A cool, midnight wind drifted through the Scottish Highlands. The leaves on the trees of the Forbidden Forest rustled. The moon casted streaks of light through the narrow gaps in the canopy of the forest. Far below, where the trees met the underbrush, was a shaggy black dog, trotting determinedly to the edge of the forest. The dog looked up the sloping lawns towards a castle, glowing from torchlight. The dog sniffed, then transformed into the ragged form of Sirius Black. Black smirked at the first place he considered home.

"Oh Hogwarts, how I've missed you. It's a shame I couldn't come under better pretenses," he muttered to himself, admiring the castle. Then, after relishing his return for another moment, he transformed back into the dog, and walked into the gloom of the forest, devising a plan.

At the same time, in the castle, within the almost empty Gryffindor common room, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were in heated discussion, whispering furiously. A letter sat on the table between them, having just been read by the both of them.

Dear Ron and Hermione,

I hope you lot are doing well. I think if I understand the headmaster correctly, as impossible as that sounds, I can tell you where I am, just not exactly where that place is on the map. I guess Dumbledore thought it would be best if I went to Beauxbatons, which is a magical school in France, in order to hide from Sirius Black. It's a beautiful place, but I think I prefer Hogwarts. Hopefully they catch Black soon. Send treacle tart, please.

Harry

"We should trust him, Ron! He's our headmaster! I'm sure wherever Harry is he's fine!" Hermione whispered angrily. Ron scowled. It was of his opinion that there was nowhere safer than Hogwarts, despite what Dumbledore said about England not being safe for Harry.

"Black's a nutter Hermione! Are we really supposed to believe the English Channel is going to stop him from getting Harry? And is Beauxbatons really that much safer than Hogwarts?" Ron retorted with annoyance. Hermione bit her lip anxiously.

"Oh I don't know! I mean, I think we should trust Dumbledore's judgement," Hermione said doubtfully. Ron shook his head. It was clear he wasn't going to get through to her. He hoped Black would be caught soon. He missed his best friend.

Harry was enjoying France. At least as much as one could while being hunted by a murderous lunatic. He liked his classes, especially Quidditch. It reminded him of the physical education classes he took in muggle primary school, except these courses had an emphasis on flying as well. For half the time, they would learn all sorts of offensive and defensive strategies while playing, as well as proper broom care and maintenance. The next half of the lesson would be done outside. They mostly ran drills or otherwise did some sort of physical conditioning. Harry found he hated conditioning, but couldn't argue with the Quidditch Professor, Coach Emilia Dominguez's reasoning.

"If you are to be flying at top speed high up in the air, your lungs must be as strong as they can be! That comes with conditioning and practice! Now get running!" She had barked the first day when Harry asked why they had to run a mile before being allowed to even think about touching their brooms. She was a tough woman, but fair. She reminded him a little bit of Professor McGonagall. Still, even with the conditioning, Quidditch was by far his favorite subject.

Just like at Hogwarts, when the teachers took role on the first day, they paused by his name. The professor's reactions at Beauxbatons were by no means nearly as strong as Harry's first day at Hogwarts, such as Professor Flitwick, who had toppled off of a pile of books he had been standing on when he read Harry's name.

Harry enjoyed his Charms, Transfiguration and Conjuration, History of the Magical World, and Magic Flora and Fauna classes immensely. His charms professor, Madame Leblanc, was a tall woman with dark hair and darker eyes. All of her movements were the epitome of grace, similar to a ballerina. She was gorgeous and Harry had to snap himself back to attention more than once while in her class. Her beauty matched her skills with charms, as she made an army of pencils sprout legs and do a sort of coordinated dance on her desk while having her desk keep beat by tapping one of its legs on the ground.

The transfiguration and conjuration professor was a wizened old man who went by Herr Weber and hobbled about with a cane. He was completely bald and like Professor Siniestro, seemed to always be smiling. While physically he seemed weak, in a demonstration in their first class, he transfigured each and everyone one of their desks into a herd of sheep with a tap of his cane on the ground. Then, with an equally light tap, the students' desks had returned. He had a sparkle in his hazel eyes that rivaled even Dumbledore's.

Harry's history teacher, Professor Marco D'angelo, was a peculiar fellow. He was awfully pale, and when he spoke, Harry swore he could see fangs. The only reason Harry had to believe that Professor D'angelo wasn't a vampire was the fact that the windows in his classroom were always open, and he appeared to not be bothered by sunlight.

The Magic Flora and Fauna professor, Professor Planzmamm was an old woman who seemed to always be wearing dense, woolen clothes meant for "intense gardening and pest removal" as she put it. She was rather friendly and loud even in her old age. She reminded Harry of a much shorter, much less hairy Hagrid.

One class he had been unconsciously dreading was brewing, simply for the fear that whoever his professor was would be exactly like Snape. It was a foolish thought. After all, what were the odds that both schools had a slime ball for a potions professor? As soon as he walked into his first potions class, he knew that the man was nothing like Snape. Even the classroom was a vastly different environment than the dank, dark dungeons of Hogwarts. The walls were made of some sort of marble, while the floor was a light stone. All of the windows were open and sunlight was streaming through. An older man with a salt and pepper beard stood at the front of the class. He was smiling warmly.

"Please sit, ladies and gentlemen," he said. His voice was deep and calm, but also had a hint of excitement. At each table, there were two seats and a cauldron. Harry sat near the front with Damien. Soon, everyone had filtered into the class and took their seats.

"Welcome to the first lesson of the year, ladies and gentlemen. I am Professor Adam Collins. Brewing, as you may know by now already, is both an art and a science. It is my job to teach you how to maintain that balance and make the best potions you can," he said. Harry leaned forward in anticipation. For the first time since he had begun his magical education, he would be taking a potions class that wasn't taught by someone who took pleasure in seeing him fail.

They began with a theory portion, where Professor Collins described various potion making techniques and ingredients and explained their importance. The second portion was more practical, where they would try to brew the potion of the week. Each potion was assigned based on the theory and incorporated the ingredients and techniques they had learned. Harry actually found himself enjoying a potions lesson for the first time ever.

Occlumency was somewhat disappointing. According to their teacher, Professor Gehirnmann, Occlumency was a very vague and difficult art to learn. It would take the average witch or wizard years to master. For the first semester at least, they would be focussing almost solely on meditation practices and theory. By the end of the first lesson, Harry felt his head swimming with all the different theories on how the mind worked with magic and the proper breathing patterns needed for meditation.

Harry found his Dark Arts teacher rather peculiar, which is saying something given the first tried to kill him and the second tried to erase his memories. He was a young man, probably around the same age as Gabriel. He wore mostly black, like Snape, but this man seemed to have a smile semi-permanently plastered to his face, which was slightly off-putting. He had taken a pause and glanced in Harry's direction when he had called his name, but had said nothing more until after he had finished with role call.

"Welcome to studying the dark arts, children! This course is designed to teach you about common dark arts and how to undo them. I warn you, the path we are about to embark on will not be easy. The dark arts is a multifaceted monster with infinite ways of attack! We must be equally flexible in our approach. The dark arts can appear in various ways. Curses, creatures, and… objects," Professor Siniestro said, casting his gaze in the direction of Harry.

"Mr. Potter, can you come up to the front of the room, please?" he asked, gesturing for Harry to come forth. Harry flushed a little bit at being singled out, but dutifully walked up to the front of classroom. "Can you raise your hair up so we can take a look at your scar?"

"Oh, uh, yeah I guess," Harry said anxiously, taken aback. He knew his scar was famous, but that made him no less comfortable when others pointed it out. Harry raised his bangs up to reveal his scar. Much of the class leaned forward or stood up, trying to get a good look at Harry's scar. Professor smiled with satisfaction.

"Fascinating. There is something awfully peculiar about your scar Mr. Potter, beyond the obvious. Do you have any idea what that might be?" Professor Siniestro asked, leaning in a little too closely for Harry's comfort. Harry knew there were a number things peculiar about his scar, particularly that a dark curse had left it on his forehead, but beyond that, he had no clue what Professor Siniestro was alluding to.

"Uh, no," Harry said shortly, leaning away from the professor. He was not really in the sharing mood and was getting tired of the stares very quickly. Professor Siniestro, who had been staring at the scar intently, suddenly shook from his stupor, recognizing Harry's irritation.

"Well, if Voldemort's repertoire is to be believed, it is likely he tried to kill you with one of the three classified unforgivable curses, the killing curse to be exact. Swift, instant, and unblockable. What interests me Mr. Potter, is that in all recorded history of this curse, it has never left any mark whatsoever on its victim. The exception, of course, is your scar," Professor Siniestro said with wonder. Harry felt uncomfortable, but questions began to pop up in his mind. If the curse that Voldemort casted usually left no marks, why did he have a scar? After a moment of silence in the class, Professor Siniestro excused Harry back to his seat and opened his arms wide.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is just a small example of the dark arts. It is a beast that cannot be killed, only held back, and each time it shows its ugly head, there is something new it brings to the table. Our approach to this subject must also be ever-evolving, because there is always something new or some sort of obscure exception. Now, let's get down to business," he said the excitement in his voice growing. The rest of the lesson was rather interesting, though Harry didn't like the furtive glances at his scar Professor Siniestro kept sending his way.

The first weekend was a breath of fresh air for Harry, who was already beginning to feel homesick for Hogwarts. He'd even missed trading insults with Malfoy, if only slightly. He had sent his first letter to Ron and Hermione early in the week, but hadn't received one back yet. He hoped dearly some sort of correspondence would come soon. Then there was the matter of Sirius Black. While he was certain he was safe at Beauxbatons, he worried for his friends at Hogwarts. Would Black discriminate in his hunt? Could he really breach Hogwarts, which was deemed as one of the safest places on earth? Damien helped Harry keep his mind off of his worries. His lightheartedness was a very nice contrast to the intrusive thoughts Harry would get while sitting in his dorm alone.

"Come on, Tío! It's your first weekend at Beauxbatons! You can't spend your whole time moping in the dorm!" Damien said exasperatedly, tugging on Harry's arm. Harry scowled.

"I'm not moping!" Harry protested weakly. He was moping and he knew it.

"You are and you know it, Harry. You're not fooling anyone," Damien replied, crossing his arms and smirking. Harry huffed and shook his head.

"Well some raving lunatic is after me! I think I have good reason to mope," Harry said. Damien rolled his eyes.

"But you're not in England, my friend. There's no way Black could even figure out you're here. Ah! There's Hedwig! I bet your friends at Hogwarts wrote you back," Damien said, pointing out the window. Indeed Hedwig was flying to the window, a letter tied to her leg. The sight of his owl filled him with excitement. She flapped into the room and landed on Harry's shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"I hope you had a good flight, girl. I know it's a little farther than your normal trips," Harry said, Hedwig bobbed her head and hooted in agreement. Along with the letter, Hedwig also had a small package clutched in her claws. Harry grinned. It seemed Hermione and Ron had pulled through with his request of treacle tart.

Harry,

Ron and I were so pleased to hear from you! I for one am quite jealous that you are studying at Beauxbatons. I've read about them and they're really prestigious! Are your classes interesting? Send details!

It's been awfully quiet around here. Everyone is nervous about Sirius Black and the ministry has even stationed dementors, which guard the prison Azkaban, at every entrance to the school! They're ghastly creatures. They look like hooded figures and whenever you go near them, you get this cold feeling, like you'll never be cheerful again. Dumbledore dislikes having them around, I can tell. Classes are the same as usual, though my course load is quite a bit larger than last year, but I'm managing. We'll keep you updated on the Sirius Black situation. I miss you, Harry!

Hey Harry, it's Ron. Hermione kind of already went through it, but we're doing well. I don't really know how Hermione is coping, considering some of her classes are happening at the same time, but she's Hermione. I'm sure she's got it figured out somehow. Those dementors are bloody scary, mate. One boarded the train on our way to Hogwarts and the new DADA professor, Lupin, sent it away with this spell. It was wicked! He's brilliant, too. Knows all sorts of stuff about dark creatures and the like.

Dad says it's only a matter of time before we catch Black, so just hold tight, Harry! I can't imagine he'd get very far if he tried to come to Hogwarts. How's the food at Beauxbatons? I've never been one for French cooking, but I hope it's not too bad. Write back soon, mate!

Sincerely,

Ron and Hermione

Harry grinned. Of course Hermione would be taking a super heavy course load. Just reading their letter made him a little less homesick. He was about to pull out some parchment in order to start drafting a response when another owl flew through the window and landed on the table he and Damien were sitting at. The owl lifted its leg expectantly while Hedwig hooted with annoyance.

"My, aren't you popular today," Damien said, untying the letter from the owl and handing it to Harry. The back of the letter was addressed to him in purple ink.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I wish to apologize for our first interaction in class. I recognize that what I did was rather unbecoming of a teacher and I hope I did not single you out too much amongst your peers. I would hope you could join me for a pot of tea today around noon today if you are not too busy. There are a few things I wish to discuss with you. Please send your response via with this owl.

Sincerely,

Professor Salvador Siniestro

"Well it looks like he wants to apologize. Quite right, too. He really didn't do you any favors in that class," Damien said. Harry chuckled.

"Trust me, it wasn't the worst interaction I've had with a teacher, though it was rather awkward. I think I'll go. Care to join me?" Harry asked, relieved he had something to do. Damien shook his head.

"No, I don't think I will, amigo. I think I'll go bully Lucette and Maria into hanging out. It's too nice of a day to be stuck indoors," Damien said, standing up. Harry shrugged.

"I'll join you later, then. See you," Harry said and Damien left. Harry stood after packing away the two letters and jotting a quick response, confirming he'd be coming for tea. The professor's owl took off through the window. Hedwig hooted at him reproachfully.

"Don't worry, girl. I'll get this letter written tonight and send it off tomorrow, okay? Why don't you go find where the other owls spend their time and I'll find you when I need you. Take a rest, yeah?" Harry said, gently stroking his owl's head. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. Then, with an affectionate nibble of his finger, Hedwig took off, soaring around the castle.

Similarly to Hogwarts, the weekend was a time when the students didn't have to abide but the usually dress code, which Harry appreciated. While the blue robes were rather comfortable, he didn't like the garish nature of the uniform. He threw on some muggle clothes he had piled in his trunk and made his way through Beauxbatons, trying to find Professor Siniestro's office. While more organized than Hogwarts, there were still many offices for the various Dark Arts staff. One friendly witch had finally pointed him in the right direction, and he knocked on Professor Siniestro's door.

"It's open." he heard from the inside. He opened the door and stepped into the office. Harry was reminded of a laboratory of sorts. Along the walls were newspaper clippings detailing various dark arts or activities of dark wizards. A number of them were from England, detailing attacks by Voldemort or his followers. The center of the room was occupied by a large desk with a muggle lamp that flickered with light, though didn't appear to be plugged into anything. Behind the desk was a large safe with an old-looking vault door.

"Ah Mr. Potter. I am glad you could join me. Please sit," Professor Salvador said, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk. He had just finished pouring a cup for each of them.

"Thank you, professor. May I ask what this is about?" Harry said uncertainly. He didn't feel that Professor Siniestro needed to apologize in person.

"Our first class, of course. If you remember correctly, I said there was something peculiar about your scar. While my conduct may not have been the most appropriate, I was quite serious. Theoretically, your scar shouldn't exist if you were struck with the killing curse," Professor Siniestro stated simply. Harry shrugged, unsure how to respond. He had no answers for the professor.

"I don't really remember that night. Only a lot of green light," Harry said. Professor Siniestro nodded in understanding, then drew his want and pointed it at a dummy in the corner.

"Avada Kadavra," he said simply. A bolt of green light shot from his wand like a bullet and struck the dummy in the chest. Harry shot from his chair, the green light reminding him of the many nightmares he had over the years. He could almost hear the cruel cackling as the green light faded. While struck with the spell, nothing happened to the dummy as far as Harry could see.

"I take it by your reaction that this was indeed the spell Voldemort attempted to cast on you that night many years ago. If this is so, then you shouldn't have had any sort of scar to speak of from that night. Fascinating…" Professor Siniestro muttered, staring intently once more at Harry's scar.

"What does it mean?" Harry asked nervously. Professor Siniestro leaned back in his chair speculatively and shrugged.

"Haven't the slightest, yet. I must do some research. I promise that as soon as I find out anything, you will be the first to know. Now, do you take cream and sugar?" He asked, raising the pot of tea.

A.N.

WHEW! Hey everyone! How's it going! Where the hell have I been, right? Well, I took a long break from writing as I graduated high school and moved on the college. The last year for me has been quite a blur and I've been doing so much, but now I'm back to writing! Hopefully I can begin to maintain a steady schedule, whatever that may be. I appreciate you all sticking with me and if you want to follow me more closely, I now have a twitter with the handle the same as my username! Hope you enjoyed!