A/N: I'm so far behind in schoolwork I figured it didn't matter if I spent what little time I have updating. Note: Jack is now TEN not six (there will be a reason for this). So…enjoy this update. I have one-third of the next chapter written, but I've learned to not make any promises on when it'll be ready.

Thranx liiiiiiiives!!!!

10. Letters

Jack sat down on a pile of clothes on the floor. "Wha'cha doing?" he asked.

Sirius looked up from a crumpled letter that had obviously been read and reread many times. "I'm leaving," he admitted. He immediately felt guilty that he hadn't said anything before, as if he were sneaking away. A ten-year-old wouldn't understand why Sirius would suddenly leave.

But, to his surprise, the small boy seemed to accept the fact. "When?"

"As soon as possible." Should he say something else, about how he'd like to stay here with Jack?... Well, that was only a half-truth. He liked Ann and Jack's company, but he loathed being near Severus. Besides, he longed to see Harry again. His dreams were full of half-forgotten memories, the Mauraders rampaging through the school, James sitting in the back row of the classroom, punching Sirius in the back, laughing, his green eyes sparkling – no, it was Harry who had green eyes. Sirius would awake confused, his sheets twisted in a knot. "You remember my Godson, Harry?"

Jack nodded. Sirius had told story after story about Harry: an edited version of how they met, how effortlessly he flew through the air on a broom – half the things he made up, but it made him feel better. And Jack was an excellent listener. He would make sand castles and listen to Harry's real and supposed adventures with relish.

Despite only knowing his Godson for two months, Sirius bragged daily about Harry. Severus sometimes overheard him and finally threatened to vivisect him if he heard the boy's name one more time. "Is Harry going to come here and visit?" Jack asked. "Is he going to live with us?"

Sirius's gaunt face saddened. "No, Harry can't live with me. I'm on the run, remember? But someday we will, and we'll both come back and visit you." Sirius had been planning for their life together even since he met his best friend's son. Meeting Harry had opened up a whole new world of possibility from the dark, single-visioned vengeance Sirius had known before. As soon as he was free… They could eat sundaes together in the middle of Diagon Alley or go to the beach together. He could picture Harry's scrawny legs, brilliant in the sunlight against the white sand. Harry would probably like Jack.

Jack hopped up from the clothes pile he was nestled in and sat on the bed next to Sirius. "You're visiting Harry now?"

Sirius sighed. "In a way. I won't be actually with him, but I'll find somewhere nearby his school. I need to be near him. Remember how he woke up a week ago with his scar hurting? I showed you the letter." He looked down to the crumpled paper in his hand. "Dumbledore said the last time it hurt…was because Voldemort was close."

Jack immediately jerked his head up. "Does it have something to do with the Dark Mark at the World Quidditch Cup last night?" Ann and Severus had had a hushed conversation about that over dinner.

Sirius's eyes widened. "You're a smart kid." He rubbed Jack's stubby hair. With Jack's quirky aloofness and Sirius's intense spontaneity, they hadn't become the best of friends, but had managed to achieve a kind of mutual intimacy.

Jack merely nodded. "You think Voldemort is back?"

"Merlin, I hope not! It just doesn't add up – Harry's scar and the Dark Mark and all the rumors Snape's been hearing. I can't just sit here – I have to be there. Something's been up ever since that rat wormed his way out of my hands. I want to be close to Harry incase something happens."

"Noble sentiments, Black," a quiet voice spoke from the doorway. "By all means, please go get yourself killed. It will be one less nuisance to society." They turned to find Severus hovering in the doorframe. "But," he said, drawing out each word, "I would suggest you stay away from Potter – and Hogwarts. Things are happening, Black, in the adult world you don't want to get messed up in."

Sirius grit his teeth. Ignoring his last comment, he protested, "I could no more leave my own godson than I could stop breathing!"

"You would only put the boy in danger. Stay away. A lot of things are happening at Hogwarts this year regardless – the media, for one, will be swarming over the place. Dumbledore would agree with me."

"Would he? Fine – I'm not going to listen to you, greasy git, but I was planning on conversing with Albus anyway. If he suggests I stay away, for Harry's sake-"

"Which he will."

"Then I'll follow his advice." He crossed his fingers behind his back.

"Good." Severus looked smug.

"I didn't ask you Snivellus, I was merely talking to myself."

Severus's hair stood on end. He snarled at Sirius. "Don't call me that!" Jack quickly stood between the two men and they amazingly calmed down, silently agreeing to argue later.

"Why are obsessed with Potter? You've only met him once, and even then only shortly. You act like he's your son."

"He is!" Even Sirius looked slightly surprised at his own violent outburst. "He's all I have left; I don't expect you to understand, Snape. You don't know anything about friendship or loyalty… I'm his guardian; I guess I'm all he really has for a family."

"He has those idiotic Muggle relatives."

Sirius shook his head. "You didn't see his face light up when I asked him if he would live with me once my name was cleared. I swear he looked ten years younger, like a child. He had such a – he was so hopeful – I can't imagine how much he hates it there, to agree to live with someone he'd just met and had spent years hating. He didn't even think twice before accepting…" Sirius trailed off from his monologue.

"Poor Potter," Severus crooned. "We must all moan and beat our chests because he isn't fed enough candy over the holidays."

"Don't play dumb with me, Snape," Sirius barked. "You remember as well as I do how badly Petunia treated her own sister. I remember Lily, after the holidays-"

Severus raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Nevermind," Sirius said quickly. "But you know how much Petunia must have hated Lily. Do you really think she'd treat Lily's child any better?"

Severus's face was made out of stone. "My memory's as clear now as it ever was, Black." With a final scathing look, he swept back out into the hall.

"Damn him!" Sirius threw a shoe across the room.

"Damn him," a smiling Jack repeated.

Sirius sighed.

"You're not coming back, are you?" Jack asked.

Sirius cocked his head. "What does that mean? Don't you want me to come back?"

"I don't think you'll ever come back here," Jack stated solemnly. They stared at each other. Jack stood and walked out the room.

"Strange kid," Sirius muttered, shoving Harry's letter in his pocket. Most of his things were borrowed and belonged to Severus. Without anything to slow him down, it was time to hit the road.

"You're leaving too?"

Severus turned to find Ann peering in the doorway of the library. "Yes," he answered. "I must return to Hogwarts. The only reason I stayed so long in the first place was because of that bast– because of Black. (I still haven't figured out how he manages to slip away without my seeing him.) We have a lot of scheduling to do for the upcoming year. Hogwarts is hosting the Tri-Wizard Tournament." Ann widened her eyes, impressed. "I tell you this in the strictest confidentiality." He was only half kidding. Ann was reclusive and corresponded with the wizarding world only by mail.

"Maybe he has an Invisibility Cloak."

He made a noncommittal grunt. "Perhaps." A series of thoughts flew by his mind – Harry's head appearing in Hogsmeade this past year, none of the portraits seeing Black all year. Maybe Potter had loaned his Invisibility Cloak. But no, that wasn't right either, for Potter hadn't even met Black until the fiasco in the Shrieking Shack. Besides, Dementors couldn't be fooled by Invisibility Cloaks. "At least we'll be no where in sight of each other. He might even be caught and sent back to Azkaban. But I mustn't get my hopes up."

She smiled. "He wasn't that bad, was he?" She wasn't crazy about Sirius's overbearing personality, frankly it tired her out, but did he really deserve the Dementors?

He gave her a Look. "What are you doing? Not chasing…" He left the sentence unfinished. They had discussed the Book mainly in what had been left out of conversations more than what had been said.

She raised an eyebrow. "If I were, I wouldn't exactly tell anyone about it, now would I?"

He frowned. They were too alike.

"I'm moving on. I've stayed in one place far too long already, and that was only because of Jack. But he has no reason to stay. What little family he has doesn't want to see him, and I think the feeling's mutual. Besides, I'm sick of the heat. I miss Canada,"

Severus shook his head. Wherever Ann was going, she surely wasn't going to tell him the truth. He didn't believe for a minute that she was going where she said she was. "Will you send Jack to school?"

"Send him? Lord, no. It's not my style. I'll tutor him myself. But neither of us have patience for much schooling."

Severus was worried. Did Ann plan on teaching Jack at all? It was not too early by any means to think of the future. Next year Jack would be legally required to wizarding education. Jack couldn't go through the world uneducated, he was too smart for that, and if there was one thing Severus appreciated it was intelligence. But Ann continued as she crossed the room to sit on the windowsill. "He does seem to pick up a lot of things on his own, though, doesn't he?"

"I hate to think how far behind he'll be…" He trailed off. He was about to end: "When he goes to Hogwarts." But who knew where Ann and Jack would be in a year. Certainly Ann knew she would have to find a wizarding school eventually. Not tutoring a young wizard could be dangerous. A wizard without a proper sense of control of his magic was a menace to himself and to society.

"If you're so worried, why don't you adopt him?" she teased him.

"I'd be a horrible parent. I have no patience for children."

"Me either." She smirked. "But I'm glad to have him with me all the same. Having a wizard around can be useful every now and then." She laughed. "When I told my sister I'd never have children because I was too self-absorbed she called me a cold-hearted bitch." She shrugged. "But she's stuck in Kentucky with four of her own, so I guess it's her loss. I wouldn't trade lots with her for the world."

Severus shook his head. He knew better than to ask Ann about her family. To Ann, they were non-entities. The only thing Ann had said about them was that they were "Southern Baptists who aren't interested in anything more than wherever their own blindness leads them."

And he understood. For him, too, family was a matter of choice.

"So what are you hunting next?" He sat down on the couch in front of the bookshelf he had been rummaging through. He studied her. With the light from the window behind her, it looked like she was surrounded by a blue aura.

She shrugged. "State secret. I think I'm going to pause to do some more research." He rolled his eyes. As a student, he had spent more time in the library than his entire House put together, but Ann put him to shame.

At the same time, he felt (not for the first time) a twinge of jealousy. Here was Ann, traveling the world, browsing foreign archives, using nothing but her own cunning – while Severus was stuck wiping the noses of seven classes of brats all year, dependent on a man who had become a father to him simply because he had no one else. He was merely teaching about life while Ann was actually living it.

But she was being very quiet. "And?" he prompted.

"And…" She hesitated and looked (of all things) a bit embarrassed. "And…I think I'd like to do some writing of my own." When he didn't respond immediately she continued. "I don't care what you think! No, don't roll your eyes at me, you condescending bastard, I'm writing because I feel like it, not because I'm too lazy to read more."

By then he was laughing. He pushed his hair out his face. "I think it's a brilliant idea," he said plainly. "You're intelligent, articulate, blunt. I'm sure whatever you have to say will be worthwhile and memorable."

"Oh, stop." She beamed. "Well, I've read a lot of history books – wizard history – and a lot of them are, shall we say, outdated!" She looked very indignant. "Muggles do a much better job of updating their history books. Wizards just assume that accounts written hundreds of years ago are unbiased, but primary sources can't benefit from a long-term perspective. Not to mention the lot of them are boring as hell and ninety times out of a hundred are written by men."

"This is mostly true. Although I think you'll find there is more equality among the sexes among wizardkind."

She nodded in agreement. "I'm inspired by the fact that two of Hogwarts' founders were women. That far ago, in Muggle times women were nothing more than baby-makers. And didn't Britain have a witch for Prime Minister in the nineteen century?"

"We did?"

There was a lull in the conversation. "Are you leaving today?"

"Yes."

"I was going to invite you for lunch at my house since you're packing. But you'd have to cook."

He couldn't help letting a short laugh escape him. Although the two didn't necessarily go together, Severus was both an excellent Potions Master and cook. As smart as she was, Ann couldn't (or refused to) follow recipes. The last time she made cake she dumped in a bunch of salt instead of sugar. Jack was the only one who ate it. "What am I, a house elf?" he grumbled. "You think I have nothing better to do?"

She sniffed. "Suit yourself." She stood.

"I really have to be going," he admitted. "I don't have much baggage. If I apparate back home within the hour I can make it to Hogwarts by tea time."

"Alright." He could tell she was starting to feel awkward. He debated what to say. It was pointless to make plans or promises to keep up a correspondence. Either Ann would write or she wouldn't. He found a neutral topic to end with.

"I'd like to read it – whatever it is you're writing. I'm sure it would be…intriguing." He sneered lightly, lest she thought he was too eager.

But her face closed immediately. "It's private. I'm not going to show you a thing. Have you seen Jack?"

"No." She had changed topics so suddenly he was caught off guard. "We went for a swim this morning. Or, should I say, he went for a swim while I soaked my feet in muddy sand."

"I don't like swimming as much as hiking. But it's a different world down there." He was loosing her. She hated small talk. He wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. "Well, I'll let you…apparate, or whatever." She turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. "Look, Severus – it's not every day I meet someone as unpleasant as myself." He gave her a wry smile. "So keep in touch."

With that, she left.

But he didn't hear from her again until the beginning of winter.

When Ann finally did owl, the length of her letter made up for all the missing months. One Saturday morning a week after the Potter boy almost got his brains bashed by a dragon's tail during the First Task, he was surprised when an owl dropped a rather thick package in front of him during breakfast. As his private correspondence usually took advantage of other means of communication or arrived at night, he was annoyed to find interest raised among the faculty. Minerva seemed especially anxious to see what he received.

He needed only glance at his name on front to recognize her handwriting. How many stacks of loose papers had he seen over the summer with the same illegible scrawl? It had to be from Ann.

He put it aside carelessly, masking his features into a disdainful look. It was obvious to anyone watching that this was neither something of importance nor of interest. But his heart was racing with excitement. It would be like a breath of fresh air after suffocating under loads of incompetent Potions essays. He was very keen to see what she had sent him. The package was much too thick for simply a letter. It was all he could do to keep on calmly drinking his tea instead of running out the room and all the way to the dungeons. Luckily he was a master at concealing his emotions.

"Early Christmas present, Severus?" Minerva asked, leaning forward to look at it closer.

"Hardly," he snorted. "It's a business matter, Professor McGonagall."

"I see, Professor Snape," she answered sarcastically.

Damn those eternally meddlesome Gryffindors! Minerva was always trying to convince him to run down to the Three Broomsticks with her and some colleagues. He supposed she thought he didn't have enough to do on his own. If she weren't twenty years his senior he would suspect that she were hitting on him. He wasn't popular or sociable in his schooldays and certainly wasn't now.

Upon scanning the Great Hall, he was relieved to find that at least Potter and his Dream Team wasn't there; nor was Malfoy's crowd present. He had enough to worry about – Karkaroff was bugging him incessantly, and other old friends were becoming worried enough to contact him too. Even Lucius cornered him for a hushed conversation when he visited the apocathary on Knockturn Alley a few weeks ago.

He waited until Minerva was talking with Filius Flitwick before hiding the rest of his eggs under his toast. Then he slipped the package under his arm and left.

He managed to make his way two-thirds of the way through the second year's essays on the uses and varieties of the Engorgement potion, before he had to put them aside in disgust and open Ann's package. There were several things inside. One was a thick envelope that appeared to be a letter from Ann, another larger envelope with Jack's handwriting on the front. Underneath those were two books, a Muggle paperback and a thin, bite-sized antique book on ancient uses of griffin claws – probably to tease him.

There were two additional bundles of papers, which he supposed to be manuscripts, which both pleased and surprised him. One was an outline and several chapters for a comprehensive history on the development, refinement, and current ethical issues of animagi (why on earth she picked that topic out of any of millions he didn't know). The other appeared to be an autobiography. Excellent, he thought. He laughed out loud at her audacity. Writing an autobiography at twenty-five! Despite her age, Severus was sure she could fill several volumes already. He was glad she was sending him a copy. She would never publish it, of course – she was too private, and she had used too many illegal items (ahem, potions – he still couldn't believe she had the nerve to use EXE, an explosive potion charmed to respond to voice commands, extremely dangerous and volatile – it was most definitely illegal at least in every country in Europe). But being a bibliophile, Ann certainly knew that should she write it and leave it to be discovered posthumously, she could potentially make the history books herself (if anybody would believe her outrageous exploits).

He had written plenty of studies and papers himself, but the enormity of Ann's new project seemed daunting. It was mean to think it, but he doubted she would ever sit down long enough to finish either of her books. It would be ridiculous to assume that Ann would put aside her regular research into ancient tomes – he had never known her to work on only one project exclusively for more than a day or two. But she seemed to be having fun – perhaps that was more important.

Anything to distract her from a certain Book that should remain unfound…

The front page of each manuscript contained a list of possible titles, most of them absurd. A suggestion for the animagi book was "Lions, Tigers, and Bears, Oh My" which he didn't understand at all. Perhaps these animals had some historical significance. One of the suggestions for the other was "The Autobiography of Doom." Come to think of it, she had managed to work the word "Doom" into at least five of her title suggestions.

He put aside the manuscripts for the time being and opened Jack's letter first.

Dear Severus,

I miss the beach, but our new house is buetiful. We live in a valley between mountains, but they're really hills. There's a lake right down the slope at the end of our backyard. Ann says its poluted so I'm not allowed to swim there, but we go kayaking a lot. The town here is small. Ann says we've attracted too much attention already, so we'll be leaving soon. Ann is teaching me. I can transfigure a match into a needle and an onion into a potatoe. I can also move things if I think hard. Ann tries to teach me history, but I don't care. Theres a trail I run down that goes between the hills. Oh, I run with Ann more now. She has to go slower for me to keep up, but I'm getting better. We're moving into an apartment next. Ann left and came back and said we're moving. I like the lake. I wish I could stay here. Could you ask Ann for us to stay here? I have a pet turtle name Sid. Write back I misse you.

Love,

Khalid

Severus wrinkled his brow for a second. It was definitely in Jack's handwriting, but why did he sign it differently? Then he remembered the story Ann had told him one night. Khalid was Jack's original name. When he had been abandoned by his family and friends for being a wizard, he changed his name and went out on his own. He had introduced himself as Jack when Ann found him. Ann only knew his real name because, being a historian, she had searched for his past and found it. But she never called him anything but Jack. He was trying to distance himself by changing his name, she had explained, so she'd let him sort it out on his own.

But it struck Severus as unexpected. Was the melancholy boy he met over the summer changing for the better? What the significance of signing his name as Khalid instead of Jack? What was he trying to say?

As for the rest, there was nothing he could do about Ann's constant moving. Jack wanted a place he could call home – Severus understood how he felt – but he knew Ann wouldn't restructure her life. It would be too dangerous to settle into one place, the business she was in. She had entangled herself with too many ambitious witches and wizards.

He turned to Ann's letter and counted seven pages of her nearly illegible handwriting. She started off with a page and a half describing all the books she had bought and read, giving a critique of several. One of the Muggle fantasy books she described sounded intriguing. He considered stopping by Muggle London the next time he went to Diagon Alley.

After several more pages explaining various research (no details) and her various workouts (she was now running two to three times a day), she began to become more serious.

Yakov has virtually disappeared, she wrote, and that worries me. Ever since the uproar following the World Cup, the last record I can find of him is in (of all places) Budapest. Dr. Yakov used to be Ann's academic ally, but had recently sold himself out to try to sabotage Ann's business. I have heard that he spent some times at the summer home of a man called Igor Karkaroff, who incidentally (as I'm sure you know) is staying at Hogwarts. I don't think Yakov would have anything to do with the events of the Tournament, however; but he has been connected with suspicious circumstances.

Ann's letter was extremely informative. First, although Yakov (and Igor) had been less than innocent, Ann had spotted intelligence that neither was involved with the glitch in the Triwizard Tournament. Severus had suspected this was the case, but it was good to have it confirmed. Although he still wouldn't put it past Potter's audacity – or moronically well-placed luck – to have entered himself as the fourth competitor.

Second, Yakov semed to be on the trail of the same book Ann had fancied finding – the Book of Death. Which meant, by implication, that Yakov was potentially behind the threatening owls Ann had been receiving (which was no surprise, in hindsight).

Third, Karkaroff's connection with Yakov might be the true reason behind the Durmstrang Headmaster's worries. Igor had been hinting to Severus that he was after something perhaps more ambitious than the Triwizard trophy – he had even hinted that there could be room for Severus in the deal, were he so inclined. Severus wouldn't put it past him; his 'colleague' was certainly ambitious enough to be involved.

But the stakes were high. Severus had pushed the book to the back of his mind, but he was certain Yakov hadn't. Ann wouldn't be foolish enough to throw away what research she had done – and Yakov would know this. Reading between the lines, Ann was keeping close tabs on her 'opponents.' He didn't doubt that if anyone looked to be on the verge of discovering the book's whereabouts, Ann would jump in and snatch it before anyone else could. But if they didn't she would likely leave it alone.

He didn't like the position this put Ann in. But he understood her reasoning – better to have the book herself, even destroy it than let someone like Yakov get his paws on it.

Ann's letter was full of such intelligence, but it left him with just as many questions as before. He read on as Ann's ramblings started to come to a close, going from hiking trips she and Jack had enjoyed to fish she had caught in the lake, ending with a blunt apology for making the letter so long.

I would say I'm sorry for writing so much, but it's your choice to read it or chuck it in the trashcan – er, dustbin, whatever you call it.

She also added a quick note on Jack's schooling.

He attends the local middle school in the morning four times a week. I teach him magical theory and he practices their practical application on his own. I'm worried that I can't really supervise him. It frustrates us both that he can't move as fast as he'd like – I don't want to risk his accidentally hurting himself, when I don't have magic to help in an emergency.

He shook his head at that. Jack was smart, but young wizards really should be supervised during their first experimentation with magic. But it was no worse than Muggle born wizards, he supposed. At least Jack had the benefit of Ann's wisdom.

But there, at the very end of the letter, came the two sentences that made him more excited than the whole package put together:

I'm coming to London on business this month. Would you like to meet me in Diagon Alley some weekend?

As long as it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend that required supervision from the four Heads of House, he was sure he'd be able to slip away for one weekend.

She signed it as simply Ann.

The Postscript, however, nearly made him lay an egg with indignation.

P.S. Have heard from Sirius. I promised not to mention where he was. I'll probably be seeing him.

P.P.S. Do you know a lot about Hippogriffs? I might be meeting one soon!

He grit his teeth in anger. They had cast warding spells around a stretch of forest and let Buckbeak roam freely. Neither Ann nor Jack had seen him. (Although on second thought, Severus wouldn't bet money on what those two had managed to stick their noses in.)

"Drat!" He crumpled the last page into a ball and threw it across the room. What was Black playing at? What if some one saw him and Ann together? She would be sent to Azkaban along with him. The farther she stayed away from him the better.

In fact, he thought, it would be much better if she never saw, wrote, or even thought of Black again.

"Damnation!" He summoned the page back and used a quick spell to return it to a wrinkle-free state. If only Black had been caught trying to come back to the U.K.!

Almost a week had passed before Severus finally sat down to pen – er, quill a response. He didn't want to sound too eager, but he also didn't want to risk missing Ann when she came to London. He made two rough copies and had almost bitten his quill into shreds by the time he was ready to make the final draft.

He started off by addressing her concerns about Yakov. He had managed to slip Dr. Yakov's name into a conversation with Igor. Although Igor had immediately become guarded, he had hinted with a pleased expression that they were onto something big, and that there might be room to include Severus into the profits. Severus had declined in a way that would ensure Igor's continued offers. Igor wasn't stupid – Severus could be an asset in finding the book.

He moved on to more trivial things later in the letter: books he'd read lately, Goblin politics, how annoying his students were. He managed to slip in that she should stay away from Black because he was nothing but trouble. He hoped he didn't sound too bitter. He also mentioned that he would perhaps be free to meet her in Diagon Alley next weekend, despite his busy schedule.

He paused. Did he dare? Should he ask her? Albus had said at the last staff meeting that guests could be invited freely – within reason, of course. He mentally braced himself and wrote it quickly before he could change his mind.

Hogwarts is hosting a Yule Ball on December 25th. You could come

He scratched out the beginning of the last sentence.

If you dressed like a witch, you could come as my guest. There is little chance of your being connected to your professional name. Perhaps I could also arrange to give you a tour of the Hogwarts library.

It was below the belt. He was almost overcome by his Slytherin-ness. Mention the library, mention the library – what else could coerce a bookworm into coming? Plus Ann was intrigued with magical places, she would certainly never turn down a chance to explore Europe's premier wizarding school. But he also had to warn her:

Additionally, Karkaroff will be present. I can introduce you under a fake name and you may be able to draw more information out of him.

If Karkaroff let his guard down, they might even be able to get him drunk. The man didn't hold his alcohol very well. He reread the last paragraph and added:

I hate balls. You can pretend to be my date so Minerva (the Transfiguration professor) doesn't try to force me to dance with her.

He was rather pleased with himself. He didn't want to sound desperate, but he hadn't had a date in over three years now. If he showed up alone he was sure Pomona (Sprout) and Minerva would take matters into their own hands. Ann was sure to hate dancing and parties as much as he did. They could glare at the dancers and have fun being miserable together.

A rare grin spread across his face. What's more, if Ann's letter was truthful, Black would eventually hear about it. He could already picture the look on the bastard's face, in whatever cave he was hiding out in these days.

A/N: Teacher's first names are taken from the Harry Potter Lexicon.