For the next few days, I'll be in Sweden for a fencing tournament. I'll still be uploading chapters, since I've got a few prepared, but I won't be replying to any reviews for a bit until I get back.

Chapter Thirty-Six: Not So Merry Christmas

It was late in the month when Daphne finally managed to talk to Fred and George in a more-or-less private setting.

"What's with all the mystery?" Fred asked after Daphne had dragged them to a deserted corridor.

"Yeah, we're all about surprises, but people are going to think we're up to no good like this," George said with a grin.

"There's something I wanted to ask you, but I didn't think you'd want to answer it with other people around," Daphne said.

"Oh? And what might that be?" Fred asked.

"Since you two seem to have explored this castle quite extensively," Daphne began, and both Fred ang George seemed to swell with pride. "You probably know the secret passages as well. I think you probably know them better than Filch does."

"We do," George said casually.

"So are there any secret passages that aren't guarded, and could Sirius Black have gotten into the castle through them?" Daphne asked.

Fred and George exchanged a glance. "He could have, but it's extremely unlikely," Fred said.

He gave her a suspicious look. "Are you planning to tell Dumbledore about them? Because if you do, our Christmas present to Harry is going to lose a lot of its luster," he said.

Daphne shook her head. "No. Look, you like to get in trouble, but I know you wouldn't want Harry to get hurt. Not like this, anyway. If you think Black wouldn't have used the passages you know, I believe you," she said.

"Well, one of them has collapsed, so it's unusable anyway," George said. "The second one has the Whomping Willow over the entrance, so there's no real chance he's used that one, either. The only one he might have used leads to the cellar of Honeydukes, but it's nearly impossible to get in there without getting spotted, and you've probably seen the notices in the village that Dementors are keeping guard there, too. If Black used any of those entrances, he could probably get past the ones that are guarded as well."

Daphne nodded slowly. It did seem very unlikely that Black would've used any of those tunnels. Of course, that didn't preclude yet another tunnel from existing, but at least these seemed pretty safe.

"So…your Christmas present to Harry this year is telling him where to find the tunnel leading to Honeydukes?" Daphne asked.

Fred and George grinned. "Something like that, but you'll have to wait and see. I don't doubt he'll tell you all about it once we give it to him. But for the next Hogsmeade weekend, you better watch over your shoulder in case Harry suddenly pops up…"

Daphne didn't press the issue further. Instead, she finally felt like she could relax a bit. Lupin hadn't helped Black, the secret passages seemed unlikely enough, and while that still left the mystery of how Black had entered, she probably wouldn't be able to solve it before the end of term anyway.

As usual, she'd stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays, much like Hermione and Ron. Ginny did decide to go home, saying that she'd like to see her parents for a while. Given everything that had happened shortly after last year's winter holidays, Daphne couldn't blame her.

The next Hogsmeade visit was planned in the last weekend of term, which was good news for Daphne. She wanted to buy everyone good Christmas presents, and Hogsmeade had more than enough things to choose from.

On the morning of the visit, they said goodbye to Harry in the entrance hall — Daphne giving him a big, knowing grin, that Harry of course didn't understand — and then they set off. It was bitterly cold and had been snowing.

It wasn't today, but the wind was still fierce. They strode through the white streets, wondering where to go first, when Daphne spotted a familiar figure walking towards the Shrieking Shack, said to be the most haunted dwelling in Britain.

"You guys go on ahead; I'll catch up in a bit. See you at Honeydukes in about an hour or so?" Daphne said.

Hermione and Ron were surprised, but agreed, and Daphne changed course, heading for the Shrieking Shack as well.

Snape was walking around the fence that surrounded it, seemingly looking for something in the snow.

"Looking for Black, Professor?" Daphne asked.

Snape whirled around, but relaxed a tiny bit when he saw who had approached him.

"Miss Greengrass. Shouldn't you be with your friends, at Zonko's or one of the other…charming establishments in the village?"

Daphne shrugged. "I'll rejoin them soon, but I saw you heading in this direction–"

"And being too curious for your own good, decided to see what I was doing," Snape finished.

"Partially. It's also because…I spoke to Professor Lupin a few weeks ago."

Snape cocked his head. "And?"

Daphne sighed. "I know you suspect him of aiding Black, sir," she said bluntly. "And I'm certain he hasn't."

Snape's mouth curled into an unpleasant smile. "Has he told you we were acquainted in school?"

Daphne nodded. "I know he was friends with Harry's dad and Black. I know he and you didn't like each other. But…"

She hesitated for a moment. "I saw how guilty he feels over the death of his friends, and all because he decided to trust Black. He wouldn't help him, I'm sure of it."

Snape looked away angrily. "Not guilty enough," he said softly.

He looked at the Shrieking Shack.

"Miss Greengrass, when I was at school…something happened here, involving Potter, Black, Lupin, and me. Suffice it to say that it was not a pleasant experience. Black was the instigating force behind that incident. I don't think you can quite realize how much I detested him even then."

His face darkened into an expression Daphne had never seen before, not even used on Harry.

"And after what he did, that has not become better."

Daphne wasn't sure what he meant for a moment. He'd hated Harry's father, so his death wouldn't…

"Oh…I…I forgot…Harry's mother…you were friends…" she said softly. "And Black–"

"Will suffer the consequences. I will see to it personally," Snape said, colder than the wind that whipped their cloaks. "I don't trust Lupin, Miss Greengrass. I will not deny that–"

"But you still make…some kind of potion for him, right? He told me, and he said he's grateful for that, at least," Daphne said.

"But he did not tell you what the potion is for, I'll wager," Snape said. "It would be extremely foolish of me to poison Lupin, Miss Greengrass, and while I have no doubt that Potter and Weasley believe I would attempt to do so, I have no intention of doing anything so cowardly. Should I run into him under…certain circumstances, however, I would not hesitate to kill him, nor he me."

"Professor Lupin blames himself for the deaths of Harry's parents," Daphne said. "He says that protecting Harry is all he can do now to atone for it."

"Guilt does not bring back the dead, Miss Greengrass," Snape said flatly. "No matter how much one might want it to…"

He turned around and walked away, leaving Daphne at the Shack.

Daphne still had some time left before she'd meet up with Hermione and Ron at Honeydukes, so she went to the sporting goods store to see if she could find a gift for Harry.

She intended to buy a new broom, but once she arrived there, she realized she didn't know anything about brooms at all. She knew Harry had had a Nimbus Two Thousand, but that had been outstripped by now by at least the Nimbus Two Thousand and One, the Cleansweep Eight, and the newest, top-of-the-line broom on the market, the Firebolt.

The Firebolt, however, was still in a prototype stage and was shockingly expensive. Her parents would easily be able to afford it, of course, but no matter how much she or Mum liked Harry, she couldn't just casually give him a broomstick worth more than some people's houses for Christmas.

By the time she made her way over to Honeydukes some time later, she still hadn't found anything yet. She rejoined Hermione and Ron at the many shelves filled with sweets. She didn't tell them about her conversation with Snape yet — she wanted to wait until she could tell Harry as well. As it turned out, she wouldn't have to wait very long for that.

While they were browsing some shelves with sweets that looked truly revolting, appropriately marked 'Unusual Tastes', attempting to decide if Harry might like any of them, a voice behind them said, "Definitely not," when Ron shoved a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.

Ron and Hermione were very surprised to see Harry in Honeydukes, but Daphne just grinned.

"Fred and George gave you their present, then?" she asked.

"You knew?" Hermione asked in an accusing voice.

Daphne shrugged. "I knew they wanted to give Harry something that involved him being able to get here, but I don't know what it was. And before you go off on me: yes, I did ask them if Black could've gotten into the school like that, and they said it was incredibly unlikely. So, Harry, how'd you get here?" she asked before Hermione could say anything else.

Harry told them about the map Fred and George had given him, the Marauder's Map. Ron was indignant that Fred and George hadn't given him the Map, and Hermione seemed to think that Harry should hand the map over to McGonagall, which Harry obviously had no intention of doing.

"But what about the diary?" Hermione asked. "This object can also think for itself, can't it?"

Harry nodded. "I thought that, too," he said. "But Fred and George have been using it for years, and it doesn't seem to be more than map, even though it's clearly an advanced piece of magic. Hermione, I'm not turning in the map."

"You still shouldn't be here," Hermione said. "You don't have permission, for one thing, and what if Black is here in the village? If an entire street full of people didn't deter him when he was arrested, why would it now?"

Harry looked a bit troubled, but Ron gave a nod out the window. It wasn't just windy anymore; a thick, swirling snowstorm had begun.

"He'd have a job spotting Harry in this," Ron said. "Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. Harry deserves a break."

Reluctantly, Hermione relented, and the four of them headed out to the Three Broomsticks for a drink. Aside from overhearing a conversation between McGonagall, Flitwick, Fudge, Hagrid, and Madam Rosmerta, which sounded rather like they were trying to cram years worth of backstory into a single conversation for no discernible reason, and which would have surely been a shock to Harry, had he not heard just about all of it before, save the name of the charm used to hide his parents, nothing of note happened there.

The rest of the day they spent mainly indoors, as Harry wasn't wearing his winter cloak — although Daphne noticed he was wearing the bracelet she had given him for Quidditch — and at the end of the day Harry snuck off to Honeydukes to get back through the tunnel, while Daphne, Hermione, and Ron went back the normal way.

The next day, they visited Hagrid, who was making plans for the lessons he'd give them after the holidays.

"Yeh'll have ter wait and see," he said. "But I think yeh'll like it."

While Hagrid being enthusiastic would usually frighten them, he'd been very restrained since the hippogriffs, so Daphne wasn't too worried he'd suddenly show up with a manticore or something similarly terrible.

Christmas, though, wasn't quite as peaceful as it usually was. Hermione and Ron had gotten in another fight over Crookshanks and Scabbers, and Hermione had been very suspicious when Harry had received, of all things, a Firebolt.

"You didn't send it, by any chance?" Ron asked Daphne.

Daphne shook her head. "You were there when I bought my Christmas gifts for you," she pointed out. "I wanted to do it, but a Firebolt is immensely expensive even for me. I doubt my parents, even my Mum, would be very happy if I spent that much on a Christmas gift. If I'd wanted to buy a small country, maybe…"

The rest of the day was surprisingly frosty, with Harry and Daphne attempting to have a conversation while Hermione and Ron glared daggers at each other.

When Daphne arrived in the Great Hall for dinner that evening, she saw that the House tables had been moved against the walls, like they had been on the night of Black's attack on Gryffindor tower, and a single table, set for twelve people, stood in the middle of the room.

Aside from Daphne, Harry, Hermione, and Ron there were only two other students, both nervous first-years none of them knew.

"Merry Christmas!" Dumbledore said as they approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables…Sit down, sit down!"

They sat down side by side at the end of the table.

"Crackers!" Dumbledore said enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged.

With a loud bang, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witch's hat topped with a stuffed vulture. Daphne momentarily caught Snape's eye and had to bite her tongue not to laugh, which Snape obviously noticed. He gave her a warning look, and then pushed the hat over to Dumbledore, who immediately swapped his wizard hat for the one with the vulture.

"Dig in!" he said cheerfully to the rest of the table.

While Daphne was loading up her plate, the doors of the Great Hall opened, and Trelawney came in.

"Sibyll, this is a pleasant surprise!" Dumbledore said, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," Trelawney said. "And to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary supper and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"

"Certainly, certainly," Dumbledore said. "Let me draw you up a chair…"

He proceeded to actually draw a chair in the air with his wand, which landed with a thud between Snape and McGonagall.

Trelawney, however, seemed troubled.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sibyll," McGonagall said impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

"Yeah, and three of us here are thirteen," Daphne added, indicating herself, Harry, and Ron. "We haven't died yet thus far." She could swear she saw a corner of McGonagall's mouth twitch.

Trelawney sat down, silently and solemnly, as if she expected a thunderbolt to hit the table. McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

"Tripe, Sibyll?" she asked.

Daphne hid her grin behind her hand.

Trelawney ignored McGonagall, opened her eyes and looked around again. "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," Dumbledore said. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

"But surely you already knew that, Sibyll?" McGonagall asked with her eyebrows raised.

Daphne put down her knife and fork. She wanted to enjoy this without risk of choking on her food from laughter.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva," Trelawney said. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal," McGonagall said tartly.

"I you must know, Minerva, I have seen that Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware himself that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him–"

"Imagine that," McGonagall said dryly.

"I doubt," Dumbledore said, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to the conversation between Trelawney and McGonagall, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Snape said. "Good. Then he should be up and about in no time…Derek, have you had any of these chipolatas? They're excellent."

The first-year boy went red at being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and accepted the plate with trembling hands.

Two hours later, Harry and Ron got up, and Trelawney shrieked loudly.

"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which? Especially under a full moon, it–"

"I doubt it makes much difference," McGonagall said coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the entrance hall."

Daphne, Harry, and Ron laughed. Hermione still seemed annoyed. She told Harry and Ron to go ahead back to the common room, since she wanted a word with McGonagall, and Daphne went back to the Slytherin common room which, for the first time, was completely hers. She wasn't really sure how that was relevant, given that she was tired and wanted to go to bed, but the idea that there was no one else there was nice, at least.

And yet, something was bothering her, aside from Ron and Hermione being at odds. She lay in her bed, thinking. It felt as if she'd come to some terrible conclusion, except her conscious mind hadn't really caught up with it yet.

Then, when she was just beginning to fall asleep, everything finally clicked into place. Lupin wasn't sick. He was a werewolf.

Okay, I just had to poke fun at the conversation in the Three Broomsticks. I'm not saying I've never written clunky exposition before (even in this very fic), but this was incredible. It's one of the most unnatural, forced conversations I've ever seen in a book. This is one of my favorite books in the series, but man, that part is about as subtle as a sledgehammer.

Speaking of subtle as a sledgehammer, I added in the reference to the moon in Trelawney's hysteria to help Daphne along a bit. At that point in canon, Hermione already knew, anyway, and I'm trying to make it a point that Hermione is faster at figuring things out than Daphne is, but I still want her to figure things out on her own as well.

I also noticed that in the book, that scene is initially described as being lunch, but then morphs into dinner over the course of the conversation. I simply made it dinner all throughout, and I kept most of the scene identical to canon simply because I love McGonagall being snide to Trelawney.