A barrage of conjured missiles rattled off of the side of the dumpster as I dove behind it, just narrowly missing me. I'd finally gotten a little better at taking falls, and managed to roll on the pavement and bleed off some energy rather than taking it all on my knee. I even managed to pop back up at the end, leveling my blasting rod and using a screamed, "Reducto!" to blow up the trash cans my assailants were using as cover.

With the momentary distraction, I was able to cross from my own cover to the corner of the brick building nearby. Taking the antique fire escape up was risky, because I was exposed if they could get down the alley and around the corner while I was still climbing, but I was chancing that I was faster than they were.

Of course, I hadn't counted on the sound of shoes clanking on iron steps giving away my plan. While they couldn't make the sprint in time to catch me, my attackers were more than capable of hampering me from where they were. One chanted out, "Avis!" and sent a conjured storm of birds pelting around the corner after me, while one quickly transfigured a pile of trash visible at my end of the alley into an aggressive-looking baboon that began chasing me up the fire escape.

Monkeys are fast.

By the time I'd managed to get a lucky shot clubbing the baboon with my blasting rod I'd only gotten a few more steps up the escape, and two pairs of footsteps rounded the corner. "We've got you," the leader said, matter of factly, wand bearing down on me while his partner covered me from behind the dumpster I'd abandoned.

"Fair enough," I grinned. "I didn't expect the monkey."

"Nobody expects the monkey," McGonagall deadpanned from behind the dumpster.

"This room is amazing," Remus said, holstering his wand and taking in the cityscape we'd had the Room of Requirement conjure. "I can't believe we never found it. We thought we'd found everything in the castle."

"You didn't get the Chamber of Secrets either," I told him, clanging back down the fire escape. "Who knows what else nobody knows about? Took a muggleborn asking the house elves to find this one."

"You're at least certain we've accounted for all the passages Black knows about?" McGonagall asked him.

"Unless he kept some of them secret from us. I wouldn't have thought he would, but, well, he did a lot of things I never expected." Remus frowned. "I'm far more worried about an approach through the forest, though. We were quite familiar with navigating it in animal form."

"I still can't believe how reckless you were, going into the forest rather than staying safe in the Shack," the assistant headmistress chided him as if he were still a student.

"You're the head of Gryffindor," I told her.

"Fine. I can believe it, I just don't appreciate it. Remus was always the responsible one."

"It was a relative value, I'm afraid. Lily was the only one that could stand up to James and Sirius when they really wanted to do something stupid." He got a wistful look on his face, remembering his fellow prefect. Remus didn't talk much about his three fellow troublemakers beyond what he'd written in his books, but he almost never talked about Lily Potter, the muggleborn who'd been the Penny or Hermione of her day. What little I'd put together made me think that she was the biggest loss to the world when Voldemort wiped out the Potters: a gifted witch whose life ended far too early.

"Yes. Well, without the passages, we'll just have to hope the denizens of the forest are a deterrent," McGonagall stated, seemingly fighting back her own wistfulness about the departed prodigy. "The centaurs have been informed, though it's unclear how helpful they plan to be, especially with the intrusion of the dementors. I believe Lucius Malfoy's bid to curtail the acromantulas will start over the winter at the earliest, so they may also be a difficulty for Black. I fear they've multiplied extensively since you four wandered the forest."

"And he certainly doesn't know about this room or the Chamber," Remus nodded. "Which may allow us some leeway with deployment, though I'm not yet sure how."

"We can't count on the Chamber," I warned them. "If he was Voldemort's secret second-in-command like they say, he might have been informed at some point."

"I suspect at the very least those rumors are exaggerated to make Minister Fudge feel better," Remus disagreed. "While I clearly didn't keep a good enough watch on him, I'd probably have noticed if he were deeper in the Death Eaters than as a spy. And he was far too young and irresponsible, despite his Black pedigree. If anyone was Voldemort's second from our generation, it would probably have been Lucius or Bellatrix," I hoped they didn't see my wince. "But your point is well-taken. In the meantime, though, this room has too much potential to be held in reserve. I'd like to start using it in my upper-level classes immediately."

"Colin's already told the secret to everyone in Gryffindor anyway," I shrugged. "You wouldn't be able to keep kids out of it, so it's probably best to schedule it officially. This place is already way more popular than the broom closets among the upper-years." The things Oliver alone had let slip involving fulfilling some of his fantasies that required the top box at the quidditch world cup…

McGonagall looked like a vein was about to pop in her forehead as she contemplated the possibilities for teen sexcapades this room represented. "We shan't be having any more of that, at least," she finally grit out. While she was super cool for an old lady in a lot of ways, she was still the daughter of a minister and grew up in the 40s and 50s. She had views on what was proper behavior for her students.

And then her gaze got contemplative as she stared at me. I quickly waved my hands in denial, "Not me! Mathilda can still visit with the unicorns!" I mean, she'd started making some statements like she wasn't sure she wanted to have that particular superpower for much longer, and she'd be a legal adult in the spring…

"See that this status continues," my head of house ordered, in the tone of voice that meant she knew she was trying to hold back the tide with pure force of will.

"But! Speaking of Mathilda, are we done?" I asked the professors. "I promised to go help her help Hagrid with his lesson plan for the year, too. She barely caught him before he showed the third-years hippogriffs their first day, and now he's frantic to figure out what's actually appropriate."

I heard McGonagall muttering, "He's good with the kids. He deserves a chance. He does know a lot about the subject. I just have to let him succeed without micromanaging." Massaging her forehead, she said, louder, "Yes, Hoss, I think we're done. Remus?"

"Yeah, I think we've done all the planning we can," he acknowledged. "I'm going to stick around for a bit and try out some other configurations. The possibilities for showing how to escape from various ambushes are mind-blowing. And if we can get those animated targeting dummies that we talked about…"

I grinned and left them, Remus still imagining using the room as his own personal educational holodeck.

The Room of Requirement was also extremely convenient to Gryffindor tower, so it was no effort at all to pop over, collect my girlfriend, and head down to meet Hagrid. "How'd it go?" she asked, as we walked.

"McGonagall got me with a monkey," I complained.

Mathilda grinned and sagely said, "Gorilla warfare." She'd been on a kick researching apes and monkeys after her escapades defending the school with hit and run tactics the previous year, and I hadn't had the heart to explain to her what a guerilla actually was.

I'd caught her up on my morning by the time we reached Hagrid's hut down on the grounds, on what was a pretty decent Saturday to be outside talking about magical creatures. After pleasantries (involving sharing Hagrid's tea but passing on his cooking), we got onto the meat of the subject, and I suggested, "Maybe a good rule of thumb is nothing past class X creatures for the third years, double-X for the fourth-years, and so on. Save the acromantulas and manticores for the seventh-years."

"But the single-X critters're so borin'!" the half-giant complained, somehow looking like a half-ton toddler despite the immense black beard. "No way I kin do a whole year on flobberworms 'n horklumps!"

"Why don't we see what you have to show off?" Mathilda offered.

"Tha's right! Yer two kin meet the hippogriffs! Yi'll see how docile they are!" Without further preamble, Hagrid grabbed up a brace of dead ferrets he had hanging like gruesome rustic curtains on a rope above his window and led the way out of his house. "You stay, Fang!"

"Poor guy," I said, as the enormous black boarhound whined and laid back down in the corner. "Worried someone will mistake him for Black?"

Hagrid nodded, slinging the ferrets over one shoulder and grabbing his crossbow as we headed into the forest. "I alw'ys suspected those boys had some extra trick to 'em! I even remember wond'rin' whose black dog it was I'd see sneakin' 'bout after curfew. There were a right suspicious stag, too!"

"That would probably have been James Potter," I confirmed, "based on the books. And Peter Pettigrew was a rat, which would have been easier to miss."

"I want to turn into an animal!" Mathilda suddenly insisted. "I can probably do that for my NEWT transfiguration project! Harry! Let's become animagi together!"

I shook my head but grinned at her enthusiasm, "McGonagall already told me I don't have the mental focus to do it, even if I had the time. Not everyone does. But can you imagine if I wound up being a horse animagus? She'd just laugh and laugh. You should definitely try it, though."

"Speakin' o' horses," Hagrid said, gesturing at the paddock he'd led us to, where several hippogriffs lounged around. "C'mon, Beaky!" he yelled, waving the brace of ferrets to get their attention. "Buckbeak's my favorite!"

"Do they really stay inside the fence?" I asked, skeptical that something I could step over would keep in horses with wings.

"Oh, aye. Big herd instinct. As long as they consider this their territory, they'll only leave if they need to hunt. Fence keeps the other critters from botherin' 'em." Hagrid really was a good source of information about these things, and could become a good teacher if he could properly calibrate the danger level to people that weren't nine feet tall and all but impervious to harm.

The large, eagle-headed horse that came to the name "Beaky" eyed me warily, but clearly wanted the ferrets. "Hi, Buckbeak! Remember me?" Mathilda asked, walking a little away from me and bowing at the waist. The beast cocked his head at her and then gave a little bow of his own to her after a moment. "Harry, bow so he knows you're a friend!"

Feeling completely ridiculous but figuring it wasn't that different than the things you had to do to befriend a cat, I shrugged and leaned over the fence. At my height, when I bow, it's hard to miss. The hippogriff was clearly impressed, regarding me for a full ten seconds before finally offering a bow of his own. Introduced to everyone, he ambled the rest of the way over and accepted a tossed ferret from Hagrid, catching and bolting it down in one smooth motion.

Mathilda swung herself over the fence and, with clearly-practiced body language, approached carefully and began to pet Buckbeak's face to his obvious pleasure. "Such a handsome boy you are!" she cooed, and he actually preened. Maybe these things were a lot like cats.

"See! Perfectly safe!" Hagrid announced.

"What happens if someone isn't properly respectful? If you miss the bow and just walk right up? Hell, what if you insult one?" I asked him.

"None of the kids'd do that!" he insisted.

"No Slytherins taking the class?" I asked, knowing the answer. For everyone who wasn't smart enough for arithmancy and runes, and was too prejudiced for muggle studies, the combo of divination and care of magical creatures was their only option. The school probably needed a sixth elective. Maybe something boring like home economics. It would be especially funny if a bunch of pureblood heirs took it thinking they were getting a business management class and wound up having to learn to cook and sew.

"Fair point," the big man nodded, finally getting it. "Mebbe I kin do hippogriffs later, once I've made sure the kids know they kin get hurt if they don't respect the creatures."

"Sounds like a good plan," I told him, and he beamed. "You've got this, man. You just have to remember that some of the kids are jerks and none of them are as tough as you."

"Hagrid!" Mathilda asked. "How much can they fly with? Buckbeak can do a few hundred pounds, right?"

"Oh, aye," he nodded. "Obviously he couldn't lift me, but yeh, no problem."

"What about me and Harry?" she asked, shooting me a flirty glance. Hagrid made an approving grunt. I made a disapproving one. "C'mon, Harry! It'll be fun!"

I just chuckled, handed Hagrid my staff, and vaulted the fence. I thought back to Lily Potter and how she'd been the one to talk her boyfriend out of doing things that were dangerously stupid. While I imagined we'd have gotten along, just like I got along with Penny and Hermione, she would probably have been mad at me all the time. No, I figured a guy as dumb as me needed a witch that wasn't just going to let him get away with taking mad risks, but was going to instigate every now and again.

And, despite my reservations, riding a giant winged horse bareback, clinging to my girlfriend while she clung to his feathered mane, skimming along above the lake was fun. Elaine definitely would never have suggested this, or gone along with it. But the witch wrapped in my arms whose hair smelled of fur and wildflowers was screaming in joy at the thrill of it.

Oh no. I wasn't ready to fall in love again. Was I?