The train started moving again shortly after Mouse chased the dementor off. I heard later that my friends had marshaled their own patronuses to clear the other parts of the train where the dementors were being overly thorough (though nothing like what happened to us). I was half-certain that I'd find out Dawlish or one of his cronies had been running the operation and had deliberately let the creatures on the train instead of just searching around it, probably with advice that they should check my compartment in particular.

Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any permanent harm other than everyone's chocolate stores being raided such that the first Hogsmeade weekend was going to see a furious restocking at Honeyduke's. Why did eating chocolate ameliorate the effects of dementor exposure? I was sure Penny would have at least a précis on the subject if we asked her to work it out.

The rain let up a bit by the time we stopped for real in Hogsmeade, enough to dash to the carriages only somewhat damp. I was sad to realize that, after the bombing in Cairo, most of my friends could now clearly see the thestrals that pulled the conveyances up to the school. The previous year, few of them had ever truly seen someone die up close. Penny, particularly, seemed about to cry again when she realized what that meant.

Though the last couple of years probably should have dented the faith in the safety of Hogwarts, spirits slowly rose in the warm great hall as the new first-years were sorted and the food got closer to arriving. I was all set for Dumbledore to give his customary statement that he'd make his remarks after the feast, but, this year, he actually had something to say beforehand.

"While I don't wish to delay the feast," he began, "this knowledge may sit heavier on a full stomach. As you are aware from their entry on the train, the prison guards of Azkaban are on full alert for the escaped convict Sirius Black. We would have all preferred they not trouble you, but their presence did turn out to be necessary: marks were found on the roof of the Express that indicate a large animal leapt down upon the train to stow away as it left London. While nothing was found, it is very likely the creature in question was scared away by the arrival of the search party, and they are currently combing the countryside near where the train was stopped.

"I say 'creature' out of caution, for we are not yet certain if it is the same person, but," I saw him shoot a glance to Remus down the table, "we have learned that Sirius Black is an unregistered animagus that takes the form of a large, black dog. If you see such a beast, or the man himself, you should immediately retreat and seek out a professor or other authority figure.

"To help prevent this, the dementors will be stationed outside the grounds of the school. While they have been ordered not to harm students… as you may have seen on the train, their nature can fight against their directives. While sneaking off the grounds or into the forest is always forbidden, this year you may find the consequences much more dire than others. The dementors will not be fooled by stealth, nor guile, nor even magical invisibility. Our prefects and the Head Boy and Girl have been entreated to be especially diligent while we play host to these creatures, and I implore all of you to listen to their directives, for your own safety.

"And, on a happier note, Hogwarts has a new professor for care of magical creatures, now that Professor Kettleburn has retired to spend more time with his remaining limbs, and I would like everyone to please welcome his replacement… our very own Rubeus Hagrid!"

The magnitude of the applause was much stronger from Gryffindor than anywhere else. I resolved to remind Mathilda to talk to Hagrid soonest.

"I would also like to note that our temporary defense against the dark arts professor who taught a very informative spring term has graciously taken the position full time. We all have high hopes that Professor Lupin will finally bring some stability to a position that's experienced too much turnover of late.

"And I think that's everything worth mentioning. Tuck in!"

McGonagall flagged me down to walk with her as everyone was leaving the dining hall. The severe-yet-grandmotherly Scottish witch told me, "Hoss, we didn't want to call you out in case students would be upset about the dementors, and because you don't seem to care about points, but good job identifying Black. You may well have stopped him from hitching a ride all the way to Hogsmeade. Twenty points to Gryffindor."

"'Thilda spotted him," I shrugged, but nodded that I appreciated being appreciated. "How was your summer?"

"I dare say not as exciting as yours! Vampires and red caps, I hear. I just got a bit of relaxation between breaking in two new professors."

"Werewolves and giants!" I told her quietly. "It's all in how you spin it."

"The battle to get them to turn in a proper lesson plan was epic, at that," she said. I even got a bit of a smile out of the stoic old lady. Yeah, we'd bonded. There and then, I made it my goal for the year to actually get a genuine chortle out of her. "Speaking of which," she continued, "thanks for your help with Remus' lesson plan. He's still feeling a bit poorly after yesterday and it's late, but let's find a time to meet about your assistance with his classes this weekend?"

I nodded my agreement, and she headed off to her rooms while I jogged to catch up to Gryffindor before I missed the new password. I still thought there was probably a more secure system for accessing the rooms, especially with a killer after one or more of us.

It was another year where September first wasn't on a weekend, so the first week was just Thursday and Friday. The next morning, I got to actually take it easy because I had a free period, but the rest of the day was one of my busier ones: arithmancy, runes, double transfiguration for my official classes, and my "focus group" seminar in my free period right after lunch. I wasn't totally sure when Wild Bill was doing his seminars for the younger kids: I'd heard he'd gotten a day job that wasn't in Hogsmeade for the year, but was flooing in for his classes. At least, unlike my sixth year, we didn't have to juggle Millicent Bulstrode's classes to find an overlapping free period.

The Slytherin girl had grown another couple of inches over the summer, but her growth rate finally seemed to be slowing down. She probably wouldn't actually reach six feet, but was destined to be burly regardless. If her house's quidditch team wasn't so devoted to chauvinism, they'd have put her on as a beater or keeper immediately. I probably hadn't helped much by pulling her out of flying class for the focus seminar during her first year.

"How was your summer, Millie?" Hermione asked, as the bigger girl, also a cat-lover, cooed over Crookshanks.

She shrugged, "We were supposed to go on vacation in Finnegan's neck of the woods, but my mum thought it was too dangerous and we just went to the shore for a bit."

Seamus nodded, "'T'wasn't too bad o'er the summer, but tis been tense, sure enough. The Troubles, me da says. Wizards aren't Catholic or Protestant, so both sides might be after us if'n they knew."

I had to shake memories of Penny crying over her injured father the year before, and her horrified rage as she struggled to save who she could in the bombing during the summer. Even wizards couldn't live entirely separate from the rest of the world. And if the Death Eaters had their way, we'd be back to having our own equivalent organization of terrorists soon enough much more close to home.

And I still wasn't sure what to make of the sidhe red cap suggesting that the fae were exacerbating all these violent disagreements for their own ends.

"Why don't we do some runes review? All of you have your first class tomorrow, right?" I said to interrupt my own dark mood.

Turned out they did. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were elective days for the third-years, and Friday involved a fair amount of juggling because they also had several core classes. Hermione was probably already happy she wasn't having to time travel to make classes. My Friday was similarly packed, of course: double arithmancy, defense, double charms, and runes. I missed my OWL year when I somehow got Fridays totally free.

Remus—I mean, Professor Lupin—was mostly recovered from his "monthlies" by the pre-lunch defense class, and laid out the plan for the year, which, like most of my other classes, was about drilling down on specifics where we were still weak on the NEWT standards. A couple more people hadn't hacked it through sixth-year defense, even with Lockhart teaching, and nobody in the small class was interested in objecting to me being the TA—especially after I admitted I'd probably basically written our lessons from the previous year (even if, because of the memory-charming bastard, I couldn't remember any of it).

But, on the whole, despite the heavy loads in my final year, I felt pretty good about it. I mean, it's not like I actually cared what I got on my NEWTs because there was basically no chance of me working anywhere that wanted them. So I got to use the year to learn all the fun high-end magic that I wanted.

It didn't seem like Hermione was as sanguine. I noticed her fuming at a study table after dinner with Ron, Neville, and her roommates Parvati and Lavender. "I read through the textbook and knew this was lacking, but I wasn't prepared for just how uninformed Professor Burbage would be! I mean, she's a lovely woman and I'm sure she's an excellent educator, but I don't think she understands everything she doesn't know!"

"I don't know," Ron tried to curb the young witch's temper. "A lot of stuff she talked about are things my dad's tried to explain to me before. I think we even have a facts machine in the shed, we just don't have the… eckeltricity…" it was clear when he stumbled that he realized that was wrong, "to make them 'download' facts. Or, what did she talk about, the telephone lines?"

"It's a telio-phone, Ronald," Lavender disagreed. "Didn't you all get to use one of the telio-vision devices over winter hols at Professor Lupin's house?"

I must not have sufficiently contained my guffaw because Hermione turned and said, "Harry! Tell them!"

Giving her my best "I told you so" look, I ambled over to the table and explained, "This is the point where Hogwarts not having a Latin class is really hurting you coming and going. A lot of muggle terms, especially for technology, use the same root words as spells. Telephones and television both use the same root as teleport: hearing or seeing across a distance. 'Fax'—with an 'X'—is short for, I think, 'facsimile' or 'to make something similar,' because it creates a copy of the document you feed in at one end and prints it out on the other. Electricity… that one I'm stumped on. I don't know why it's called that."

"I looked it up," Hermione said. "It's the word for amber, because you'd rub amber on wool to get static electricity."

I nodded. I vaguely remembered that Latin word. "So, basically, if you crack down on learning your Latin, you'll have a really good clue about what muggle technology does based on the roots, and you'll have an easier time understanding what new spells do." I looked down at the fuming, bushy-haired genius and said, "And, Hermione, if Burbage is so far off from right, that just means this is another target-rich environment. The more stuff you have in your suggestions for improving the class, the more they're likely to implement."

That seemed to mollify her, and Parvati beamed, "And I think we're going to do great in this class. After all, we have our own personal human facts machines!"

Lavender just shook her head and frowned. "Parv. We've talked about this. You have to stop punning. It makes you seem silly."