Year Three: The Prisoner of Azkaban

Werewolves teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Prisoners escaping Azkaban. Dementors patrolling the grounds at Hogwarts. This is the year of heartache and having to answer iron-clad questions. The year when everything must come clean. When Marie Rogue must own up to her true House...

Chapter Eleven-Page 394

It was impossible to sleep that night. There was security in numbers as all of the students were gathered in the Great Hall, all snug in the plush plum colored sleeping bags, but the whispers of how the criminal entered the castle seeped throughout the hall. Some said Dark magic while others wagered Apparation, despite the fact that Marie explained that Apparation couldn't possibly work on Hogwarts grounds (Hogwarts had defensive spells and enchantments, for goodness sake. A fact clearly stated in Hogwarts: A History). Then there was the unsettling fact that he had gotten past the dementors, again. Did they simply not affect him? If that was the case than Marie couldn't help but be overly impressed and in awe of the feat.

Prefects and ghosts alike stayed up and kept watch vigilantly as the teachers searched the rest of the castle for Sirius Black. Marie was cuddled deep into her sleeping bag, covered up to her nose as she kept an ever alert eye out for trouble. She couldn't sleep, how could she possibly? Although she felt safer with her friends, reassured with their presence, she couldn't unwind enough to shut her brain off. Then there was the added stimulation of Vincent Crabbe's snoring, which had to be the loudest she's ever heard. It was a wonder the boys of the third year dormitory ever slept.

There was the faint swish of a cloak nearby and the third year closed her eyes quickly, hoping her act would be convincing enough.

"Go to sleep, Miss Rogue. It's far too late to be awake," came the voice of Professor Snape, barely a whisper. She nodded, guilty and caught in the act of being up past the designated curfew.

"Yes, sir," she murmured in response. Almost as if by magic, her eyelids became heavy and she drifted off to sleep with no difficulty whatsoever. Out like a light.

Professor Snape prowled the Great Hall, maneuvering around sleeping bags that secured quiet students, finally dozing off after the Sirius Black scare. Well, all students with the exception of Marie Rogue. He could see her twisting and turning, the material of the sleeping bag rustling. Of course, she's awake. He sighed and made his way toward her section of the Hall. She stilled once she heard him approaching and pretended to be asleep. A humored smirk dared to pull at his mouth at her poor acting attempt. She was too tense, eyes screwed shut, brow furrowed, all tells stating that she was very much awake. He instructed her to go to sleep, to which she agreed. On second thought, recalling the third year's tendency to over think and put her body's need for sleep second, he gave a subtle wave of his wand to perform a minor Sleeping Charm, a light aid.

Headmaster Dumbledore entered the Great Hall once more, taking a moment to receive an update from Gryffindor Prefect Percy Weasley.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" asked Weasley in a whisper.

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir." Dumbledore nodded, glancing about to confirm the safety of the student body.

"Good. There's no point in moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow," he explained.

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argllyshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her." Severus was now close enough to speak in his hushed tone, not wanting to wake any other students or encourage eavesdroppers. They were near Potter and his friends, all of which had a knack for hearing what they weren't suppose to. Much like Miss Rogue.

"Headmaster," he spoke up. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?" suggested Dumbledore. He gave a short shake of his head.

"All searched."

He sighed softly. "Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" he asked, doing his best to hide his accusation.

"Many, Severus, each as unlikely as the next." His posture stiffened and he was doing his best not to scowl at the Headmaster. He knew very well what theory the potions teacher was implying, as he had been doing his best to explain it even before the start of term. Back in the summer, before the attack on Captain Tess, and now even more so.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before the start of term?" he asked, lips barely moving. He was hoping that the Gyffindor Prefect would take his cue and leave the two professors alone. Alas, Weasley was rapt with attention.

"I do, Severus," answered Dumbledore, voice laced with warning. Very faint, but still there. Of course he would remember, Severus brought it up every chance he could.

"It seems almost impossible that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed-"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," interrupted Dumbledore. His tone was stating quite plainly that the matter at hand was closed. The Potions master pressed his mouth into a thin line to silence his argument.

"If you'll excuse me, I must go down to the dementors. I said I would inform them once our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" asked Weasley.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I'm Headmaster." On that note, the older wizard turned to take his leave.

Severus glanced back at the now sleeping Marie. Completely oblivious to the fact that the best theory he had involved her former caretaker helping the wanted criminal in and out of the castle. After all, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were the best of friends.


Sirius Black was the talk of the school. Students exchanged wild theories and ideas as to how the criminal got into the castle, each one more bizarre than the first. For instance, Hannah Abbott spent the majority of Herbology telling Marie of her explanation of how Black transfigured himself into a shrub in order to sneak onto the grounds. The Slytherin simply nodded and listened to the Hufflepuff go on about the criminal shrub, as she had no better reason to provide.

The weather was steadily worsening as well, overshadowing the upcoming Quidditch season. The Slytherin boys would come in from practice absolutely drenched, sopping puddles of water following them from the pitch. The first match was suppose to be Slytherin versus Gryffindor, a typical grudge match to rile everyone up. Except, when Draco came back from the last practice before Saturday's match, his arm still in the ridiculous sling, he looked positively pleased with himself.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" asked Marie, setting down her Ancient Runes text. His eyes brightened and he moved her way, water flying when he shook his head to push back some of his blonde hair, the girl covering her perfectly organized parchment and work, unwilling to take water damage.

"We're not playing Gryffindor tomorrow," he explained, smirk in place. A clear sign that he had some hand in the affair. Marie's brow lowered in concern.

"No? Why not?" she asked. The Malfoy glanced about before wiggling the fingers of his 'injured' arm.

"Due to the fact that the Slytherin Seeker's arm is still injured, we are unable to play," he narrated, tone dramatic for the occasion. He took a seat next to her after shrugging off his Quidditch robe. "Flint's already been down to tell Wood. They'll be playing Hufflepuff instead. How's that? We get to avoid playing in this atrocious weather." Marie could only stare, appalled.

"What?" asked Draco, holding his hands out by the fire to dry. Marie tried to look back back at her homework but she turned back to her friend.

"But you're not hurt," she stated. He gave a smirk. "So why are you lying then? Slytherin can still play tomorrow."

"Why not? Betters our chances at winning the Cup." A moment passed and Marie could only stare wordlessly. Draco returned the odd look.

"What?"

"You're cheating."

"More like...arranging our terms of play-"

"Cheating," interrupted Marie. Her mouth formed a tight line as she turned back to her homework, dipping her quill into the inkwell. Draco gave a sigh, lolling his head back in exasperation.

"Oh come on, Marie, don't be like that," he tried. She kept her gaze on her parchment, flipping to the next page in her textbook.

"Sorry, Draco, but I've got homework to do," she stated evenly. The Malfoy heir sighed again, slumping in his seat. That disappointing tone of hers was going to bother him all night.


The weather only continued to unleash its might over the school grounds. The following day it was so dark and over cast that extra lanterns and torches had to be lit in the hallways and classrooms. Apart from that, it was a relatively normal day. That is, until it was time for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Marie and Hermione had used the Time Turner properly and had arrived without attracting attention as they typically did. Catching their breath from their trek from the Herbology greenhouses, Hermione stepped back to let the Slytherin enter the classroom first, so to stagger their entrances to prevent people from noticing that they were constantly arriving at the exact same time for every class.

When she stepped into the room, she was promptly stunned to a standstill, causing Hermione to bump into her back when she tried to walk into the room. After whispering a soft apology, both girls looked at the front of the room to see what was so shocking.

Instead of Professor Lupin's easy smile and wave from his desk, Professor Snape glanced up from the class notes, his imposing authority obvious. Marie then recovered from her surprise and gave a small wave of her own.

"Hello, Professor." Glancing about to see that the room was quite vacant, the two girls being the first to arrive. "Are you our teacher for today?"

"Yes. It seems Professor Lupin is feeling ill today," he answered stiffly, doing his best to keep any inflection from displaying his opinion of the other teacher. Marie's chest felt tight in worry at the thought of Remus being ill. They've been so out of their routine since school, staying the summer with Tess, and then school again, she had completely forgotten how weak the full moon cycles made her caretaker. Swallowing with difficulty and doing her best to avoid Hermione's sharp gaze, she regained her voice.

"Will he be all right, sir?" she asked, also careful of her tone. She couldn't be too concerned, but she couldn't will away all emotion when it came to Remus. He was important to her. Snape met her look of apprehension with his own coolness, to relieve some of her natural worry.

"It's nothing he can't handle, Miss Rogue. Professor Lupin will be with us again, rest assured," he answered, returning to the notes. With a nod, Marie found her seat as did Hermione just as the other students started to file in. All of the Gryffindors were alarmed by the Potions professor being in the chair of their beloved Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The Slytherins, on the other hand, looked amused by the prospect of their Head of House teaching another class.

When it was time for class to start, Professor Snape rose from the desk after marking an attendance roster of some sort, and circled so to stand at the head of the classroom, dark eyes scanning the room while the notes were still in his hand.

"As you can see, Professor Lupin is not with us today due to feeling under the weather," he explained, a small smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth. "So I am standing in for him today until he returns to good health. It seems as though Professor Lupin rather not keep any notes in regards to your progress or what topic you are to learn today."

Marie raised her hand in response, excited to help and provide the answer. They were due to start learning about hinkypunks that lesson. Snape was just about to call on her when the door opened and Harry Potter dashed inside, out of breath. The Slytherin quickly lowered her hand.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin, I-" he started. His words failed him when he saw Professor Snape instead.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down." Marie started to worry when Harry didn't sit down. Sit down, Harry. Don't cause a fuss, please don't cause a fuss, she begged mentally.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" he asked.

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape, with an odd sort of smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?" Marie's worry shifted to a minor panic as her brother did not take his seat. She watched with wide eyes, as did the rest of the class, after all, no one defied Snape. For good reason.

"What's wrong with him?" Now he was prying and she had to hold back a groan of frustration. What was so difficult about taking his seat and shutting his mouth? For heaven's sake, sit down Harry!

"Nothing life-threatening," answered Snape with an almost disappointed lilt. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."

Finally, Harry slowly made his way to his seat and Marie could feel her pulse steadily return to normal. About time.

"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far-" Before Marie could raise her hand to offer to help fill in the blanks, Hermione spoke up quickly.

"Please sir, we've done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows, and we were just about to start-"

"Be quiet," Snape said coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization." Marie felt a slight sting at the insult. She was going to offer the same information as Hermione, especially since their last studying session was over the subject of creatures learned thanks to Remus. And she didn't appreciate the jab at his lesson planning.

"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean Thomas boldly, a Gryffindor. Their was the low sound of agreeing murmurs, the Slytherins knowing to hold their tongues seeing as Snape looked more menacing than before at the comment.

"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you. I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we shall discuss..." The class watched with bated breath as he turned to the back of the book, where they clearly have not covered any topic of the sort and most likely wouldn't until the next term.

"Werewolves."

Panic seized her, eyes rounding as she openly stared at her professor in shock. Why would he possible want them to cover werewolves? They couldn't study werewolves, not with the week of the full moon currently in progress and Remus sick. Not to mention that the months after this lesson, students would have the information to string together the clues. Bright students, like Hermione, would have all the intel they would need. People would find out. Remus would be exposed. He would lose his job, especially once parents heard the news. They wouldn't see him as Remus, he would only be a monster to them. Even if Marie was emotionally scarred by the event that transpired on her birthday, she still loved Remus and he was still important to her. She didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

"Marie, breathe," whispered Draco softly next to her. He was the closest friend to see how she had gone rigid at the word, color drained from her face, green eyes unblinking as she became lost in thought. Drawing a deep breath, she gave the barest nod in acknowledment, doing her best to snap out of her daze.

"Thanks," she whispered back.

"But, sir," tried Hermione again, unable to swallow the impulse, "we're not suppose to do werewolves yet, we're due to start hinkypunks-"

"Miss Granger," interrupted Snape, his voice a kind of deadly calm. "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you to turn to page 394." He glanced around when no one moved. "All of you! Now!"

Books were opened and the pages sullenly turned until they were at the proper place, much farther than they were suppose to be.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and a true wolf?" asked Snape. Marie kept her hand determinedly down in her lap, refusing to answer. She noticed that the professor seemed to avoid looking in her direction, an action she found quite odd. Not to anyone's surprise, Hermione's hand shot into the air, the only student willing to answer.

"Anyone?" asked Snape, ignoring Hermione's hand. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between-"

"We told you," spoke up Pavarti Patil suddenly, another Gryffindor, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on-"

"Silence!" snarled Snape, making Marie and a few others flinch in their seats. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..."

Why? Why was he pursuing this subject? Marie could scarcely breathe. Was it perhaps some fault of hers? Did she upset her Head of House? She couldn't wrap her head around it. Was he trying to get Remus in trouble?

"Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air. Marie quickly looked back at her Gryffindor friend, trying to will her to keep her silence, just this once. She was just going to cause trouble for herself. Of course, Hermione couldn't allow Snape's threat of reporting their class to Dumbledore on false accounts of being behind in their lessons.

"The werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf-"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," Snape said coolly. Marie's stomach clenched again in fear for her friend. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione lowered her hand, face very red and stared down at the floor with eyes full of tears. Marie's face was equally flushed and the insult hurt her too. Hermione was only trying to keep them from trouble by proving that someone did know something about Snape's ridiculous lesson. The dark haired girl knew how Hermione worked tirelessly over her books, always improving herself. It was why Marie liked working with Hermione particularly. Their enthusiasm was on the same level and it was so refreshing to have a partner that operated on the same scale. So, Professor Snape's comment was like a slap to the face for all of their effort, making both girls flush with embarrassment.

Ron Weasley suddenly spoke up very loudly. "You asked us a question and she knew the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

Everyone knew instantly that he had gone too far, bodies tensed as Snape advanced on Ron slowly, intimidation rolling off him in waves. The entire room was holding their breath.

"Detention, Weasley," he said silkily, his face very close to the red haired third year. "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

Hearts pounding, the class was silent throughout the entire lesson. They took notes on werewolves while Professor Snape moved through the rows of desks, examining the work they had completed for Professor Lupin. It wasn't exactly examining, it was more like criticizing. Again.

"Very poorly explained...That is incorrect, the kappa is most commonly found in Mongolia...Professor Lupin gave this an eight out of ten? I would have given it a three.." Of course, he avoided checking the work of the Slytherin students, opting to belittle the Gryffindor's homework and previous essays instead.

Before they were dismissed from the lesson, after what felt like an eternity, Snape had one last announcement for the class.

"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves." Marie went terribly white once more. "I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

Slowly gathering her belongings and fitting her book back into her overstuffed bag with difficulty, Marie exited with the class but hung back to wait by the closed door. She certainly didn't want to seem like she was eavesdropping on the teacher's conversation with Ron Weasley about detention and talking back to a teacher. After five minutes of fretful waiting, the door opened and the Gryffindor stormed out, so mad that he didn't even seem to see her. Taking another breath, Marie peered inside, giving a little knock on the door.

"Professor?" she called quietly. The teacher was back behind the desk, shuffling through the piles of paperwork. "Do you have a moment, sir?"

"Come in, Miss Rogue," he permitted. "Close the door behind you." Nodding, she did as she was told and cautiously approached the desk and her Head of House. A moment passed in silence, her mouth suddenly dry and mind drawing a blank as to how she should ask her question. Raising a brow at the odd behavior, Snape set the papers down, hands folding and resting on top of the parchment.

"You wanted a moment of my time, Miss Rogue, and you have it. I suggest you use it appropriately."

"Have I done something wrong?" she blurted, words tumbling out in a rush. Her pulse picked up as he continued to watch her.

"No, you have not," he answered evenly.

"Then has Remus?" she asked, voice cracking slightly. There was a flicker of resentment, perhaps an awful memory, but the look faded as fast as it had appeared. It was enough for Marie to see. She stepped closer to his desk, voice rising in panic.

"Whatever happened, I'm sorry!" she apologized, her words coming out faster and rising in pitch. "But please, professor, please, can you not push the werewolf lesson? If people find out, Remus could lose his job! And it's so hard for him to find a job because of his condition, and at least here he's safe because you're able to make the potion, and Professor Dumbledore's here, and really, it's the best chance he's got, and if word got out then they could connect him to Tess and he'd be in so much trouble and then-" Snape held up his hand to quiet the rambling girl, who took the pause to catch her breath again.

"Miss Rogue, this is by no means your fault. You are not in any trouble," he stated plainly. She nodded in understanding.

"Then, sir, why werewolves? Why not, I don't know, vampires or banshees? You could have picked anything in the book, but you chose werewolves specifically," she said softly. "May I ask why, sir?"

Severus Snape studied the young girl before him. Clutching her over filled bag that threatened to split open, her wild dark hair and those green eyes that were every bit of Lily Evans. Her concern was a refreshing change of pace and she truly wanted to improve the situation and keep her precious former caretaker from trouble. He gave a sigh.

"What I will say about the matter, is that there was once a vicious prank performed by Lupin's group of friends that nearly killed me on a full moon. I do not need to elaborate on the details, do I?" She quickly shook her head, eyes wide as she listened. "So I find it very important for students to recognize the signs of werewolves, and if it manages to rile up Professor Lupin in the process, that's only an added benefit."

"But what if someone does find out?" she asked. "Someone like Hermione Granger could find out!"

"Then it would be the word of a student against Professor Dumbledore, as he finalizes all staff hirings," he explained. Some of the tension left her shoulders. That was a good point. No one would question Dumbledore and whom he deemed fit to teach at Hogwarts.

"That's right," she agreed. He returned to his paperwork.

"Best go before you miss lunch, Miss Rogue," encouraged the teacher. "Try to not over think this one."

"All right, thank you, professor." She was almost to the door when she stopped and turned around to face him again. "Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Rogue."

She waited a beat, debating. "I'm sorry, about the prank, I mean, but I promise that Remus had nothing to do with it. He would never intentionally hurt someone, you know."

"Be on your way, Miss Rogue."

"Yes, sir."

When the door closed behind her, the Potions master looked over at the picture frame Lupin had placed on his desk. A simply brown frame containing a moving picture of a younger Captain Tess and tiny Marie Rogue, both waving to the camera, absolutely beaming and happy. Taking a breath, Severus gently placed the photo face down.


The weather was positively horrendous that Saturday for the first Quidditch match of the season. Rain came down in heavy torrents, the wind snapping sodden cloaks as lightening forked the sky, thunder rumbling loudly. Marie ran out to the pitch with her classmates, trying to all fit under the large black umbrella Draco carried. The whole school turned out for the match, as was the popularity of the sport. Everyone was soaked through within seconds of stepping out onto the ground, but they simply set their jaws and prepared themselves to handle onslaught of rain.

Despite their efforts to run and the addition of the umbrella, the Slytherins were just as drenched as the players and ankle deep in mud by the time they had found their place in the stands. The two teams faced each other in scarlet red and canary yellow, Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory stepping forward to shake hands. The players mounted their brooms and there was a faint cry of Madame Hooch's whistle, allowing the players to take off.

Marie could hardly see a thing, they were just spots of color darting about in the darkening sky, it was as if night had come early with no sign of the sun at all. Giving up on using her binoculars, she had to settle with holding her hand above her flattened bangs to try and keep some of the water from running down her face and into her eyes. They couldn't even hear Lee Jordan's commentary over the roaring wind. She turned toward Draco, unable to follow the game properly.

"What's happening?" she asked, though she had to yell to even be heard.

"Gryffindor's fifty points up!" he shouted back. He pointed at the descending players. "Just called for time out!"

"At this rate, they'll be playing into the night!" she said. The blonde looked at her funny.

"What?" Stepping closer, she brought her hand next to her mouth to add to her volume.

"I said, they'll be playing into the night! They've got to find the Snitch fast!" He nodded in agreement.

"They better find the Snitch fast!" he told her. Amused by their shouting and looping conversation, Marie only shook her head as she folded her arms under her now heavy cloak. At least she had the sense to braid back her hair, that now resembled a wet rope more than anything but at least it was contained.

The players rose back up into the air with difficulty due to the turbulent force of the wind blowing them off course. Soon after there was another another bout of immense thunder, followed directly by a florescent flash of lightening. An odd figure caught the girl's eye and she brought her binoculars back up to make sure it wasn't a fault of her waterlogged vision.

Sitting up at the deserted top of the opposite stands was a large black dog.

Hands now numb from the cold, her fingers slipped and dropped the binoculars by accident. After fumbling for a moment and readjusting the setting, when she managed to check again the dog had vanished. Had she only imagined it?

Suddenly, the scarlet player she assumed was Harry took a dive, the Snitch finally spotted. Before she could become fully excited, relieved that the match was going to be over and they could go inside and warm up, an odd sort of silence fell over the stadium. Confused, she looked about to see if anything was out of the ordinary, besides that dog she swore she saw. Her breath caught in her chest when she realized what exactly was the matter.

Dementors.

At least a hundred of the dementors designated to protect the castle grounds had flooded the Quidditch pitch. Their smoke like bodies with their hoods drawn up so to hide their faces, clammy hands able to be seen from the sleeves. It was as if the world was muted out. The storm, thunder and cheering of the fans. Marie couldn't take a breath, chest tight as she stared on in horror. A new fear gripped her when she remembered that Harry was diving straight at them for the sake of the Snitch.

She didn't hear Draco call after her as she stumbled away from her friends, feet taking her to the stairs of the stands. She had to help Harry. She had...she had to get a teacher...the dementors weren't supposed to be there...

Then Harry was falling. Down toward the mass of dementors.

Marie wasn't aware of her feet tripping over themselves, or of herself tumbling down the steps. She didn't hear Pansy's shriek calling for her. She didn't feel Marcus shake her shoulder or help her into an upright position, head lolling back. She missed Dumbledore's spell that sent the dementors fleeing and how Harry's fall was magically slowed, safety insured.

The last thing she was aware of was a werewolf's hair rising howl and the gold flash of Tess' magic.

"Think Remus! We're your friends! Your family! Remember us!"


REVIEW! So, I have spotty internet at home but it is perfect for motivating! Onward, Marie! Conquer your third year!

All sorts of interesting bits, tension between characters and whatnot. Fun times lie ahead!

Next time: a chance to talk to Harry, a request of Professor Snape, and preparing for the winter holidays!

Hope you enjoyed!