Tell No Lies

by Voltora

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 5th year but when Sirius falls for the beautiful new DADA professor, his relationship with his godson comes under threat. SB/OC (And a little RW/HG sparkage! Will they ever get together?) Plz R/R *COMPLETE*

15. Search for the Truth

Chapter Fifteen; Search for the Truth

Harry stayed in a dark mood over the next few days, silent and brooding.  Ron and Hermione were unsure as to what to do and thus settled on leaving him alone until he felt ready to talk to them.

When Harry finally approached them however, his mood didn't appear to have improved.  A cold fire seemed to burn in his eyes as he asked them to help him investigate Professor Tia Torr; although the way he phrased it, it sounded more like an order than a request.  In any case, Ron and Hermione willing agreed in the hopes that it would alleviate Harry's grim mood.

Very few Gryffindors were staying at Hogwarts over Christmas but they decided to avoid the common room, opting for privacy of the empty History of Magic classroom instead.

Hermione sat at Professor Binn's desk.  She'd brought along her notebook, the Voice Boxes and, as an afterthought, the letter Professor Torr had sent Sirius.

'Okay, so what do we know?' asked Ron, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

'Not enough,' Harry muttered, angrily kicking the waste bin over, spilling its contents and deliberately treading on some crumbled parchment.

Ron shifted uncomfortably, glancing across the room at Hermione.  She looked up from her notebook, over to Harry, then back at Ron.  She shrugged.

'Well,' she said, sucking on her quill thoughtfully, 'I think that the first thing we ought to do is to find out about her background.'

'She's a Quidditch coach, right?' said Ron.

'Supposedly,' Harry growled.

Ron threw him a look, then continued, 'How about we write to Krum?  Ask if he knows her?'

'That's a good idea,' said Hermione, brightly.  'Harry, why don't you write to Oliver Wood?  He may be able to tell us something,'

Harry nodded, 'Yeah, alright.'

Ron agreed.

'Course, it would be a lot easier if we just asked Siri-'

'No!'

Harry glared furiously at Ron who looked affronted.

'But Sirius-'

'I'm not asking him anything,' Harry said shortly.

'I never said you should,' Ron bristled.

'But that's what you meant, wasn't it?'

Hermione broke in. 'But Harry...' he turned his steely glare on her. 'Maybe it would be a ... a good idea ... if - if you did-'

'Forget it!' Harry snapped. 'I'm not going to talk to him! Not to apologise - not for any reason! Got it?'

Without even waiting for an answer, Harry stormed out and slammed the door, leaving Ron and Hermione speechless.  For nearly five minutes they sat in stunned silence.

'Wow, mood swing alert!' Ron muttered.

'Poor Harry,' Hermione murmured softly.

'Poor Harry?' Ron asked, aghast. 'How can you say that when he's being such a jerk?'

'Ron, how do you think Harry feels right now?' she shot back. 'He's ... disliked ... Professor Torr ever since she arrived,'

'That's putting it mildly,' Ron grumbled, sitting on the desk top.

'And now he's found out that his godfather has ... um ... feelings for her, in a very distressing manner I might add; Sirius ditches Harry to see her and they have a huge row over it. I don't blame him for being cranky and irritable. But Harry does want to talk to him, I know he does.'

'How'd you figure that?' asked Ron, picking up Professor Torr's letter.

'He brought up the prospect of apologising first. He must have been thinking about it,' she sighed,  'I don't think he meant to yell at Sirius the way he did.'

'I guess.  But then again … I've never seen him act like that before, not even close,' said Ron grimly, peering closely at the letter.  He sniffed. 'Phew, this smells.'

Hermione toyed with the Voice Boxes.

'I'm not sure what Harry thinks he can prove about her – okay, he doesn't like her dating Sirius, but that doesn't mean she's evil.  As far as I can see, her only fault is a dreadful singing voice.'

'You'll figure it out,' said Ron, smiling encouragingly.

'I hope so,' she sighed, rubbing her temples wearily.  'But dubbing your voice in the wizarding world is probably as normal as changing your eye colour with contact lenses in the Muggle world.'

'You have pretty eyes.'

Hermione looked up at Ron, wondering if she'd heard correctly.

'Excuse me?'

Ron smiled warmly, moving round the desk to stand behind her.  He laid a hand on her shoulder.

'You work too hard,' he said, smoothly taking the Voice Boxes from her hand and laying them down on the desk.  'You need to relax.'

'Ron, I appreciate the thought, but –'

She faltered as Ron leaned forward.  For a frozen moment, Hermione simply gazed into his eyes, hesitant.

Slowly, his mouth brushed hers.  When she didn't pull away, he planted a soft kiss on her lips.  Closing her eyes, she reached up and kissed him back, allowing him to prolong the kiss.  His hand slid from her shoulder, coming to rest at her waist.  Wrapping his arms around her, Ron gently lifted her from the chair, drawing her close.

A part of Hermione's happily melting brain was just trying to figure out what she ought to do with her hands when she felt Ron's own hands slide lower, past her waist –

'Ron!'

Jerking back, Hermione pulled out of his embrace, staring wide-eyed, feeling her face burn.  Ron, startled, had stumbled backwards, gazing blearily at her like he'd just woken up.

'Ron,' Hermione croaked breathlessly,  'What were – why – what was …' she trailed off, uncertainly.

Ron rubbed his eyes.

'I – I … er …'

Looking up at her, Ron's eyes widened.  He went rather pale, then flushed a deep scarlet.

'Er … Hermione, I …'

They stared at each other.

Ron dropped his gaze to the floor, looking very dazed.

'I – I'm sorry, I didn't mean –'

'You … you didn't?' Hermione's face fell.

Ron winced, flustering. 'No … I mean, yes … no, what I meant was … er …'

He stared at her for a moment longer, then grabbed his cloak, hastily making for the door, avoiding her eyes.  'I – I'm sorry,' he stammered, and left.

Stunned and confused, Hermione stayed where she was, not sure if she wanted to go after him and demand an explanation … or to let it go.  Hesitantly, she raised her fingertips to her lips.

Abruptly, she turned and gathered everything up, sweeping it all into her bag and left the classroom.  Instead of returning to Gryffindor Tower she hurriedly turned her steps towards the library, wishing hopelessly that some considerate person may have written a book on why life was so complicated.

*

Feeling rather light-headed, Ron slowly made his way up the staircase to the dormitory.  He entered the dormitory to discover that Harry hadn't come back. He stood in the doorway, cloak over his arm, uncertain. Should he go and look for him? Just to see if he was okay?

Ron shook his head. Why bother? Harry was in a bad enough mood as it was. There was no point in trying to talk to him if Harry was not prepared to be civil.

It's Sirius he's mad at, Ron thought angrily as he stuffed the Cloak under Harry's bed and climbed into his own.  He has no right to take it out on us.

*

Harry sat alone in the cold and damp 'out of order' girls' toilets on the first floor. Pulling the hem of his robes out of the puddles seeping across the floor, Harry wished he hadn't walked out on Ron and Hermione. They were only trying to help after all. He'd immediately regretted snapping at both of them and wanted to apologise ... but he'd just got so angry ... he'd lashed out at them for no good reason!

Harry sighed, leaning against the cold stone sink. Now that the anger had left him, shame was setting in. Utterly miserable, Harry slumped against the wall, staring blankly at the rippling puddles at his feet.

Drip ... drip ... drip …

A tap was leaking; the water droplets hitting the stone basin, creating a hollow echo.

Head in his hands, Harry forced himself to take a few deep breaths. He felt horribly ashamed of what he'd yelled at Sirius, the look of hurt and shock on his godfather's face ... his response to Harry's accusations...

A single tear slid down his cheek.

Sirius hadn't meant any of it, had he? Harry didn't really mean what he'd said about him, just the parts about Tia.

Tia!

Fists clenched, Harry almost punched the cubicle wall to vent his frustrations, but he restrained himself. He'd only end up hurting his hand.

Drip ... drip ... drip …

'Are you okay?'

Harry jumped, slipping on the damp, slimy floor tiles. The ghost of Moaning Myrtle was drifting above the sink, having just floated in through the mirror. She gazed mournfully down at Harry, a glum expression on her semi-transparent face.

Harry hastily wiped his eyes dry, turning away slightly.

'Harry? Are you okay?' Myrtle asked again, gliding out of the mirror, drifting lazily in front of him.

'Yeah ... I mean ... I'm fine.' Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and forced a small smile. 'Never better.'

He turned to leave but Myrtle swooped down and blocked the door.

'Don't leave,' she said,  'If you're going to be miserable you might as well stay.  You haven't been to see me for ages.  You promised you'd come visit me.'

Harry sighed.

'I'm sorry Myrtle, but I'm not in the mood to talk right now,' he said shortly.

Myrtle's shoulders slumped.  Her lip quivered.

'Okay, fine!' she pouted, and sniffed loudly.  'No one wants to talk to Myrtle … when you're dead people don't want to talk to you anymore … not that anybody ever talked to me when I was alive … except to tease me.'

A ghostly tear trickled down her transparent cheek as she fumbled in her pockets for a tissue.

Harry tried to look at least semi-sympathetic but couldn't mask his impatience.

'Er ... Myrtle? Could you move, please? I need to get back to Gryffindor Tower.'

Myrtle continued to wail, burying her face in her ghostly hands, moaning incoherently about how woefully unappreciated she'd been while she was alive, and didn't budge.

Losing patience completely, Harry walked straight through her, getting a cold shock in the process, and hastily left the bathroom.

Myrtle jerked her head up, spun on her heel and wailed after him. 'That was a really lousy thing to do to a ghost! Don't you have any respect for the dead?'

*

Hermione looked up from writing her letter to Viktor as Ron pushed his scrambled eggs around on his plate. The Great Hall was bustling with students helping themselves to breakfast, but Harry wasn't among them.

'Ron?'

No answer other than the scraping of his fork against the plate.

'Ron?'

'Hmm?' He looked up, distracted.

'Are you going to put those poor eggs out of their misery and eat them?' Hermione asked with a grim smile.

Ron morosely stabbed at them with the fork.

'Think I'll torture them a while longer,' he said, making a weak attempt at a grin.

Nervously, Hermione opened her mouth to say something, just as Ron did the same.  Abruptly, they both stopped. 

Hesitantly, Ron cleared his throat. 'Hermione?'

She raised her eyes slowly from her letter, her brown eyes uncertain.

'Er … about last night, I – '

A shadow fell over them.

Ron immediately fell silent, and they both looked up to see Harry standing behind them.

'Hey, Harry!' Hermione exclaimed brightly, but though she was smiling, her eyes darted anxiously over Harry's face to Ron's and back again.

'Hi,' said Harry weakly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Ron looked up at him. His face was impassive.

For a few moments they just looked at each other in silence.

Harry noisily cleared his throat.

'Look ... erm ... about last night ... I ... er ... didn't mean to snap at you both and ... um ...' Nervously he ran his fingers through his hair and hurried on. 'I know I've been a real idiot lately - just got a lot on my mind right now - it's no excuse but ... er ... I just wanna say that ... you know ... that I'm sorry.'

They sat there, not moving, both stony faced.

'Guys?'

Ron and Hermione exchanged a brief look before they both turned away from him.

Harry stood there, mouth open in utter disbelief. A few moments passed in silence. Wordlessly, resigned, Harry turned to go.

'Apology accepted.'

Harry spun back round. Ron and Hermione were both grinning up at him. Hermione pulled a chair out.

'Are you going to have something to eat or do you want to watch Ron mutilate his eggs into a bloody pulp and still expect them to be edible?'

Cracking a smile, Harry joined them.

*

Late that evening, the three of them went up to the Owlery to find Pigwidgeon. Ron suggested that they send a different owl to Krum since Pig would probably exhaust himself flying across Europe at full speed, so it made more sense to send him to Oliver Wood instead.

Harry didn't want to send Hedwig off on such a long journey in the middle of winter, choosing one of the school eagle owls to deliver Krum's letter in her place. Hedwig did seemed a bit put out about his decision but seemed satisfied when Harry told her that if an emergency came up, he would be relying on her should she be needed.

Hermione released the eagle owl, which flew out of the window and headed off over the forest. Pig fluttered up and down on his perch, impatient to go.

'All right - hang on - sit still!' Ron muttered, tying the parchment to his leg. The moment it was secure, Pig motored his wings, hummingbird style, and whizzed out of the window with a shrill hoot of excitement.

Harry watched until they were both out of sight. His gaze dropped to the base of the mountains in the distance, then to the distant dark mass that was the village of Hogsmeade.  Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ron and Hermione watching him anxiously, as though he was about to have yet another explosive mood swing.

Slowly, he turned to face them.

'You know you don't have to help me with this – '

'Sure we do.' Ron insisted. 'Don't personally agree with your opinion of Professor Torr, you know that, but ... well ...' he trailed off, looking at Hermione to help him out.

'Harry, we're your friends,' she said firmly. 'If we're not going to help you, who will?'

Without having to speak another word, the three friends left the Owlery together.

*

The Christmas holiday finally ended, much to Harry's relief. The castle was once again filled with students for the New Year.

The bad weather held off for their first Care of Magical Creatures class in January. True, it was still very chilly and the sky was overcast but the sun was making regular appearances, however briefly.

Hagrid had told them earlier that they had finished with Fwoopers and that they were now required to do a group project.

'What do you reckon this project is going to be?' Ron asked as they made their way across the lawn to Hagrid's hut. 'If we have to raise Flobberworms or those Skrewt things again I will conveniently fall ill every lesson until the project is over!'

Hermione scowled at him. 'You can't skive lessons, Ron! The O.W.L exams are coming, we have to-'

'I know! I was only kidding!' Ron snapped back, though he instantly looked pained.  Hermione avoided his eyes.

Harry raised an eyebrow curiously but thought nothing more of it.  Like Ron, he was feeling a little apprehensive about Hagrid's 'project'.

Once the class had gathered outside his cabin, Hagrid emerged, carrying a number of large wooden crates. Many of the students eyed them warily as Hagrid set them down on the grass in front of them.

'Right then,' he said, smiling broadly at them. 'Yer'll have ter spilt yerselves up inta groups o' four or five for this, cos I've only got a few of these guys.' He indicated the crates, one of which gave a violent shudder as whatever was inside clambered to get out.

The class obediently divided themselves up into groups; Neville joining Harry, Ron and Hermione as Dean and Seamus paired up with Lavender and Parvati. Malfoy was (as expected) with Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy Parkinson, looking very smug, joined them.

'Now, yer gonna have ter work together and share the work in takin' care of these little guys, cause yer gonna have em for about a month.'

'And what are these ... guys ... exactly?' Malfoy drawled, half exasperated, half bored.

Hagrid glared stonily at Malfoy's sneering face before choosing to ignore him and continued to address the class.

'Will one person from each group come and pick a crate?'

Ron went first, picking a crate at random and cautiously carried it back to the others.

'Well, it's not very heavy, that's something at least,' he muttered as he set it down. 'So on the plus side, I don't think they're Skrewts.'

'Go on! Open em up!' Hagrid called excitedly, beetle black eyes darting from crate to crate expectantly.

The students looked nervously at each other as they knelt down on the grass around their own crate, before cautiously reaching for the lid.

Harry gripped the edge of the lid tightly and pulled it off with a sharp tug. Hermione slowly leant forward and peered inside.

'Oh!'

Hermione jumped back, startled, as a small furry face was poked over the edge of the box.

It looked like a small silver-grey cat, but the beautiful thick silvery fur was spotted black and its ears were enormous! They looked far too large for the head to support. Bright golden eyes swept over Harry, Ron and Hermione before coming to rest on Neville. The little creature almost seemed to smile as it leapt out of the box, straight into Neville's lap. Neville froze, watching the animal fearfully as it flicked its lion-like tasselled tail about restlessly.

'Anyone know what they are?' Hagrid asked, looking around as the lithe animals sprang out of their crates.

'They're Kneazles,' said Hermione promptly, her hand in the air.

'Tha's right, five points for Gryffindor,' said Hagrid. 'Can't mistake em for an ordinary house cat, hard ta confuse em with anything really,' he chuckled, reaching down to pat the sandy-yellow Kneazle chosen by Lavenders group, which mewed softly.

The grey Kneazle, now that it had got itself comfortable in Neville's lap, sat up and started to groom its spotted coat with a long bright pink tongue. Neville reached a shaking hand out towards the Kneazle. It stopped preening to look up at him, sitting perfectly still. Slowly ... ever so slowly ... Neville gently stroked the animal's head. The Kneazle closed its eyes blissfully and purred loudly.

'Hey, I think it likes you, Neville,' said Harry as the feline curled up in his lap.

'Real clever, they are. Gotta keep ya eyes on em though, have a habit of wandrin' off if they get bored.'

Hagrid looked very pleased that the lesson was going so well. Indeed, now that the students had got over the initial fears of Skrewt hatchlings, they were soon petting, stroking and playing with the Kneazles, all of which were purring their appreciation of the attention.

Hagrid spent the rest of the lesson explaining how to care for the Kneazles and the group diary he wanted them to keep, as they were now responsible for them.

After dinner, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville headed for the library to start researching the care of Kneazles.

Their Kneazle appeared to have taken a great liking to Neville and at that moment was draped around his neck like a large furry scarf. Madam Pince, the librarian, kept peering round the shelves at them, as though expecting the Kneazle to start using the tables and chairs as convenient scratching posts. Twice, she sauntered past, banishing a feather duster along the books behind them, like she was tempted to flick the little creature off Neville's shoulders. The Kneazle paid her no mind, as did Harry and the others.

'I think it needs a name,' said Hermione. 'We can't just call it ... well ... It.'

'I suppose so, but ... is it a boy or a girl?' said Ron over the top of Harry's copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them.

Hermione promptly consulted a book entitled Fuzzy Critters of the British Isles. 'Judging by its size, colour and markings ... I think it's a she.'

'Great! So what are we going to name her?' asked Neville as he tickled the animal under her chin.

'What's wrong with Dot?' Ron asked. 'You know, the coat markings.'

'How original,' Harry smirked. 'Poor things probably get names like Spot or Freckles all the time.'

'She's not exactly 'spotted' though, is she?' said Hermione. 'I mean, they look smudged.'

'I think they look sort of like stars,' Neville piped up.

'Then how about Stella?' Harry suggested.

The Kneazle growled softly.

'I'll take that as a 'no', then, shall I?'

'I know a good one! Astrid!' said Ron.

The Kneazle stopped growling, paused as if in thought, then purred loudly.

'You like the name, Astrid?' Hermione asked.

Astrid mewed happily.

*

Hermione quickly worked out a system of responsibility for the group care of Astrid. Dividing up the lessons went thus; Hermione would take Astrid during Herbology and Arithmancy while the boys were in Divination, Ron would have her for Charms and Astronomy, Neville for the duration of History of Magic and Potions, which left Harry with Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts.

It would vary who would take Astrid during their spare time since Harry and Ron both had Quidditch on a regular basis. Neville offered to take her whenever possible. This was hardly a surprise, as he'd obviously become rather attached to her in such a short space of time. Neville was overjoyed that Astrid viewed his toad, Trevor as a little playmate rather than a tasty treat. Crookshanks was also carefully introduced and, although the two felines seemed to tolerate each other well enough, they mostly ignored one another.

Harry was glad that he had so much homework to get through as well as Quidditch to focus on. It distracted him from thinking too much about Sirius, during the day anyway. But at night when he couldn't sleep, Harry couldn't help thinking about his godfather and Professor Torr.

He wanted so much to be able to go and apologise for what he'd said, but ... well ... what could he say? Just saying 'I'm sorry' didn't seem anywhere near enough to suffice. Harry did try to write a letter to him, but upon rereading he'd found that it just didn't seem sincere at all. Talking to Sirius face-to-face seemed to be the only other way, but what could he honestly say? 'Sorry for what I said earlier but I still loath your girlfriend's guts'? No, that was just plain stupid and would undoubtedly get him into even more trouble … however true it was.

But if Harry had found Professor Torr unbearable before, it was nothing compared to his opinion now.

Professor Torr had waltzed into the classroom for their first lesson back and had gone into peals of girlish delight as she spotted the Kneazle.

Parvati proudly showed off the sandy-yellow Kneazle that had been named Sparkle by herself and Lavender but also dubbed Connor by Dean and Seamus. There had been a scathing shouted argument across the common room already about it, but as their Kneazle responded to both names, it seemed pretty pointless. Nevertheless, Professor Torr fussed over Sparkle/Connor as if it were a baby, going on about how adorable he was and how she wished that she could have one.

Astrid had been sitting on Harry's lap to begin with, but once Professor Torr entered the room, had suddenly opted for being under his seat instead. It wasn't until the end of the lesson that she emerged and permitted Harry to pick her up.

'Oh!' Professor Torr's face lit up. 'Mr Potter, why didn't you say you had one too?' She hurried over, sickly sweet smile in place and reached out her hand with inch long polished nails, to pat the Kneazle.

Harry felt Astrid go suddenly tense in his arms. Next thing he knew -

'HHHHHHHHIISSSSSSS!'

Professor Torr jerked her hand back, crying out in pain and shock. Several long bloody scratches could be seen across the back of her hand, wrist and halfway up her forearm. The sleeve of her mint-green robe was slashed to ribbons. Astrid hissed angrily again as Harry struggled to keep hold of the wriggling cat.

The rest of the class had frozen, looking horrified. Ron hurried forward.

'Professor! Are you okay?'

Professor Torr, clutching her mauled hand, gave Ron a dewy smile.

'Yes, of course. Don't panic everyone, it's only a little scratch.'

With that, she went back to her desk, picked up her wand and promptly cast a simple healing spell to stop the bleeding.

She dismissed the class but strode over to Harry before he could leave.

Harry held Astrid firmly to his chest, despite being half tempted to allow her to launch herself at Professor Torr again and claw those stupid violet eyes out. Professor Torr tried to smile but it faltered awkwardly as she nervously eyed Astrid, who was growling deep in her throat, ears flattened against her head, eyes narrowed. Keeping her distance was definitely a wise move on Professor Torr's part.

'Well, Mr Potter, I do hope you're being very careful with that little beast.' She cast a disdainful look down her nose at Astrid. 'It wouldn't do to have any more unfortunate accidents now, would it?'

Harry stared straight back into her eyes. Professor Torr met his stare but looked away first. Harry smirked inwardly. Whether or not he should take her words as a threat, directed at Astrid or him personally, he wasn't going to back down to a fake. He stroked Astrid's fluffy head, letting her know that she'd done the right thing.

Noticing this, Professor Torr waved her hand as if it had been nothing.

'Of course, felines can be quite vicious at times, can't they, Harry?'

Harry noted her use of his first name rather than her normal use of 'Mr Potter'.

'Can't really tame them ... unlike dogs ... gain their trust and they'd do anything you ask of them,' she smiled, showing all of her perfectly straight white teeth. 'I'm really more of a dog person than a cat person, wouldn't you agree Harry?'

Harry glared angrily up at her.  A boiling rage was building somewhere deep inside of him; there was a pounding in his ears he hadn't felt since Aunt Marge had insulted his parents …

Abruptly, Harry turned on his heel and marched out of the classroom, holding Astrid a bit tighter than necessary, causing her to mew in discomfort.

Professor Torr's fluttering laugh echoed out of the room behind him as Harry stalked away, positively seething with fury.

*

Determined not to screw up his friendship with them again, Harry went straight to Ron and Hermione, dragged them out to the courtyard and told them about what had just happened.

Hermione was absolutely appalled that Professor Torr would have referred to Sirius in that way, especially in front of Harry ... to Harry in fact!

Ron didn't say anything for a minute. He sat deep in thought, not looking at anything in particular before digging through his bag to pull out a book; Harry's copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. Ron started flipping the pages, Harry impatiently paced among the stone statues of owls, biting his tongue to avoid asking Ron what he was looking for. Hermione was perched on the edge of the elaborate water fountain, which was the centrepiece for the courtyard. Astrid was balanced beside her, inserting a dainty paw into the sparking water in a vain attempt to snag a fish.

Ron found the page he was searching for and skimmed the passage there. He frowned, and then held out the book.

'You two might want to read this.' He pointed to the entry on Kneazles.

Hermione took the book and read the passage aloud.

'A small cat-like creature with flecked, speckled or spotted fur, outside ears and a tail like a lion's, the Kneazle is intelligent, independent and occasionally aggressive, though if it takes a liking to a witch or wizard, it makes an excellent pet. The Kneazle has an uncanny ability to detect unsavoury or suspicious characters...' Hermione trailed off, face grim.

'I don't know about you, Hermione,' Ron said quietly. 'but I'd say that Astrid reacted to Professor Torr in a pretty drastic way.'

'Goes without saying, really,' Hermione muttered as she reread the passage.

She turned to look at Harry. Harry was fidgeting like he had too much energy and no idea what to do with it.

'Let's go to the library,' said Ron, firmly. Hermione and Harry both stared at him in surprise. That suggestion normally came from Hermione. 'I think I've got an idea.'

*

'A love spell!'

Ron dumped a small stack of books onto the table in front of Harry and Hermione. They all had titles such as 'The Key To Unlock The Heart', 'Forbidden Desires Just For You!' and 'He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not; What To Do To Win His Heart'.

'That has to be it!' Ron picked one up and thumbed the pages, searching. 'There's got to be something in here on how to break a love spell.'

Hermione, although she'd been rather quiet for a while (probably thrown by Ron suddenly being the first to jump into the books for research), eagerly grabbed a book and turned to the index, running her finger down the page.

'Maybe there's something to reverse the effects of a love spell...'

Harry perked up at this and dove into the pages of 'Romance Charms and Enchantments' searching for anything that might be of some use.

Anything to break Tia's hold on Sirius.

To get his godfather back.

*

To Be Continued

*

Please review

All comments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated

*

Author's Notes

Evol norgara – Well, I've always felt that it's impossible to have any kind of relationship, whether it's parent/child, boyfriend/girlfriend or best friends, without arguing once in a while.  And they do tend to be over stupid things, don't they?  I feel bad about making them fight but it had to be I'm afraid.

Yep her name is Tia Torr.  It's actually an anagram of a word that I felt described her in the first edition – not too sure if it did by the end or even if it applies now … jeez, I'm rambling here.  I'll shut up.

But oh, passwords I like! ^_^  Frogs Breath I got from watching Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas – very cool animation and a good source of inspiration for passwords.

MorganD – Hey, we don't complain!  We love them!  Ah, that was a favourite chapter?  Yay!  It's one of mine too.  ^_^  Of course Hedwigs' a clever owl – she delivers lots of letters without addresses and finds the addressee wherever they are; wish our postal service was that clever. ^_^

Elbereth94 –  Nooooo!  Please don't hate him!  Urgh, I feel terrible!  The guilt is just piling on and on!   

Evil spapple pie – Evil freak lady strikes again!  Her motive isn't fully explained until nearer the end, funnily enough. ^_^  So bare with the confusion for the time being – it'll make sense eventually, promise!  Will they get married?  Hhhm, early stages yet so not telling!

Christy – Christy I am so sorry I missed you last time!  More guilt!  I checked the reviews on Monday and didn't think I'd get anymore so I didn't drop you a line at the end of that last chapter.  Sorry again!  Yes those two are stubborn but Harry does want to talk to him so there's hope yet.

Lil Lupin – Really?  I honestly don't remember you pointing that one out.  I remember the other one for when Remus and Sirius meet up with them in chapter 10 but this one? *shakes head*  Nope, memory like a leaky cauldron – sorry! 

Corrie – Thank you!  ^_^

Vanessa – Thank you, I'm glad you liked it so far but I feel I'd better make my reasons clear as to why Harry and Sirius behaved the way they did in the last chapter.  Firstly, Harry was extremely miffed that Sirius didn't keep his promise, especially when he's one of the few people that Harry really trusts.  So the fact that Sirius went behind his godson's back, making him think that something terrible had happened only to be found with his 'girlfriend', well, surely Harry wasn't going to be in the best of understanding moods.

Next is the factor that Harry is a teenager.  Mood swings alert!  Mood swings alert!  People of that age do tend to be deeply confused by all emotions and predicaments.  Arguments with those you love are natural occurrences so why would Harry and Sirius be any different?  Harry saying that he hates Sirius is simply a 'spur of the moment' thing; the poor guy's very confused and upset – you tend to say stuff you don't mean in those situations.  And as you can see from this chapter, he does fall into a depressing mood too.  He's only human.