A/N: Okay, first and foremost, I am so, so sorry that it has taken me so long to get another chapter of this posted. It was never my intention for such a long hiatus, but to be honest, I hit a wall, and then life got in the way. That said, I've got back into the swing of things and am going to be getting back to it! Thank you so much for your patience, and as always all the loyalty and feedback is much appreciated. And as an extra note, the world is a really scary place right now, and I am sending everyone love and hoping you're all doing okay and staying safe x.

Easter holidays were approaching quickly, and with every day that passed, change seemed to hang in the air. Each day that passed without any incident involving Sirius Black was another the dementors weren't allowed past the gates. They were keeping their distance, and while it wasn't a perfect solution by any means, nobody within the castle had it in them to complain. Rumors were abound, sighting the man in various cities; Dufftown was the closest, though nothing had come of Auror searches.

At least so far as the Prophet seemed to be reporting, anyway. Nobody seemed willing to put up a fight to the contrary, regardless of the fact dementors were still present near the grounds. They had become a fixture in recent months whether any of the students (or the professors, for that matter) liked it or not.

Not that it did much good to have them, really; he had gotten past them twice and made it not only into the castle, but into Gryffindor tower. As fantastic as dementors seemed to be at draining the life and joy from anywhere at any given time, they were proving incapable of catching the criminals they were responsible for; maybe Azkaban needed new guards.

How had he gotten into the castle?

There was no shortage to how many times it had been asked. Gossiping underclassmen and the girls in the sixth year dorm had mentioned it more than once, each theory more ludicrous than the last.

While the younger students didn't seem to know any better, Victoria had made it her mission to silence Eloise and Natalie with a simple look whenever Cassi returned to the tower. They had never spoken enough to be considered friends, but she felt a surge of gratitude for Victoria's efforts. It was unexplainable even to herself, the impact Sirius Black's break-ins had on her, but having someone in her dorm willing to respond without the questions clearly brimming at the surface was a relief.

Maybe more surprising than Victoria's lack of questions was Gemma's silence on the subject. An escaped madman that Cassiopeia had a perverse fascination with had made it into the tower with a knife standing over Ron Weasley, and her theories had all come to an end. Always the gossip, with more opinions than could be reasonably counted, Gemma Farley. Silent.

Cassiopeia couldn't help wondering if her disinterest came from trying to veer the McKinnon witch away from the obsession altogether. Their talk in the astronomy tower was not lost on her, nor was the promise to try and move past constantly thinking about Black. She had been trying, to her credit, regardless of Emmeline's shocking present. The photograph of Marlene McKinnon laughing with Black was burned into her memory on a loop, unending and constant. Seemingly teasing each other the way Cass and the boys did every day.

They really had been friends.

A suspecting, heavy part of her mind wondered if Gemma's silence was for a worse reason. She was growing quieter than usual, her face paling every morning as mail was delivered, almost as if she was waiting for something far worse than a killer's appearance. Cass knew her father was in bad health, despite Gemma's desperation to keep it from their friends. Much as she hated to even think it, Cassiopeia knew it was only a matter of time.

Yet even with the rumors and questions circulating at every turn, time appeared in no hurry of slowing down. As the holidays drew closer, so did exam week - something that was not lost on anyone. Gossip seemed to subside in exchange for studying and note sharing in every visible nook of the grounds. The library became inexplicably crammed as students of each year felt the pressure to memorize every incantation, every facet of information from class that they could.

With exams and Easter holidays drawing closer the air took on a new, tangible sensation. Nobody was immune to the shift. Soon enough, another year at Hogwarts would be ending. Life would continue regardless; it wouldn't matter that dementors were guarding every entrance to the castle, or that Gryffindor tower had now been broken into twice. Another year would be gone, added into the castle's strange history without so much as a second glance. Sirius Black would remain an enigma, haunting the minds of those who had too many questions and so few answers. But the world would move on.

It was something that Cassiopeia had thought to bring up, when she arrived in the history of magic classroom at eight, on the last Wednesday before the holidays. Lupin would offer no answers, as had become the expectation, but she had determined not to let her resolve disappear. Emmeline's photograph was burned permanently into her memory, just as the vague words everyone had spoken were.

Sirius Black had known her mother. Had known her godparents, her professor. He had known them all.

Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, and broken into Hogwarts more than once. He wanted Harry, and if Mary was to be believed, he wanted her. But why?

And then, more recent, a fact that several trips to the library and unsent letters to Emmeline had caused her to remember: Sirius Black never stood trial. He went straight to prison, the Wizengamont be damned. It was unheard of. In no other recorded wizarding history had it happened. She wanted to know why.

Surely it would explain what Reginald had said once, months before. He had never given a true confession. His sanity had never wavered. There had to be an explanation for that, no matter what it was. Even the nastiest of Death Eaters from the war had been tried before the Wizengamont; so why the hell had Black been denied? Her research had shown nothing useful. Infuriating. Impossible.

That evening, when she arrived for a boggart lesson, Cassiopeia walked through the door right in time to see the greying professor leveling the suitcase onto Binns' desk. It had seemed strange in the beginning, keeping such a creature in something so tame, but it had been explained easily enough. So long as there was something to contain a boggart until it took the form of a person's fear, it didn't matter what object that was. Curious, but no longer surprising.

"Ah, right on time." Lupin offered a pleasant smile as he straightened, gesturing to the area in front of the desk. "Ready to get started?"

"Actually, sir, I had a question first. If you don't mind." She drew in a sharp breath as she came to a pause. It suddenly felt very stupid; what was a proper excuse? Being in the history of magic classroom made her wish for answers to a case from over a decade before? For something she was meant to no longer be thinking about, no less.

Brilliant, McKinnon. Really.

The professor raised a curious eyebrow and rested against the desk, "I suppose we have some time. What's on your mind?"

There she was, hesitating again. Bloody idiot. Her shoulders slouched as she exhaled, the heavy breath finally escaping. Suddenly, Cassi was acutely aware of how tired Lupin appeared to be. Of course, he always looked infinitely more torn than the other teachers, but this was different; almost resigned. There seemed to be even more grey in his features than in recent weeks, a startling realization. She didn't enjoy it.

What she wanted to ask was obvious. Sirius Black. They were always about Sirius Black. It was getting idiotic, really. So much for her damned promise to Gemma to stop obsessing; as if that could happen.

He had been friends with her mother, her godparents, Emmeline. And he had been friends with Lupin, hadn't he? Mentioned in passing, yes, but that didn't erase it. Surely that meant the deflection had come as a surprise to him, too. Was it obvious? Had her mother died by that time? Why cut off Pettigrew's finger? Had they ever found the body?

So many questions.

And then, instead, "- it's silly. I just…" Another sharp inhale, without realizing it. "Professor, how do you think Black's gotten in so many times? Nowhere is meant to be safer than Hogwarts, that's what everybody says. But it's three times now even with the dementors, and I can't help but wonder if maybe that means he's...here somehow."

Way to sound like a bloody moron.

Lupin hesitated. It wasn't obvious, really, but Cassiopeia saw it all the same. He nodded slowly, letting out a sigh. "I'm sure you know that security has been tightened since the last time. You have no reason to worry. By now, he's been into the tower far too many times not to be expected again." He paused, yet again. Holding back, again. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much more."

A heavy knot tightened in her stomach. It was hard to tell if it was because of concern for herself and Harry, or for Sirius Black himself. One was more logical than the other; and yet for some bleak, nauseating reason, the latter seemed more likely.

Of course she didn't feel any better.

"Right." Cassi mumbled, shoving a stubborn curl behind her ear, barely noticing as it pushed back to its original space as she reached into her pocket for her wand. "Guess I'm ready to start, then." A lump formed in her throat. She forced it down.

Professor Lupin nodded and his own shoulders seemed to deflate as he flicked his wand, unlocking the trunk. The lid flew open as the familiar grey matter spun quickly in midair as it materialized. It took less than a second. Then suddenly, it wasn't the expected dementor floating before her, but something far worse.

Prison robes, ratty and torn with age, hung loosely around his thin frame, black hair matted limply around his face. He staggered to a halt, black eyes glazed over as he looked over the room before his gaze landed on Cassiopeia. They were dead, empty, unlike the expressions she had seen in photographs - this was an expression that chilled her. Madness had become him. Sirius Black.

A heavy feeling of dread settled into her stomach like dead weight. Light eyes blurred, staring fixedly on the vacant expression of the man in front of her. In her hand, her wand had begun shaking and she staggered backwards a step. Rational thought disappeared as she felt her thigh jam hard against a desk. With every step she stumbled backwards, Black strode toward her, his skeletal arm stretching out toward her.

Fear had consumed her, far differently than the dementors. Differently than the memory of Harry, falling rapidly toward the ground in a storm, worse than nearly collapsing with each new invasion of Black into Gryffindor tower. This was visceral, all consuming terror. Every doubt and question flew from her mind at the sight of him this way, the rabid prisoner, reaching for her with the same hands rumored to have killed so many people.

"Riddikulus!" Rang through the air a moment later, cutting through her panicked silence like a blade as her professor suddenly stepped in front of her. The image changed instantaneously, Black disappearing as a full moon appeared, the enchantment creating a balloon that flew directly into the trunk and resealed itself.

Blood pounded in Cassi's ears as heavy breaths wracked through her body. Her legs gave out and her hands gripped into the sides of the nearest desk as she collapsed into a chair. A clattering sound was the only indication she had dropped her wand, knuckles turning bone white. It took a moment longer to realize the heaving breaths were sobs coursing through her body.

So much for controlling her fear.

Somewhere nearby there was a tired sigh, and something she thought was her wand appeared on the desk between her hands; her vision was blurry enough it was hard to tell.

"Well, then." She heard Lupin sigh, and her eyes shut firmly. "It's gone, Miss McKinnon. Everything is okay." The voice was quiet, comforting, and it was all she could do to nod in response.

What an idiotic response. The boggart was not Sirius Black - and even if he was, hadn't her recent questions made her entertain the inane thought he was innocent? She had thought those alone meant she wasn't as afraid as she had expected. That her reactions in the tower and the hospital were over exaggerated. But then, if he was after Harry, then he had to be dangerous regardless of her opinions on his actions in the past.

So many convoluted and unfounded thoughts over a killer. Maybe she really was going mad.

Cassiopeia nodded, shakily taking in a deep breath, and then another, and another. It took several minutes before she could control her breathing and open her eyes, and several blinks before she could see properly. When she finally did, Lupin was knelt beside her watching in a curious expression. Concern, mostly. And something else, something that she couldn't quite place.

"I think that's enough for tonight." He spoke softly as he rose, placing a square of chocolate on her desk. "Even if it wasn't a dementor, eating will help you feel better. And I would suggest going down to the kitchens for some tea, I'm sure the elves won't mind," there was a glint of familiarity in his grey eyes for a flickering second, and then it was gone. "Take all the time you need."

Cass nodded again. Anything she could say, or think to ask, was no longer in her thoughts. What could she say, after an episode like that? As it was, she didn't entirely know why she had reacted like that.

They remained in silence, Cassiopeia taking small bites at the chocolate. The professor said nothing, offering only his silent company as she calmed down. It was an appreciated gesture, if not thoroughly embarrassing.

"Professor," she finally spoke, voice thick from crying. "Why do you think it changed? The dementor?"

Lupin took a moment longer to respond, mulling. "I suspect it's partially because we spoke of him beforehand." He offered quietly. Suddenly, she was struck with the realization of what his expression reminded her of. Not only concern, but...sadness.

But why?

"One of my mother's friends sent me a photograph before the last trip to Hogsmeade." She spoke, voice rough and vision slowly returning to normal. Lupin gave her a curious expression, and instantly Cassiopeia was met with the urge to look away. Why was she so bloody afraid to say it out loud? "Sirius Black and my mother were together. Laughing, friends...they looked my age. Actually, it looked as if they were more than-but that's silly, isn't it? I mean, if my mum was involved with him, someone would have told me, wouldn't they?"

Suddenly, she felt very small. All too aware of her age, how desperately she wanted to be told it wasn't true. That her first instinct was wrong, that Marlene hadn't gotten involved with a man sent to prison for betraying his friends and orphaning a child. Her mother had to have been the good person she had always heard about. She needed her to be that woman, more than anything else.

Lupin remained silent, seeming at war with himself. It sent a surge of unease deep into her stomach, roiling with the aftermath of her hysteria. He sighed. "I'm afraid the Sirius I knew was not the man he truly was. As such, I hope you can understand why I don't see it's my place to speak of him now."

Silence fell heavily over the classroom once again. Time seemed to stall into a halt, the seconds ticking by at a glacial pace. Desperately, she wanted to ask more, demand answers; obviously, nobody seemed keen to give her any, but that didn't change the desperation to have them.

Moments passed. And then, as the clock tower rang in a new hour from the distance, Professor Lupin and Cassiopeia went their separate ways.

The few days that followed, leading to Easter holidays, seemed to pass in a blur. Hard as she tried, Cassiopeia couldn't manage to find Lupin anywhere to ask for another lesson. The Dementors were keeping their distance, yes, but in order to return home for the break she would have to pass them. What good would she be in that case, should she hear that forsaken crying again?

He seemed to be avoiding her nearly more than Eric. Every trip to his office was met with a sealed door and the insistence that he was far too busy, classes ended abruptly with no chance to stay after; the disappearing act he seemed so fond of continued to multiply. It was infuriating, though soon enough there was no time to think about it.

Homework tripled as the holiday loomed closer, essays piling on top of each other, the knowledge that exams would be conducted as soon as classes resumed hanging heavily above their heads. Much of the days leading to the train ride to London became consumed with Cassiopeia and Gemma tucked into the library, piles of notes continually shoved between them, quiet debates between the difference in Inferi and zombification taking more time than the assignments themselves.

Cedric joined when he could, kissing her forehead with every meeting and charming a quill to rewrite every unorganized note Gemma had taken, ensuring it was legible. It wasn't often, to both of their dismay, largely because of Quidditch. Practices had kept him occupied more than ever before, reenforcing the unspoken worry that their circle was no longer four, but two. Gemma would never say it, but Cass could see it bothered her just as much. At least with Cedric, there was an explanation.

It was getting harder to enjoy Hogwarts.

The clouds were so dark and heavy they appeared more black than could possibly be natural. A deep chill hung in the air, clinging to everything it touched; trees bristled impatiently against it.

Dark. Far too dark. Entirely too cold for April.

Instinctively, the young witch wrapped her arms around herself to brace against the heavy wind. Where was she? It was impossible to tell. Even the ground beneath her feet felt wrong, tilted, uneven. Light eyes drifted upwards toward the sky, squinting to peer through the clouds, desperately seeking the familiar constellations she knew by heart.

There were no stars.

Suddenly, Cassiopeia was all too aware that her wand was missing. Why in the hell was her wand missing? It was the first thing she reached for every morning, any time she left a room - rules about minors using magic be damned, she felt better to have it. And it was gone.

The trees before her bristled, pulling her attention reluctantly from the sky just in time to see a pair of figures emerge from the trees. First to register was achingly familiar, yet so far away, a stranger she recognized too easily.

"Mum." The word cracked, and Cassiopeia felt her throat thicken. Marlene McKinnon, standing in front of her, hair hanging effortlessly against her shoulders. Her eyes, so well known from countless photographs, no longer held the laughter Cass had grown so used to - empty. Afraid.

It was then she realized who stood beside her, and once again the ground seemed to shift, violent and nearly sending her to her knees.

Sirius Black.

Her mouth opened, likely to scream. The image was haunting, the hollow man in ratty prison robes with his fingers tight around Marlene's arm. A dead sort of malice in his expression. He was going to hurt her.

No. No, no, no, no, no-

She awoke with a violent shudder, limbs flailing in all directions as she shot upright. Hair clung to skin, slick with sweat, shoulders shuddering. The sobs wracked through her with no regard for breathing, eyes flickering desperately to anything she could see - anything to remind her that she was not in that void again.

Gryffindor curtains hung around her, sealed tight. For a moment, Cass wondered why none of the girls had responded. Had her nightmares become that frequent? And then she remembered. Not everyone had returned from the holiday early; three days of the break remained, but Cassiopeia had made it back to the castle the night before.

Bloody hell.

The welcome back had been more than she anticipated, Harry eagerly meeting her with a hug the moment she entered the portrait hole; Hermione waved tiredly from a table, buried in books. Even Neville seemed pleased to see her return. They had asked, of course, why she was back early. It was a justified question; early returns were so rare the train never made more than the scheduled trips. Reginald had to contact Dumbledore to enable a fireplace in McGonagall's study, allowing her a safe return.

It was foolish, but it was necessary. Much as she loved her godparents, being home had become a bit suffocating - her sister's arrival was looming closer, and with it, more baby furniture and toys seemed to be appearing by the day. The room that shared her wall seemed to have vomited enough pink to last anyone a lifetime, and while it was exciting, it was…strange. Made worse by the fact Sirius Black remained a constant though.

Emmeline had yet to respond to her.

The dreams had stopped, for a short time, but returned the moment she fell asleep in the Cattermole house. Losing sleep made it hard enough to enjoy the visit, and that was without adding worry to Mary; she was growing far too pregnant to afford that.

She lasted all of a week.

Hogwarts held a different sort of magic over holidays, when the castle was devoid of nearly all its students. Silence held a different, special sort of meaning then. Peaceful. A word so rarely used to describe the glorious school, particularly in recent years.

Gryffindor tower remained loud and raucous as ever, a pleasant and welcomed surprise. Oliver kept the team busy, and it was easy to realize he would keep them all on the pitch every waking hour, if he could. More often than not, Harry and the twins would trudge in covered in mud, either laughing together or grumbling as they headed up the stairs.

"No time for rest!" Wood said one morning at breakfast, pouring his third cup of pumpkin juice. The great hall was nearly empty, save for Flitwick and Sprout, a spattering of students in each house that had remained over the holiday. "It's against Slytherin, we have to be ready. They'll study once we've won and thank me for it."

Laughing seemed the safer option to a debate. It was a comfortable distraction, and for that, Cass welcomed it greatly. In her desire to find ways to occupy her time, it wasn't until the day before term was to return she realized Lupin had yet to reappear. Had he disappeared again, off campus this time? No, Harry told her, Hermione had seen him.

So where was he?