A/N: Hey! Look who's back,,,,within a month! And a new reviewer! Welcome J. Sorry this has taken awhile to get out, but I write more when I have time to actually do it, which I've had this past week. I do have to admit, though, your review was a fair bit of motivation J. Anyway, here's the new chapter,,,,if it's seeming to be dragging, well, it's partly because I'm trying to create something realistic here,,,,I've just read too many stories that have the OOC meet Sirius in one chapter and the next, they're all over him,,,,you know? Anyway, constructive criticism is always nice to have, and I saw that another person is on my favorite author's list,,,cool!

Chapter Eleven

Another week went by as Michaela started to really know her way around the castle without having to ask random students every five minutes where she was going.

Harry, unfortunately, landed himself another week of detention with Umbridge after losing his temper again. When he received even more detention during Umbridge's inspection of Care of Magical Creatures, Michaela decided it was time to talk to him if no one else was; otherwise he'd spend the rest of the year in detention.

Before he left for detention that night, Michaela took him aside. "Harry, wait up!" He waited as she ran to catch up with him in the hallway.

"I have to go to detention . . ."

"I know, I'll walk you there, I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes." They started walking again towards Umbridge's office.

"So..?"

Michaela sighed. "Okay, Harry, don't bite my head off, but hear me out, okay?" Harry nodded, wary. "I know Umbridge makes you angry—she does that to everyone, well, except for maybe the Slytherins because they're idiots, but . . ."

Harry grinned.

"So even if she makes you mad, you can't let her have the satisfaction of her knowing that she got to you—"

"She isn't getting to me!" Harry said, his voice rising.

"Hey, hey! Calm down, brother!"

Harry started to sulk.

"Okay, so even if she's not "getting" to you, you do know that that she makes you mad. Hell, she makes me mad. But use your anger and energy to throw it right back at her, but in calm tones. Use subtlety so that she can't call you on it—that's how you're going to beat her, my friend."

He didn't say anything as they reached Umbridge's office, but Michaela could tell—or hoped she could tell that she had made an impact on him.

"Oh, one more thing," Michaela said as Harry was about to enter Umbridge's office. "Sing songs in your head if you get bored; they'll keep your mood up. I personally enjoying "singing" Disney songs, but I'm sure you've got your own preferences."

Michaela was sure that she spotted a flicker of a grin on Harry's face as he walked in. Good, progress! Of course Harry wasn't going to learn to control his temper overnight, but it was a start.

Singing her own song in her head (Mulan's "Be a man" currently), she made her way across the almost deserted hallways. She spotted Snape on her way back to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Good night, Professor Snape," she said, turning to him. Snape looked rather shocked on the whole that someone had bid him a "good-night" He nodded curtly and started to head off when Michaela spoke to him again. "The potion we made last class, it was great! I never knew that potion-making could be so hard or complicated."

Snape stopped but then continued on without turning around.

"Well, anyway, thanks for letting me take your class, I know that I probably won't ever be that adept at it, but I'm enjoying what I've learned so far."

At that he stopped again and turned around. "I'm pleased to hear that you don't see Potions as something minutiae or insignificant. Good night Miss Woodburn."

Michaela waited until she turned around before she grinned broadly. Yes! she thought. The man isn't lifeless afterall! One point to me! She'd been trying to warm up to Snape for the past week since she started her beginners Potions lessons.

The man seemed forever annoyed with the world and never seemed happy.  His emotions were numbered to two: irritated and angry. He intrigued Michaela because of this and she sub-consciously started to try to win him over. She couldn't lay it on "thick" (because he might think that she was sucking up to him) and had to be sincere. And she was sincere. She truly did enjoy Potions.   

It was now past nine o' clock and the Gryffindor common room was only half-full. Having finished her homework and knowing that the thought of making another House-Elf sock or hat made her shudder, she headed up to her dormitory.

Parvati and Lavender were gossiping and thus didn't notice as Michaela surreptitiously stuck a mirror inside her sweatshirt and locked herself in the shower.

To anyone else, she was only taking a shower; the shower room was soundproof. Apparently the amount of singing that went on in showers at Hogwarts grew to large proportions with the amount of terrible singing far outweighing the mediocre. When people started buying earplugs so that they could brush their teeth or use the bathroom in peace, spells were put on the showers to block out the noise of the singers.

"Sirius?" Michaela spoke to the mirror, setting herself on one of the lush bath towels.

After a minute or two of calling his name, Sirius appeared. His face broke out into a smile, with "Hi Michaela!" then looked concerned. "What's wrong? Is Harry okay?"

"Oh, yes, don't worry."

"So what're you up to?" he asked.

"Not much, just been doing homework and croqueting clothes for House-Elves like crazy…"

"Don't tell me you're all for spew, are you?"

"Yeah…why?"

"Would you want to let House-Elves like Kreacher on the loose?" he smiled at his weak joke but Michaela wasn't convinced of his motives.

"Not all House-Elves are insane like Kreacher, Sirius," she said guardedly.

"Oh, really? Ever met one before?"

"Dobby…"

"Which proves my point completely!"

Michaela bit her lip. "Well, I refuse to believe that all House-Elves are insane, incapable of making rational decisions. I personally don't appreciate the fact that we in the Wizarding community can't treat other beings with the basic respect of not enslaving them."

Sirius' face tightened. "He's not my House-Elf, you know."

Michaela was startled "I'm not digging on you yourself, Sirius! I'm just saying that we could take a bit more responsibility in these kinds of situations. I agree that not all House-Elves are ready or ever will be ready for freedom, like Kreacher, but that doesn't mean we should use that to condemn all House-Elves."

Sirius sighed. "Yes, I s'pose you're right. It's just hard to think anything positive about House-Elves around here with Kreacher here…"

"What do you do all day?"

Sirius gave an ironic laugh. "Oh, it's very glamorous, I can assure you. Sitting around all day waiting for someone from the Order to talk to is the highlight of my day or talking to you—definitely the highlight of the week at least."

Michaela put on a face of mock airiness. "Well, you know…" She held her facial expression until she and Sirius both burst out laughing.

"See?" Sirius said after their laughter subsided.  "My first laugh all week…"

"Sirius, you need to find yourself a project to do, something that will keep you occupied. You'll go insane otherwise and I know, 'cause if you're laughing at my jokes and they're your highlight of the week, well, that's just ba-aaaaad."

"They are funny!"

Michaela grinned. "Uh-huh. Just like Harry loves Umbridge, right?"

"Umbridge? That Ministry lady? What happened?"

The mood, which had been playful and humorous, now turned serious.

"It's nothing, don't worry."

"Michaela…tell me what's going on." Sirius looked dead serious and Michaela didn't think that he was about to accept nothing from her.

"Well, he's just had a falling out with her…you know, about Voldie being back," she said, hurriedly adding, "Which is understandable, of course. How people could be so blind is beyond me."

Her attempt at trying to switch the conversation to focus on Voldemort himself failed as Sirius asked next, "A falling out? Did she punish him?" Michaela hesitated. "Did she?" he repeated.

Why am I so reluctant to tell him anything? she thought. He's not about to storm up to Hogwarts or do something else just as rash, is he? "He got detention. But he's fine…and I talked to him about losing his temper today—" Michaela covered her mouth. Oh crap.

"He's losing his temper? What else is happening, Michaela, and why haven't you been telling me all of this?" Sirius voice seemed as sharp as daggers.

"Nothing, I swear," Michaela said. "He's coming back from detention tonight, you can ask him yourself. But you don't have to be so mean about it…I'm not Harry's keeper, you know. This isn't like a major problem as in life-threatening and I told you I don't like the idea of spying on someone!"         

"Whether you wanted to spy or not, I gave you that mirror so that you could tell me about these—"

"I came here tonight because I wanted to talk to you for fun and to see how you were doing. But obviously that doesn't seem to be working out. If you want to hear about Harry so badly, you can talk to my uncle instead. Good-night."

Michaela flipped the mirror over, ignoring Sirius's replies and wrapped it up in towel to block out the noise. "Men…" Michaela muttered under her breath.

She decided to go downstairs to be in the company of Hermione, House-Elf knitting or no but found Harry to be in a shouting match with Ron and Hermione instead.

Michaela couldn't take it just right then and so she trudged back upstairs, followed shortly after by Hermione, who caught up with her. 

"So what was the whole hullabaloo about with Harry?" Michaela asked.

Hermione was hesitant. "We—I asked him if he would be interested in doing a sort of Defense Against the Dark Arts club…to help with our exams and to help against You-Know—Voldemort," she said with a rush. "…and he just lost his temper when we told him how good he was at Defense Against the Dark Arts, which he is, I don't know if you know all of the stuff—"

"Yeah, I know a fair bit. Defense Against the Dark Arts club, eh? Don't think Umbridge would like it much."

"Yes, but there isn't anything illegal about it, anyway, after Harry calmed down, I just asked him to think about it."

"Which is all you can do," Michaela said. "But damn it, he needs to learn to control his temper! He will get himself in some serious trouble someday if he doesn't."

"Yeah…" Hermione's voice trailed off, lost in thought, as they reached the door to their dormitory.

"'Night 'Mione."

"Good night Michaela."

*                           *                            *

Everyone was quiet at the breakfast table the next morning. Michaela was lost in thought about Sirius. She hadn't regretted her words to him the night before but she still felt a bit uneasy about the situation. Had she a right to be angry with him? Wasn't he after all just being protective of Harry? Wasn't he cooped up all day with nothing to dwell on but Harry and his hated house? Stop it, she told herself finally. No matter if his motives were good, he shouldn't expect you to baby-sit Harry.

Determined to break out of her uneasy mood, she tried to force cheerfulness at the table by trying to mimic the English accents that everyone had.

In an overly pompous voice, she announced, "Moy nayme is Meechaela Woodburn. Oi hoppen to live in the luvely state of Caleefornia." Hermione suppressed a grin while Ron outright laughed.

"Come now," Ron said. "You really think we sound like that?"

"Moy good man, this English aksent is nossing short of the luvely aksent that you speak of roight now, Oi dare say."'

That did it. Not even Hermione could hold back her amusement as everyone within earshot of Michaela burst out laughing.

"Fine, fine, okay," Michaela said, reverting back to her normal tone. "Let's see you try to speak like an American."

Ron was the first to try. "I am talking lyke an Uhmarrreecan. I is one cool cat."

Now it was Michaela's turn to laugh. She took on a rustic "dude" attitude. "Yeah, like, totally, dude. Righteous." Even Harry had to laugh at that. "You guys have GOT to see "Finding Nemo" sometime," she said. "It's such a good movie."

With the mood lightened, breakfast became a much more enjoyable affair. When the bell rang, they headed for their first period classes. After attending Pre-Calculus (learning about the six different functions and their inverses), Michaela headed down to Potions.

Since she was at an introductory level class, she was with all the first years—of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, that is.

"Get settled immediately," came Snape's voice as all chatter ceased. "Today you will be brewing a potion for a surprise grade." The class immediately started to groan but was cut off just as quickly by Snape's raised hand. "Shall I make it two potions?" The class shook their head silently as Snape put instructions on the board and told them to begin.

The potion (for curing warts) wasn't that hard but was just a long process that involved adding ingredients at exactly the right time and temperature. Snape walked around the tables, criticizing most people's potions and ignoring those whose potions were perfect.

As Michaela's potion was perfect, or as near as can be, he had nothing to say to her. That didn't mean that Michaela had nothing to say to him. "Professor Snape?"

Snape turned around, annoyed at the interruption.

"Is it possible to be able to use the potion after we're done? I've got this small wart on my little toe that I've had for years—"

"I doubt that anyone's potion in this classroom will be adequate enough to achieve the true desired effects."

"Yeah, maybe. But can I still try it?"

Snape wavered. "I will not be responsible for any injuries you may inflict upon yourself by your poor potion."

He swept away, off to criticize someone else's potion as Michaela wondered at her determination to befriend him. She couldn't explain why she felt this way but had a deep strong feeling that she needed to continue to try to make him become her friend. Kill 'em with kindness, she thought. I'll just have to wait for more opportune moments.

After potions she had her other two classes (AP British literature and American Government) and had the rest of the afternoon to herself. She decided to take a walk on the grounds, knowing that she'd probably get lost, but still enjoying the prospect of looking around.

She managed to find Hagrid's Hut fairly well since she went down there every other day for lessons. Hagrid was very friendly to her and she liked him immediately. He was very large, easily twice Michaela's size but the only thing she feared from him was a big bear hug. She already had her share of that from Fang, Hagrid's pet.

"Michaela! What yeh up to today?" Hagrid said, greeting her.

"Oh, nothing much. Thought I'd take a walk along the grounds."

"Lovely day to do that, it is," Hagrid agreed. "Unfortunately I have some business to attend to in Hogsmeade right now, so I'll have to be off."

"That wouldn't include drinking at the local bar, would it?" Michaela asked mischievously. She had heard all kinds of stories.

"O' course not! I don't drink on ta job." He looked offended.

"Hagrid! I was just kidding!" Michaela said, smiling.

"Oh. Right then. Well, I'll be off, say hello to the gang for me, will yeh?"

"Sure I'll see ya." Michaela headed off again, wandering around the grounds.  She found herself at the Quidditch Pitch and stayed awhile, watching the Hufflepuff team practice.

"I have got to get me one of those brooms," she said to herself, making a mental note to ask Harry later. Wandering around some more, she found the Owlery where the school barn owls along with the students' private owls were kept.

She was about to head back to school when an owl came flying in, spotted Michaela, and dropped a note in Michaela's hands.

"For me?" she asked the owl, puzzled. Who would be writing to her? The owl merely hooted as it flew to the shafts with the other owls and Michaela walked outside.

She unfolded the note, which had only two words on it. In black ink, it simply said, "I'm sorry."