FFN Response: GF, if you want responses to your comments, you need to allow responses. Or make your comments where I publish on AO3. Though to answer your question about conjuring, there is a progression to learning spells, you need to learn them in order to better control your magic. It isn't above his power level, it's just not something they teach to first-years. That's why I had him learn how to do something smaller and with less thinking power first, like a beetle. Also… how did Draco do it in his canon second-year? Well, for starters, he was in his second year, Harry is in his first. Also, he had Snape's help. In the dueling club incident, Snape instructed him to cast the spell.

Unsettling Discoveries

Deep below the streets of London, hidden from prying eyes and deep enough not to interfere with the Underground or sewer systems of the muggles scurrying around above lay the British Ministry of Magic. The days of castles and wizarding towers had long since passed and the invention of indoor sunlight enchantments and vacation-worthy windows kept the underground operations of wizards happy and content.

However, the location of the British Ministry of Magic had existed for a long time before its inception or even some of the original wizard councils. It existed before the previously mentioned castles and wizarding towers. Truthfully, it even existed before the Holy Roman Empire came to these shores. The original construction was built on top of what had now become the Department of Mysteries. Even before it was the DoM, it was laboratories, research, and ritual chambers of ancient wizards investigating the secrets of magic itself. Now, many of the lower ritual chambers had now been turned into courtrooms, holding cells, and training rooms for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

However, that wasn't important now. As above the atrium is where all the action took place. Stretching up eight floors above the Fountain of Magical Brethren were offices for all the departments in the British Ministry. Department heads typically had offices that overlooked the atrium below, while most lesser departments and lesser workers were situated further from the atrium in hallways that stretched off further and further from the center.

In most cases, it was always better to not use magical expansion charms when possible. The malfunctioning of such a charm would mean the almost certain destruction of anything inside it. This was particularly relevant to rooms that contained records and other storage. For every department in the ministry, dozens of storage rooms contained the entire history of the people that worked there and the actions they had performed since the founding of the Ministry. In that regard, many of the rooms on every floor above the atrium were used to file documents, items, artifacts, and secrets.

There were many clerks, who were unlucky enough to work there, sometimes due to their parentage, other times due to making enemies of the wrong person, who worked in these file rooms, organizing them, retrieving them for their supervisors, filing them away to never be seen again, in many cases. No one who worked in these jobs was there by choice.

Though today, there was someone else rushing from room to room, who was quite unexpected to be there; The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. His lime-green bowler hat seemed stuck to his head, but he had long since abandoned his coat, his white shirt was soaked with sweat, and his suspenders were down at his side as he rushed from one filing cabinet to another. There were whispers among the clerking staff of what could be so important that Big Fudge himself was down here looking for it, but no one had any idea.

This was wrong, it was all wrong. Fudge had gone to the clerk in the DMLE looking for the trial transcript of Sirius Black, but they came back to say it wasn't there. That was three days ago. He had ordered the girl to get back in there and find it, and she spent three full days looking for it and could only come up with his arrest record.

Fudge could give two hoots about the arrest record. He was there, he knew what had happened, staring at the crater in the middle of the street, with bits and pieces of muggles all around the street. It was horrific. The file that the clerk brought him even had his signature on some of the papers for evidence gathering and work to fix the scene properly for when the muggle investigators were allowed to look in on the site. The last thing he could find in the file was a transfer for Sirius Black to a holding cell, signed by old Barty Crouch.

This was worth his sweat and labor, to dig through all the possible places where the trial transcript could have ended up, he couldn't disappoint Harry Potter. If he came back empty-handed, he could just see the headlines: Potter Speaks: Fudge is a Buffoon!

That couldn't be allowed to happen. However, after a full day of looking through related files, he could find nothing. All he had was the arrest record, File 1981-0803-LE-SB1. However, nowhere could he find SB2. When he stopped for lunch, he sat in the clerk's cafeteria eating the bland food these workers got and trying to figure out his next step.

Everyone in the room was shooting him glances as he ate, but only one worker approached him, slipping down next to him and slapping him on the back.

"Minister Fudge!" the man said joyfully. "How kind of you to join us down here in the salt mines. I'm sure I speak for everyone here when I say how much of a morale boost we get to see that you are capable of hard work, just like us."

Fudge didn't recognize the man, probably in his 30s, with blonde hair and a patchy beard, but he tried to put on his smiling 'man-of-the-people' persona and responded.

"Well, as I'm sure you know, every job has its ups and downs. Sometimes you just need to get back your roots to improve how things run. I'll be doing this in other departments over the next few weeks just to see how well the ministry runs."

"That's great to hear!" he said loudly, then leaned in close. "We both know that's bollocks. You're looking for something, and I know it. I've never seen a cover of the Prophet that says, 'Fudge: Just Like the Rest of Us.' If I can find what you're looking for, you can get me and my team out of this endless nightmare of the file rooms."

This had to remain a secret, but that's what oaths were for, "How many on your team?" he asked.

"Four, including me."

"Get them and meet me in the Head Clerk's office."

Fudge abandoned his plate and went over to the office, telling the man and his secretary to take the next hour off. Ten minutes later, there was a knock, and the man from earlier along with two brunette women who looked like twins and a burly boy, probably just out of school, entered the room.

"So? Do you think you can help me out? Where do you want to go if you succeed?"

One of the twins spoke up, "We want somewhere cushy, Centaur Liaison Office or Misuse of Muggle Artifacts."

"You'll still all be clerks there," Fudge told them.

"That's fine," the other twin said. "Anywhere is better than here."

"If you want to help me, you'll need to swear a secrecy oath," Fudge told them.

"Let me see it," the blonde man said.

Fudge had written up a quick oath while waiting for them.

The man took it and read it over, "Standard, don't tell anyone who isn't in this room, blah blah, I don't like the clause of obliviation if we can't find it…" he looked to his people, "Are you lot ok with this?"

"It beats this gig," the big guy said. "I haven't been here as long as the rest of you, but I'd rather forget that I tried and failed to get out than remember that I lost the opportunity." The two girls nodded along.

"Fine," the blonde man said. "But we need an oath from you as well that if we find what you're looking for, you'll deliver on your end of the agreement."

The next thirty minutes, Fudge and the team of misfit clerks hammered out and closed loopholes on the appropriate oaths, and then swore them. Then he passed the files along to their leader.

"I need you to find all files associated with this one," Fudge passed the arrest record of Sirius Black to the man.

He opened the file and scanned it for a few seconds before chuckling, "You lost the paperwork for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's right hand?" the big guy asked as he looked over onto the file.

"Someone did," Fudge responded. "I'll add a cherry on our agreement, no oath. If you can find out who misplaced the files, 50 galleons to each of you."

That was a nice cherry.

So, without any of them exchanging names, the group of misfit clerks left the room. Fudge took the Head Clerk's floo back to his office and used his private bathroom to freshen up after spending so much time in the trenches.

Just before the end of the day on Friday, Fudge's secretary came into his office with a strange look on her face.

"There are four clerks from the file rooms here to see you," she said. "They didn't give their names and they don't have an appointment."

"Send them in, send them in at once," Fudge told her.

As soon as the group was inside, Fudge told the hidden auror in the corner to leave, then sealed the room.

"Would you like anything? Something to eat, something to drink?" he asked.

"Something expensive," one twin said with a smile.

"To eat and drink," the other said.

Fudge called an elf and brought a spread of cured meats and expensive whiskeys to the room. After waiting patiently for a few minutes for them to have some snacks, Fudge demanded, "Well? What did you find?"

"We found two files. Only two files," the blonde man said. He placed the first one on the minister's desk.

The file number was 1981-0803-LE-SB2. Fudge opened it up to find a single piece of parchment that held the receipt of a transfer order for Sirius Black to the holding facility at Holy Island.

That's when fudge began to panic. Holy Island lay on the east side of England and was the location for the holding facility where prisoners were kept before they were transferred to Azkaban prison. They needed to wait there until the shipping lane was open that allowed passage to the prison. Notes on the paper stated that Black spent his time there laughing and crying, and repeating over and over, "I need to get Harry! Harry is next!"

The next file was placed in front of Fudge which had the number 1981-0814-LE-SBΩ.

SBΩ. Omega. That was the final file for Sirius Black. It contained his transfer papers to Azkaban, his mugshot, and nothing else.

Sirius Black had never had a trial. Fudge couldn't care less about the man. Now he had to report to The-Boy-Who-Lived that he wouldn't get any answers to his questions. Even worse, a member of the Blacks was put in prison without a trial… Arcturus would string him up in the streets.

"We delivered on our end," the blonde man told Fudge. "It looks to me like this is a huge problem. I don't think any paperwork was lost, but the man responsible seems to be the one whose signature lies on the first transfer order, Bartemius Crouch Senior." He pointed to the man's signature. "Are you ready to fulfill the end of your bargain?"

Fudge pulled out four files and a bag of coins, "There are four transfer orders here. Two go to the Centaur Liaison Office, and two to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Division. My signature is already on them, you decide who goes where. I don't want to see any of you ever again."

"Good doing business with you, Minister Fudge." The man took the files and the money and the four of them left the office.

What to do now? He needed to speak to someone, but who? Malfoy was out, he had told the man he could never be seen with him again. Just hearing the man's voice in his head he knew that Malfoy would say, 'Just have him kissed, accidents happen all the time in Azkaban.' Dumbledore was out too just because he hated to have to owe one to the man. The only person who he could speak to about this was also the one man who would probably kill him for this blunder, Lord Arcturus Black.

He poured himself a stiff drink and summoned a messenger elf. He asked for Lord Black to be summoned to his office with the utmost urgency. Once the elf was gone, he drained his glass and poured another. As he sipped from the next one, his elf popped back in to tell him to expect Lord Black in the next thirty minutes along with Agustus Stevens.

Fudge called in a team of elves to prepare a spread of food and drinks, and as they were disposing of the spread he had brought for the team of clerks, he had a rare moment charity and asked them to bring the remaining food and drinks to the clerk's cafeteria with a note from him to thank them for their hard work.

Two of his finest chairs were brought in opposite his desk, and then he waited. He called in another elf to bring him a towel to deal with his flop sweat. Then he waited some more. Nearly thirty minutes later, and without his secretary or the guard outside announcing them, Lord Black and Agustus Stevens strolled into his office.

Stevens was dressed in an outfit that made him look like a dementor with a human head. The fringes of his robe were tattered at the sleeves and bottom, and he seemed to glide as he walked across the floor. However, it was Lord Black that looked truly terrifying. His eyes were dark and radiated danger, and there was an inky crack that ran down the side of his face as if the Blackness within him was trying to break out.

Arcturus just sat down in one of the seats without invitation, while Stevens stood next to him, wand in hand.

Fudge got to his feet to try to say something, but Arcturus interrupted him, "Why don't you sit down, pour yourself something to drink, and when you're calm, you can tell me what this is about."

That sounded like a good idea, so Fudge topped off his drink and took a sip, then relaxed into his chair and looked at the files in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "As I'm sure you're aware, I had a meeting with Mr. Harry Potter last week. Did he tell you what we discussed?"

Arcturus shrugged, "My steward briefed me. Pleasantries, a disagreement about Malfoy, and wanting to confront his parents' betrayer. Oh and plans for another meeting at Mr. Potter's favorite tea house. Did I get all of it?"

Fudge swallowed, "That's about it, here's the thing, and why I needed to speak with you so urgently…" he trailed off.

Stevens walked over to the minister and poured him more whiskey so the glass was nearly overflowing and gestured for him to drink. It didn't feel like a suggestion, so Fudge took a long sip and put the glass down.

"Mr. Potter wanted to know about what led Sirius Black to betray his parents. So I assigned someone to dig up the files, and when they couldn't be found I went to dig through the files myself. As a result of my labors, I discovered that the trial transcript didn't exist…" he paused for a moment and looked at the files on his desk. "This is all that we had."

Stevens picked up the files and passed them to Arcturus in his seat. The air was already trembling when the files were passed to him. When he got to the third one, the alcohol in the minister's glass was sloshing over the side from the magic churning through the room.

There was dark power radiating through Lord Black's eyes as he asked Fudge, "Are you telling me that my grandson was put in Azkaban without a trial? That he has been there for twelve years and no one has figured it out until now?"

As he said the last part, the glass on Fudge's desk shattered and there was an even darker cracking sound as the fracture in Lord Black's face splintered slightly near his chin.

"My Lord, your face," Stevens alerted him.

Just like that, the magic in the air ceased and Arcturus took out a small mirror to look at himself. He examined the lines and touched them before putting the mirror away and taking out his flask to have a drink. Fudge was out of his mind with fear. He had broken a nail on his left thumb from gripping his armrest too tightly. It looked like some evil creature was lurking behind Lord Black's face, and he almost made it burst out. Who knows what horror he could have unleashed?

Arcturus took another look through the files, and said, "I see that you weren't responsible for this. It was before your time. We can't just go at this head-on and release him. He is the betrayer of the Potters and the Dark Lord's right hand, after all… even if none of that was ever proven in court. It has as much credibility as the one I heard about Harry Potter losing his virginity to a troupe of Veela when he was seven years old. Do you have any ideas?"

"Now, we definitely can't just let him out," Fudge agreed. "The public would have a fit, and he is quoted in his transfer papers as wanting to go after Mr. Potter as his next target. Can we make it a secret trial?"

"No, none of the other Death Eater trials were secret, they are all a matter of public record. The Wizengamot will not be able to keep this secret, even if we try. Someone will talk," Arcturus said grimly. "Also, despite my connection, I will want to be there for this trial, even though I abstained from participating or voting in the other Death Eater trials."

"May I make a suggestion, my Lord?" Stevens asked.

Both other men turned to him.

"Since this occurred before your time, and since you recently exercised your Ministerial powers in the release of Malfoy and the other inmates, why not run a full audit of Azkaban prison? There might be other inmates that slipped through the cracks in one way or another. Start in minimum security and work your way down. That way it won't look like we are targeting Sirius Black."

"Good thoughts Mr. Stevens," Arcturus commented. Looking back to Fudge, "I think this is what you should do. Find someone impartial to run the audit, someone from a good family, but one that may have been against the ministry or the Wizengamot in the past. That way no one can say that you are trying to influence things in your favor, or think that you are just trying to find more Malfoys to release."

"I think that will work!" Fudge exclaimed, jumping on the suggestion like a lifeline. "I'll have my people start putting together a list of potential candidates."

"Make sure you send me the list when it is together. We'll make sure that we pick out the right person for the job together."

"I will, I will," Fudge let out a large breath and seemingly deflated. "I knew I could count on you for assistance in this matter."

Arcturus stood up and started to walk out, as he got to the door with Stevens, he turned back, "Make sure you get me that list."

Back at Black Manor, Arcturus summoned Brandt and Goyle from their other responsibilities. When they each arrived, they sat down in silence with the other men and waited for him to speak. Arcturus started by explaining to Goyle what had transpired with Harry's meeting at the Ministry and then recounted his recent visit.

Brandt looked at the other men in attendance and locked eyes with Arcturus, giving him a brief flash of the tricorn pirate hat in the trophy room, and getting a nod from his Lord in return.

Goyle spoke up next, "Couldn't we have used this to our advantage? A pureblood being put in Azkaban without trial? With the right bribe and signature, we could have shoved Malfoy back in prison, and cited Sirius's case as precedent when someone figures out where he went."

Arcturus chuckled, "As much fun as that would have been, no, the next place Malfoy is going is in the ground. Also, I have a need for Sirius to be out of prison. I can't tell you why yet, but the killing of thirteen muggles, a commoner, and a minor Statute breach shouldn't be more than fifteen years in Azkaban. We can't let this become a precedent for longer sentences."

"It was just an idea," Goyle shrugged. "Also why are you looking for that kind of person to manage the audit? Shouldn't we have one of the right sorts of people doing it? Someone that we can better control?"

"Who said we won't?" Arcturus smiled. "There will be someone smart, capable, and able to be manipulated with the right lures to take up the job. Though we will need to keep the evidence of our hands out of this or she will kick down the doors to the manor and burn it to the ground with as many of us as she can manage inside."

All three other men's eyes widened in understanding. A hands-off approach will definitely be required for this.

At Hogwarts, the weather was warming slightly.

Slightly didn't mean the snow was melting, only that they were now getting near-frozen rain instead of snow. As a result, all outdoor activities had been canceled as the ice and rain were making it dangerous to go outside. All the Astronomy classes had been moved into The Great Hall with students laying on pads under the stars they could see on the ceiling.

Saturday night at dinner, one could barely hold a conversation due to the rain pelting the windows outside and the wind whistling through the turrets of the castle. Halfway through the dinner, there was a large flash of lightning that lit up the windows of the hall from outside. A few older students stood up and watched the windows. Around twenty seconds later, a rolling clap of thunder shook the castle.

Professor McGonagall stood up and said to all the standing students, "Go, now! I'll meet you all in the room."

Eight students, including Gemma Farley and Penelope Clearwater, began to run out of the hall. Most of the student body was confused, but then whispers started to circulate that these were all the students that had been approved for animagus training.

Harry and Lyra shared a look, the lighting storm would be the final step and all eight of those students would undergo their transformations tonight. Now there was just endless speculation and rumors rushing through the rest of the school on what each one would turn into.

The next day at breakfast, there were rumors abound, as none of the students who had left the hall the previous night had returned to their dormitories. Once it was clear that more students weren't arriving, Professor McGonagall approached the lectern at the front and the room was instantly quiet for her announcement.

"As many of you have surmised," she began, "last night was the end of the animagus ritual for the students I deemed to have the dedication and high enough scores in Transfiguration, and that Professor Snape determined had the proper Potions scores to undergo the process. This was a long and complicated ritual that will be continuing for the foreseeable future for those who are deserving of this higher level of magical studies. However, and regardless of our selection process, Mr. Colton of Gryffindor is now in St. Mungo's for rejecting his form during the transformation."

Very few people understood what that meant, but they all knew it must be serious.

"Rejecting one's animagus form during the transformation is tantamount to rejecting a part of yourself and since he cannot accept it, it will do him serious harm if it remains. The ritual staff at the hospital will strip him of his form, which will make him unable to repeat the ritual in the future. For those wishing to take this elective next year, bear in mind that this may happen if you do not accept your form. No matter what form you take, it may benefit you in some way.

"All that was revealed to me before my transformation was that it was feline in nature. I was hoping to be a lion or something more representative of Gryffindor, yet I became a housecat. I wouldn't trade it for the world. The other seven students made it through with flying colors, and only a few small hiccups. They will be out of class for the next two weeks while they adjust to their forms. My N.E.W.T students will take turns running my other classes. Thank you."

She sat back down as the whispers and chattering started up again among the students.

It was a very good thing that today was Sunday, as no one was able to focus on their homework. Groups of students roamed the hallways searching for where the new animagi were holed up, while others gathered around friends of those who had undergone the transformation and pestered them for clues on what they may have become. So, of course, the first stop for Harry and Lyra was to bug Hermione about Penny.

"I knew she was doing the ritual, but she didn't give me any information about it," Hermione told the two of them and the twenty other students that had gathered around the couch she was sitting on in the Ravenclaw common room.

"You must know something!" one student shouted.

"She told me that she was happy with all the possibilities of the form, that's all," Hermione said, desperate to stop the inquisition.

"I bet she's an owl," someone said.

"Not fierce enough," said another. "I bet she's a tiger."

"That's too Gryffindor," the argument continued. "Definitely a bird of prey."

Harry locked eyes with Hermione who just mouthed out the words, 'I don't know anything.'

Harry whispered to her if she wanted him to get rid of all the other people surrounding her, but she just shook her head. He surmised that she was enjoying the attention from the other students. Lyra wanted to stay in the Ravenclaw common room to keep reading Hermione's Redwall books, so Harry grabbed Whispers, who had been laying invisibly with his head on Hermione's lap, went in search of Tracey, Daphne, and Blaise.

Unable to find them in any of the usual study locations, he ventured downstairs to Slytherin's office behind the Baron's portrait. Opening up the Well of Serpents, he scanned the room below for any of his friends. Unable to find them in the common room, he pushed the well over to the dormitories. Vincent's room was dark as he had been taken home by his father when he woke up earlier this past week and Malfoy was busy scribbling away at his homework, finding dedication to his school work in his lack of position and friends in Slytherin. He couldn't tell if Tracey or Daphne were in their rooms, due to the tapestries over their desks and doorway. Luckily, in the last spot, he found Blaise brewing a potion in the corner of his room.

Examining the color and ingredients on the table, Harry figured out it was a standard headache-relieving draught. However, Blaise had not removed the skins from the wintergreen berries before mashing them. It wouldn't change the effect of the potion, but it would make it taste very sour. So before he was able to add them to the mix, Harry scribbled a note, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it down the well, hitting Blaise in the head.

"What the hell?" the boy asked into the air. Then picked up the note and unfolded it. He looked up at the ceiling, "Harry? Is that you up there?"

Harry tried to respond, but Blaise couldn't hear his voice going down through the well. So he lowered down a long length of rope and gave it a few tugs, indicating to him to climb. Harry wrapped the other end around him and braced his feet on the side of the well, just in time to feel the rope become taught. A minute later, it slackened as Blaise's head popped out the top of the well, and he climbed over.

"Woah, that was a tough climb," he gasped. "I don't think I know any good spells to help with that."

Harry grabbed the boy's wrist and pulled him over the top. "You should ask Neville Longbottom about the climbing gym near the Scamander common room. There are ropes there to help you practice."

"Neat, I'll do that. So I assume you have questions about Gemma?"

"Ge-ma," Whispers spoke up as he turned visible next to Harry. Blaise barely flinched at the Hidden's sudden appearance.

"It's quite strange how quickly someone can get used to an invisible, talking silver monkey that can predict the future." He looked down at the rope that he had climbed up, "Is this demiguise hair?" Harry nodded, and Blaise looked confused, "How is it so strong?"

"I treated it in the same potion I used to make my staff strong," Harry told Blaise. "It works on pretty much anything." Then, preempting Blaise's next question, "I'm not supposed to talk about the ingredients."

"Well, it must be something amazing if it can be used on your staff, and still allow it to channel magic."

Harry nodded, then asked, "So.. Gemma?"

Whispers echoed him, "Gemma?"

Blaise reached out and ruffled Whispers's hair, "So Gemma is some kind of bird. She knew that from things she experienced during her mandrake hallucinations. Another student who is taking their NEWT in Divination did a reading on Gemma and determined that her animagus form is associated with water. Outside of those two things, not even she knew what it could be before now."

Harry smiled, "All of these people doing their animagus ritual makes me want to do mine this summer instead of waiting until the next one… but I promised Lyra that I would do it with her."

"You're not going to do it here at Hogwarts, are you?"

Harry shook his head, "I learned about the ritual from my tutor before Hogwarts. I trust him more than anyone else here. If he says that Lyra and I can do it after I turn thirteen, then that's when we'll do it."

"Is there any possible chance that I could join you and your sister next summer to do it as well?"

"Would your mom let you?" Harry asked.

"My mom would support anything I suggested that would make me a stronger wizard," Blaise smiled. "I was planning on becoming an animagus even if McGonagall didn't have the class as part of the curriculum. The number of registered British animagi in this century just doubled, before McGonagall's class this year, there were only seven that actually registered with the ministry in the last ninety-two years. Though there are definitely dozens that didn't."

"Why do you need to register?"

"It's mostly so that the Ministry can keep people from using their form to commit crimes, probably for other reasons too. My mother says that weak wizards in the government instituted the registry because they couldn't complete the ritual themselves; and if they couldn't do it, then they would discourage others that could."

"That's not very nice," Harry frowned.

"Politicians aren't nice," Blaise told him, "though most will try to at least conceal their apathy."

They both sat in silence for a bit.

"So, how's Whispers doing with the portrait?" Blaise asked Harry.

"Why don't you ask him?" he responded.

Blaise looked over to the demiguise sitting patiently next to Harry and just taking in everything that was going on around him, then asked, "How are the speech lessons?"

Whispers peered back at him and tilted his head slightly before saying, "Por-trait teech Whisssperss. I leern speek same Harry, Lyra."

"That's amazing," Blaise said with his eyebrows raised. "I haven't heard him say more than two or three words together before."

"He seems to be able to identify things and communicate moods and situations. He can string a sentence together occasionally, like that, but normally he prefers not to. Though I don't think he'll be able to do anything more than that. The portrait of Liborio seems to have taught him a lot of words that he doesn't know how to use, so sometimes he'll say something that doesn't match the situation at all, like it's just a sound to him."

"Do you think any of his other family members would be able to learn like him?" Blaise asked.

"I think he's unique," Harry said. "He's got plenty of younger cousins and siblings, but he's the only one who ever even tried to start speaking more than just the signs we taught the others."

"Magic is strange like that," Blaise contemplated. "I think my mother might like to take back the portrait if there's nothing more he could learn. She might be getting a few more house-elves by the end of this summer."

"Really? We put up the portrait in the common room and Liborio has been helping everyone in the house write our essays. He's helped Lyra a whole lot as well with her reading and writing."

"My mother might not want to leave him at Hogwarts, I'll try to get her to visit next weekend." Blaise cast a Tempus spell and looked at the time. "I need to get back to my room and finish that potion." Pausing for a moment after he threw the rope down the hole and Harry gripped the other end, "How did you know about removing the skins from the berries?"

"Symbology," Harry stated. "All skins on fruits and berries are protective in one way or another. It's the juice in the middle that you want to use, so the outside layer is just something that dissuades people from the juice inside. So it almost always makes the potion taste bad to leave the skins on."

"Makes sense, I'll try it with other potions," then he carefully climbed over the edge and worked his way down the rope into his bedroom. Harry pulled the rope back up and closed the lid to the well.

At dinner that night the school welcomed back Newt and Tina Scamander, returning from their extended winter break. Tina entrapped the students eating dinner as she told everyone that they had traveled around South East Asia, through Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, and The Philippines. She highlighted their travels by speaking about attempts to research two species of magical crocodiles, one friendly, the other deadly. The friendly one, known as a Barangitaw would be helpful towards wizards, and keep waterways clear of invasive species that would damage agriculture or attack the local residences. They would even allow wizards to stand on their backs and use them as bridges to cross deep waters. Wizards could swim, feed, and pet them without worrying about being attacked.

The other was a Balbal, and they aren't actually crocodiles. The Balbal was a dark creature that masqueraded as one of the large reptiles. Tina switched into ghost story mode as she explained that the creature feeds on corpses and dying animals that end up in the riverbeds where they live and that dark wizards often keep them as pets to dispose of bodies. It gathers other crocodiles around it to help in its disguise and effectively controls them by sharing the meat from the animals it feeds on. When they are threatened by muggles or wizards, they will transform into a creature that looks more like a winged lizard with a humanoid face and long tongue.

Nearly every student was sufficiently terrified at this point, so Tina tried to calm them down by telling them that despite their best efforts, they didn't find the creature that had been reported to them. They did find possible signs of one existing as there was a large group of overly aggressive crocodiles which was one way to tell that a Balbal had been in the area, though it was also possible they were just being driven out of their normal habitat by muggle developments.

Dumbledore stood up after Tina finished the tale of their adventure, "Thank you, Mrs. Scamander, for a harrowing tale indeed. It's always good to know that magic can produce great differences in the world around us. Some may help us, others may hinder us, and the diversity of magic in the world is a great and sometimes terrifying thing. It is also another important reason why our classes in Defense and Care are so important for us all. However, now I think we need something to take our minds off of corpse-eating winged crocodiles… So how about extra dessert for everyone?"

The suggestion was met by extra sweets and cakes appearing across the five tables and most people looking happy at the distraction from the horror story from before. As everyone ate, Cedric walked around the table and told all the Scamanders to meet back in the common room after dinner.