf.

The older wizard walked beside Harry to Honeyduke's as a precaution, even though he was under the cloak. "Hey, what's the incantation to the patronus charm?" Harry asked while they were walking.

Blackwolf glanced at him, then redirected their path until they were on the outskirts of the village. "Expecto patronum," he told him. "Are you planning another encounter with them?"

"Well, I didn't plan the first one."

"Fair enough." He glanced back in the direction they had come and, seeing no one, turned to Harry. "We have a couple of minutes. Try it now, and then you can practice on your own."

Harry nodded. "Expecto patronum, right?" Blackwolf nodded and he pulled out his wand. "Expecto patronum!" Nothing happened. "Expecto patronum!"

"Strong, good memory."

Harry opened his mouth, then paused. "Does the memory have to be good, or the feeling's we associate with it?"

"Just the feeling."

He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back to the feeling of the stairs digging into his back and hip after he'd fallen trying to protect Sean and Jack from his grandfather, and the shock of seeing his father standing there, so aggressively furious. You dared touch him, his expression had said, in a defensive gesture Harry had never expected to see applied on his behalf. He brought back that warm glow in his chest that had bloomed when he'd understood just why Hotch had been so angry at his father – because he'd gone after not only Jack, but Harry, and made him upset.

"Expecto patronum!"

A stag burst out of the end of Harry's wand, coming to stand in front of him and Blackwolf. It tilted its head up at the sky, antlers shifting to point backwards at the pair as it did so, and its small tail flicked aside some imaginary fly.

Beside Blackwolf, Harry grinned, then turned to look at him. He knew he was openly staring, but he could hardly contain his surprise. He'd never seen someone take to the spell as easily as that, let alone a thirteen-year-old.

"What?" Harry asked, smile fading along with his patronus.

"That was...quick," he managed.

"I usually get spells fast," Harry said.

Blackwolf eyed him oddly. "Try it again." Harry nodded. It appeared easier the second time, but Blackwolf told him to concentrate and hold it while he looked at the herbivore. The form was going to change. The mist wasn't solidying around the edges, though the stag was completely corporeal. This was probably the shape it had taken when Harry had been raised in the Potter's image, but the new form would reflect his Hotchner identity.

Harry looked at the stag with him for a moment. "Why were you so surprised I got it so fast?"

"I've known talented adults who took weeks to get it down," Blackwolf said bluntly. "Not only that, but I hadn't expected your core to be developed enough to produce a patronus like this, or sustain it like you're doing now."

"So... What does this mean?"

Telling Harry this was the mark of incredible power later in his life would probably not be the best way to make him feel like a normal teenager who didn't have to shoulder every burden he could. The kid already had enough to worry about, and besides, he didn't know that for sure. Despite that, it wouldn't be a bad idea to tell Harry what he did know.

"Sometimes, people born to magical parents have stronger magic. It could be something else, but I don't know enough to say what. Let's head back to the castle."

"Wait," Harry said abruptly, and then, looking like he was surprising himself, "You're the only person in the wizarding world who's always given me straight answers, if you could. I wouldn't bring this up, except two other teachers now have commented on it, and they weren't dismissive like I expected. On my first day of class in Divinations-"

"I heard about Trelawney's predictions," Blackwolf interrupted. "You want to know what I think."

Harry nodded. "I know my father doesn't think it's real, but..."

"Your father would rather hope fate doesn't exist." Rather foolishly, Blackwolf thought, but there was little reason why Hotchner would believe in that sort of thing. "It would mean we are all locked in a certain path, and if Trelawney's prediction of yours was accurate, that would strongly hint at your approaching death."

"McGonagall and Lupin weren't worried about the Grim," Harry pointed out. "They both thought the leopard was strange."

Ah, the leopard. The puzzle that had been on Blackwolf's mind since it had first shown up. He shook his head. "I would want to see the leopard in your tea leaves myself before I decide anything. But I will say this – the leopard as a sign does not necessarily mean that you will be killed from it. The tribes in the western central part of Africa who first used it said that a leopard-spirit was powerful enough to appear in the tea leaves whether the human container of that spirit would harm or help the tea drinker. You may only meet a leopard-spirit."

"You think it's real."

"As I said, I would prefer to read your tea leaves myself. I don't trust someone else's word on a matter like this. But, assuming there really was a leopard, you should keep that in mind."

"What about the Grim, then, or the dragon?"

If she saw the Grim, Harry didn't have long. A year at most.

"I would definitely want to see that tea cup," Blackwolf said. "The Grim can appear in leaves long before it appears in life, and the dragon is easily mistakenly read. The combination of the two is unlikely, as it would mean you would achieve enormous change in your world and then die within a couple of years. I don't think she saw both of them. Of the two, I think the Grim is less likely."

Especially considering the power he just saw.

Harry nodded, and this time he let Blackwolf walk him back to Honeyduke's. Blackwolf returned to the Three Broomsticks, made up his mind to solve this once and for all, and ordered a tray of tea from the counter. He carried it up the stairs and into the room he'd rented, then set it on a table.

Unsurprisingly, Hotchner immediately picked up on his intentions. "You are not honestly planning on reading my tea leaves, are you?" he asked skeptically.

The tea leaves were practically a personal insult. Hotch and the rest of his team had spent years of training to predict the behavior and future actions of the criminals they hunted, while a group of witches and wizards claimed they could do the same thing by looking at scraps at the bottom of a cup after someone had drained the liquid from it. One option was methodical and soundly based in logic and science – the other was vague and often lacked any illustrious information, allowing personal interpretation to make the predicted event come true almost every time.

Still. "Tea leaves are useless for discerning the exact circumstances of your future." He passed a cup to Hotch. "But enormous events, like those predicted by your son's cup, are not to be ignored."

"Then read his," Hotch said irritably.

Blackwolf picked up his own cup and met the agent's gaze firmly. "Within a couple of months, you and your son have grown remarkably close. Furthermore, you have ingratiated yourself in the magical events of his life. If the Grim, leopard, and dragon all truly appeared in his cup, the latter two should theoretically appear in yours, along with a sign of tragedy and grief."

The lie slipped right past Hotch. Blackwolf knew better than to think he would ever manage it again.

Hotch drank the tea.

Blackwolf stared at the contents, setting his own cup aside slowly. An upcoming enemy, from the falcon. That wasn't a surprise, considering his profession. Trouble, from the poison ivy. Again, not shocking news. A curious discovery, from the monkey. Hopefully that would solve some of the mysteries surrounding his son's situation. A journey, from the star. That was one of the vaguest signs, since the journey didn't necessarily have to be a physical one.

"Your future's going to be rough, but no one close to you is going to die and there are no leopards or dragons."

"Are you really sure those things work?" Hotch asked doubtfully.

"They work reasonably well, with the proper analysis, but like I said, they're too vague to be of any real use. You won't be out of a job anytime soon."

"Harry, switch with me," Katie whispered beside him before they were about to go out onto the Quidditch pitch.

Harry blinked at her. "What, right here?"

"No, I'll play Seeker and you be a Chaser. I can't ogle Diggory while I'm occupied with the Quaffle." Angeline sniggered behind her, but Oliver gave them all a look and she stifled the sound as best as she could.

"We'll knock him out for you, and then you can go to the infirmary wing and visit him, where he can't get away from you," Fred said, and Harry thought that Oliver might just turn around and strangle him.

"If Hufflepuff wins because you're all too busy checking out their Seeker..." Oliver threatened through gritted teeth. Harry was a bit surprised that he'd actually managed to hear them over the sound of the thunderstorm outside.

"If they're all standing around in midair in front of the goals, at least Hufflepuff won't be able to score," Harry pointed out, and then Madame Hooch called for them to walk onto the pitch.

When she asked for a fair fight, no one argued. Harry didn't think the Hufflepuffs could cheat if they tried, and Oliver would have murdered any of them who thought they had to do anything underhanded to beat Hufflepuff. Besides, with this weather, it was going to be a task just to stay on their brooms. As soon as they took off into the air, Harry lost sight of everyone. Vague shadows moved below him, but he couldn't tell if they were bursts of rain or students, and he quickly gave up trying to see what was going on.

He did a lap around the pitch, trying to find weather patterns to see if there were any spots that were keeping back the wind and rain, but it was all just as terrible. The wind threw itself at him suddenly, and he veered off path, careening out of the pitch and over the stands. Thankfully, no one was sitting on the top levels, probably worried they could be pushed off by the wind.

There was, however, a large, mangy, startled dog that Harry nearly knocked over with his broom.

He got control of his broom and forced it back towards the pitch, giving up his search for the snitch for a moment and scanning frantically for the dog. He knew he'd seen it, but now he couldn't tell where it had gone off to. With a grimace, he moved away from the stands and back into the center of the pitch.

An hour had passed when a lightning bolt streaked out of the sky, briefly illuminating the pitch in a blinding flash of light. Before the black spots obscured Harry's vision, he saw it strike the tail end of a broom. He blinked rapidly, and when the spots started to clear he saw a small fire below him as the student plummeted towards the ground. He leaned over his broom, sending it in that direction, but by the time he was close enough to help two of the Hufflepuff student's teammates had already arrived.

When he looked back up, he saw a flash of yellow sprinting overhead, and he swore and pushed his own broom up after Diggory's. By the time he got there, though, the other Seeker had definitely lost sight of the snitch, and Harry came to rest beside him.

"What's the score?" Diggory shouted at him, practically right in his ear, and Harry was just able to make him out.

"I don't know! I couldn't make out who went down, but it looked like one of your beaters."

"What?"

Diggory couldn't hear him in this weather. "Nevermind!" A yellow ball darted off in the corner of his vision and he whipped his broom around, hunching low over the wood both to pick up speed and to avoid being swept off. Diggory moved after him immediately, but frankly, Harry was more than willing to risk a race if it meant they could get out of this weather faster.

The snitch took them further up into the air, past the point when Harry thought it usually stopped. The wind was beating all three of them back, but the snitch was able to keep just enough of an edge to stay out of reach. His fingers, bitterly cold, were latched tightly on the broom to hold on, but he prepared for the laborious task of peeling one of them off to grab the snitch.

"Just catch the damn thing!" Diggory bellowed, head at the level of Harry's waist. Then he shouted in shock, and Harry looked up.

A swarm of dementors circled overhead, descending towards them just as they were following the snitch up.

The hand Harry had just unlocked from his broom shot to his pocket instead of towards the golden ball, snatching his wand from his pocket. Hotch's simple words after he'd told Harry that he belonged there, that he was a Hotchner too - "Welcome home" -

"Expecto patronum!"

The stag charged upward, faster than either broom or snitch, and the nearest dementors immediately recoiled. In a fit of desperation, Harry lunged out with his other hand, practically falling off the broom, and felt his fingers catch on a frantically beating wing. Above him, as he lost concentration, the patronus faded.

Harry pulled his broom up sharply, doing a complete one-eighty. Below him, Diggory had done the sane thing and ground to a halt when he'd seen the dementors, but now he was just staring up. Harry put on speed, shooting down, and he grabbed onto Diggory's broom as he passed and dragged the other student along with him. It shocked Diggory out of his reverie and he hurriedly flew beside him, both pelting towards the ground with everything they had.

"Do that again!" Diggory shouted at him, jerking at the dementors with his head. "They're right behind us!"

Harry grimaced but pointed his wand behind him. "Expecto patronum!" The stag appeared again, but within a couple of moments, he felt so drained that black spots were coming in at the corner of his vision and the patronus faded. The dementors were only repelled long enough to give them a slight lead.

The two pushed headlong to the ground, aided by the roaring wind and gravity, as the hoard followed them. Harry was working mostly on autopilot as he felt consciousness starting to slip from him, and the chill that was creeping into his bones wasn't just from the horrid weather. The snitch fluttered weakly in his hand, which was pressing it to the wood of his broom in a grip that was made less of strong muscle and more of cramped muscle. One of the towers of the Quidditch pitch flashed beside him, and Diggory started to slow slightly. There was a light, but Harry couldn't see where it was coming from, and then everything went black.

"Wood! This is neither the time nor the place!"

"I just want to know how he's doing!"

"He's going to live, and you'll probably have the best Seeker your team's ever had back by the next game!" McGonagall snapped irately. "Leaning over him like you're planning on suffocating him or startling his wits from him when he wakes is hardly the best way to ensure a win for your rematch!"

Harry couldn't help the brief smile that flickered over his face at the sound of their voices. He forced his eyes open, blinking a couple of times. The infirmary swam into view after a moment.

"Harry!"

Hermione rushed to his side, leaning over him. Her hair fell in wet tangles around her face, and she hurriedly brushed some of them out of the way so she could actually see them. Oliver, on his right, had shifted back at McGonagall's urging but now immediately returned to peering intently at him.

"Are you all right?" Oliver demanded.

"I think you'd be better off asking the trained mediwitch than the boy who was unconscious half a minute ago," McGonagall dryly pointed out, somewhere behind Oliver.

"I don't feel dead," Harry said encouragingly.

"There's a start." He had to raise his head to see the twins at the foot of his bed. "If he can joke, he can fly."

"Professor," Harry said, trying to look around Oliver, "what did you say about a rematch?"

"After you knocked yourself out on the ground, we called the game off due to the weather, the dementors, and a downed Seeker," McGonagall told him.

Harry frowned. "But I caught the snitch."

There was a long moment of silence. Hermione looked down at his clenched hand and unpeeled his still freezing fingers from around the ball. "Oh, so he did."

"Blimey," Ron said, leaning past Hermione to look. "Nicely done, mate."

Harry didn't think he was imagining the smugness in McGonagall's voice when she said, "In that case, I will inform the headmaster that a change of plans is in order." She finally stepped close enough for him to see her past Oliver, who was in fact still leaning over him like he was either going to strangle or kiss him. After the snitch revelation, Harry thought the latter was looking uncomfortably likely. "Mr. Potter, am I correct in believing that you cast a patronus charm this afternoon against the dementors?"

Harry nodded and McGonagall looked, if possible, even prouder. "Stupendous spellwork. Twenty points to Gryffindor." He grinned at her.

"I didn't know you could do a patronus," Fred said, staring at him in awe.

"That's our Seeker for you," Oliver said.

"It's a recent thing," Harry said, "since I didn't want to deal with the dementors again. What happened, by the way? I just remember falling."

"Well, you and Diggory went after the snitch-" Oliver said, worry coloring his tone.

"No, I remember everything up until we reached the pitch," Harry told him.

Oliver sank in relief. McGonagall took over. "The patronus charm exhausted you, and between that and the dementors you fell unconscious."

"Sorry, mate," George said sheepishly. "We would have caught you sooner, but we thought you were just fleeing from the dementors some more. It wasn't until Diggory had completely stopped and you were about to punch the ground with your head that we realized there was probably something wrong with you."

He sat up, a bit shaky, and frowned. "How long was I out?"

"A half hour," Ron told him. "Not long."

On the other side of the bed, Madame Pomphrey passed a bar of chocolate to McGonagall, who started to hand it to Harry only for it to be hurriedly snatched by Oliver who thrusted it into Harry's hands, as if the half second difference in speed would somehow determine the fate of the upcoming match against Ravenclaw. Harry grinned at the gesture and broke off a couple of pieces for himself, then divided the rest and absently started handing pieces to everyone else gathered around his bed. After a moment, McGonagall acquiesced and took the proffered piece.

He was kept in the hospital wing for the next few days, just to keep an eye on him, and Ron and Hermione spent most of the time with him, knocking homework out of the way since there was little else to do. Harry wrote a couple letters back to America, which they took to Hedwig for him.

Unsurprisingly, no one was happy to hear about the Quidditch incident, and though he knew he'd toned it down considerably, Blackwolf would probably have told them in an instant what a dementor attack would have been like, making any of his lies of omission redundant. His father also told him to stay away from Hogsmeade for now, in case Black was there, but if Harry didn't go after the twins had given him the map then the pair might become suspicious.

That was how, a couple weeks later, he found himself in the Three Broomsticks, ducking under the table to hide as some of the school's staff and the Minister of Magic sat down at a table near them, soon to be joined by Rosmerta, the barmaid.

When they got back to the school, the three of them grabbed a corner of Gryffindor common room and Harry quickly wrote down everything he could remember about the conversation. The other two quietly added in bits that he forgot to add, and when he was done, he drafted a letter to his father explaining what had happened. Not long after that, the two pieces of parchment were on their way to America, and Harry just hoped that he could make it home for Christmas without any more excitement.

"I heard from Gideon that we got Harry mail," Morgan said, sitting down in the visitor chair in front of Hotch's desk.

"He got some news about Black." The tone was somewhat dismissive, not out of apathy but rather assuming Morgan wouldn't need the details. That, and Morgan could clearly see the browning parchment and ink on top of his desk, out of place beside the printed white sheets.

"News?" Morgan frowned. If something had happened, Hotch would be a lot more excitable than this.

"Information," Hotch clarified. "He overheard a conversation." He glanced up from the paperwork he had been looking over. "Which, by the way, took place between a group of people who included the Minister of Magic and deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. Three thirteen-year-olds were able to listen in."

It was unnecessary to state Hotch's view of their incompetency in the handling of the Black case. If this had been in America, he and JJ would surely have managed to wrest control of it by now.

Hotch grimaced, a probable sign of his irritation with himself for letting that slip out even though Morgan was hardly going to begrudge him for it. "Anyway, that's what it was about."

Morgan threw one arm over the back of his chair, and Hotch raised an eyebrow slightly at his knowing look. "C'mon, Hotch," he said. "You know we've already unofficially started profiling Black anyway, even if we haven't done it as a group. We might as well have all the information."

Hotch grimaced. "We have cases to work, ones we can actually get involved in. This isn't something we can control."

Oh, and didn't Morgan know how much Hotch hated that. "Well, not officially, no," Morgan agreed. "But we can help Harry with a profile, and if something really goes wrong, we know that we can get into Hogsmeade if Blackwolf gives us a hand. If Black shows up and we're in a position to do something, we'd rather have the profile already made than scrambled together last minute."

Hotch still didn't look convinced. Morgan knew he was worried about dragging their attention away from the cases on their desks that it was their job to do. "I won't say we care about him as much as you do," Morgan continued, "because I don't think that's possible, but we don't want anything to happen to him. He might as well be our nephew. We're going to look more into this anyway, so it makes more sense to just save time and collaborate on it."

Hotch grimaced again, glancing at the clock. Without giving a go-ahead, he said obliquely, "I'm going to be here later than normal to look over old Unsub profiles who have a similar history and behavioral pattern to Black."

"If we all stayed after and it got back to Strauss, we could be in for some trouble," Morgan said. "We could work on it at someone's house. Maybe we should see if Travis or Blackwolf could come down, in case they know something that could help."

"They're both busy and they've spent a lot of time helping us. Let's get the profile together first and then contact them."

That acceptance that there would be a collaborative effort was enough of an approval for Morgan. He grinned swiftly and got to his feet. "I'll tell everyone."

Saturday found all of them at Elle's house, which was the largest one that didn't have dogs who might react to the Reid Effect or Jack who Hotch didn't want overhearing anything.

"Okay, before anything else, let's go over what we know just to make sure we're all on the same page," Elle said, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "Sometimes we got individual letters, and I know Harry probably told Hotch everything that he thought was relevant to Black, but things just aren't adding up for me."

Gideon nodded, making a humming noise. "There's something else going on that we don't know about. It could be that Harry simply hasn't mentioned it, figuring we either already knew or that it was inconsequential, but more likely than not there's much more to this situation. Hotch, you know the most."

"Black and Potter were best friends since day one at Hogwarts. Both were troublemakers, but it seems like that's not necessarily a bad thing in wizarding society – the barmaid, Hagrid and McGonagall all praised their past partnership. After school, Black was Potter's best man at his wedding, became Harry's godfather, and was made the Secret Keeper." There were a couple of blank looks, and he quickly explained the Fidelius Charm.

"Then he betrayed the Potters' location and Riddle killed both adults, though his curse on Harry backfired. Hagrid was sent to the Potter house when news of the attack got out, and he got Harry out of the rubble. Black was also there, and tried to convince Hagrid to give Harry to him because he'd been named godfather. Hagrid said no, since Dumbledore had told him to deliver Harry to the Dursley house. Black gave him use of his flying motorbike, saying he wouldn't need it anymore.

"A day later, Peter Pettigrew – who was rather untalented and unpopular in school but followed the pair around – found and confronted Black, shouting at him about betraying his friends. Black killed him as he went for his wand, and blew up the street they were on, killing thirteen nonmagical bystanders. The only thing found left of Pettigrew was his finger and bloodied clothing. When the Magical Law Enforcement Squad caught up to him, he was laughing and he went willingly with them.

"The Minister visited Azkaban shortly before the breakout. Most prisoners there are severely unhinged because of the presence of the dementors, but he said that Black was entirely calm and reasonable, even asking him for his newspaper once he was done with it because he missed doing the crossword. The group Harry overheard believed Black to be Riddle's most loyal follower, his heir in a way, and they think he might be trying to find a way to bring him back.

"He somehow got into the school on Halloween and tried to enter Gryffindor tower, cutting up the portrait guardian when she wouldn't let him in. There are suspicions that he made a mistake, since any other night Harry would have been in the dorm but was instead down at the holiday feast with everyone else. That night, Harry overheard Snape and Dumbledore talking, and Snape seemed to think that someone Dumbledore had brought into the school was a traitor who had let Black 's all we know about what's directly connected to the case."

Reid frowned. "Someone Dumbledore brought into the school – that'd be someone Snape doesn't like. Hagrid was just brought on as Care of Magical Creatures, but Lupin's this year's DADA professor and it sounded like there was quite the animosity between him and Snape."

"Harry said he almost wondered if Snape was planning on poisoning him with a draught he'd made," Morgan added.

JJ made a note on a pad of paper in front of her. "We need to find out how old he is. He could have gone to school with Black and Potter. Is there anything else someone thinks could be important?"

"There are the passages under the school," Elle pointed out. "Those and the Shrieking Shack. Hey, weren't the dementors given permission to suck out Black's soul as soon as they saw him?"

"According to a newspaper Harry read, yes," Gideon said. "Why?"

"Well, doesn't it seem odd that the dementors charged the pitch but didn't go anywhere near the students? And in that storm..." She paused, but there was no mincing words. "Quidditch is quite the dangerous game without the kind of weather Harry described. It would have been the perfect opportunity for him to try to kill Harry."

"The dementors would have gone there to get Black, but they couldn't have gotten closer because they couldn't go near the students, so they would have just hovered over the pitch like Harry described," Morgan summarized. "Only, once the two Seekers got close, they were so hungry it didn't matter anymore and they chased them down to the pitch." Elle nodded.

"There's something that's really bothering me," Reid said. "All of this – getting onto the pitch, sneaking around the castle – this doesn't make sense. Someone should have seen him. None of the portraits saw him, and Harry says they're all over the castle, in just about every hall. Invisibility cloaks are so rare that that's practically an impossibility. And then at the pitch, even in that weather, someone should have noticed an adult in the crowd, especially one who wouldn't have been near the staff. So how's he getting around without anyone noticing? And how often is he doing it?"

That rather unsettling notion hung over the room, the noise broken only by JJ writing it down.

"I want to know who else goes to Azkaban," Morgan said. "Something's different between Black and the rest of them, if he kept his sanity. That, or he's also got a talent that kept him from going crazy."

"We need more information on his family life," Reid added.

"We just need more information," Elle said with a sigh. "This is barely anything to work with. It's a lot of scattered bits and pieces of heresay."

Hotch caught a contemplative look on Gideon's face. "What?"

"I have an illegal idea," Gideon calmly said, tone slow as the idea continued to build. "Let's fake a Black sighting in America."

"No one would believe it," JJ said, frowning in confusion.

"Of course not, but it would give Blackwolf or someone else a reason to access Black's files. I wouldn't suggest something like this, but the security at Hogwarts has been rather appalling in the face of Black's repeated entry onto the grounds."

The BAU was aggressively lovable towards Harry when he arrived for Christmas break. Elle grabbed him in a hug and swung him around, making Reid dart out of the way or risk getting hit, and Harry staggered back, grinning, when she finally put him down.

"I'll go tell Garcia the little one's back," Morgan said, sending a wave towards Harry before he headed off. Hotch was standing back as he watched the proceedings, smiling faintly.

"Conference room," Gideon said, as they were still standing in the middle of the bullpen where other agents worked as well.

Travis was waiting for them there, and she grinned as Harry walked in. "Hey! How was your semester?"

"Only almost died twice," Harry said. "New record."

"We all need life goals."

"Sorry, but I didn't think you'd be here just to see me come back."

The lighthearted expression on her face flickered. "Sorry. I'm here for the Black case. This was my only open slot this month to come give information, and Blackwolf's booked even worse than I am."

He shrugged. "I get it."

"How did you come back?" JJ asked as they all started to settle down around the table. Garcia and Morgan came in, and the tech analyst hugged Harry from behind, a bit awkwardly since he was sitting down. "I'm surprised they let you leave the school with Black on the loose."

"Snape at least knows the Dursleys hate me, so I used that and told them that I needed to go back over break to work things out with them so I could at least get a truce out of them for when I returned in the summer," he explained. "They weren't happy about it, but they let me go. Besides, Black's broken into Hogwarts more often than he's showed up at Privet Drive."

Travis glanced at her clock. "Sorry to push this along – I know Harry just got back – but we've really got to get started." Hotch gestured for her to go ahead. "Black grew up in pureblood house composed almost predominantly of Slytherins, and didn't get along with almost any of his family members. Upon going to Hogwarts, he was immediately sorted into Gryffindor." She smirked at Harry. "I'll bet you can just guess how well that went over with his family."

"Wait," Morgan said, raising a hand, "Slyth- What?"

"Hogwarts is divided into four houses: Slytherin, for the ambitious; Hufflepuff, the loyal; Gryffindor, the courageous; Ravenclaw, the intellects," Travis explained. "The Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry dates back to the founding of the school, but there are a lot of factors involved in the modern tension. The Gryffindors are known for siding with the Light and the Slytherins with the Dark; Gryffindors support muggleborns and Slytherins only respect purebloods; Gryffindors think Slytherins are too manipulative and cold, Slytherins think Gryffindors are brash and stupid. However, the Slytherins tend to get ostracized because of all of that and lineage, so a lot of them are pushed to ambition for lack of any other model. Most abused kids actually end up there." Her glance towards Harry wasn't subtle.

"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me there but I'd just had a bad experience with Draco Malfoy," Harry admitted.

"The Sorting Hat?" Reid asked.

"It sings a song each year."

Travis snorted. "Anyway, back to Black, but remember the House thing because it's important. So Black joins Gryffindor and meets three others in his year: James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin. It seems like the four were good friends, from what little testimony about the case there is. Black ran away from home and was subsequently disowned, and then stayed with the Potters for the rest of his school years. That kind of thing."

"Is there information about his trial?" Gideon asked.

"There wasn't one. That sort of thing got glossed over at the end of the war. People just wanted it all over."

"How did Pettigrew find out where Black was?" JJ was frowning slightly. "He found Black before the Ministry officials did, but Black was essentially in the middle of nowhere."

"We need to talk to Lupin," Hotch said.

"I don't see how that's going to happen before school ends," Travis said. "Provided, of course, that he doesn't die because of the curse on the DADA position before then."

"What's got you so worn out?" Hotch asked almost as soon as they arrived home. The last couple of hours, Harry had been dozing off whenever he sat in one place for longer than a few minutes without anyone engaging him in conversation.

By that point, Harry was just too exhausted to bother coming up with an excuse. "I was up-" yawn "-late trying to-" yawn "-get homework done. Before break. So...free for break."

"...How late?"

"'Till two. At least. Since Wednesday. And at least midnight since Monday."

Hotch paused, blinking at him in surprise for a moment. Harry was blinking too, but mostly just to try and wake himself up. "Well..." Hotch finally said. "It's early, but you should probably get some sleep if you want to be at all alive for break."

Harry nodded sleepily, but didn't seem to have processed the words entering his ears until Hotch coaxed Harry up the stairs towards his bedroom.

Hotch managed to explain the situation to Jack quickly enough to keep him quiet so his older brother could sleep, and then somehow wrested the excited boy into bed without letting him see Harry - he knew even opening the door so Jack could peek in would result in Jack trying to wake the teenager. Jack sullenly went to sleep, and Hotch spent an hour glancing over the house in last-minute preparations. He'd cleaned up, well aware that Harry's almost neurotic cleaning tendencies probably hadn't completely dissipated, but he also needed to make sure everything was ready for another guest to stay in the house.

Right on time the next morning, Sean showed up on the doorstep and Hotch quickly ushered him in before he could ring the doorbell again. "They're both still asleep," Hotch said quietly as Sean shut the door.

"Still?" Sean muttered. "It's, like, ten."

"I couldn't get Jack to go to bed last night and Harry needs the rest," Hotch said as they began to move towards the kitchen. It was furthest from the staircase, and anything they said would not carry up the stairs to either boy.

"What, was he up late partying?"

Both paused as floorboards overhead creaked.

"That's Harry's room, isn't it?" Hotch nodded. "Sorry. It was probably the doorbell."

"He's a very light sleeper and you didn't know. He'll probably just go back to sleep." Making sure to keep his voice quiet, he asked, "He was up late getting homework done."

"Oh God. He's got the Hotchner workaholic gene. You've warned him it's chronic and incurable, right?"

"We have a treatment plan here. It requires regular doses of JET. Seems to work."

"What's JET?"

"Jack Exposure Therapy."

Sean put a hand over his heart. "What's this? You cracked a joke?"

"I'm in a good mood."

Sean was with them for most of break, and he and Jack had a tendency to gang up on Harry and ask him questions rapid fire about the wizarding world. He quickly admitted to Sean that his friend Hermione was really the one he should be asking, and Sean told him to ask Hermione if she wouldn't be willing to answer some of his questions. Hotch came home as often as he could, but Harry quickly realized how accurate his warning from the airport had been. There were times work kept him so busy that he didn't get home until the early morning and had to leave just a few hours later to get back to the office, but he was clearly making an effort to get home more often than he normally would.

There was a regular D.C. trip with Elle, Reid, and Morgan, which Harry discovered that he had missed more than he thought he had. They visited more of the Smithsonian, to Reid's utter delight and the amusement of everyone else, as well as some of the monuments scattered around the area.

Harry was intensely grateful that he had managed to get most of his schoolwork done before break, because it was only in the last two days that he remembered his remaining essays and quickly hurried to complete them. Reid had made some vague excuse about helping and then promptly read through the books Harry had brought home with him and spouting out random facts he saw instead of actually helping Harry look for information. It was amusing enough that Harry didn't call him out on it and tried his best to just focus on what he was doing.

Agent Travis showed up to take him back to Hogwarts, and everyone reluctantly admitted it would probably be for the best that they just remained in America instead of accompanying him back to the station, although it was now much easier to get to England. Harry said goodbye to everyone at the end of break, and then he was back at King's Cross.

The letters from Harry between Christmas and Easter were not in the slightest bit reassuring.

First, Harry got back to discover that he'd been sent a Firebolt, since all of his mail had been delivered to Hogwarts over break. Hermione thought that highly suspicious, turned it into McGonagall for checking, and was promptly rewarded for her efforts by harassment from most of the Gryffindors. Harry agreed with her, though – there was no point for someone to send him a broom when he already had a good one, especially not one that expensive and sent without a message. It had almost certainly been Black who had sent it.

The second thing that happened was much worse and effectively annihilated Hotch's hopes in Hogwarts security. Black not only got into the school again – he got into Harry's dorm with a knife and was only noticed when he was leaning over Ron's bed.

Ron's screaming had woken most of the dorm immediately, which posed the question once more that was bothering Hotch the most. How had Black gotten passed all the swarms of students who had gotten out of bed and come to see what was going on? Even if he'd been invisible, someone would have surely bumped into him, and he couldn't have run out of there quickly enough to avoid everyone.

All of that put together, Hotch decided he was going back to Hogsmeade. Sometimes, Harry told him, the professors came down to Hogsmeade for a drink or something of the sort. Maybe he could figure out a way to get Lupin to see him there.

The same day he came to that conclusion, Garcia bounced into his room with a wide grin on her face.

"We solved it!"

He stared at her. "Solved what?"

"We got a computer to work around magic!"

[-]

Author's Notes: By the way, shout out to all my recurring reviewers. You guys are fantastic.

So jayswing96 asked about the Hotchner family patronuses, and coincidentally enough that question got partially answered in this chapter. Hotch's, Jack's (sort of), and Harry's are going to get revealed later so I won't say anything now, but I can share the other one. I think Sean would be a ferret – you know, snuggly and a little shit, and kinda scary if angry but still basically harmless.

Yep, patronuses can shift forms. Tonks's did when she fell in love with Remus, becoming a wolf.