Disclaimer is in chapter 1.

The next day Xander sat through his classes, barely able to sit still as he thought about the completed map. He couldn't stop thinking about how insanely cool that little piece of spell work was, and what could be done with it. The security, and counter security, uses alone were fantastic but he'd read the copious notes Black had made concerning the map, and those uses were the LEAST of its abilities.

In effect, anything reported by the wards were accessible to the map. Unfortunately it was strictly a real-time device, with no recording capability, but Xander was thinking about how to change that already. Even so, before he'd crashed the night before Xander had accessed some of the higher functions of the map to watch the progress of the Prefects on their nightly patrols.

Percy Weasley had been paired with the Ravenclaw Prefect, Penelope Clearwater. They had an interesting method of patrolling the broom closets on the third floor, a very thorough examination of one in particular Xander had noted with a smirk. The Map didn't have visual capability, of course, that wasn't something that was built into Hogwarts wards, but many areas of the castle, including almost all 'public' areas were monitored by listening charms tied into the ward structure.

The map faithfully rendered various epithets, moans, and groans into speech bubbles coming from the two Prefects and, much to Xander's amusement, Black's addition to the spellwork created cartoon caricatures that writhed together luridly as he watched.

The Marauders were brilliant, but twisted Xander noted, and he was hardly surprised that the Coven had detested them on principal. He was certainly glad that Black's supplementary notes hadn't been included in the spellwork he'd shared with Wednesday or Hermione. The map construct itself was so complicated that it was all but impossible to really pick out the difference between the more straightforward functions of the display and Sirius Black's 'extra' additions, otherwise Xander had little doubt that he'd have been treated to a game of Human Sacrifice, with two irate girl's wielding the knives.

He shuddered at that, Hermione may stop before actually cutting him in that situation, but Wednesday wouldn't.

Xander shared almost everything with his friends, but he wasn't entirely without survival instincts.

At least after reading the supplementary notes on the Map, Xander had a good idea what it had been age coded to only let him talk to Black when he was at least in third year. A couple years ago he'd have probably showed the map in 'spy mode' to Wednesday for giggles.

That would have gone over SO well, he was sure.

When classes were done for the day Xander headed for the library. While he was going to hold back some functions of the map for reasons of personal security, not to mention an allergy to pain, he had to let the girls know that it had worked.

He found Wednesday at their regular table and immediately noticed that something was up. The dark girl was sitting stiffly, as was her habit, but she wasn't reading. Her glittering eyes were focused on Hermione who was sitting across the room at another table. Xander followed her gaze and paused in place as he took in the normally perky, brightly enthusiastic, girl. Her hair was badly frazzled, looking like it hadn't been brushed in some time, making its normal bushy appearance look like the height of fashion.

Xander exchanged a glance with Wednesday, who nodded and rose from her place. Together they split around the tables and approached Hermione from either side, taking the seats beside her silently and clearly startling the girl.

"You're not looking so hot," Xander said, eschewing any attempt at tact as he reached over and slid her book away from her.

Hermione glared at him, "Well thank you so much for that pick me up."

"If the truth irritates you that much, perhaps you're worse off than you appear." Wednesday said idly as she and Xander looked at the title of the book Hermione had been reading. "Dangerous Creatures Statutes?"

"Interesting reading," Xander said with a twitch of his head. "There's not another big honking snake in the school is there?"

"Don't be silly." Hermione rolled her eyes, "Where would another Basilisk come from?"

"I dunno, same place the first one did?" Xander shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not real clear on where that one came from."

Hermione huffed, but Wednesday merely smiled slightly. "He has a point. I presume, however, that this has something to do with Buckbeak?"

Hermione slumped a little, looking tired, but nodded.

"I take it that hasn't gone well?"

"We lost," Hermione admitted, "Buckbeak is due to be executed in a few days."

"I see." Wednesday said quietly.

Xander felt bad for the animal, he knew for a fact that Draco hadn't been as badly hurt as he'd pretended, but the fact was it did attack a student and he was pretty damn sure that any dog that did that on school property back in the states probably wasn't going to last half as long as this Hippogriff had. More to the point, however, Xander had a feeling that this wasn't the core of the issue he'd come over here to deal with, namely why Hermione looked like she was up for about three days straight.

"Herms, that can't be all of it. You really look horrible, are you coming down with something?"

"No." She said sharply, glaring at him, "I most certainly am not. I just haven't been sleeping much lately, thank you very much."

With that she got up in a huff and strode off, leaving Xander to frown thoughtfully.

"Is that part of that Tremwrurt thing you and Luna were talking about?" He asked.

Wednesday blinked, looking at him with a genuinely confused look, "What?"

"Tremwrurt, remember? Luna said something about that and you said it wasn't to be discussed with the 'plebes'?" Xander asked again, this time he was the one who was confused.

"Ah," Her face relaxed into understanding. "Is that what she actually said?"

"Bwa?"

"Alexander, I've mentioned before that the Addamses have a gift of languages, correct?"

"Yeah, last year."

"Well I didn't hear what she said, I heard what she *meant*." Wednesday said coolly, collecting her books. "Luna is a very interesting person, I don't believe she herself knows the names for the things she sees, so she makes up things to call them."

"Uh... ok. So what did she see?"

"Elementa Aetas." She said before following after Hermione, leaving Xander perplexed behind her.

"What the heck does that mean?" He asked of the air around him.

Predictably, he got no answer.

"Great." He sighed, getting up and collecting his own books.

In all the 'excitement' he hadn't even got a chance to show his map to the girls.

"Hermione."

Hermione half turned, seeing the dark Addams scion walking toward her, and sighed. "What is it, Wednesday?"

"You may relax, I'm not concerned with how you're manipulating time."

Hermione's eyes widened and she started to stammer, "I'm sure I don... don't know what you're talking about... and further..."

Wednesday held up a hand, "Stop. I told you, I don't care. I am interested in helping you with your other problem, however."

"What's that?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Buckbeak."

Hermione sighed, "I don't know that there's anything we CAN do."

A slightly sinister smile played at the lips of the dark girl, "Didn't I ever tell you that the Addamses are widely considered the worlds foremost authorities on magical creatures? We even maintain several private reserves for them."

Hermione's eyes widened, "You do?"

"Let's talk."

Xander sighed, laying back in his room and watching the names move around on the map. Hermione and Wednesday were speaking together near Gryffindor dorms, but even though they were in a public area Xander didn't activate the maps 'eavesdropping' mode. He hoped that Wednesday could help Hermione, but was pretty sure that neither would be appreciative of him listening, or reading, in.

Other students were running around the school in various states of madness, the end of year exams having snuck up on them. Xander ignored them, just randomly sliding the image around. Headmaster Dumbledore was in his office, Professor Snape was down in the dungeons, and he noted Harry and Ron were out on the Quidditch Pitch.

Someone named Peter Pettigrew was running across the grounds outside, and Xander paused on his name for a long moment.

"Peter Pettigrew..." He mused out loud. "I've heard that name before."

He shrugged it off, not able to place it.

Must be a student from one of the other houses. Hufflepuff, probably, he decided. He didn't know any of them really.

Narcissa looked over the notes in her copy of the Grimoire, puzzled by the sudden interest Alexander had taken in the situation with Sirius. She should have kept his shade locked away she supposed, but it seemed harmless at the time. Sirius was safely locked away, his shade was merely an echo of his Hogwarts self, and was by and large harmless.

Now she had to worry about what the boy was learning, or believed he was learning, about her cousin. Sirius had always driven her nuts in the past, but it was normally in an annoying way, not the year the hair from her skull way he was currently managing without even thinking of her. She hoped that Alexander didn't do anything stupid if he ran across Sirius.

Whatever the man had been, he was a dangerous felon now.

Narcissa sighed at the lost dreams of her past. The ways they were going to change the world, her, Lilly and Alice. As a trio they had been unstoppable, fighting even the much vaunted Marauders to a humiliating defeat during one of the most renowned prank wars in Hogwarts history.

Ok, it had only been the rout it was because the Marauders never knew who they were and even Sirius didn't find out until Lilly and James were all but betrothed. By that point Sirius had taken the fatalistic point of view that James would never be able to go all out against Lilly, and the equally pessimistic view that Lilly would have no such problem.

Probably the most realistic view he could have taken, Narcissa supposed. Earlier in their shared history the Marauders would have probably dominated the fight, given the fact that they had the greater experience and knowledge of Hogwarts. When the Coven had learned of the Map, well even Lilly had been stunned into silence by the sheer brilliance of the artifact.

As it was, without knowing who they were fighting, the Marauders never even touched Lilly or Alice, and only caught Narcissa herself with secondary splash over.

They had been brilliant, but there was only so much one could do without at least some basic information on your opponents. That was a lesson Narcissa had learned then, and was relearning now in her hunt to bring her erstwhile cousin down before he got himself killed.

Though she was beginning to wonder if maybe letting him get kissed and claiming the body may not be the best avenue. Would certainly result in fewer headaches, she suspected, however it was certainly not her preferred option. She wasn't certain if the Magic would accept an Heir conceived post-soul, and for obvious reasons wasn't eager to find out.

She would be damned, however, if the Black line ended now that she had a chance to save it. Even as slim as chance as it was. Not without ever possible effort being expended on her part.

End of Year exams were on them shortly after that, leaving few of them with any time to do much other than study and test. Xander found himself fairly confident in his classes, not too worried about the exams, which was a nice change from how he ended every year back home, sweating and panting and praying that Willow would save his sorry ass from repeating a year.

Ok, that was possibly a little bit of an exaggeration, his marks weren't that bad but he still went through the horrible anxiety every single year and he was so not missing it now.

Charms went smoothly, his practice with the shield charm gave him a nice extra credit boost on the test, but overall he was sure he'd done pretty decently. The ones that still tripped him up were the simpler ones they had learned, ironically, because he'd pushed on ahead.

Transfiguration kinda sucked, Xander found, but he probably scraped by there. He didn't have the natural hand at it that Hermione seemed to show, but he wasn't as low on the pole as Ron Weasley or Neville Longbottom either, so he figured he was doing ok. He didn't expect to ever get a mastership in that subject, however.

The Defense course was exhausting, a rigged up challenge against various 'dark creatures' that had him sweating by the end but little else. Hermione had been badly shaken by the finale obstacle, a Boggart, which marred her otherwise stellar showing. Harry had, on the other hand, blown through it with an absurd ease in Xander's opinion, like he was testing below his ability.

Some people just made Xander want to grit his teeth.

Potions was easy. Not that he was a budding potions master or anything, but Snape was generally soft on Slytherins and Xander was no slouch with an Athame and a Cauldron, so he passed. He felt bad for Harry and the others there, since they were working five times harder than he was, and generally got less out of it.

Mind you, if they survived Snape there wasn't a thing in the real world that was going to faze them.

Arithmancy was grueling. It wasn't so much that it was difficult, it was just so DAMNED boring. Add three ones, add seven, subtract nine. What do you get? A powerful spell that was based on the friggin number you STARTED with.

There had to be something else going on there that Xander just didn't understand yet, but for the moment it was just obscene amounts of adding and subtracting with no real correlation to practical applications that he could see.

It was enough to drive a man to drink, that is if Xander wasn't massively anti-alcohol.

By the time the exams where done everyone was worn out, but glad to see them go. The Gryffindors were still roaring over their victory on the Pitch, while the Slytherin's were by and large whining about losing.

That was what drove Xander to bed early that night, his mind finally clear of school and still revolving around the mystery of the grimoire and Sirius Black as he laid himself down to rest.

Peter Pettigrew!

Xander bolted upright in his bed, eyes wide as he stared into the darkness.

No way.

He shook his head, then lunged across the bed and scrambled over to his trunk. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that no one had noticed his waking, and he quickly fumbled through the lock on the trunk, opening it to the first storage section and retrieved his map.

The map shimmered for a moment in response to his tap, and then the words 'Civil War' appeared centered in it.

"Quiet Riot." Xander replied softly.

The map blanked again, then the lines of Hogwarts appeared. Xander quickly panned over to the Hufflepuff dorms, remembering his thoughts of so many nights earlier, and frowned.

"Pettigrew... Pettigrew... There's no Pettigrew there." He mumbled to himself, panning across the Gryffindor with the same result. Ravenclaw was next, and still there was no one by the name of Peter Pettigrew.

"It's not possible, is it?" He licked his lips, zooming the map out so he could scan the grounds. There were a few tags moving around and he quickly scanned over to them. Hagrid was no surprise, but he blinked when he spotted Wednesday and Hermione out and about and heading toward Hagrid's hut. "What are you two up to?"

He scowled at the names, but then scanned around some more. Wednesday was far from helpless, and she generally knew what she was doing, so he wasn't going to impose himself on their company for no reason. Besides, he still had a mystery of his own to solve.

The fact that Ron and Harry were out as well had him shaking his head.

"Does anyone sleep in this damned place?" He muttered.

Xander's annoyance was cut off, however, when he spotted the name he was looking for close to where Ron and Harry were as those two left Hagrid's. He hadn't imagined it.

Pettigrew was alive? But that made no sense. How does someone hide from the entire world for so long? Especially when they've received accolades as a hero in such a small, insular, society? It didn't seem possible.

He was still puzzling that out when another name crossed the ward boundaries, heading dead for Harry and Ron.

Sirius Black.

"Oh hell." Xander muttered, grabbing his wand and robes as he bolted for the door. So much for getting to bed early and resting up

"There he is," Hermione whispered, pointing to the spot where the hippogriff was tied out. "We don't have much time, they'll be here soon."

"Follow me." Wednesday said softly, breaking position and creeping toward the garden patch Hagrid kept out behind his hut.

The two girls made their way down, keeping an eye out for the ministry representatives who were scheduled to arrive that very night. Hermione wasn't sure what Wednesday thought she could do, but she was going to take any chance she had to save Buckbeak.

"Damn!" Hermione hissed. "They're here!"

"Down." Wednesday responded, dragging her into the pumpkin patch, behind one of the enormous gourds. They stayed crouched as they heard Minister Fudge speak.

"Bad business this." The Minister said as he, Dumbledore, and another man were admitted to the house.

"What do we do? They're going to really do it!" Hermione hissed, sounding halfway panicked.

"Shhh." Wednesday replied firmly. "Wait.

"Wait for what?"

When the face Wednesday had been eyeing in the window turned away, "For this."

She rose and quickly approached the Hippogriff, pausing just long enough to bow politely without taking her eyes off it. Buckbeak returned the bow almost instantly, and then her hands were on the rope, undoing the knots with ease.

"Come." She ordered flatly, leading the apparently docile animal quickly and quietly away from the pumpkin patch.

Hermione, shocked, followed in meek silence.