Hey everyone! I had the choice between answering to everyone and skip Avengers: Age of Ultron this afternoon (I surrendered to curiosity, even if I really, REALLY hate the French voices the actors have), or let you enjoy a new chapter and answer more promptly next time. Figured you wouldn't mind the second option ^^"

Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorite/follow, and I'll try to update soon!

And thanks to KatHarkness-Katara for beta-ing!

Chapter 11

"Very well, class dismissed,." McGonagall ordered after one last glance around the room.

Yasha put his wand back in his pocket and started cleaning up his desk. Today's task had involved transfiguration of a die into a thimble. He discreetly swept one of the unused dice in his pocket for later training, as he usually did after every class. Transfiguration was one of his favorite classes, one in which he took trouble to practice after hours.

"Mr Romanov, could you stay behind for a moment?"

The professor's voice caught him slightly off guard. He glanced at McGonagall, who looked at him expectantly. Perl gave him a side glance, to which he replied with a shrug and motioned him to go ahead. A few others –namely Malfoy and his goons- snickered. He had a vague idea why she'd ask him to stay. Using his wand had truly been a chore lately. His wandless magic functioned perfectly, but he had more and more trouble hiding his abilities. He suspected his lack of success was the reason why she was calling on him.

"It came to my attention that you have encountered difficulties with spell casting." She started once the last student had left the room, and he thought 'bingo'. "You do remarkably well in Potions and Herbology…everything that doesn't involve using a wand."

"I guess I'm a bit behind," he replied with a shrug. He'd have to worry when Neville Longbottom started scoring better than him. Until then he'd still have time to find a way to cheat. "I wasn't expecting to be a wizard till last September. And I'm not used being so far from my family, I miss them a bit," He added, although he wondered how long it would take until they figured out he was just better off without a wand. In the meantime, he could always seek for excuses through emotional distress and the need for adaptation.

"I understand, Mister Romanov," she replied, although she didn't look quite convinced. "But the matter is still the same. Would you like me to assign you a tutor to help you?"

For a brief moment, he thought this could be a golden opportunity to get closer to Jack. If the older boy taught him, he'd have excuses to spend time with him and learn about his objectives. But he didn't know how well the teen did in class, and if he even wanted to. Too many risks to allow a stranger into his comfort zone; and he would probably lose some independence.

"I get along with Granger well enough, maybe I could ask her?" he suggested. McGonagall's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Miss Granger might be otherwise occupied," the teacher said cautiously. Yasha nearly smirked; was she wary of what a Slytherin could do to one of her cubs? "But I suppose asking her first won't hurt."

"I'll do that. Thank you for your concerns professor, I'm sure it's just a matter of time before I get the hang of it."

He waited for her dismissal before walking out of the classroom. Next was Potions, and he was already late. And when he arrived, much to his distaste, Perl wasn't there. Instead, he paired up with another lone Slytherin who tried to let him do all the work. A harsh glare and a low growl had been convincing enough for his classmate to move along, and only then he'd realized he actually wished for his annoying sidekick's presence. While the boy was mostly annoying, he did make for a good companion, if only to pass time.

As a matter of fact, Perl wasn't the only one absent for the class. Slytherin and Gryffindor shared Potions together, and he didn't hear Granger's attempts to correct Longbottom. He focused on the course instead, and overheard students talking about the Halloween feast and the decorating of the Great Hall. He realized he had been stuck in Hogwarts for two months already and hadn't learned that much, more or less what he had been expecting. As Snape coldly ordered the class to dismiss, Yasha was considering the benefits of quitting and attempting a late entry to one of those schools his former music teacher had recommended him. He'd wait for Christmas to make a final decision, he decided. And then…

"Romanov!"

Yasha glanced around and spotted Perl running towards him with wide eyes. The dark haired narrowed his eyes.

"You weren't in Potions! Where have you be-"

But Perl didn't give him time to speak a word more and pulled his sleeve.

"Hermione's in trouble! You need to come with me!"

Yasha nearly groaned but dutifully followed Perl through the corridors.

"What happened?"

"I overheard some girls talking about Charms class. Hermione corrected Weasley on a spell after she got hers right. But he snapped at her afterwards and she didn't take it well. He said something about hernot having any real friends."

Yasha frowned, feeling slight irritation grow towards the redhead Gryffindor. He still wouldn't call his relationship with Granger a true friendship, but he was growing fond of her. She might be annoying and bossy at times, but she was still the smartest girl he knew. And she had waited for him to wake up in the infirmary.

"You know where she is?" he asked eventually.

"Girls' bathroom. I've been trying to talk her out of there since we came out of Transfiguration but she won't listen to me."

Yasha didn't dwell on the fact Perl had squatted in the girls' private quarters for an hour and didn't seem bothered by it.

"And you think I have a better chance of convincing her?"

"For some reason, she likes you more." He replied flatly. "C'mon, your turn to try to lure the lion out of its den."

When they arrived at the bathroom, all corridors were deserted. This area was far from the common rooms and most classes had ended at this were most likely in their common room hanging around or doing homework before dinnertime, something Yasha was looking less and less forward to thanks to Dumbledore's persistent inquisitive glances.

"Granger, you're in there?" he called, even though the stiff sobs betrayed the presence of someone. A quick glance at Perl –who nodded encouragingly –and he went on: "You're going to miss dinner if you don't come out now."

"I'm not hungry," a small sobbing voice replied. Yasha sighed dryly.

"You'll miss the show. I heard the Great Hall would be specially decorated for Halloween."

"I don't care!"

Yasha gave Perl an exasperated stare. The boy waved encouragingly. He took a deep breath and decided to face the matter at hand.

"Are you hiding because of what Weasley said?" No answer. "What did he say again?" he asked Perl, whose eyes were widening in panic.

"Uh-" the boy stammered, ill-at-ease and not willing to repeat what had upset Hermione. "He said –uh…"

But it had the effect Yasha was looking for. Hermione's voice, slightly hysterical, replied for him:

"He said I was a shame for Gryffindor! That no-one wants to be my friend because I hang out with Slytherins and that even you aren't real friends, you just tolerate me! And he's right –Aengus is only there because he wants to know about the muggle world and you Yakov, you don't even like me!"

Yasha wanted to bang his head against the wall.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered. "You don't have friends at Gryffindor or in general because you love spreading your knowledge and keep correcting others whenever they make a mistake. They think you think you're better than them 'cause you never make a to mention you are muggleborn, which might irritate wizard-bred people even more. And Slytherin is Gryffindor's natural enemy, of course they won't like that you hang out with us. You're just proving Weasley right by hiding in the toilets."

Perl rolled his eyes and Hermione's sobs doubled in intensity.

"You suck at comforting, you know." The other boy pointed out. Yasha sighed heavily and ran a hand into his hair. Fine, maybe he lacked subtlety but in his defense, the only person he ever had to comfort –and that was, to say the least, rare –was Natalia. And she didn't work much with words. And apparently, words wouldn't work for Granger either.

For a brief moment, he hesitated. There might be one way to lure her out…He turned towards Perl and demanded:

"Lock the door. I don't want anyone interrupting."

While the other boy obeyed wordlessly, Yasha searched his inside pocket for his violin. He restored it to its normal size and started checking the pitch.

"You think music will make it all better?" Perl asked once he returned, and Yasha ignored him. He was more interested by the fact that Granger had stopped sobbing and was very quiet in her toilet. So he had her attention. Good.

He settled his violin against his shoulder more firmly and started to play. He needed something that necessitated some skills, at least enough to lure her out. Vivaldi's Storm was his first choice, mostly because he hadn't touched it for a while, and also because he figured that, being a muggleborn, she'd maybe recognize it. That particular piece was more impressive with an orchestra behind, but he figured this would be enough. After the first few notes, he closed his eyes and let himself go. The melody echoed in the bathroom, until the unmistakable creaking of a door interfered. Yasha ignored the sound, taking it for the small victory he intended to earn. Curiosity would always best one's mood, and he knew that Hermione had wanted to see him play since he had told her about his adventures with the centaurs.

He just hoped she'd appreciate his effort. He didn't play willingly for anyone, except Natalia and his music teacher. Yasha felt a slight pang in his chest at the thought of his mother. Damn if he wasn't missing her.

Focus, he ordered himself.

Once he was done, he lowered his instrument and stared at his audience. Perl was staring with wide, stunned eyes and Hermione was peeking shyly from behind the cubicle door. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks pink, but she was smiling.

"You are good," she said eventually.

"Of course I am," Yasha replied although not arrogantly. He was good and he knew it, no need to be modest. "The acoustics are terrible though." He added with a frown. "Don't ever make me play in a bathroom again."

Hermione just chuckled and nodded.

When Natasha returned to her quarters that night, an envelope was waiting for her tucked under the door. Since she had passed her tests and was officially on mission probation –supervised by Barton, but at least she'd be out for some action –Hill had her moved to other quarters with the senior agents and dropped by less and less frequently. Her correspondence with Yasha wasn't under strict surveillance anymore –Hill still read it as a precaution –but she was still not allowed to pick up her mail at the official drop box. Instead, the two women had agreed –or rather, she was forced to agree –to have her letters slipped under her door. Her new quarters had personalized security, only overridden by level 8s, of whom there were very few on base, so she wouldn't need to worry about lower levels attempting to intrude.

So apparently, Yasha had written to her today. Without bothering to change her clothes, she let herself fall back on the bed and opened the envelope. Two pages. She smiled; he must have had a lot to say.

'Hi mama,'

The first part summarized how bored he was with school and how actually useless it felt. Natasha was surprised –and maybe a bit jealous –to read that he had played his precious violin to comfort someone. At the same time, she was glad he was making actual friends. Had the girl truly meant nothing to him, he would have just cut the discussion short and 'given her some space to get over it'. The main default of that boy was his bluntness, she decided.

However, she felt shocked reading the next part.

'You'd never guess what happened on Halloween dinner. Everything was going fine, till one of our teachers –the guy who can't speak of vampires without looking about to faint –barged in and screamed 'troll in the castle!'. You know what a troll is? A big mountain of muscles and no brains dragging a mace. Ugly too. Green-brown skin and smelly. How do I know this? Because when the headmaster oh-so-helpfully ordered students to return in their common room, he apparently forgot that my common room is located near the dungeons. When I told Perl, one of the girls –the one who calls me freak all the time –declared she wouldn't leave the Great Hall and a lot of people approved. The headmaster went back on his decision and declared that everyone should stay in the Great Hall instead, and we finished eating there.

When the troll was finally found –wandering in the girls' bathroom; it's a good thing we'd coaxed Granger out earlier –a few sneaked out to catch a glimpse. Mostly students of the house of idiots and a few smartasses. Perl and I went too, which is why I can say our school, in my humble opinion, no longer holds the title of 'safest place in Great Britain'. They still have no idea how that thing entered the castle, especially since it's supposed to be afraid of those new guards we have. Seriously, that troll was huge! I'm not sure bullets would do anything to it, and the eyes were so tiny a bullet could barely pass through –and I think that's the only weak point in that big stupid creature's body.'

Natasha glared at the letter and muttered a curse under her breath. She had sent her boy there thinking he would be safe. Apparently, she was wrong.

'Anyway, if you ever have the chance, do you think you could look into the music schools I was recommended? I'll check that out during Christmas vacations, because I am definitively not staying at the castle. I really, really can't wait to return and see you.'

The redhead sighed heavily and made a mental note to inform Hill she'd have to do some side research. She had an inner smile thinking of the agent's reaction; the infamous Black Widow asking to check into music schools.

Someone knocked at her door. Natasha set the letter aside and opened to her visitor. She didn't know why she was surprised to see Barton outside, especially since it had only been about an hour since their last training session. The archer was grinning widely.

"Hope you're ready for some action," he told her bluntly. "We're being called out into the field."

Natasha nearly muttered 'finally', but kept an impassible face instead.

"When do we leave?" she asked instead. Barton shrugged.

"Meeting point in twenty. Coulson's doing the debriefing."

She briefly recalled the plain-looking man, easily forgotten in the corner of a room. Natasha was already in her catsuit, so she closed the door behind and followed him through the corridors.

"You have any idea what this is about?" she eventually asked. The archer shrugged.

"Not much. I just hope SHIELD got us a hotel with a heater. Apparently we're headed to Budapest."

The huge black dog sniffed the air to check for any intruders and when he found none, went on his way. The corridors were empty at this time of the day; he could nearly smell the delicious odors coming from the feast in the Great Hall. His stomach grumbled a bit and he forced himself to look away and focus on his search. Evading dementors had been easier than expected, but still bringing him back dark memories from his time in Azkaban…He shook his head and continued his merry way.

Earlier that day, he had spotted Harry sitting in an isolated place at the other side of the lake. He could still remember his surprise at the sight. He was his father's son, physically speaking. Black hair, straight posture, a slightly arrogant air to him and what to say about his shape! He looked strong enough, in good health and perfectly balanced. If not a little creepy. Because seriously, long hair? Sirius nearly mistook him for a girl in the afar. And as Dumbledore had confirmed, he was in Slytherin according to his robe. It peeved him a bit to know his best friend's son had ended in the house of the lion's natural enemy. But then again, he could only put the blame on Romanov.

A small voice in the back of his head told him pinning everything on the Russian spy was a bit easy. Maybe he hadn't quite made peace with her yet.

At least, the boy seemed to have a few friends. Another Slytherin and a Gryffindor. And both were all ears as Harry played the violin smoothly. That was another shocker. The violin? A muggle pastime? Then again, he had sounded so lost in his music, so concentrated and content as he played –and Sirius didn't need to be an expert to recognize hours of labor. That morning had also been the reason why he was currently taking the risk of entering the castle so early instead of waiting past nightfall.

Once Harry had done playing and tucked his violin away, the isolated trio had switched to talking. The dog crept closer and in total silence. Once he was within earshot, he hid in a bush and waited.

"Why don't you play for a larger public sometime?"The Slytherin boy asked, once Harry was done.

"Wizards can't appreciate the hard work some people put in mastering a violin, they'd just cast a spell for it to play on its own," he replied dryly. "Magic is just an easy way out."

"And you weren't in a music school?" the Gryffindor girl asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Would have gone there, if it hadn't been for Hogwarts," Harry said, raising both eyebrows. "And even then, I only came because mom thought I'd be better off trying to study magic first."

Sirius nearly choked as the girl voiced up his thoughts in a very indignant tone:

"You nearly declined Hogwarts?"

"I want to be a musician, so magic is not my priority," he replied with a shrug. Sirius wondered if somewhere, James was throwing a fit. "Maybe I'll hire a private tutor later. Why, are you intending to become something in particular?"

The discussion went on with the two others speaking of their future projects. Sirius waited a little more, fascinated and bored at the same time, till a Hufflepuff appeared, interrupting their conversation. He was older, so maybe just an acquaintance. Harry seemed to know him but not appreciate his presence much. The two others looked clueless.

"Hello Romanov," the newcomer greeted. It took Sirius a couple seconds to remember that Harry wasn't actually Harry anymore, but Yakov. He'd have to get used to it, he supposed.

"Hill," Harry replied politely, albeit a bit confused. "What's up?"

"I heard you needed lessons for your magic practice." 'Hill' said nonchalantly. Sirius's attention was piqued: he knew all too well that expression on the Hufflepuff's face. Remus used to have the same whenever he had something in mind. "I'm offering my services. Meet me at six next to the transfiguration classroom?"

Harry studied the newcomer with suspicion while his friends started to protest about them being perfectly capable of helping him. They seemed to be missing entirely a silent exchange between the older boy and him. Eventually, Harry broke the silence and replied with a big, fake smile.

"Sure, I'll be there."

Sirius didn't know why, but the Huffelpuff's eyes momentarily glanced in his direction. He tensed and waited, unmoving. Eventually, the teenager left, abandoning Harry to answer questions about his decision. Sirius deemed it prudent to leave the place and decided that is the six-o'clock practice meeting would be a golden opportunity to corner his godson. No matter the little voice in the back of his head whispering it might be a trap.

So there he was, trotting down the corridor that led to the transfiguration class –or so he hoped. He didn't expect classrooms to have switched places in years, especially if old McGonagall was still teaching, but who knew?

His heartbeat suddenly picked up as he spotted his godson barely ahead of him, carrying a piece of parchment with him. Had he been more focused and less happy to see him, Sirius would have recognized the Marauder's Map. But he didn't, and was caught off guard when the boy suddenly glanced in his direction with wide surprised eyes.

When Harry saw him, a hint of recognition crossed his expression and he cursed something like 'manipulative brat' and 'stay clear of the situation my ass' under his breath. Sirius did his best to contain his happiness as the boy crouched at his level to pet his head.

"I know who you are Sirius, so listen carefully," he whispered, staring straight in the canine's eyes. Sirius waggled his tail happily; at least that assassin had the decency to tell him some stuff. "I'm flattered you took time to seek me out, but now is not the time. Listen, go find mom; she's your safest bet. I don't know where she is but she will help you if you ask her nicely." Sirius whined in protest. The expression Harry made was oddly comical: "No, you listen. Go find her. We can always get acquainted properly later. I'm ninety percent sure that asshole knows you're here and it's not safe, especially for you."

The dog whined again and gave him the wide sad puppy eyes; no way was he going to let his godson slip away so fast! The boy's expression turned into a frown.

"Get the fuck out!" he hissed between gritted teeth. "I want to talk to my Godfather in person, not under that shape," he glared at the canine, "and certainly not under the risk of you getting caught. Am I being clear?" he added, using an intimidating 'you-obey-me-right-now-or-I'll-strangle-you-with-my-bare-hands' expression. He must have inherited that one from Romanov. "If finding Mom is too much of a hassle, just wait for us at the train. I'm heading home for Christmas, got it? Now go!"

The idea was reasonable, Sirius reflected. And at least, Harry seemed to use his head more than James did. Lily's influence? The dog left out a heavy sigh and turned around. As much as he hated it, Harry was right. Now wasn't the time. He picked up his pace, tail waggling on the way. His godson knew him. His godson knew him, and wanted to meet him. He wanted to meet him, but also had set a date for their meeting, a date and a place far from Hogwarts. Maybe he couldn't have completed the talk he had intended to, but Sirius felt this was an appropriate compromise. Now all he had to do was lurk around London till Christmas came.

Till next time :)