a/n: back again! And yay! Update-age. Thank you lovely reviewers...for your...uh...lovely reviews! N Stuff! I wish to again emphasis my gratitude towards everyone who corrected my Howler mistake. Mostly it's because I haven't read the fifth book in its entirety since it came out, and I have the memory of a goldfish. giggles Angel is not back yet, nor has Faith arrived in Sunnydale. These events will take place, but with an absence of the Willow-y nature. No one objected to using more classes in my story, and most of them will be from DADA. I just love my professor Kehoe. Willow will, perhaps sadly, not ever be in the possession of a Swamplight Lynx, but our previous kitty friend may make another cameo.

Note to Pixie of Chaos: much to my extreme embarrassment, it does state that Dumbledore sent the Howler. However, you love me very, very much and we will never speak of this again. And I still think that you should write that Jasmine/Kitty story, because it will make me laugh, and hey! Laughter is of the good! Update soon or I will do something thoroughly unpleasant! Ooh! And...let's never speak of a certain phone call again. We can just pretend that you were visiting J, okay?))

Chapter 3 of Unexpected Losses

Petunia Dursley pulled up into the driveway of number four Privet Drive, and parked the car. Most of the trip Willow had been staring out the window, leaving Petunia to puzzle whether she enjoyed the scenery or was just very depressed. Understandably, she wasn't betting on the former. "Are you hungry, Willow, dear?" She finally asked, when they'd both headed to the trunk to retrieve Willow's belongings.

"A little bit." Willow admitted, and then most embarrassingly, her stomach growled loudly.

"A little bit?" Petunia asked, with a genteel smile. Willow blushed in response and pulled out the second pair of her suitcases. "I'm afraid we're right at the beginning of remodeling the guest room. Until December, you'll have your own room, but then you'll be sharing with Dudley's cousin, who goes to a boarding school."

"That's quite alright, Mrs. Durs--Aunt Petunia." Willow answered with just a touch of discomfort. "I don't really mind. It'll be almost like a really long sleepover just with a guy, well, a guy I don't know, but that's not a problem, 'cause...." Willow paused mid-babble. She had to remember that she wasn't home anymore. Willow-babbles were not to be easily understood in this place. "I mean, it's no trouble."

Petunia seemed relieved at her somewhat more sensible answer. "Harry goes back to school at the beginning of January, though, and your room should be finished by April." She stopped speaking and picked up two of Willow's suitcases with one arm. With some difficulty, she shut the trunk door of her car, took one of the valises from her other arm, and headed into the house.

Willow trailed slightly behind her, quiet again. This was to become her home for the next however-long that she would be there. Petunia went in ahead of her, and left the door open for Willow to follow. She did so, and was profoundly surprised by the sheer cleanness of the home within. It was ridiculously tidy, how a teenager lived here, Willow couldn't guess.

Unless, of course, he was anally neat, something that would bother any American. Luckily, Willow was an organized person, and liked her mess...well, not messy. Xander would go crazy here, it sufficed to say. Expecting, at any moment, for the walls to start sparkling like extraordinarily clean things did in cartoons, Willow quickly followed Petunia towards what would be her new room.

"Now, then, it's a bit late for tea, but we'll make it a light affair, you've still got to save room for dinner. We'll be having my personal favorite. Roasted chicken...do you like chicken, dear?" Petunia asked, then, with an expression that Willow could almost describe as a wince.

"Oh, yes, ma'am. I'm just not used to it...Mom and Dad were gone a lot, and I'm not a very good cook. Mostly frozen dinners for me. And sandwiches, you do grow a certain respect for sandwiches over time." Willow smiled grimly to herself at Petunia's look of shock, as if she'd never heard of such a thing.

"Oh, we'll take care of that, dear. I pride myself on my cooking...I do hope you'll like it." Petunia answered, leading Willow to what would be her new bedroom. Petunia opened the new door they'd bought for the room. It wouldn't do to have a cat flap on Willow's door, and no cat, so they'd had to replace it. "This will be your room, Willow. I started dinner before I left to pick you up. I'm just going to check on it. I'll be right back to help you settle in."

"That's okay, Mrs. --Aunt Petunia. I can do it myself. Besides, I'd really rather just have something to keep me busy for a while." Willow answered. Partly, because that was true, but also because she didn't want Petunia to end up unpacking the wrong valise and end up with some of her witch-y possessions. It was safer to just take care of those things by herself. Petunia nodded almost sadly and headed out of her bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

Willow surveyed the room quickly. It wasn't extremely big, and most likely the smallest bedroom in the house. There was a wardrobe against one wall, and a closet. A bureau was on the wall opposite the closet, and a bunk-bed was next to the window, pushed to the corner of the room. Both beds were bare, but both also had the supplies to make them at the foot. Willow placed her four suitcases in the middle of the floor, and set about unpacking them one at a time.

The clothes were easy to handle. She took half the dresser and half of the closet, assuming that Harry would also need half when he returned halfway though December. Might as well be used to keeping her clothes in check. She placed the empty valises on the closet floor, beneath her clothes, piling each onto the other neatly.

Kneeling in front of the last suitcase, opening it away from the door, she fondly viewed the possessions she couldn't part with. At the top was a layer of bubble wrap, which Willow unpacked with a grin, knowing that even the protection of her valuables was important (and hey, let's admit it: fun). Easily, she picked up a newspaper-wrapped ambiguous object, which turned out to be a rose quartz focusing stone. It was nearly clear, an important factor in using her magic. The stone was pure, and Willow cupped it in her palm fondly, reveling in the warmth of it.

She placed the stone aside, and reached for another item. Unwrapping the next, it was a small glass cup, used for catching the burned-out portions of incense. The glass had been carved, intricate designed, and Willow gently set it aside, wondering if the Dursleys would allow her to use incense in their overly-clean home. Part of her doubted it.

It took less time than she'd at first expected to unpack. Everything that wouldn't be too obvious was about the room. The rest she carefully put away in the side-table by the bottom bunk, which was the one she chose and made. Her laptop was sitting on her made bed, and Willow sat next to it, wondering what to do with all of her pictures. She didn't want to take over the room with pictures of people that her roommate didn't know, but she didn't want to keep them in her suitcase.

The answer was surprisingly simple, and it was also something that would keep her busy for as long as she wished to be. "Scrapbook." She said aloud. "Wonder if Mrs. Dursley will take me out to buy some supplies."

"Willow, dear!" She heard a faint call from downstairs. "Would you like to eat something now?" Willow didn't want to make a bad impression, but she was hungry, and if Mrs. Dursley was offering, she obviously didn't care that much.

Instead of hollering back, Willow headed downstairs and into the kitchen, which was also extremely clean. "Yes, ma'am." She answered upon catching Petunia's eye. "I was wondering, could you take me to a store sometime soon, please? I've got a lot of pictures from back home. I was thinking of making a scrapbook."

"Of course, dear." Petunia answered, gesturing for her to sit down. Petunia placed a cup of tea in front of Willow, and a small plate of biscuits followed. "Would you like anything else? Or anything for your tea?"

"Sugar, please." Willow answered, eyeing the cookies before her with open interest.

"How many lumps?" Petunia asked, holding a small cup.

Willow didn't answer, at first, thoroughly entertained by the thought of lumps of sugar. "Two." She finally spoke, trying not to seem rude by giggling. "Thank you." She stirred the tea.

"Have you had much tea before, dear?" Petunia asked, sitting down to her own cuppa. "I'm surprised, I didn't think many Americans did."

"I don't think many do." Willow answered, honestly. "Two years ago, my school got a new librarian. Rupert Giles. He's British. I've worked in the Library for him a lot. With things like research and cross-referencing. He kind of got me to like drinking it. I really like Mint tea." Willow admitted. "Have you ever tried it?"

"Oh, yes." Petunia answered. "I like it very much myself. I'll buy us some, and this way I won't be out-voted for it." Petunia laughed softly.

"I don't mean to be any trouble." Willow answered into her tea before taking a sip. Petunia seemed surprised at the thought. She shook her head to negate Willow's words, but before she could speak, the door opened.

Petunia jumped to her feet and headed for the door. Willow guessed that it would be Dudley, home from school. The pair returned to the kitchen. Willow was slightly surprised at the immensity of Dudley. He wasn't extraordinarily tall (though taller than her), but he was very muscular. His blonde hair was short and windswept. If the pictures Willow had briefly spotted in the living room were any clue, this Dudley had lost a lot of weight, and replaced most of it with muscle.

He looked like a living brick wall. Strong, but slightly slow.

"Hi." He greeted her briefly in a deep voice. Within a moment, Petunia lay a tea out for him as well, and he joined the pair at the table.

"Hi." She answered softly, taking a sip of tea, to break their eye contact. He had the palest blue eyes she'd ever seen, his stare was unnerving. "I'm Willow."

"Dudley." He answered, and shook her proffered hand. Willow did her best not to wince under his crushing grip. "I'm sorry about your parents, Mum told me." Willow nodded, and again took a sip of tea, but this time to help swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She didn't want these people to be sorry about her parents. She wasn't ready for them to be sorry for them. Not yet.

"Yeah." She finally answered near-inaudibly. "Me, too."

"That was an awesome lesson." Harry reported to Ron as they left their Defense class, a few weeks later. "I don't want to say it, but she may be better than Lupin. Maybe it's just because what we're studying is more interesting."

Ron shrugged in response. "I just hope she makes it until next year. I don't want to think that we might lose another good defense teacher. Next thing you know, we're going to have another Umbridge on our hands. If it comes down to that, I'll take a page from Fred and George's books and get outta here. Like they said, it's just a N.E.W.T.s year."

"I'd still stay, thanks." Harry answered. "Even another Umbridge has to be better than the Dursleys. Wouldn't swear to that, though."

"No problem." Harry answered. "So, what do we follow up that lesson with?"

"Double Transfiguration." Ron answered, rolling his eyes. Harry knew their schedule just as well as they did, but for some reason, he was always asking what class they had. "Just like every other Tuesday."

"Did you finish your homework?" Harry shot back.

"Of course, Harry. I'm dating Hermione." Ron answered, and received a sharp glare. "Which has nothing to do with the fact that I did my homework. Because I'd do my homework anyway, and Hermione is so distracting that she makes me get less done. You know, because she's so awe-inspiring that I just can't do anything around her but stare." He added very quickly, scrambling for words.

"Nice save." Harry remarked conversationally. "And look, you made her blush."

Hermione glared darkly at Harry, and headed very purposely towards their classroom. "Thanks, mate." Ron whispered gratefully to Harry before rushing to follow his girlfriend. Harry laughed and adjusted his bag before setting after them.

"Welcome." He answered to himself, grinning at his two best friends.

Walking into the classroom, he deposited his essay scroll on McGonagall's desk on the pile of others. He took his customary seat next to Ron and behind Hermione. The class settled themselves before McGonagall entered the room. She swiftly took her place at the front of the room, effectively cutting off the whispers of the class. "Thank you for your silence. I assume that means somehow you know what we're doing today." McGonagall spoke.

"Very well, then. For those of you who mind your own business and are properly confused, today we're going to explore our Animagi forms. On each of your desks, there should be a set of vials. In each set there are six vials. There are two sets of three. One is clear, the second is amber, and the last is bright blue. Does everyone have three vials in front of them?"

No one spoke. Most of the class was studying the potions before them. The amber-colored one seemed to quickly palpitate from a pale yellow to a dark gold, and the "bright blue" was actually an electric blue, and grew brighter and dimmer in a slow pulse. "I'll assume that's a yes." McGonagall continued, rolling her eyes skyward.

"Very good." She added, glancing around the room. "Now, if there is a volunteer?" Half of the class raised their hands, from both the Gryffindor and Slytherin sides. "Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, please bring up your vial set, and come to the front of the class. Mr. Weasley, we'll begin with you." Ron and Harry carefully carried up their potions. "You won't need your wand."

Ron handed Harry his wand, and stepped in front of McGonagall. "The important thing, children, to know, is that this will not make you and Animagus. This will simply show you your form, and allow you to remain within your Animagus long enough to gain control of your alternate being. That way, should you decide to become and Animagus there won't be any unpleasant...surprises.

"Alright, Mr. Weasley. Anxious, I see. Please drink the clear potion. As for the potions, you will be addressing these with Professor Snape..." Professor McGonagall added as Ron downed the vial holding the clear substance. "Concentrate, Mr. Weasley." She snapped suddenly, as the redhead who adopted a rather vapid expression.

Ron jerked to attention. "Now, Mr. Weasley, think, please, about yourself. Exclude relationships and outward emotions. When you're mind is clear of everything but you, say Mutego, drink the amber potion, and say Mutego Abeofera."

Ron didn't move for several minutes. Just when the rest of the class was about to loose their attentiveness, he spoke, "Mutego." Then he swallowed the amber potion in two large gulps. Then, "Mutego Abeofera."

The change was slow, and slightly grotesque. It was much slower than McGonagall's first display of her own Animagus form. First, he grew hair all over his face and arms (where his skin was visible). His ears pointed upwards and seemed to slide up the side of his face. The front of his face pushed forward while his feet elongated, and the his heels shifted to an odd position. The balls of his feet and his toes formed black pads beneath him as his torso grew longer, and his legs shrunk and shifted.

Two or three minutes after the change began, Ron was no longer human. He was in the form of an absurdly large reddish (and gray and white) timber wolf.

"Why is he so big?" Hermione spoke, not taking her eyes from her boyfriend.

"He's no regular wolf, Ms. Granger. He is a direwolf." McGonagall answered. "Mr. Weasley, please go and sit next to Mr. Finnegan."

The wolf bared its teeth at her, momentarily Ron was lost to his own instincts. "Mr. Weasley!" She snapped sharply. "To Mr. Finnegan." The wolf paused its growling and sat on it haunches, cocking its head at her. "Now!" She added. The wolf lolled out its tongue as if in agreement, and briskly walked next to his classmate. Seamus tilted his head to one side, and smiled widely when Ron copied the movement.

With Seamus and Ron both sitting down, the wolf's eyes were just below Seamus'. Ron, standing, in his Animagus form was about four and a half feet tall.

"Whoa." Hermione spoke under her breath. Ron cocked his ears up, and headed towards her, keeping slightly close to the ground. She reached out, finger shaking, and pat him awkwardly on the head. He seemed to enjoy it, so she continued stroking him. To her amusement, he wagged his tail. A moment afterwards, he headed to the front of the classroom and stood in front of McGonagall. He slowly reclaimed his usual form, a forlorn look in his eye.

"Mr. Weasley, please drink the blue potion." McGonagall spoke, and he downed the substance.

"Blueberry." He muttered afterwards. "I am going to be an Animagus no matter what it takes." He declared under his breath. "That was the most wicked thing I've ever done. Ever."

Harry gave both of their wands to Ron, anxious for his own turn. McGonagall suppressed a laugh at that. She meet his emerald eyes, and held out a palm. "Hand me your glasses, Mr. Potter." He did so, and McGonagall was slightly surprised at the brightness of his eyes without them being caged with his spectacles. "Now, Mr. Potter, drink the clear potion." He did so.

"Please, think about yourself. Exclude relationships and outward emotions. When you're mind is clear of everything but you, say Mutego, drink the amber potion, and say Mutego Abeofera."

This pause was nearly twice as long as Ron's had been, but no one in the class looked away. They were all interested in what the Harry Potter would become. Finally, "Mutego." He drank the amber-colored potion. "Mutego Abeofera."

Nothing happened, at first. Nearly five minutes passed in fact, but then Harry Potter began to change.

(a/n: that's all for today. Hoped you enjoyed it. Yay! More out soon, I promise. Review! Tell me whatcha think!)