Disclaimer: I suppose I wrote this enough times that everybody know now for sure, that the wonderful world of Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.

Author note: Then next chapter will probably be delayed – it will appear in about two weeks. I have an immense project to do for my studies, blah. Believe me, I'd love to write the next chappie instead:/

AND MOST IMPORTANT: THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! You guys are so great: I have over 100 reviews! Wow! Thanks! Wow! Ah! Ah! :)))))))))))

Author note 2:Thanks to Aln-Mai for helping with this awful thing called spelling. And another awful thing called grammar.

Chapter 12

James tried to calm down his best friend and followed him out of the Great Hall. Sirius was going so fast that James had to almost run to keep up with him.

"Padfoot! Calm down! You're overreacting!" Sirius turned back so abruptly that James bumped into him.

"Sorry..." he mumbled. Sirius glared at him angrily.

"Overreacting? I'M OVERREACTING?! What would you know about it! YOU have a nice, decent family, Prongs! You don't know what it's like to have parents sending you a letter each month to tell you that you'll be disinherited if you don't support this bloody murderer! You don't have a Slytherin brother who sat there all happy because some people got killed! You don't have a cousin and her fiancée who probably were there, throwing Avada Kedavras left and right! So DON'T tell me that I'm overreacting!"

James took a step back, abashed by Sirius' outburst. He didn't really know how to comfort his friend, but he was sure that if Sirius was enraged like that, nothing good could possibly come of it.

"I'm not saying that nothing happened, but the way you are acting now, you'll probably end killing someone yourself! You can't think properly when you're angry like this, Padfoot!"

Sirius scowled. His eyes were flashing dangerously, and he spoke with a low, cold voice.

"If I could, I would kill the person responsible, James."

James stared at his friend, bewildered. The fact that he used his name instead of his nickname was enough to convince him that Sirius meant what he had said. Yet, to hear him claiming that he would KILL someone, just like that—some of his apprehension had to be visible on his face, because Sirius continued with a sneer.

"Surprised? You shouldn't be. With the upbringing I got, I'm expected to be able to cast a killing curse without blinking an eye."

James groaned inwardly. He thought they were over this!

When Sirius was sorted to Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, James had needed much more time than the others to accept him. His father was an Auror, and he was educated not to trust members of families known to be Dark. Of course, the Black family fit quite nicely into that group.

It was probably the reason why their bond had grown so strong. It took them more than half a year to overcome the prejudices each of them had toward each other, but in the end, they learned to trust and respect each other. As a wise man had once said, true friendship can only be proven in times of misery, and it certainly applied to them.

And it was only few weeks after their relationship had started to be civil when James learned something about Sirius that never ceased to surprise him. Behind the mask of smugness, superiority and high self-esteem, Sirius was scared. He was truly scared that he would turn Dark just as every single member of his family had. He believed that being raised as he was, he was already Dark deep inside. And Sirius hated Dark magic more than anything.

Whenever he did something that he considered Dark, he would be remorseful for days. He would try to tell his friends that he actually was not worth their attention, their kindness. And it took a lot of effort to convince him that it wasn't true. Because Sirius did not trust himself.

James was unhappy to see that the murder in Hogsmeade had thrown his friend back into his old mindset. He looked at him sternly, choosing his words carefully.

"You can't feel responsible for—for what your family approves of. They raised you to believe in this rubbish, but you made your choice and that is enough. And you showed everybody that you truly meant it when you stood up to your mother the way you did! So stop this rant now!" He paused and looked at the other boy hesitantly.

Sirius met his gaze with even more bitterness than before.

"You just don't get it, Prongs, you just don't get it! I don't care what my family approves of or not! But when I see my brother there, smirking as if Christmas came early, then I just—I can't stand it! Bloody hell, they not only approve this "Mudblood-pureblood" rubbish, but also kill for it! So just tell me—tell me why shouldn't I feel murderous?"

The question hung in the air between them. James finally voiced the only thing that came to his mind.

"Well, you don't know for sure if they took part in it..."

"God, James! Of course they did! How would my brother know about everything otherwise?"

"From the Prophet, for example?" James retorted sarcastically.

"Please, James, spare me that. He knew it before the mail came! I was wondering why he was so cheerful the entire morning!"

James looked at him, puzzled.

"No—it doesn't make sense, Padfoot. If he knew before the mail came, then it wasn't your parents or cousins who told him."

Sirius blinked in surprise and then nodded slowly in acknowledgement.

"You're right..." he said thoughtfully. "They wouldn't tell him before the attack; he has too big a mouth to be trusted with secrets—and if he didn't know it because of them, it would've had to have happened before the mail came today. So—who told him? It must have been someone from Hogwarts, Prongs—someone from Hogwarts knew BEFORE!

They looked at each other and the decision was made within the moments. They were certainly going to find out. No more words were needed between the two friends.


Harry fought the urge to follow his father and godfather out of the Great Hall. Somehow, when he saw them so distressed, he forgot about all the hard feelings between him and them. It was nice to see them so angry with someone else for a change, but it was even better to know that they were actually bothered by the attacks.

Harry looked after them and than turned back to his housemates. Hermione and Ron were pale and speechless, still affected by the grim news. Lily read the article rapidly, her lips moving slightly.

And for the first time since his birthday, Harry started to think about Voldemort.

Thrown out of his time, he felt oddly safe, because here the Dark Lord knew nothing about him, nothing at all. In year 1976 he was not the Boy Who Lived—he was nobody. And he liked that.

The murders had thrown him out of this blissful illusion. Suddenly, he found himself dreading everything that had yet to come. The killings and terror. His parents' death. Cedric's death. And Sirius...

He looked around with terror in his eyes, and Lily noticed.

"Everything all right, Harry?" she asked in concerned voice.

Harry turned around and gazed at her for a brief moment, until he nodded slowly, comforted by her presence.

Although he wouldn't really admit it, he was more than just happy to have her—his mother—even if she didn't know he was her son. He only hoped that maybe he could build a similar relationship with his father and Sirius.

Hermione and Ron would probably be startled if they learned that Harry didn't want to go back home. Not at all.


Hermione played with her quill absentmindedly. It was a DADA lesson and quite an interesting one as well. During the first half, Lindberg had covered ways of protecting oneself from dragons and went through the complicated shields that were impenetrable by dragon fire. Hermione had never heard of them before, so she listened eagerly.

The second part of the lesson, however, was much less involving. Lindberg intended to teach them to duel properly, and different students were taking turns practicing while rest of the class was supposed to look for mistakes. It was rather boring, as the duels were rather slow and very primitive compared to what they did during DA meetings last year.

So, after few minutes of attempting to concentrate, Hermione let her thoughts drift away. She was mostly wondering about how the events in Hogsmeade had affected the students.

The attacks, since they had occurred in such close proximity to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had a significant influence on the rules at Hogwarts. The Hogsmeade trips were cancelled, and students were forbidden to leave the castle unless accompanied by an adult. It meant that there had to be a teacher present during all the Quidditch practices, and if lesson took place outside, students had to wait for an adult to pick them up from the entrance and walk them to the greenhouses or other places they needed to go.

As if to make the new arrangements even more unbearable, the weather was as beautiful as it could be in the first days of autumn. The sun shone brightly, and leaves had started to turn gold. It was warm and welcoming and every student shared the feeling that it was very unlikely for anything dangerous to happen to them outside.

Yet, of course, they all understood the gravity of situation. They accepted the new regulations without the protest, even if they were very strict. Hermione didn't think it was because everybody was so mature or sensible. The problem was that they were truly scared. More than once during last few days, Hermione had to help Lily calm down some of the younger students, who were reacting hysterically because a letter from their parents had not arrived on time, or because they'd had a bad dream.

Hermione looked out of the window and wondered grimly if it was the same in their time, with Voldemort back to power. Had anyone else been killed? Were people as afraid as they were here?

Suddenly the sharp voice of Professor Lindberg brought her back to reality.

"Miss Bradley! Would you kindly answer my question?"

Hermione stared at the teacher as if she had just noticed him, which wasn't far from the truth.

"Sorry, sir, could you, um—repeat your question?" she stuttered quietly.

"Why should I, Miss Bradley?" He turned to the class in general. "I believe I made it clear that it is essential that you concentrate during this lesson. Miss Evans! Can you repeat my question, so that your friend could answer it?" He demanded with a sneer.

"Professor Lindberg wanted to know what could have saved Helen from Pat's last curse," Lily replied and cast her friend a worried look. It wasn't normal for Hermione to not listen to the teacher.

"Um..." Hermione shifted in her chair uncomfortably. She had no idea, as she hadn't paid any attention to the fight.

"A—dodge?" she guessed.

"Honestly, Miss Bradley! Have you spent entire lesson in a dreamland? Did you even watch the duel?"

Hermione felt her cheeks go red with embarrassment. She shook her head slightly.

"Very well!" She could hear that Lindberg was really angry. "That means detention! I don't really understand how can you have such a careless attitude toward this subject, Miss Bradley, especially since the recent events which certainly showed how important it is to be able to defend yourself. Now, on with the lesson..."

Hermione sat unhappily while Lindberg continued with the analysis of the strong and weak points of Pat Parmesano's and Helen Figlet's (Hufflepuff) dueling technique.

Hermione was rarely criticized by teachers and Lindberg's harsh words had really upset her. She was scribbling angrily in her notebook when suddenly she noticed that nice, straight letters had started to appear on the paper. Sirius!

Hey, smile, detention is not the end of the world! Normally, Hermione just ignored Sirius' more or less subtle attempts to catch her attention. But this time, it was really nice that someone was comforting her. She smiled and whispered a spell quietly, making her writing visible on Sirius' parchment as well.

Thanks. I'm just not used to someone snapping at me like that, that's all, she replied.

Oh, I see. Well, that's the drawback of being home tutored, I guess.

Yes, maybe... Hermione didn't want to talk about her past or home; she didn't like lying, and knew that less she spoke, the smaller risk of slipping up there was.

Cheer up... I know! Would you like some company for detention?

What?

Just watch!

For a moment, nothing happened, but than a strange humming noise filled the classroom. Hermione looked around and noticed that it was coming from Snape. The Slytherin boy rose from his desk and started to sing to some strange melody:

"Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, itsy-bitsy, scrabby-dabby-doo!

I never wash my hair, I scare every girl away, only thing I can properly do...."

At first everybody was just staring at Snape, astonished, but the class soon burst out with laughter. Hermione heard Ron giggling madly behind her. Even some of Slytherins smirked viciously.

Lindberg rose and shouted "Finite Incantatem!" Snape stopped singing immediately and fell back into his chair. He was blushing with embarrassment and his fists were clenched.

"Who did that? Tell me at once, or you will all have detention for the rest of the week!" Lindberg's voice was cold with fury. His class had been interrupted for the second time in one day! All the laughs stopped at once and the students started to pretend that they knew nothing and hadn't found the joke amusing at all. Then Sirius stood up and spoke in a relaxed, smug manner.

"I believe it was me, sir." Everybody turned around and stared at the handsome boy, who smirked with his arms folded on his chest.

"Mr. Black! I expected better of you! Detention! For the whole week!" Lindberg was shouting now in uncontrolled rage. Sirius only nodded and sat back down, unperturbed by the teacher's outburst.

The lesson continued and Hermione started to write another note.

You are mad!

Some think so—but you should know that a week of detention is worth one evening in detention with you...

You are insane! And do you have to treat Snape like that? I mean, what did he do to you?

Snivelly? It would take years to tell! But it's enough to look at him, to get a good impression—slimy, greasy—ah, I apologize, I shouldn't speak like that in presence of such a charming lady. Let's change the subject, what were you thinking about?

What do you mean?

What were you thinking about, when you weren't listening to Lindberg before?

Oh, nothing important, really.

I see, you don't want to tell me. OK. I don't mind. I don't mind at all...

I can tell you if you have to know. I was thinking about fear. And about the attacks. And about the future...

Ah, very serious matters. Are you afraid of what's going to happen?

Sort of. It's rather complicated—are you?

I guess I'm more afraid of what I will do than what will happen to me, if you know what I mean...

Hermione shivered when she read that. Poor Sirius, if he only knew—if he only knew how terrible things were going to happen to him, he wouldn't write that—but ,of course, she had to pretend that she knew nothing about the future...

Yes, I know.

But maybe that's because I have less to lose than others, because I don't really care.

What do you mean by "less to lose than others"?

Nobody told you? My family is as pure-blooded as they come, so I don't really risk losing it—not that I would mind that much, to be honest...

The bell rang and interrupted their conversation. Hermione and Sirius stayed behind, because they had to learn what their detention was. Lindberg only told them to come to his office at eight o'clock in the evening and dismissed them. He obviously didn't want to deal with them any more than he had to, so they left the classroom in a rush.

Ron, Lily and Harry were waiting for Hermione outside, and James stood there as well. Two rather unfriendly groups of teenagers walked in the opposite directions from the classroom, except for when Sirius turned back and waved to Hermione.

"See you in the evening!"