Yo! I recently took the Patronus quiz on Pottermore, and apparently, my Patronus is a hyena. Yeah, not sure how to feel about that. ...I'm calling it Ed. Credit for the first three paragraphs goes to SweetDarkSilence!

"Potter!" called Snape, who had somehow managed to hear his exclamation from across the room. "Twenty points from Gryffindor! Control your foul language!"

Harry just shoved his gold plate and goblet away, and dropped his head down, bashing it against the wooden table once, then twice, and then a third time.

"Ten more points for damage to school property!"

But Harry had no concern for lost House points. Instead, he slammed his hands onto the table and got to his feet. "Nope! That's it! Fuck it! I'm done!" He made for the massive doors of the Hall. "Peace out!"

And with that, Harry Potter left the Great Hall, already debating on the best way to get completely and utterly pissed, even if he wasn't quite old enough to legally do so.

The new Defence professor, meanwhile, began to laugh in amusement. "See that, Snape? That was all Evans. She was a dramatic woman."

Snape merely scowled, not at all liking the reminder. He hated when people brought up the topic of his very first friend...


Harry had only just made it up to the Defence corridor when a wild Hedwig appeared, the evening edition of the Daily Prophet tied to her leg, and a letter clamped in her beak.

Eyes narrowed, Harry took the newspaper, only having to glance at the front page to realize he hadn't gone batshit insane and begun to hallucinate in the Great Hall earlier. Tossing the Prophet aside like the rag that it was, he accepted the letter, turning his attention to that instead, already positive he knew who it was from. It was sure to be more interesting than the newspaper, at least.

'Potter,

I trust you have seen the second half of your late birthday present by now? And the explanation in the Daily Prophet? It may be a rather large shock, though I assure you, it did not cost me anything of importance.

Now, ask yourself this: what do you owe me in return?

Voldemort'

"...Fuck!" Crumpling the parchment in his fist, Harry entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, then stalked up to the professor's office, glowering until the door swung open on its own, no doubt sensing his extremely hostile magic.

Glaring, he dropped down onto a tacky, yet very comfortable red armchair, and focused his furious gaze on the door, waiting...waiting...waiting...


The Welcoming Feast came to an end, and the students all headed for the dorms, while the adults made their way to their personal rooms in various parts in (and in Hagrid's case, out) of the castle.

The Defence professor was slowly striding to his own rooms, deciding to cut through his new classroom and office on his way, since it was a bit of a shortcut, and the quicker he got to bed, the better.

When he finally made it to his office, he paused in place, hand on the doorknob (he hadn't gotten around to setting a password just yet). It felt like something very dangerous was on the other side. Feeling uncharacteristically apprehensive, the man pulled out his wand, turned the knob, and stepped inside...only to be met by a pair of murderous, green eyes. "...Uh oh."

"Uh oh? Uh oh !? Is that all you have to say!?"

"Er-I can explain?"

Harry shot to his feet, his magic crackling and whipping around him like the winds of a hurricane. "Sirius Orion Black! You son of a bitch!"

...*Shines fingernails* So, how many of you just lost a bet? Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!