[a/n: I would just like to say thank you to everyone who's read this! It really means a lot to me. I apologize for the lack of updates—exams are a killer . but I'm out of school now so the updates should be more frequent! Hope you guys like the chapter!]

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own my own country. I'm working on the second one though, LOOK OUT! .

Chapter 4: A Few Helpful Items

Seven o'clock finally rolled around and Claire managed to get out of the portrait hole and down to the first floor without getting lost once (Bethany had had something else to do and said she would meet Claire outside). As she was just about to head down the elegant marble staircase, she heard a somber voice coming from down the hall that reached her ears at a curious moment.

She walked slowly toward the door, stopping a few feet away from it and listening closely to the voices inside.

"There's no point in hiding it from you any longer, Potter," she heard Professor McGonagall saying. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black—"

"I know he's after me," the voice of Harry Potter replied in almost a bored tone. Claire supposed that having particularly dangerous men after him was becoming almost routine by this point. "I overheard Ron's dad telling his mum. Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic."

There was a pause in which Claire whipped The Prisoner of Azkaban out of her bag. She read McGonagall's next line word for word as she said it.

"I see! Well in that case, Potter, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be practicing Quidditch in the evenings. Out on the field with only your team members, it's very exposed, Potter—"

"We've got our first match on Saturday!" Harry chimed in, right on cue. "I've got to train, Professor!"

Claire didn't need to hear any more, she knew the end of this conversation. McGonagall would consent to let Harry practice as long as Madam Hooch was there to supervise. Old news. Nothing an avid fan such as herself couldn't remember.

She leapt lightly down the marble stairs and pushed open the oak front doors, feeling a light breeze on her face. This world was so incredibly beautiful! The sky was turning an unusual shade of periwinkle as she walked thoughtfully along towards the Quidditch pitch, wondering what was awaiting her there that would be helpful in her mission to save Sirius Black.

"There you are!" Bethany called to her, walking around from the other side of the castle. Apparently she had been working in the greenhouses. "I was watching for you, what took you so long?"

"Oh, sorry, I was just—you know—looking at things," Claire said, waiting until Bethany caught up with her before continuing on her way. "Hey, Beth, I know this is like the third time I've asked you this today, but that other girl—Robin—why is it everyone avoids her? I mean, there's no way there can't be a reason for it, it's completely cruel the way everyone treats her—"

"First of all, if you're going to ask me a question, at least wait for the answer before you go on stereotyping all of us as 'cruel.' And secondly, you're right; I just didn't want to explain it to you in front of the entire class. There is a reason she has no friends," Bethany responded, readjusting the books that were toppling out of her arms, "and that reason is her parents."

"I don't understand," Claire asked with a confused look on her face.

"There isn't much to understand," Bethany said in a stony tone, "except for the fact that they were death eaters."

Claire felt all the blood drain from her face. If she had been reading the book, she would've gasped of course—but now that it was real, the fear became real too. Only a year or so from the particular day she was in right now, Voldemort would rise again and all his death eaters would return to him, begging for mercy. The thought made her sick to her stomach.

"I don't remember a death eater with the name 'Gregory', but my memory isn't the best. What did her parents do? And if they were death eaters, why is their daughter in Gryffindor?"

"That's what everyone has wondered since the Sorting Ceremony last year," Bethany said as they walked through the gate and under a tunnel that lead onto the Quidditch field. "No one can figure out how she got into the noblest house, famous for turning out aurors and Ministry of Magic leaders, when her parents were the scum of the earth—leaders in muggle torture and whatnot. No one talks to her, and she doesn't talk to us. It's kind of a non-verbal agreement we've made with each other. Hey—is that the thing we're coming to get?"

"What?" Claire asked, looking up. She had been so involved in the conversation that she hadn't even noticed that she was standing on the sidelines of the greenest field she'd seen in her life. The stands rose high into the air and she got a crick in her neck from looking up and the golden goal posts. She couldn't seem to wipe the smile off of her face as she ran towards a trunk that was placed neatly in the middle of the field where the Hogwarts crest was emblazed upon the grass.

"It's locked!" she said, tugging on the chain around the trunk's opening. Taking her wand out of her pocket and pointing it at the lock she exclaimed, "Alohomora!"

Click.

She opened the trunk and found that several things were inside, including what looked like a Sneakoscope, a Rememberall, a pair of ominoculars, and three rusty keys attached to a silver chain.

"Cool!" Claire said, watching Bethany scratch her nose again, and again, and again with the ominoculars. "This stuff is awesome! But..."

"But what?" Bethany asked, tossing the Rememberall from hand to hand.

"I don't understand why I have all these things," Claire asked. "What are they for?"

"Probably just stuff to have," Bethany replied. "No particular reason."

"Maybe," she replied, putting the ominoculars back up to her eyes and looking towards the other end of the stadium. She was moving them quickly back and forth across the stands, looking at random things. The goal posts, Lee Jordon's press box, a dog....

A dog?!

She flew back to the spot so quickly that she felt the omnioculars denting the skin around her eyes. And she saw him: a great shaggy black dog sitting in the first row, starting to walk away because he'd noticed that he'd been spotted.

"It's him!" she whispered in a serious voice. "STOP!"

She ran towards the stands, not knowing exactly what she would do or say if she reached him, but she knew she needed to stop him now if she could.

"Padfoot!!" she called, but by the time she'd reached the spot he was gone.

"Who the hell is that?!" Bethany asked, irritated and completely out of breath.

"A dead man if I don't do something about it," Claire answered. Turning back to her friend, she said, "Could you help me carry this stuff? I think I'm going to go to the library for a while. I have some things I need to research."

Not pausing to wait for a response, Claire rushed back to the trunk to make sure all the contents were safely secured inside. Bethany followed her back to the center of the field, muttering to herself.

"This is going to get old pretty fast..."

[a/n: DUN DUN DAAAAAAAAaaa! Is the author aware of how boring this chapter was?! Yes she is, but she's setting stuff up for later, so she apologizes a thousand times and advises you pay close attention! Are you guys ready for some Quidditch?! There'll be plenty in the next chapter, I promise! Thanks for reading everyone, you make me happy! ]