Title: Return to Hogwarts

Disclaimer: If only I could make money off my writing.Alas, it isn't so. Harry Potter, and his adventures belong only to JK Rowling and her affiliates.I am just borrowing them for my own amusement in order to make them do my bidding. All thanks go to the creator.

Notes: Okay, big 'ole thanks to le Manchot du Destin for her beta work. Our lines got crossed somehow, hence the reprint. Sorry! The next chapter is in beta, so it shouldn't take too long to post (I swear). It's written as a flashback into Sirius' life. Other notes: if you haven't yet seen The Notebook, definitely put it on your priority list!


Harry and Hermione had decided to stop in The Three Broomsticks before making the trek to Hogwarts. They sat at a small table, drinking butterbeer, and organizing their thoughts. Madame Rosmerta had stopped by to chat for a few minutes; mostly to congratulate them on the defeat of Voldemort. After that, Hermione sat for a few minutes in silence, not really listening to Harry. She nodded along with what he was saying, but didn't make any comments for some time. Harry gave up after a minute, and asked her what was wrong.

Hermione drummed her fingers against the edge of the table for a second. "Harry..." she said slowly.

"Hmm?" He didn't like the sound of her voice.

"What... what really happened to Kreacher?"

Harry choked on his butterbeer, but Hermione continued, nonplused.

"Ron told me he lived a full, healthy life and died at the ripe, old age of 107... but if that's the truth, then why does everyone act wooly when I ask about it?"

Harry cleared his throat, "Err–because..."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, fine! But if I tell you what happened, you have to swear you won't reorganize S.P.E.W. or spend our time at Hogwarts rallying the house elves to fight for freedom," he said solemnly. He could just imagine her donning her button and picketing the Ministry with 'Liberation' signs.

For a second Hermione seemed to consider her options, then, making up her mind, she heaved her satchel onto the table and pushed it toward Harry.

Upon opening it, he saw what looked to be a hundred tiny wool hats and socks stuffed into the bag. Rolling his eyes, he dumped all the knitted objects out onto the table.

"Really, Hermione, if they don't want to be freed..."

"You don't know that, Harry! These hats used to disappear like mad back when we went to Hogwarts!" she argued.

Harry sighed, "That's because Dobby used to go on treasure hunts in Gryffindor Tower. He probably had a collection of a thousand different colored hats by the time you left school 7th year."

Hermione seemed a bit put off by this sudden realization.

For his part, Harry was never planning on telling her what really befell her wonderfully knitted plan to liberate all the elves. But, she was twenty-two now, and could probably handle the information.

"Well then, about Kreacher?"

Harry rested his chin on his hand. "Well, do you remember when Sirius told us that his mum used to decapitate the house elves when they couldn't hold a tea tray anymore?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well, after Kreacher... after he betrayed the Order and got Sirius killed, Mad-Eye decided they needed to keep that Black tradition alive. You know... it's what Sirius would've wanted."

"But Kreacher could still carry..."

"Yes, I'm getting to that. He wasn't too decrepit yet... probably would've been able to do his job for quite a few more years. So, Moody solved that particular problem by dropping a 300 lb safe on his arms." Harry attempted to stifle a laugh.

"He–but that's inhumane!" Hermione cried indignantly.

"Remember what he did, Hermione," Harry retorted.

"Is it the same safe that sits in the kitchen?" she asked.

"Err–yeah, they never really needed to use it for anything. Anyway, right after he broke both Kreacher's arms, Remus handed him a tea tray and asked him to carry it up the stairs. When he couldn't, Mad-Eye said they'd have to cut off his head."

Hermione looked like she was going to be sick. "Honestly... if I'd have known!"

"This is exactly why we didn't tell you! Besides, it was Kreacher's dream to have his head mounted on the wall with the rest of his ancestors!"

"But I've never seen his head on the wall in the hallway," Hermione replied, furrowing her brow in thought.

"Right... well... it's not on that particular wall," Harry replied.

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Err... your mother-in-law owled it to Narcissa Malfoy," he snorted.


Hermione and Harry left the Three Broomsticks a little while later, ready to walk the short path to Hogwarts.

The chilly November air bit at Harry's ears and he wished for a moment that he had kept his old school scarf. They walked in silence for a few minutes before Hermione spoke up.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"I was talking to Ginny this morning... she–she told me that you asked her on a date," Hermione looked at her friend with interest.

Harry hoped Hermione attributed the color in his cheeks to the cool breeze. "Do you think she's lying?"

"Well... no. I just–well... I'm really, really happy for you. I knew you still fancied her," she said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it lightly.

Harry moved his satchel further onto his shoulder and ran a hand through his dark, tangled tresses. "Err–yeah, I do."

"She's really looking forward to it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So... did you talk any more with Ron's mum and dad about..." he trailed off, checking to make sure she was okay with the conversation topic.

Hermione absentmindedly fingered the wedding ring she was finally able to wear. "Yeah... well... his mum was upset, but she's been great to me. I think the whole family is pretty preoccupied with Bill right now." Hermione sighed, "He's being transferred to St. Mungo's today, you know. The Healers there think that he may be alright eventually."

"It's a good sign that he remembered his family when he saw them," Harry replied. He had studied Befuddlement spells and Memory charms a great deal during his Auror training. Some wore off eventually, others lasted forever. If Bill was recalling names and faces, he'd have his memory back in no time.

"It's amazing, isn't it? For four years, we thought he was dead... then he just springs up out of nowhere. It makes you wonder how many other cases there'll be like this."

Harry nodded in agreement. He desperately hoped other families would be as lucky as the Weasleys were in recovering lost relatives.

"Well... here we are... you ready?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Harry glanced up; they were standing outside the castle gates. They had been so wrapped up in conversation, Harry hadn't even noticed when they had arrived at their destination. Looking up, he saw the towering stone buildings rising up from every angle around him. The lake was glistening nearby and in the distance, he could make out the innocent form of the Whomping Willow, swaying restlessly in the breeze. He was home.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxflashbackxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry hadn't even made it past the first step when he saw him get hit. But, Rodolphus Lestrange wouldn't be able to take sole credit for Albus Dumbledore's demise; it had taken four Death Eaters and a surprise attack to finish the job they'd been sent to Hogwarts to do.

Now, you're probably wondering how four Death Eaters managed to sneak into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the first place. It was actually quite simple. You see, the school's one fault was that it was built under the rule that parents could always visit their children during the school year. Therefore, Lucius Malfoy, Gregory Goyle Sr., and Daryl Nott didn't even have to sneak onto the grounds. The three of them, plus Rodolphus, just sauntered up to the front gates like normal people. Normal people on a mission to kill the headmaster.

All Harry could hear was blood pounding through his eardrums. He didn't feel his robe tear as Professor Snape tried to stop him from rushing toward Dumbledore; he didn't hear McGonagall shouting at him from her place near the entrance to the castle. The only thing he could see was his headmaster's form slowly crashing toward the last stone step, his wand the last to land, clattering out of reach.

Harry reached Dumbledore with lightning speed and crouched down beside him.

"Headmaster... please..." he cried, "please don't leave me! I'm not ready... I can't fight him alone."

Dumbledore opened his kind, understanding eyes for the last time, "You will, Harry."

The old man had never looked so fragile. Tears were streaming down Harry's cheeks and landing in Dumbledore's rumpled beard.

"Remember, son, death is simply another step that everyone must take... even Tom Riddle." He coughed and struggled for breath.

Harry wiped tears from his eyes with the edge of his sleeve and mechanically shoved his glasses closer to his nose. He was only vaguely aware of the sounds of wand-fire around him.

"Harry..."

Harry leaned his ear down to Dumbledore's lips, trying to take in every word he was saying.

"Remember... evil protected him from death... but love will be his demise–Omnia Vincit Amor."

And with that, Albus Dumbledore, was gone.

Xxxxxxxxxxend flashbackxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As they hurried through the hallways, past quite a few gaping students, Hermione felt excitement surge through her body. This castle had been her home for seven years. True, it hadn't always been wonderful; but she couldn't imagine changing any of it.

Harry and Hermione walked past the Great Hall, up the stairs (Harry almost got his foot stuck in the trip step), and down the long corridors toward the Headmistress' office. Midway through, they ran into Peeves, who was in the middle of stalking Argus Filch and singing a nasty rendition of Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater and blowing raspberries whenever Filch looked back.

"Causing trouble, are you? Nasty students and their nasty tricks..." Filch sneered at the two ex-Hogwarts students.

He was obviously not in the best of moods.

"Err–no, we're just going to talk to Minerva," Hermione replied easily. They walked around the caretaker, who now had a look of putrid despair set on his wrinkled face.

"If I see either of you put a toe out of line, I'll get the whips! Mrs. Norris and I'll hang you by your toenails and force-feed you fried beans for the rest of your lives!" he screamed at their retreating forms.

When Filch was out of earshot, Hermione turned back to Harry and stifled a laugh, "I–I believe he's gone a bit mad, yeah?"

Harry nodded vigorously, "Total mental case... d'you reckon he realizes we graduated four years ago?"

Hermione was about to respond when two, young (first years by the looks of them) girls with blonde ponytails advanced on the couple. They were swinging their backpacks over their shoulders and giggling profusely.

"You're Harry Potter!" one announced pointedly.

Harry didn't even blink, "I know," he stated.

More giggling.

"Can we... have your autograph?" the other, slightly taller one asked. She looked a bit shy; her cheeks were a fine shade of red. Both girls were wearing the Gryffindor house colors of maroon and gold.

Harry looked at Hermione for help but she just shrugged. Most people would assume he'd be used to attention by now. Truthfully though, he'd spent the past four years (or more) in hiding, so the most contact he'd had with the public was at the Ministry of Magic.

"Err–sure..." Harry said awkwardly. The girl on the left pulled a quill and two pieces of parchment out of her backpack and handed them to Harry. His nerves seemed to settle then, because he asked their names and which year they were in, making light conversation. A few minutes later, after saying he'd see them during Defense Against the Dark Arts, they scampered away.

"Potter! Granger!" shouted the voice of Minerva McGonagall from down the hallway.

They crossed the length of the corridor to meet her.

"Err–actually, it's Hermione Weasley, Minerva," Hermione admitted timidly.

"Finally decided to tell his parents then, yes?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Hermione didn't even want to guess how the professor knew she and Ron were married. Hermione simply nodded an affirmation.

"Well, congratulations, then," Minerva said, beaming at the younger woman through her spectacles. On very rare occasions during school were students allowed to see the true person underneath the hard exterior that made up Professor McGonagall. Through their work with the Order, however, Harry and Hermione were acquainted with Minerva, the woman who was strict as nails but loved to wear her hair down occasionally (both literally and figuratively).

"Now then, follow me and I'll give you a list of Defense classes," she said, arching her back and walking briskly toward the large, stone Gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. After giving the password (Treacle Tart), the group continued up the winding steps toward the thick door the opened to the large office.

The various portraits hanging in the comfortable office were all wide awake and looking at the visitors with interest. Harry waved hello to Phineas Nigelis, the relative of Sirius' that also had a picture in Grimmauld Place.

The office itself looked relatively similar to when it was inhabited by Dumbledore. Fawkes the Phoenix was snoozing on his perch (he looked like he was about to keel over and die, though, quite literally), there were still dozens of magical mechanical items on the shelves lining the walls, and the same huge, mahogany desk sat near the entrance. Now, however, McGonagall had added a few photos of her own family to the desk; moving photographs of small children waving and giggling (grandchildren, perhaps?), and one of herself and her husband.

"Your first class of the day will be at 11:30 with the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor 2nd years." She scanned the list, "Hufflepuff and Slytherin 1st years after lunch, and then Gryffindor 5th years at 4p.m. I trust you came prepared?" she asked, handing the schedule to Hermione.

Hermione nodded vigorously.

Harry glanced at the schedule in her hands, "Hey... when we were in school, we usually had to sit through classes with the Slytherins..."

"Yes... well, that was always a catastrophe. I changed the schedule around a bit. Professor Dumbledore, rest his soul, believed that eventually, the students in Gryffindor and Slytherin would begin to get along. I've found that keeping those particular houses separate has lowered visits to the hospital wing during classes considerably."

0-0-0-0

Harry and Hermione thanked Professor McGonagall for letting them come and said they'd see her at lunchtime.

Hermione wanted to head straight to the library before their Defense class, but Harry persuaded her to hold off until later. He wanted to visit Hagrid before they did anything else. It had been ages since he'd seen the half-giant. Since the war officially ended, Hagrid hadn't been spending much time at Grimmauld Place. In fact, Harry had only seen him stop by once since he'd awoke from his coma in September.

As the two made their way across the grounds toward the hut, Harry marveled at how much, despite how long they'd been gone, the castle still felt like home. It had, after all, been his first real home. He'd never had friends before Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione were the first of many.

"It's nice being back," he said, breathing in the clean, November air. In the distance, Harry could see Hagrid, carrying a dead animal over his shoulder, walking out of the Forbidden Forest.

"It'll be wonderful to be back in the library," Hermione said, wistfully looking back toward the castle.

Harry rolled his eyes; Hermione's personality definitely hadn't changed over the years. She would still rather read then watch Quidditch (perhaps even if Ron was playing) and would rather spend all day in the library than anywhere else on the face of the planet.

"Harry! Hermione!" roared Hagrid's gruff voice from down the path.

The pair waved a greeting as they made their way past the pumpkin patch and a few assorted cages (some of which were relatively large, Harry noted).

Hagrid dropped his dead... deer... and engulfed Harry and Hermione into a gigantic bear hug.

"How've the two a' you been gettin' on?" he asked, beetle eyes gleaming with happiness.

"We've been alright! Can't wait until we can move out of Grimmauld Place," Hermione told him as she picked loose deer hair off her jumper.

"Thas' right, I heard ya've been off gettin' married. Ron Weasley of all people! Ya couldnt'a picked a better one, Hermione!" he said tearfully, wiping his eyes with a dirty handkerchief.

Hermione blushed.

"An what 'bout you, Harry? Anyone special yur wait'n on?" His damp eyes gleamed with mischief.

"Err–no, not right now," he admitted.

"Actually, Harry has a date," Hermione said, poking him in the side.

Harry blushed and scuffed his trainer into the dirt.

Hagrid beamed at him, "Is that right? Good for ya', Harry! Ya' deserve a bit 'o happiness now that the business with... You-Know-Who is done wit'... so who's the lucky girl?"

Hermione answered for him, obviously intent on heightening his embarrassment. "Ginny Weasley!"

"Is that right! I always thought the two 'o ya made a nice pair," Hagrid replied, crossing his arms and staring at Harry solemnly.

"Err–thanks. So... what about you, Hagrid? What've you been up to lately?" Harry was desperate to point the conversation in a different direction.

"Oy! I should show ya'! C'mere! Lemme show ya what I 'ave in store for kids this year!"

Harry and Hermione blanched and exchanged glances. Last time they'd heard Hagrid say those words was during the blast-ended-screwt escapade. There was also Baby Norbert, Beaky the Hippogriff, Grawp (he turned out fine... after a while), and his pet acromantula. The list of Hagrid's dangerous 'pets' went on and on. Harry couldn't imagine what could be worse than a pet dragon or giant spider... then again... this was Hagrid they were talking about.

They followed Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest, glancing about nervously.

"Err... Hagrid?" Hermione asked timidly, "We have a class to teach in forty-five minutes... this isn't... going to take too long, is it?"

Harry had been thinking the same thing. Perhaps now wasn't the time for a long journey into a death trap.

"Aw, don't ya worry, Hermione! You'll be back in no time! I promise it won't take long." He kept stomping through the tall grass and moving aside trees for another five minutes before they finally reached a small clearing. There was a fence surrounding the entire space, and in the center, there were the remnants of an old fire pit, probably gone unused for a long time.

Harry squinted for a second before the creatures in the pen came into view. They resembled Gnomes, somewhat; there were four or five of them in all. Harry noticed that each one was about three-foot tall with pale pink skin. Suddenly, the one nearest to the gate omitted a loud, sharp cackle.

Harry covered his ears. Glancing at Hermione, he saw she was staring fixedly at the elfish creature with a scowl set upon her features.

"Hagrid," Harry shouted above the cackling dwarf, "What the bloody hell are those things?"

Hagrid didn't hear Harry.

"Erklings," Hermione answered instead.

Of course she knows what they are. I forgot I was spending time with the human dictionary.

Hagrid beamed at Harry and Hermione, "Aren't they lovely?" he asked, expecting them to be equally excited.

Harry decided that these Erklings were probably the mildest pet Hagrid had ever owned.

"Hagrid," Hermione said pointedly, "They're classified as very dangerous..."

Hagrid waved a hand to dismiss her protest. "Aw, they aren't so bad. Just got some irregular eat'n habits, 's all." He grinned as a smaller Erkling let out a high pitched cackle.

"Erm... what do they eat?" asked Harry, not quite sure he wanted to know the answer.

The next word Hagrid spoke came out as a cough. "Children."

Harry gaped.

"Hag–Hagrid... you do realize this is a SCHOOL that's full of kids." Hermione looked at the half-giant in astonishment.

"Course! But they won't harm no one... just got'ta keep 'em locked up 's all." Hagrid flung a pair of dead ferrets over the fence.

"And... what if they do get out?" Harry asked, watching as the little creatures scurried forward toward the food. The closest one grasped the ferret tightly in its fingers, snapped the neck, and bit the head off.

Harry winced.

Hermione whimpered and looked away.

"They won't... don't ya be worrying 'bout nothing, Harry!"

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him away from the fence. "Well... erm–good luck with them, Hagrid," she said carefully. "We should probably be heading back up to the castle... don't want to miss our first lessons!"

Hagrid gave each of them another giant hug and tearfully waved goodbye as they made their way out of the forest.

When the pair was out of earshot, Hermione turned toward Harry, seething. "Honestly! They eat children! I wonder if there's an animal on the planet that he'd consider dangerous!"

Harry just shook his head in disbelief. It could have been worse, though. He could just imagine Hagrid journeying to a tiny island off the coast of Scotland to capture a Quintaped.


Al stepped into Kingsley Shacklebolt's dimly lit office, feeling slightly apprehensive. Offhand, he couldn't think of any reason he had been summoned by the Chief Auror. True, there had been the little mishap a few weeks back when he'd charmed all the 'Wanted Wizard' posters in the office to sing a rousing rendition of 'Oops, I did it Again,' whenever someone would walk past; but Harry had been the one blamed for it (being raised by Muggles had made him a prime suspect to begin with). Alright, and there had been that incident last week when he'd put a babbling hex on Melvin during his Stealth and Concealment exam. But other than that, he was completely innocent!

Kingsley glanced up, "Ah... Baldwin! Excellent!" He tossed a file folder carelessly on the desk. Al reached over to pick it up; written across the top were the words 'Confederation de Mágica: Caçador.' (Confederation of Magic: Hunter).

"What's this?" he asked, thumbing through the pages with little interest.

"Portuguese Confederation of Magic," the elder Auror explained. "They've offered to help with the Death Eater hunt." He sat back in the chair and folded his hands. "You and Potter are going to work out the details. A small team of their Dark Wizard Hunters will be visiting after the Holidays. I want the two of you to show them around our headquarters, train with them, and convince them to help us. If we can get the cooperation of a few more countries, we could have this situation mopped up in no time."

"Sir... why not assign this to a more experienced team?" Al asked. He didn't understand why he was being trusted to entertain foreign dignitaries. Wasn't that the Minister of Magic's job?

"Simple. Your partner is famous for finishing Voldemort and you are a good negotiator. I have complete faith in both of you." He paused for a minute, "Although, I may ask a couple trainees to keep you in line." His dark eyes twinkled.

Al stood up, proud that his supervisor found him competent. "Thank you, sir. When do arrive?"

Kingsley sat forward and glanced at the calendar lying atop the desk. "Have you planned the next D.A. meeting?"

Al nodded, "Harry has it set for two weeks after New Years."

"I'll work it out with the Chancellor, then, and let you know."

Al thanked him again and left the office feeling excited to be a part of a task that didn't involve camping out in front of a house for twelve hours and waiting for Narcissa Malfoy to do something. Hopefully, they would be able to relay the urgency of the situation. And, if not, Harry could always duel them into submission.

Al chortled at his quick thinking.


Professor Parry was a young man, probably in his late thirties. Harry was positive his hair was fake, though, despite his age. It sat on his head at an odd angle, and Harry could have sworn he saw it quiver when the man bent over. Parry also seemed a bit jittery, but welcomed them into his classroom nonetheless.

It was disconcerting to walk into a classroom and have all eyes on you, Harry quickly decided. True, he had lead the D.A. for quite some time, but having the attention of twenty-five twelve-year-olds was not the same as being watched by your peers. Usually, second-years had the attention span of Al in a library; about ten minutes. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students, however, sitting in desks in front of him, were staring, unblinking, at him and Hermione.

"I would like everyone to give a warm welcome to our guest speakers; Hermione Granger and Harry Potter!" Parry said loudly.

"Weasley... it's Hermione Weasley," Hermione interrupted proudly.

Echoes of 'Good morning' and 'hello' were heard around the room.

"Erm... hello," Harry returned nervously. Now that he was actually standing at the front of the classroom, he didn't really know where to begin. He shot Hermione a hopeful look.

She was already pulling out a notebook. "Perhaps we should start with questions?" she asked Harry.

He nodded. "Sounds fine... does anyone have a question before we begin?" Thinking back to his days at Hogwarts, he couldn't remember having a single question for their guest speakers. But, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, every hand around the room shot into the air.

Harry was stunned.

He chose a blonde girl in the front row. She was wearing Gryffindor red and gold. She beamed before she started to talk, "You were the Head Boy and Girl your seventh year, right?"

Hermione answered for both of them, "Yes, we were."

"And you were both in Gryffindor?" asked a small boy in the back, also wearing the Gryffindor colors.

Harry nodded.

The Gryffindor students in the classroom clapped and whooped.

Harry and Hermione exchanged smiles.

Professor Parry clapped his hands together fiercely, "Alright, everyone! I want to hear questions about the subject!"

A few people groaned and a couple hands went down.

Hermione leaned against Parry's desk and picked on a Ravenclaw girl with bushy brown hair.

"What spell did you use to defeat You-Know-Who?"

"It was quite complicated, actually," Hermione tried to explain. "It was sort of a cross between an exorcism and a love spell. Harry was able to drive out the evil and replace it with love." She paused for a minute to check Harry's reaction.

He stared ahead with blank eyes.

"It... destroyed him from the inside out," he finished.

There were a few whispers among the captivated audience.

"And were you really held hostage until August?" another asked.

Harry nodded and cleared his throat, "The Death Eaters that were left after the final battle captured a few of us. They were trying to trade us for some of the imprisoned Voldemort supporters, but the Ministry wouldn't negotiate."

Nervous whispers filled the classroom at the mention of Voldemort's name. Harry and Hermione ignored them.

"The Aurors found us after three months in captivity," Hermione added.

Harry clapped his hands and stood up, "Alright, enough about Voldemort... why don't we start practicing some useful spells?"

The students started chatting excitedly.

"Everyone get out your wands and move your desks toward the wall," Harry said as he pulled out his own wand.

When everyone was settled around him and Hermione, and Professor Parry had brought out a box of cushions, Harry explained what they were about to do.

"Now, my partner, Al, thinks this is the most important charm he ever learned. I think it's because he's lazy, but he says it's useful..." Harry was hit with an amusing mental image of Al, sitting in his cubicle, summoning objects from across the room instead of standing up and getting them himself.

"We realize this is a charm, but since we've both used it against Death Eaters ourselves, Harry and I decided it would be a good place to start," Hermione explained.

"Watch carefully... Accio cushion!" Harry called, flicking his wand in the direction of the pile of cushions. A cushion in the middle of the pile flew toward him, landing perpendicular at his feet.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Accio cushion." Her cushion flew directly into her outstretched arms.

Harry chuckled as the class clapped, "Well... she was always loads better than me at Charms," he explained.

He divided the class into groups to practice, and he and Hermione walked around to monitor their activities. Near the end of the class, they each had a chance to show off their skills to Harry and Hermione.

Most attempted to summon quills or parchment, but one of the last students, a Gryffindor to boot, named Landon made the rest of the students (and Harry) laugh when he summoned a toilet seat from a nearby bathroom.

Soon after, Landon's friend, another Gryffindor, summoned Professor Parry's toupee (Parry dismissed the class after this episode, giving both boys a detention).

Harry quickly decided they were both Marauder material. As the rest of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were picking up and leaving, he called the two over, asking to speak to them privately. They exchanged worried glances and followed them into a corner.

Hermione made to wait for him, but Harry told her he'd meet her in the Great Hall for lunch in a few minutes. She gave him an odd look, but complied, nonetheless.

After the classroom had emptied, Harry asked the two boys their names.

Landon cleared his throat awkwardly, "Erm—Landon Delmer." He had dark hair that fell into his eyes with rare grace, and deep, scorching blue eyes. His Hogwart's robe laid awkwardly on his twelve-year-old frame.

The other boy was an inch taller, and had short, brown hair. He shifted awkwardly. "Charlie Boot."

Harry grinned and rummaged around in his satchel. The two boys looked on curiously.

"Err... Mr. Potter–it was meant to be a joke, you know," Charlie said.

Harry looked up, "You aren't in trouble... and please, call me Harry."

The two boys breathed a sigh of relief.

"Have either of you ever heard of Fred and George Weasley?" he asked, finally finding what he was looking for in his bag.

The two boys nodded excitedly.

"Of course we do! They own the joke shop!" Landon exclaimed.

"That place is bloody brilliant. We picked up loads of dung bombs and Skiving Snackboxes during the summer... although, I probably shouldn't tell you that," Charlie added, clamping a hand over his mouth.

Harry snorted and waved away his concern, "I won't tell anyone. Anyway, Fred and George are good friends of mine; I think they'd like the two of you."

Landon and Charlie beamed.

"And, I reckon they'd have no objection of my passing this along to you." Into their hands, he thrust an old, bare piece of parchment.

The boys eyed him suspiciously.

Harry touched the parchment with his wand, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Immediately, ink lines began spreading throughout the parchment. They twisted and turned to form hallways and classrooms. Small name bubbles were floating around with ease.

After a minute of stunned silence, the boys turned over the map in their hands.

"This... this is Hogwarts!" Landon exclaimed.

Harry smiled.

Charlie leaned forward and squinted at the map, "Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present the Marauder's Map."

"My father and his friends made this when they went to Hogwarts. Every staircase, hallway, hidden corner, and classroom is etched in detail," Harry announced proudly.

The two boys exchanged looks of mischief.

"And is that... really Filch and Mrs. Norris in the hallway?" Landon asked, pointing to a moving bubble heading toward the classroom.

Harry nodded. "Mischief managed," he said, poking the map again with his wand. The ink lines disappeared, leaving the parchment blank once again.

"Now, there are two rules you have to promise to follow if I'm going to let you have this. First, you have to keep it to yourselves and use it well. Second, you have to pass it on when you leave Hogwarts. There's no use in keeping it; it doesn't work anywhere else."

Landon and Charlie nodded vigorously.

Harry handed Charlie the map. He placed it carefully in his backpack.

"Thanks... Harry!" Landon said.

"We'll take really good care of it, we promise!" Charlie added.

Harry watched them as walked out of the classroom. He wouldn't tell Hermione about giving them the map; she most definitely would not approve. Part of him was sad for giving up such a huge part of his history; that map had gone everywhere with him during his time at Hogwarts. He, Ron, and Hermione had gotten into loads of trouble with it, but it could be argued that they would have gotten into more trouble without it. But, this is what his father and Sirius would have wanted; the map passed along to another era of Marauders. Perhaps the reason it had been confiscated during their seventh year was because they let it be; enabling the Weasley twins to discover it years later.


Hermione smiled at Madame Pince as she walked to the front of the library to retrieve the next set of student records. Being in the Hogwart's library again was invigorating. She pulled out the scrap of paper that Remus had given her before he left.

Porrima Carden-Black: 4/24/77

She had already gone through all of the names in the Black family without finding what she was looking for. Hermione flipped quickly to the C's and trailed a finger down the list.

Cabbort, Cachmen, Cagshire, Cahome, Callhart, Cammy, Capera...

Carden, Farrah L.: Slytherin. Sept 1972-Dec, 1976

Carden, Cheryl K.: Ravenclaw. Sept 1976-June 1983

Carden, Ralph: Slytherin. Sept 1941-June 1948

Hermione frowned. She'd been hoping to find Danika... not that it had been likely. The list continued to name members of the Carden family dating back to the 1700's. The one that stuck out to Hermione, though, was Farrah Carden. She didn't attend Hogwarts for the full seven years. Either the records were wrong (not likely) or she'd left before completing her fifth year.

Hermione scribbled down Farrah's full name and replaced the giant book. Veering left, she made her way to the back of the library to search the yearbooks.

It took her about ten minutes to find what she was looking for. Flipping through the pages of a dusty volume marked, 'Student Records: 1972,' she finally located Farrah.

An attractive, blonde-haired, 11-year-old smiled up at Hermione. The little girl scratched her nose and giggled, scrunching up her blue eyes with glee. Underneath her photo, was written her name and house (Slytherin). Hermione had been hoping to get an idea of why she had left. Perhaps she had fallen ill? Died?

Then, out of the corner of her eye, another name grabbed her attention. In the far left corner of the page, was the name 'Regulus A. Black: Slytherin'. He looked quite a bit like Sirius, Hermione decided, but with obvious differences. The Regulus in the picture was rigid, poised. His eyes were gray, like Sirius', but they didn't appear mischievous or cheerful, more angry than anything else.

So, Regulus was in the same year as Farrah Carden.

A light seemed to flick on inside Hermione's head. Once again, she glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand.

Porrima Carden-Black...

"Found anything?" came Harry's voice from behind her.

Hermione jumped; she dropped the book.

Harry reached down and picked it up. "Farrah Carden... but she's too old to be the same woman." He handed the yearbook back. Hermione noticed he was an odd pink color and his hair was damp, making it stick up at odd angles. He'd probably been on the Quidditch pitch.

"Harry... this Farrah girl was in the same year and the same house as Regulus Black, Sirius' little brother."

Harry furrowed his brow. "...And?"

"And according to the records... she left school before finishing her fifth year."

He still looked perplexed.

She handed him her scrap of paper.

"This is the name that Remus found in the Black's bank statements..." He seemed to be putting two and two together.

"What if Sirius wasn't the last living member of the Black family?" she began to get excited.

"Are you saying that Regulus got this girl pregnant when they went to Hogwarts?" Harry asked, dumbfounded. He scratched his head and stared intently at the book in Hermione's lap.

"That's exactly what I think happened," she stated firmly. "And I think she was forced to leave school soon thereafter."

"Porrima was born in April 1977... Farrah would have been, what... five months pregnant when she left school in December? Wouldn't someone have found out?"

Hermione shook her head, "She wouldn't have been very big at five months, the Hogwarts robes can probably conceal quite a bit. And, maybe her child was premature... who knows," Hermione took the piece of paper back from Harry.

"But, then why didn't Sirius know about her? And why isn't she on the family tree?" Harry sat down next to Hermione between the giant bookshelves.

Hermione thought for a minute. "Maybe Sirius didn't know... he ran away from home his sixth year, it isn't likely anyone from his family would have gone out of the way to tell him about it. And maybe she isn't on the Black family tree because it was an embarrassment to the family."

"It was 1977..."

"And, they did give her money for years afterward... what if their families struck up some sort of deal for her silence? The possibilities are endless." Hermione was feeling increasingly proud of herself for unraveling the mystery. Although, it would be difficult to prove.

"But what does this have to do with Danika Carden? We still haven't found a record of anyone with that name." Harry leaned his head back against the shelf and glanced at Hermione, hoping she'd have an answer.

Hermione smiled wickedly, "Unless, they're the same person."


The rest of the day went by in a blur. Harry taught the next few classes without further incident, although, he did have to go over his defeat of Voldemort twice more for curious students. And, Hermione received a marriage proposal from a hopeful 5th year Hufflepuff (quite amusing, in Harry's opinion).

Despite enjoying his time back at the school, Harry couldn't wait to get back to London to turn over the Pensieve to Remus and explain their findings.

When Harry arrived at Remus' flat, he pounded excitedly into the living room. Remus was lying on the couch, reading, with Tonks at his feet.

Harry didn't have a chance to feel embarrassed at his intrusion. He thrust the Pensieve into the older man's hand and smiled.

Remus was looking ill. The full moon would rise that night, and, despite the Wolfsbane potion, he would turn into a werewolf. His amber eyes sat back behind shadows and his skin was almost colorless. Tonks was running her fingers up and down his leg soothingly.

"Thank you, Harry," he said as he set the object down on the coffee table. "I have a few things I'd like to go through. If I remember anything useful, I'll let you know." He smiled at Harry and lay back against the sofa. "Did Hermione find what she was looking for at Hogwarts?"

Harry sighed, "There was a woman named Farrah Carden that was a year behind you at school... a Slytherin. We're not positive, but she may be Danika Carden's mother." Harry paused and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "She left school before her fifth year."

Remus nodded. He looked deep in thought. "I vaguely remember the name..."

Harry handed Remus the piece of paper with Porrima's name written on it.

"No mention of a Porrima Carden-Black, I assume?" Remus asked, waving the paper around.

Tonks grabbed it from him. "I'll run it through the channels at the Ministry... see if I can come up with anything. Maybe we'll get lucky and find a birth certificate."

"Porrima could be Danika, using a different name," Harry said confidently.

"That's entirely possible," Tonks said, nodding.

Remus massaged his temples. "Well, come back on Friday. We can discuss it further when we go to visit your Grandparent's old house."

In the excitement of their discovery, Harry had all but forgotten about the impending journey to Godric's Hollow. His stomach was full of nervous butterflies. Thanking Remus, he disapparated back to Grimmauld Place. The house was quiet as he brewed a pot of tea.

If Porrima was, in fact, related to Sirius somehow, they would find out. And hopefully, they could take Danika Carden down in the process.


-

Porrima - Gamma Virginis, A star in the constellation Virgo. Also, the Roman Goddess of Childbirth.

Omnia Vincit Amor - Love Conquers All