Aziraphale was very grateful when the Christmas holidays finally arrived. What with one thing and another, life at Hogwarts had become rather stressful lately, and he needed the break. Because they were at a dead end anyway, Aziraphale, Crowley and Lupin decided to take a break from investigating Black and enjoy the holiday. Aziraphale had a theory that the best leads would come to them if they were not looking for them.

The school suddenly became extremely quiet; most students' parents wanted them home for Christmas, since news of the Halloween attack had spread. Security had tightened even more since then, and rumour had it that the Minister of Magic had been in Hogsmeade that weekend, though Aziraphale hadn't seen him. Even so, the normal holiday-feeling did not quite arrive for a while, what with the dementors floating around the school.

The lack of students decreased the availability of things to do around the castle, and Aziraphale and Crowley had found themselves spending most of their time helping Lupin and Hagrid to care for the threstrals, who did not like the snow or the dementors. At least it gave them a chance to ask Hagrid if he had seen the dog. They had told him it had run away from Hogsmeade, because of the dementors.

"That's very strange," Hagrid had said, much to their surprise, "animals don't normally mind the dementors so much," he patted Fang, who growled appreciatively, "they just don't affect them like with humans. Course it's different with magical creatures," he went on, "they're more sensitive. Got a level of understanding, consciousness. Almost human."

Aziraphale had thought this was very interesting. He already had some proof for his theory.

"That must be how he escaped Azkaban," he told Lupin and Crowley later that day.

"That's a good point," Lupin agreed.

"Still doesn't give us an idea of how to track him down," Crowley said grimly. He was starting to get impatient with their lack of progress, "although we know the dementors won't get him first."

"It's completely pointless having them if you think about it," Aziraphale pointed out, "but having a theory of how he escaped is something, though it isn't helpful right now. And you never know, there's the rest of the holiday to find out more."

"Not for me," Lupin sighed, "it's a full moon next week, right over Christmas."

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale wasn't sure what to say.

"It's fine really," Lupin said, "the wolfsbane potion makes it much easier. I just wish…"

Crowley looked at the floor. He wasn't sure how to comfort Lupin either, though he felt very sorry for him. They would just have to make sure they proved Black's innocence quickly. That way, Lupin would have a better reputation and would be free of any suspicion, and get his friend back.

…

Christmas morning dawned with such an air of festivity that even Crowley woke early, though he refused to join Aziraphale for a morning walk. Therefore Aziraphale skirted the lake alone on Christmas morning, considering the ice-coated willow-trees that hung mournfully over the water on the opposite side. Underneath there frosty branches he saw a now almost familiar dark figure, sitting hunched by the water's edge. He walked over.

"A little cold to be reading outside Miss Granger."

Hermione looked up.

"I found this charm for keeping cloaks warmer," she admitted, "I've been doing a lot of reading," she paused, looking rather dejected and Aziraphale wondered if she had been reading a lot because she was alone. he had heard rumours that she and Ron had been arguing but had thought them just gossip. Harry, Ron and Hermione were inseparable.

"Besides," Hermione added, in a brighter tone, "it's peaceful out here."

"That's some complex magic," Aziraphale was impressed. He had to stop underestimating these children.

"Well, I brewed a Polyjuice potion in the girl's bathroom last year, so it wasn't that bad," Hermione looked at him apprehensively.

"I'm not going to ask."

Aziraphale was quite flattered that she had trusted him enough to tell him. He sat down beside her, and she closed her book. They watched the lake for a minute before Hermione spoke.

"I'm going to give up Divination Professor."

Aziraphale smiled. He couldn't help feeling proud that he had been able to help her.

"I think it's for the best," Hermione went on, "Honestly, I really wasn't enjoying it."

"Divination requires a certain…personality," Aziraphale agreed.

Hermione snorted, "definitely."

"McGonagall said if I give up Muggle Studies too, I'll have a normal timetable," she said, "but I'm not sure yet."

"You don't have to decide now," Aziraphale told her, "but if you do decide to drop it, don't feel guilty."

Hermione blushed. Aziraphale reckoned he'd hit the nail on the head.

"I think quite a lot of Divination is guesswork," he said, "most of the prophecies I've come across aren't really going to happen."

"At least half of them," Hermione agreed.

"More than that," Aziraphale laughed, thinking about all the books of prophecy inside his bookshop back in London.

"There are some real Prophecies though," Hermione mused, "ones that really come true."

"Yes," Aziraphale agreed, "though you never know exactly how they will come to pass."

He was thinking about the only prophecy he had really taken part in. that hadn't made an enormous amount of sense until it had really happened. He supposed that that was just how prophecies worked.

They talked a little while longer, and it was quite enjoyable. Aziraphale told Hermione about his work with the Threstrals, and she asked him about an arithmancy book that she was reading. It was nice to talk about learning with someone else who was really interested in it, and Aziraphale thought again that teaching really wasn't a bad profession.

…

Christmas lunch was the usual delicious affair, despite the small number of students, and the absence of Professor Lupin. Even Professor Trelawny left her tower to eat with them, though in Crowley's book that did not qualify as a positive.

After lunch, Crowley went for a walk of his own, although it was strictly inside the castle. He thought that Aziraphale's theory was ridiculous and wanted to ask the Fat Lady exactly what she had seen on the night of the attack. That might speed up the investigation at least a little. He wanted something to tell Harry. The problem was, he couldn't seem to find her anywhere, though he had been searching all through the holidays. After several hours of fruitless wandering, he decided to give up for today, and set his course to the library, where he hoped to find Aziraphale.

He passed the Gryffindor common room on his way, and stopped, as there were sounds of shouting inside. Before he could move on, he was forced to spring away from the door quickly as a tornado in the form of Hermione Granger flew out of the portrait hole, her head bowed. Intrigued, Crowley stepped gingerly into the room.

He had only been in there once before and he didn't think it had changed at all since. Harry and Ron might even have been sitting in the same armchairs by the fire, though he couldn't be sure of that. They looked round as he came in, shocked, and stood up quickly.

"What's going on?" Crowley asked.

Harry looked slightly embarrassed, but he told him what had happened all the same.

"I got this, broomstick for Christmas," he explained, "and it didn't have a label. And," he sighed, sounding frustrated, "Hermione thinks that Sirius Black sent it to me, and she told McGonagall and now McGonagall has taken it away, and she's going to strip it down. To check for hexes."

"And it was a firebolt too," Ron burst out, "top racing broom of this century. I don't see why Black would spend that much money, just to do Harry in. he could have got him something cheaper, and he still would have ridden it."

Now Harry just looked despairing. Crowley could imagine he hated having everyone worrying about him like this, trying to protect him. He had lost his broomstick, as well as the Quidditch match, which was hard enough. And now, having just received a new one, the broom of his dreams, it had been taken away from him.

"I doubt she's going to destroy it Potter," he said, as it was the most reassuring thing he could come up with.

"Maybe you could talk to her, make her see sense," Ron said hopefully.

Crowley couldn't hide the incredulous look on his face. The idea of trying to make McGonagall 'see sense', was completely ridiculous.

"I'm not sure I could manage that Weasley," he told Ron.

Ron looked disappointed. And so, did Harry.

"But I'll try to get it back to you sooner," Crowley added hurriedly. He really didn't want to let Harry down again.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said. He still looked glum, and Crowley felt a pang of guilt.

"But you might want to apologise to Granger, she was probably just trying to help," Crowley went on, thinking that he might as well sort out one teenage drama today.

Harry nodded, though Ron looked mutinous. Saying goodbye, Crowley left the common room, rather wishing he had never come in at all.

He had only been walking a few minutes when Harry caught up with him.

"I saw it again," he muttered urgently.

"Where?" Crowley asked, keen to find out where Black was.

Harry looked at him, a little confused.

"Where was he-it?" Crowley asked again, attempting to sound more nonchalant, "Sorry. I've been trying to track it down for ages and it's starting to get tedious."

Harry looked pleased that he was taking the dog so seriously and the knot of disappointment in Crowley's stomach eased a little.

"It was in the grounds, near the Forbidden Forest and," Harry paused, "well, I think it was speaking to Hermione's cat."

Crowley fought to keep the disbelief out of his face.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I think so," Harry said tentatively, "it's quite a clever cat you see. It, well, it really likes Ron's rat, and it's really quite good at figuring out where it is."

"Ok," Crowley said, "I'll have a look at the forest."

He considered. It was a long shot, but it was the only shot they had.

"And Potter, do you think Granger will let me borrow her cat?"

…

Aziraphale was not impressed with Crowley for getting Harry involved.

"And Hermione too? Why Crowley? They're children, for goodness sake."

"I asked to borrow the cat, that's all."

"But you've been talking to Harry about the dog," Aziraphale paused, going pale, "you weren't planning to tell him anything were you."

Crowley decided to tell him the truth. He was sick of Aziraphale always acting as though he knew best, all the time.

"Actually, angel I was. We've underestimated him before, let's not do it again. He deserves to know the truth, And I wasn't going to tell him till we'd spoken to Black ourselves and were sure he was innocent," he added, because he didn't want Aziraphale to think that he hadn't thought this through.

"But in the meantime, you've sent him looking for Black for you?"

"No, I haven't. He saw the dog and he was scared. He thought it was a death omen, angel what was I supposed to do?"

Aziraphale sighed. He couldn't be bothered to argue. And listening to Crowley's plan was best for Harry, which should be his main priority.

"So, you want to use Hermione's cat to talk to Black."

Crowley was quite taken aback by Aziraphale's suddenly giving in, but he gathered his thoughts quickly, and explained his plan.

"So, we send the cat, with a message, to Black asking him to meet us in the shrieking shack. Lupin said he knew a way in, right?"

"Yes," Aziraphale still looked dubious, but it was the best plan they had, "but you'll have to wait till he's back."

"But when he is…"

"We'll put the plan into motion."