Title: Harry Potter and the Werewolf of Azkaban
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, settings or anything else from Harry Potter.
Warnings: AU
Chapter Three
"Well, well, well." Draco leaned into the compartment, shadowed as always by the heavy figures of Crabbe and Goyle. "Potty, Weaselby, the Mudblood and...what is that?" Draco curled his lip in distaste at the sight of Crookshanks prowling menacingly around the compartment.
"It's a cat, Malfoy, are you blind as well as stupid?" Harry snapped.
"You call that ragged bag of fleas a cat? Was that all you could afford, Weasley? Spent all that gold already, have you?" Draco sneered. Ron's ears burned red.
"Actually, Crookshanks is mine, and he doesn't much like the smell of you by the look of it, Malfoy," Hermione retorted. She was right; Crookshanks was hissing and spitting, back arched, tail swishing from side to side like a cobra poised to strike.
"Oh, save me, save me!" Draco squealed in mock-terror, striking a dramatic pose with one hand to his forehead like a damsel in distress. Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle chuckled darkly. "That mad thing couldn't scram its way out of a paper bag, and if anything smells in here it's the stench of your dirty blood!"
Ron and Harry leapt to their feet at the same moment, wands ready and aimed at Malfoy, who had drawn his own, flanked by the towering Crabbe and Goyle. As the tension reached boiling point, Crookshanks chose his moment, and pounced.
"Ow! OW! Owowowowowow! Hermione, gerrim off me!" Ron bellowed, fighting with Crookshanks while trying to hold Scabbers out of the reach of the cat's sharp teeth and claws. In the doorway, Draco and his henchmen were doubled up with laughter.
Hermione wrenched Crookshanks off Ron and held the struggling animal tightly. "Hush, Crookshanks, settle down," she crooned, while the cat hissed and spat and reached with razor-sharp claws for Ron.
"That bloody animal!" Ron roared over Draco's laughter. "I'll hex him into next week, but not before I hex you -" He whirled and aimed again at Draco, ready to fling every curse he knew at the Slytherin bully. His mouth opened to form the curses, and then the breath went out of him.
The train was growing dark and cold; a creeping cold that settled in every students chest, that worked its way into the bones and chilled the blood. Harry felt a sinking feeling, like falling from a great height, the compartment was swimming in and out of focus as if wreathed in icy mist. Ron shivered convulsively; Hermione clutched Crookshanks to her like a lifeline; Draco's sneering face was twisted into a rictus of terror; Crabbe and Goyle whimpered softly, Harry heard the sound as if from far, far away.
"What's happening?" he tried to say, but the words were slurred and froze on his lips. Draco pointed in mute horror to the opposite door, and Harry turned to see a terrible figure in tattered black robes, a hand like a dead thing that reached for him, specifically for him, icy-cold and a whispering breath like a death-rattle before the compartment slipped out of focus entirely.
A screaming in his ears - far off voices - screaming - screaming - flash of light - green light - no more screaming - silence - and
"Harry? Harry?" Hermione's voice was anxious and low.
"Harry? Come on, wake up, mate," Ron, too.
Harry struggled out of the icy darkness and blinked at the light. The world was still out of focus, but this was because his glasses were missing.
"What-" he began, before being cut off by Madame Pomfrey.
"Now, young man, you just lie there, don't get up! Don't move! Honestly, bringing Dementors into a school, it's a wonder these children survive at all; quidditch and basilisks and goodness-knows-what...." she trailed off into a low tirade against the dangers of the school. Harry lay still for a moment, then reached out for his glasses.
"Here," Ron passed them to Harry, who muttered his thanks before donning them. He glanced around, and found himself in the hospital wing. The place was becoming quite familiar, he thought drily.
"Here, eat this," Madame Pomfrey said, pushing a huge chunk of chocolate into Harry's hands.
"Why? What happened?" Harry was surprised at how small his voice was.
"It was a Dementor," Madame Pomfrey said, still bustling around, and Harry saw that there were other people in beds around the infirmary, all looking very pale and weak. "One of the Azkaban guards, and what the Minister thinks by sending them here I'm sure I shall never know. Eat that chocolate!"
Harry obediantly began eating his way through the huge slab of chocolate, and waited until she had moved off before asking Ron and Hermione for the full story.
The Dementors had moved along the train as if they were looking for something. One had broken off from the rest, had entered Harry's compartment, had reached out as if to touch him. Harry had fainted, and the Dementor had leaned close over him. Then, from nowhere it seemed, Dumbledore and McGonagall burst onto the train and cast spells at the Dementors; huge silver shapes that drove the Dementors away. Then they had magicked up stretchers and carried Harry and the worst affected students up to the infirmary.
"Did...did anyone else hear...screaming?" Harry asked tentatively, hoping the answer would be 'yes' but expecting a 'no'.
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances before shaking their heads. Harry nodded, and leaned back weakly. The chocolate was working, warmth was spreading slowly through his death-cold limbs and alleviating some of the heavy dread in his chest, but all the strength seemed to have gone out of him.
"Com on now, out you go!" Madame Pomfrey ordered, steering Ron, Hermione and the other visitors in the infirmary in the direction of the door. "They need rest, and the feast is beginning shortly so out, please." Ron and Hermione waved apologetically at Harry and left. Harry lay still in his bed and finished his chocolate before gently drifting into blissfully dreamless sleep.
When Harry woke next morning, he found that his drained strength had returned, and Madame Pomfrey reluctantly allowed him to leave the infirmary and go down to the Great Hall for breakfast. The Hall was crowded and noisy with the chatter of students. He could see Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, waving at him, and he began to make his way over to them.
"Hey, Potter!"
Harry grimaced at the sound of Draco's mocking voice and considered ignoring it for a moment before deciding that whatever lies were being spread about him, it might be better to know about them.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
"Is it true that you fainted?"
Harry coloured angrily, but couldn't deny it. "Yeah," he said, and the Slytherin table burst into laughter. "Mind you, I don't seem to remember you being so heroic. In fact, wasn't it you they found curled in a ball, crying for your Mummy?"
The sneer on Draco's little pointed face morphed instantly into a frown. "You can't prove anything, Potter."
"Can't I? Why don't you ask Crabbe or Goyle. Oh wait, you can't, because they were too busy wetting themselves with fright."
Crabbe and Goyle rose at the same moment, wands drawn, cheeks flushed with anger. Harry drew his own wand, curses spiking in his throat, before:
"What is going on here?" The unpleasant drawl of, who else, Harry's Potion's Master, Severus Snape. Harry turned to see him surveying the scene with a look of barely-concealed triumph in his eyes. "Fighting in the Great Hall? Well, well, well, and only the second day. I hope we are not beginning as we mean to go on, Mr Potter. However, I think a night's detention and ten points from Gryffindor will teach you a lesson."
"But Malfoy, sir-"
"Do not argue with me, Potter. Report to my office, Friday night, seven o'clock /sharp/. Now get to your table." Harry needed no further prompting and stormed off, burning with rage at the blatant unfairness of it.
"What was that all about?" Ron asked as Harry slumped onto the bench and began furiously buttering a slice of toast.
"That was Malfoy being Malfoy, and Snape being Snape, and me getting detention." Harry growled, sending a look of utter loathing towards the Slytherin table, where Malfoy and his entourage were laughing amongst themselves.
"He gave you detention? What for?" asked Hermione, incredulously. Harry told them.
"That git!" Ron said, glaring at Snape, who was seated at the teachers' table with Hagrid to his left and a small, plain-looking witch Harry didn't recognise to his right.
"Hang on," Harry said, frowning. "What's Hagrid doing up there with the teachers?"
"Don't you -" Hermione began, and then, "oh, of course, you weren't here last night. The old Care of Magical Creatures teacher retired, and Hagrid's been given the job!"
"Wicked!" Harry smiled broadly and waved at Hagrid, who was beaming with pride. "When's our first lesson with him?"
"Here's your timetable," Hermione passed him a slip of parchment on which she had copied out his classes, then consulted her own. "Looks like right after lunch, yes. Divination first, though, and that's right at the top of the North Tower, so we'll have to hurry. Then Muggle Studies, and Arithmancy, then -"
"Hang on, Hermione, let me see that," Ron said, pulling Hermione's timetable out of her hands and comparing it to his own. "Something's gone wrong here. Look, all your lessons are at the same time. How are you going to be in three places at once?"
"Come on, we'd better get to Divination, hadn't we?" Hermione said, deftly avoiding Ron's question.
"Who's that?" Harry pointed at the witch sitting to the right of Snape.
"Professor Fell, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. We haven't got her until Friday. Come on, we're going to be late!"
"Heaven forbid that Hermione Granger should ever be late for a class." Ron muttered to Harry, who attempted to smother his smile before following Hermmione.
Sirius,
Harry tapped his quill on the parchment, uncertain as to what he should write. His return to Hogwarts certainly had been...interesting.
There are Dementors everywhere, all around the castle, although Dumbledore won't let them come onto school grounds, which is just as well since I seem to be the only person who reacts to them by fainting and the last thing I need is to faint every time I walk past one. Can you imagine Malfoy and the Slytherins?
I've got detention with Snape already, and it wasn't my fault. He said I was starting a fight in the Great Hall, which is completely unfair since it was Malfoy who started it. Crabbe and Goyle both threatened me, but they've only got lines. Fortunately, we haven't had Potions yet (That's tomorrow, right after DADA).
Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class was brilliant. He started off with Unicorns, and said that he wanted to do Hippogriffs, but dangerous creatures like that need 'too much paperwork'.
Everyone's talking about Lupin here. Everyone is obsessed with werewolves, and Hermione says that all the books about Dark Creatures have been taken out of the library - like last year, with the Chamber of Secrets - and she's fuming, because, well, you know Hermione and research. You'd think she'd be glad that she couldn't do any extra work what with all the /school/- work she's got. Ron and I can't work out how she's getting to all her classes, since her timetable is all doubled-up. Her Divination, Muggle Studies and Arithmancy lessons are at the same time, but she's getting to all three of them. /How?/
Speaking of Divination, Professor Trelawney says that I have a deadly enemy, that I should be wary of the moon, that my lifeline is disturbingly short, that she fails to See any kind of future for me (apart from the previously-mentioned) and that I have the Grim, whatever that is, but Professor McGonagall says that Professor Trelawney predicts the death of a student in each of her classes and nobody has died yet, so I can't use it as an excuse for not doing her homework.
So, is there any chance of me getting permission for Hogsmeade? The first weekend is coming up in October and everyone is really excited abut going. It's supposed to be brilliant, and Lupin wouldn't dare come this close to Hogwarts, would he?
Write back soon,
Harry.
Harry read the letter through again and decided that it would do. He folded it carefully, sealed it, and set off to the Owlery. Hedwig was dozing on her perch, but soon woke up with the offering of an owl treat.
"To Sirius, okay? Sirius." Harry told her, stroking the glossy snow-white feathers. Sirius had bought Hedwig for him as a birthday present, on that day in Diagon Alley when his whole world had been tipped upside down. Harry remembered the first time Sirius had turned up at Number Four, Privet Drive, on the enormous motorbike, holding Harry's Hogwarts letter and with Hagrid in tow. Sirius had shouted at the Dursleys, threatened Dudley, had been generally terrifying, but Harry couldn't help but like him instantly. There had been something comfortingly familiar about Sirius, and Harry had trusted him. Sirius had taken him away from the Dursleys, to Diagon Alley - Harry vividly remembered the blissful shock of discovering that he was /famous/, rather than just a scrawny, messy nuisance.
Hedwig gave Harry a little affectionate peck before spreading her wings and flapping off out of the window. Harry watched her until she was a glittering speck on the horizon, then turned away.
It was a clear autumn day, with just the slightest hint of chill in the air. The Forbidden Forest, even in the bright sunshine, was dark and, well, forbidding, as if even the light feared to enter it. Harry had been in there twice before, once in first year, for detention, once in second year, when he and Ron had met the giant spider, Aragog. Malfoy had said that werewolves lived in the Forest, but Malfoy was an idiot and a coward, who had turned tail and fled at the slightest rustle of leaves, and besides, the full moon was gone. So there was absolutely no reason for Harry to feel apprehensive at the sight of the dark, watchful trees, or feel the tingling sensation that something was watching him. Somebody, his mind insisted, Lupin, and that was ridiculous. Nobody could survive in the Forbidden Forest alone, except Hagrid, but Hagrid was more than capable of dealing with any monster that the Forest threw at him.
Harry shook off the feeling and made his way slowly up to Gryffindor Tower, where a sizeable pile of homework awaited him.
"Harry!" Hermione cried as he clambered through the portrait hole. "Look at this!" She thrust her copy of The Daily Prophet at him. Harry blinked in surprise, took it, and began to read.
WEREWOLF SIGHTINGS IN HOGSMEADE!
Many residents of the village of Hogsmeade have reported sighting a beast which they believe to be a rogue werewolf. "It was much bigger than a normal dog," says Maude Fletcher, who has lived in the village all her life, "and we don't get wolves round here no more, so it must be a werewolf, mustn't it?"
The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had this to say: "All registered werewolves were accounted for and spent the full moon in their designated Ministry holding-areas. It really must have been a very large wild dog."
When asked about the possibility that the alleged werewolf was none other than escaped convict Remus Lupin, the Minister agreed that this was a possibility, warning residents of the village to remain on their guard and not to venture out of doors on full moon nights...
"Well that's torn it. That's really torn it." Harry crumpled the Prophet and tossed it into the fireplace of the Gryffindor common room before sinking miserably into an overstuffed chair. "Sirius'll never sign that Hogsmeade form now!"
"You know, I did actually pay for that paper, Harry, and I hadn't read it yet," Hermione said, rather reproachfully.
"It's a load of rubbish," Harry told her. "If they honestly believe that Lupin would come this close to Hogwarts, they're as mad as he is."
"There's a werewolf in Hogwarts?"
"No, some people from Hogsmeade claim to have seen one, but Fudge says it couldn't have been a registered one and that it must be Lupin, as if there was nothing in the world that the Ministry doesn't know about!"
Hermione stared at him levelly. "You know, I really haven't got the faintest idea what you're on about. I wish you hadn't wrecked my Prophet. Oh, I know!" She plucked the charred remains of her paper from the fireplace and with a muttered "Reparo!" the blackened scraps quickly transformed themselves into a full and complete paper, which she set about reading.
"But wouldn't the Dementors sense Lupin if he was nearby?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know."
"Actually," Hermione said, still reading the paper. "Dementors are only a danger to humans. I read about them when we got here, after that incident on the train."
"Dementors, werewolves, a zillion classes. Honestly, Hermione, where do you get the time?" Ron asked.
"Don't be silly," Hermione replied absent-mindedly, as she was still immersed in the Prophet's article.
Ron looked at Harry, who shrugged.
"How -"he began.
"Oh, never mind what I do!" Hermione snapped, tossing the paper onto a nearby table."Does it really matter? I think we have more important things to worry about right now. I don't agree with Harry. I think that it's got to be Lupin. The Ministry must have tracking spells on all werewolves, and ways of finding out if new werewolves are made. I mean, there aren't many dogs as big as wolves, are there? And there really aren't any wolves left in Britain, they're all extinct. And even if it was a wolf, anybody should be able to tell a werewolf from a normal wolf, right?"
Harry and Ron looked blankly back at her. She rolled her eyes. "You really don't know the differences between wolves and werewolves? The snout, the tail?" They continued to stare. She sighed. "You'll have to learn them, especially you, Harry, since Lupin's after you."
"How do you know all this stuff?" Ron stared at Hermione.
"I read, Ron. You might try it, maybe you'd learn something."
"Alright, alright, don't start," Harry interrupted, sensing the onset of yet another argument. "So, Lupin's supposed to be after me, right? So he's supposed to be in Hogsmeade? How is he planning on getting into Hogwarts? He'll have changed back by now, so shouldn't the Dementors have sensed him?"
"There must be a way into the castle. A secret passageway or something." Hermione mused, setting the paper down.
"What, no maps in the library?" Ron deadpanned.
Hermione glared at him. "Yes, Ron, mapmakers put secret passageways on their maps."
"Will you two just stop it?" Harry said, exasperated. "Can we please think about the problem at hand? Namely that there is a mad werewolf out there who wants to kill me!"
"You'll just have to be really careful, won't you? Don't go anywhere alone. Don't go out at night. By the way, where were you just now?"
"At the Owlery, sending a letter to Sirius," Harry replied. He glanced one last time at the Prophet. "He's never going to sign that permission form now!"
"Couldn't you just take the Cloak and sneak out?" Ron asked, causing Hermione to say:
"Ron!" in a very McGonagall-esque tone. "Haven't you been listening? Harry's got a werewolf after him, and besides, the Dementors are surrounding the castle, and Dumbledore said that they wouldn't be fooled by an Invisibility Cloak."
"It's alright. I'll just stay here, all alone, while you and the rest of the year go and have a great time in Hogsmeade. Don't worry about me," Harry whined, making pathetic eyes at Hermione, whose stern expression softened somewhat.
"You really can't sneak out, Harry. It's too dangerous," she said apologetically. "But we'll bring you loads of things back, won't we, Ron?"
"Course we will, mate," Ron grinned. "Loads of Honeydukes' chocolate and Zonko's jokes and stuff."
"Great," Harry mumbled.
A/N: Once again, thanks for all the feedback I received for the previous chapter. If you liked this chapter, please review. If you didn't like it, please review.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, settings or anything else from Harry Potter.
Warnings: AU
Chapter Three
"Well, well, well." Draco leaned into the compartment, shadowed as always by the heavy figures of Crabbe and Goyle. "Potty, Weaselby, the Mudblood and...what is that?" Draco curled his lip in distaste at the sight of Crookshanks prowling menacingly around the compartment.
"It's a cat, Malfoy, are you blind as well as stupid?" Harry snapped.
"You call that ragged bag of fleas a cat? Was that all you could afford, Weasley? Spent all that gold already, have you?" Draco sneered. Ron's ears burned red.
"Actually, Crookshanks is mine, and he doesn't much like the smell of you by the look of it, Malfoy," Hermione retorted. She was right; Crookshanks was hissing and spitting, back arched, tail swishing from side to side like a cobra poised to strike.
"Oh, save me, save me!" Draco squealed in mock-terror, striking a dramatic pose with one hand to his forehead like a damsel in distress. Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle chuckled darkly. "That mad thing couldn't scram its way out of a paper bag, and if anything smells in here it's the stench of your dirty blood!"
Ron and Harry leapt to their feet at the same moment, wands ready and aimed at Malfoy, who had drawn his own, flanked by the towering Crabbe and Goyle. As the tension reached boiling point, Crookshanks chose his moment, and pounced.
"Ow! OW! Owowowowowow! Hermione, gerrim off me!" Ron bellowed, fighting with Crookshanks while trying to hold Scabbers out of the reach of the cat's sharp teeth and claws. In the doorway, Draco and his henchmen were doubled up with laughter.
Hermione wrenched Crookshanks off Ron and held the struggling animal tightly. "Hush, Crookshanks, settle down," she crooned, while the cat hissed and spat and reached with razor-sharp claws for Ron.
"That bloody animal!" Ron roared over Draco's laughter. "I'll hex him into next week, but not before I hex you -" He whirled and aimed again at Draco, ready to fling every curse he knew at the Slytherin bully. His mouth opened to form the curses, and then the breath went out of him.
The train was growing dark and cold; a creeping cold that settled in every students chest, that worked its way into the bones and chilled the blood. Harry felt a sinking feeling, like falling from a great height, the compartment was swimming in and out of focus as if wreathed in icy mist. Ron shivered convulsively; Hermione clutched Crookshanks to her like a lifeline; Draco's sneering face was twisted into a rictus of terror; Crabbe and Goyle whimpered softly, Harry heard the sound as if from far, far away.
"What's happening?" he tried to say, but the words were slurred and froze on his lips. Draco pointed in mute horror to the opposite door, and Harry turned to see a terrible figure in tattered black robes, a hand like a dead thing that reached for him, specifically for him, icy-cold and a whispering breath like a death-rattle before the compartment slipped out of focus entirely.
A screaming in his ears - far off voices - screaming - screaming - flash of light - green light - no more screaming - silence - and
"Harry? Harry?" Hermione's voice was anxious and low.
"Harry? Come on, wake up, mate," Ron, too.
Harry struggled out of the icy darkness and blinked at the light. The world was still out of focus, but this was because his glasses were missing.
"What-" he began, before being cut off by Madame Pomfrey.
"Now, young man, you just lie there, don't get up! Don't move! Honestly, bringing Dementors into a school, it's a wonder these children survive at all; quidditch and basilisks and goodness-knows-what...." she trailed off into a low tirade against the dangers of the school. Harry lay still for a moment, then reached out for his glasses.
"Here," Ron passed them to Harry, who muttered his thanks before donning them. He glanced around, and found himself in the hospital wing. The place was becoming quite familiar, he thought drily.
"Here, eat this," Madame Pomfrey said, pushing a huge chunk of chocolate into Harry's hands.
"Why? What happened?" Harry was surprised at how small his voice was.
"It was a Dementor," Madame Pomfrey said, still bustling around, and Harry saw that there were other people in beds around the infirmary, all looking very pale and weak. "One of the Azkaban guards, and what the Minister thinks by sending them here I'm sure I shall never know. Eat that chocolate!"
Harry obediantly began eating his way through the huge slab of chocolate, and waited until she had moved off before asking Ron and Hermione for the full story.
The Dementors had moved along the train as if they were looking for something. One had broken off from the rest, had entered Harry's compartment, had reached out as if to touch him. Harry had fainted, and the Dementor had leaned close over him. Then, from nowhere it seemed, Dumbledore and McGonagall burst onto the train and cast spells at the Dementors; huge silver shapes that drove the Dementors away. Then they had magicked up stretchers and carried Harry and the worst affected students up to the infirmary.
"Did...did anyone else hear...screaming?" Harry asked tentatively, hoping the answer would be 'yes' but expecting a 'no'.
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances before shaking their heads. Harry nodded, and leaned back weakly. The chocolate was working, warmth was spreading slowly through his death-cold limbs and alleviating some of the heavy dread in his chest, but all the strength seemed to have gone out of him.
"Com on now, out you go!" Madame Pomfrey ordered, steering Ron, Hermione and the other visitors in the infirmary in the direction of the door. "They need rest, and the feast is beginning shortly so out, please." Ron and Hermione waved apologetically at Harry and left. Harry lay still in his bed and finished his chocolate before gently drifting into blissfully dreamless sleep.
When Harry woke next morning, he found that his drained strength had returned, and Madame Pomfrey reluctantly allowed him to leave the infirmary and go down to the Great Hall for breakfast. The Hall was crowded and noisy with the chatter of students. He could see Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, waving at him, and he began to make his way over to them.
"Hey, Potter!"
Harry grimaced at the sound of Draco's mocking voice and considered ignoring it for a moment before deciding that whatever lies were being spread about him, it might be better to know about them.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
"Is it true that you fainted?"
Harry coloured angrily, but couldn't deny it. "Yeah," he said, and the Slytherin table burst into laughter. "Mind you, I don't seem to remember you being so heroic. In fact, wasn't it you they found curled in a ball, crying for your Mummy?"
The sneer on Draco's little pointed face morphed instantly into a frown. "You can't prove anything, Potter."
"Can't I? Why don't you ask Crabbe or Goyle. Oh wait, you can't, because they were too busy wetting themselves with fright."
Crabbe and Goyle rose at the same moment, wands drawn, cheeks flushed with anger. Harry drew his own wand, curses spiking in his throat, before:
"What is going on here?" The unpleasant drawl of, who else, Harry's Potion's Master, Severus Snape. Harry turned to see him surveying the scene with a look of barely-concealed triumph in his eyes. "Fighting in the Great Hall? Well, well, well, and only the second day. I hope we are not beginning as we mean to go on, Mr Potter. However, I think a night's detention and ten points from Gryffindor will teach you a lesson."
"But Malfoy, sir-"
"Do not argue with me, Potter. Report to my office, Friday night, seven o'clock /sharp/. Now get to your table." Harry needed no further prompting and stormed off, burning with rage at the blatant unfairness of it.
"What was that all about?" Ron asked as Harry slumped onto the bench and began furiously buttering a slice of toast.
"That was Malfoy being Malfoy, and Snape being Snape, and me getting detention." Harry growled, sending a look of utter loathing towards the Slytherin table, where Malfoy and his entourage were laughing amongst themselves.
"He gave you detention? What for?" asked Hermione, incredulously. Harry told them.
"That git!" Ron said, glaring at Snape, who was seated at the teachers' table with Hagrid to his left and a small, plain-looking witch Harry didn't recognise to his right.
"Hang on," Harry said, frowning. "What's Hagrid doing up there with the teachers?"
"Don't you -" Hermione began, and then, "oh, of course, you weren't here last night. The old Care of Magical Creatures teacher retired, and Hagrid's been given the job!"
"Wicked!" Harry smiled broadly and waved at Hagrid, who was beaming with pride. "When's our first lesson with him?"
"Here's your timetable," Hermione passed him a slip of parchment on which she had copied out his classes, then consulted her own. "Looks like right after lunch, yes. Divination first, though, and that's right at the top of the North Tower, so we'll have to hurry. Then Muggle Studies, and Arithmancy, then -"
"Hang on, Hermione, let me see that," Ron said, pulling Hermione's timetable out of her hands and comparing it to his own. "Something's gone wrong here. Look, all your lessons are at the same time. How are you going to be in three places at once?"
"Come on, we'd better get to Divination, hadn't we?" Hermione said, deftly avoiding Ron's question.
"Who's that?" Harry pointed at the witch sitting to the right of Snape.
"Professor Fell, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. We haven't got her until Friday. Come on, we're going to be late!"
"Heaven forbid that Hermione Granger should ever be late for a class." Ron muttered to Harry, who attempted to smother his smile before following Hermmione.
Sirius,
Harry tapped his quill on the parchment, uncertain as to what he should write. His return to Hogwarts certainly had been...interesting.
There are Dementors everywhere, all around the castle, although Dumbledore won't let them come onto school grounds, which is just as well since I seem to be the only person who reacts to them by fainting and the last thing I need is to faint every time I walk past one. Can you imagine Malfoy and the Slytherins?
I've got detention with Snape already, and it wasn't my fault. He said I was starting a fight in the Great Hall, which is completely unfair since it was Malfoy who started it. Crabbe and Goyle both threatened me, but they've only got lines. Fortunately, we haven't had Potions yet (That's tomorrow, right after DADA).
Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class was brilliant. He started off with Unicorns, and said that he wanted to do Hippogriffs, but dangerous creatures like that need 'too much paperwork'.
Everyone's talking about Lupin here. Everyone is obsessed with werewolves, and Hermione says that all the books about Dark Creatures have been taken out of the library - like last year, with the Chamber of Secrets - and she's fuming, because, well, you know Hermione and research. You'd think she'd be glad that she couldn't do any extra work what with all the /school/- work she's got. Ron and I can't work out how she's getting to all her classes, since her timetable is all doubled-up. Her Divination, Muggle Studies and Arithmancy lessons are at the same time, but she's getting to all three of them. /How?/
Speaking of Divination, Professor Trelawney says that I have a deadly enemy, that I should be wary of the moon, that my lifeline is disturbingly short, that she fails to See any kind of future for me (apart from the previously-mentioned) and that I have the Grim, whatever that is, but Professor McGonagall says that Professor Trelawney predicts the death of a student in each of her classes and nobody has died yet, so I can't use it as an excuse for not doing her homework.
So, is there any chance of me getting permission for Hogsmeade? The first weekend is coming up in October and everyone is really excited abut going. It's supposed to be brilliant, and Lupin wouldn't dare come this close to Hogwarts, would he?
Write back soon,
Harry.
Harry read the letter through again and decided that it would do. He folded it carefully, sealed it, and set off to the Owlery. Hedwig was dozing on her perch, but soon woke up with the offering of an owl treat.
"To Sirius, okay? Sirius." Harry told her, stroking the glossy snow-white feathers. Sirius had bought Hedwig for him as a birthday present, on that day in Diagon Alley when his whole world had been tipped upside down. Harry remembered the first time Sirius had turned up at Number Four, Privet Drive, on the enormous motorbike, holding Harry's Hogwarts letter and with Hagrid in tow. Sirius had shouted at the Dursleys, threatened Dudley, had been generally terrifying, but Harry couldn't help but like him instantly. There had been something comfortingly familiar about Sirius, and Harry had trusted him. Sirius had taken him away from the Dursleys, to Diagon Alley - Harry vividly remembered the blissful shock of discovering that he was /famous/, rather than just a scrawny, messy nuisance.
Hedwig gave Harry a little affectionate peck before spreading her wings and flapping off out of the window. Harry watched her until she was a glittering speck on the horizon, then turned away.
It was a clear autumn day, with just the slightest hint of chill in the air. The Forbidden Forest, even in the bright sunshine, was dark and, well, forbidding, as if even the light feared to enter it. Harry had been in there twice before, once in first year, for detention, once in second year, when he and Ron had met the giant spider, Aragog. Malfoy had said that werewolves lived in the Forest, but Malfoy was an idiot and a coward, who had turned tail and fled at the slightest rustle of leaves, and besides, the full moon was gone. So there was absolutely no reason for Harry to feel apprehensive at the sight of the dark, watchful trees, or feel the tingling sensation that something was watching him. Somebody, his mind insisted, Lupin, and that was ridiculous. Nobody could survive in the Forbidden Forest alone, except Hagrid, but Hagrid was more than capable of dealing with any monster that the Forest threw at him.
Harry shook off the feeling and made his way slowly up to Gryffindor Tower, where a sizeable pile of homework awaited him.
"Harry!" Hermione cried as he clambered through the portrait hole. "Look at this!" She thrust her copy of The Daily Prophet at him. Harry blinked in surprise, took it, and began to read.
WEREWOLF SIGHTINGS IN HOGSMEADE!
Many residents of the village of Hogsmeade have reported sighting a beast which they believe to be a rogue werewolf. "It was much bigger than a normal dog," says Maude Fletcher, who has lived in the village all her life, "and we don't get wolves round here no more, so it must be a werewolf, mustn't it?"
The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had this to say: "All registered werewolves were accounted for and spent the full moon in their designated Ministry holding-areas. It really must have been a very large wild dog."
When asked about the possibility that the alleged werewolf was none other than escaped convict Remus Lupin, the Minister agreed that this was a possibility, warning residents of the village to remain on their guard and not to venture out of doors on full moon nights...
"Well that's torn it. That's really torn it." Harry crumpled the Prophet and tossed it into the fireplace of the Gryffindor common room before sinking miserably into an overstuffed chair. "Sirius'll never sign that Hogsmeade form now!"
"You know, I did actually pay for that paper, Harry, and I hadn't read it yet," Hermione said, rather reproachfully.
"It's a load of rubbish," Harry told her. "If they honestly believe that Lupin would come this close to Hogwarts, they're as mad as he is."
"There's a werewolf in Hogwarts?"
"No, some people from Hogsmeade claim to have seen one, but Fudge says it couldn't have been a registered one and that it must be Lupin, as if there was nothing in the world that the Ministry doesn't know about!"
Hermione stared at him levelly. "You know, I really haven't got the faintest idea what you're on about. I wish you hadn't wrecked my Prophet. Oh, I know!" She plucked the charred remains of her paper from the fireplace and with a muttered "Reparo!" the blackened scraps quickly transformed themselves into a full and complete paper, which she set about reading.
"But wouldn't the Dementors sense Lupin if he was nearby?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know."
"Actually," Hermione said, still reading the paper. "Dementors are only a danger to humans. I read about them when we got here, after that incident on the train."
"Dementors, werewolves, a zillion classes. Honestly, Hermione, where do you get the time?" Ron asked.
"Don't be silly," Hermione replied absent-mindedly, as she was still immersed in the Prophet's article.
Ron looked at Harry, who shrugged.
"How -"he began.
"Oh, never mind what I do!" Hermione snapped, tossing the paper onto a nearby table."Does it really matter? I think we have more important things to worry about right now. I don't agree with Harry. I think that it's got to be Lupin. The Ministry must have tracking spells on all werewolves, and ways of finding out if new werewolves are made. I mean, there aren't many dogs as big as wolves, are there? And there really aren't any wolves left in Britain, they're all extinct. And even if it was a wolf, anybody should be able to tell a werewolf from a normal wolf, right?"
Harry and Ron looked blankly back at her. She rolled her eyes. "You really don't know the differences between wolves and werewolves? The snout, the tail?" They continued to stare. She sighed. "You'll have to learn them, especially you, Harry, since Lupin's after you."
"How do you know all this stuff?" Ron stared at Hermione.
"I read, Ron. You might try it, maybe you'd learn something."
"Alright, alright, don't start," Harry interrupted, sensing the onset of yet another argument. "So, Lupin's supposed to be after me, right? So he's supposed to be in Hogsmeade? How is he planning on getting into Hogwarts? He'll have changed back by now, so shouldn't the Dementors have sensed him?"
"There must be a way into the castle. A secret passageway or something." Hermione mused, setting the paper down.
"What, no maps in the library?" Ron deadpanned.
Hermione glared at him. "Yes, Ron, mapmakers put secret passageways on their maps."
"Will you two just stop it?" Harry said, exasperated. "Can we please think about the problem at hand? Namely that there is a mad werewolf out there who wants to kill me!"
"You'll just have to be really careful, won't you? Don't go anywhere alone. Don't go out at night. By the way, where were you just now?"
"At the Owlery, sending a letter to Sirius," Harry replied. He glanced one last time at the Prophet. "He's never going to sign that permission form now!"
"Couldn't you just take the Cloak and sneak out?" Ron asked, causing Hermione to say:
"Ron!" in a very McGonagall-esque tone. "Haven't you been listening? Harry's got a werewolf after him, and besides, the Dementors are surrounding the castle, and Dumbledore said that they wouldn't be fooled by an Invisibility Cloak."
"It's alright. I'll just stay here, all alone, while you and the rest of the year go and have a great time in Hogsmeade. Don't worry about me," Harry whined, making pathetic eyes at Hermione, whose stern expression softened somewhat.
"You really can't sneak out, Harry. It's too dangerous," she said apologetically. "But we'll bring you loads of things back, won't we, Ron?"
"Course we will, mate," Ron grinned. "Loads of Honeydukes' chocolate and Zonko's jokes and stuff."
"Great," Harry mumbled.
A/N: Once again, thanks for all the feedback I received for the previous chapter. If you liked this chapter, please review. If you didn't like it, please review.