AN - I am blown away by the reads and alerts on the story so far. I know I've said it before, but thank you all for giving this story a chance. Thank all of you who have reviewed, it definitely motivates an author and helps me learn as I go. Enjoy and please feel free to leave a review.

A couple days after Christmas, school was back in session. It had been a large event when the students showed back up on the train. The Ministry had remained firm in their assertion that the Task Force would only provide security during the Christmas Holiday. Attempts by Colonel Sumner, Headmaster Dumbledore, and even General Thomas had fallen on deaf ears. Minister Fudge insisted that Ministry controlled dementors would provide security in the town.

When the students arrived in Hogsmeade there were transport vehicles already lined up. Humvee's were in place around them to escort the convoy as it departed for the school. As soon as the students were safely outside town limits and all students were accounted for, the swarm of dementors approached from the train tracks.

As negotiated, the elements from TFA fell back in a controlled manner. There was very little lapse in security, the troops ordered not to risk close personal contact with dementors. It was much to the consternation of the residents of Hogsmeade, as the dementors insisted on a full sweep of the town before beginning their regular patrols. Not one person in town was happy to see the muggle soldiers leave.

Back at the school, classes started strong. Harry and Ron were often working together on homework, leaving Hermione out of their studies. It was a childish attempt at lashing out for her part in getting the Firebolt taken away, which McGonagall readily agreed to.

Their ostracizing of Hermione was largely ineffective, and, as Mike enjoyed pointing out, to the detriment of their studies in most cases. It took them almost twice as long in some cases to do the same assignment as she did, and they never got the better grade. Still, they did their best to ignore her.

This proved difficult, as none of them were removed from the protection of the operators and none of them were willing to move away from the soldier's table during mealtimes. Ron soon found that the operators would quickly put a stop to any overt rudeness, and Ron and Hermione took to simply not talking to each other.

Harry was less obvious about his frustration with Hermione, though if anyone asked he would answer honestly that he was upset with her for getting his broom taken away. No one did ask, however. Harry generally opted for solitude once the term started and the others gave it to him, even if it wasn't a conscious choice.

There was a lot on Harry's mind, not the least of which was the stress caused by Sirius Black. It was enough that Sirius had escaped from an inescapable prison that there had to be a cadre of soldiers around him at any given time to keep him safe. That was enough stress, or so Harry felt. Life, however, had other plans and it didn't take Harry's personal views on fairness into account.

Since he'd learned about the monstrous betrayal it became a daily fight to keep it off of his mind. He found himself in the same loop over and over. Sirius was coming to kill him, Sirius was responsible for the death of his parents, he wanted to kill Sirius, he knew he likely couldn't match the man in a fight, the soldiers would handle it, but Sirius had killed his parents...over and over. He'd eventually leave off on how the soldiers would likely take care of the escaped prisoner before Harry ever laid eyes on him, but inevitably he came back around to these thoughts.

It was not helpful that his broom was taken. He understood it, logically. If he really got down to thinking about it, of course it would make sense. Sirius wanted him dead after all, and it was no secret that Harry was a top notch Quidditch player without a broom. A sabotaged Firebolt would be the surest way to hurt him from a distance.

That was all true, provided he was looking at things logically. Lately he was less prone to logic and more emotional than he normally was. Perhaps it was the madman coming to kill him, or the regular adolescent woes, or the fact that he was constantly under guard. They did their best to make it feel like friends just hanging out, but he knew it wasn't the case. Not one hundred percent anyway. All of it contributed to his having a slightly shorter temper and a more brooding attitude.

It wasn't until his Defense Against the Dark Arts class that he even remembered that he had a class to be excited about. He'd asked last term about the possibility of an independent study with Professor Lupin to learn the Patronus charm. He was particularly susceptible to the coldness of dementors, one more stone that weighed him down. It gave him a strong desire to learn a defense against it.

He spent the entire class waiting to talk to the Professor. Lupin appeared to remain focused on the class and if he was as excited to teach the charm to Harry as Harry was to learn it, there was no sign of it.

The class seemed to drag on for Harry, which was an accomplishment seeing as this was Harry's favorite subject. It was absolutely his best study, with consistent Outstanding grades. Today's course was no less interesting. They were covering the basics of how goblins are known to fight. Lupin readily admitted there hadn't been serious conflict between goblins and wizards in almost half a century, but it was good general knowledge to have.

At the end of the class, Lupin asked Harry to stay. They waited until everyone else filed out of the room before Lupin said anything.

"How was your holiday, Harry?" he asked, sitting down wearily in his chair. The Professor looked tired and pale, as though fighting off an illness.

"It was good, sir," Harry replied, wondering if the lie was as obvious as it felt. It wasn't bad, but good was a far stretch from the truth. If Lupin detected the lie, he gave no sign of it. "How are you?" Harry couldn't help but wonder what could be ailing the Professor.

"I'm well myself," he said. Unlike Harry's, the lie was a little more obvious. Harry let it stand. "I have to ask, Harry, are you sure you want to go through with learning the Patronus charm?"

"Sir?" Harry felt himself reeling. He'd looked forward to gaining some semblance of control over his own defense. Learning the Patronus was the first step in defending himself against things with the power to hurt him. He couldn't stand the thought of Lupin backing out now.

"Please, don't misunderstand me." Lupin read the look on Harry's face apparently and held his hands out in a placating gesture. "I am perfectly willing to try teaching you. The Patronus is an advanced charm, however, and I am by no means an expert in its use. I will teach you all I can about it, but it will be exhausting and there is no guarantee you'll be able to accomplish it so young."

"I want to learn it, sir." Harry didn't waver. He saw what Lupin was saying, but if Harry was ever going to be able to fully defend himself instead of relying on others, he needed to just start learning things. He was determined to do this, age be damned.

"I see. I have cleared it with Professor Binns to use his classroom for our training. This room is a little small, I'm afraid. You and I both have Thursday evenings off, say around six?" Harry nodded quickly, accepting the proposed time easily. It dawned on him that it might take him past lights out, but Lupin beat him to the question. "I'll set up a note and talk to your escort."

"Thanks," Harry said, not knowing what else to say. They exchanged goodbyes and Harry went on his way. His thoughts were about how, soon, he would be able to defend himself, at least against dementors. They wouldn't hold the power to knock him unconscious every time they came near.

But then there was Sirius. He'd hardly be affected by a Patronus charm, and likely knew far more in the way of both offensive and defensive magic than Harry would. Just like that he was back in the cycle.

Hermione found herself in such a unique combination of emotions that she was beginning to wonder which way was up. She was starting to be concerned about her classwork, though this was a superficial concern. She was still comprehending the material and displaying that comprehension better than anyone in the school, but she was a bit distracted in class, which was new to her.

Some of her earliest memories of school concerned her excelling in class. It had cost her the few friends she had and caused what had been, thus far, a lifelong pursuit to excel in all classes. She worked hard to concentrate in class, to be the first to really understand the how and why of what they were learning. It was a habit now, and one she wasn't familiar with breaking.

On the one hand, her relationship with Harry and Ron had taken a turn for the worse. It was awful that they couldn't see that she was looking out for them. It was for safety's sake she turned the broom in. Try explaining that to them, though. With school back in, it was even worse. Ron let it slip...being honest, he probably intentionally let it slip...that she had cost the team a Firebolt. Every time a Gryffindor Quidditch player passed, there were mean looks and rude gestures.

Mike, however...there was a subject that could wipe the emotional slate clean, at least for a while. They'd never come out and said it, but as best as she could figure, they were in a relationship. Their dynamic had completely changed, and as obvious as it likely was, no one mentioned it. They were often closer to each other than was socially appropriate unless you were in a relationship.

Charms had been a pretty easy class, mostly introductory work on the more complex illumination charms. She'd been comfortable with them since second year and easily proved to Professor Flitwick that she'd mastered them. He gave Gryffindor five points and moved on, teaching the course.

Now that it was over she found herself, again, searching for Mike's face in the crowd as she left the room. It would have irritated her, that her heart leapt as she searched, if it didn't make her feel so good and alive. She'd prided herself on not being a romanticizing schoolgirl, and yet here she was. She felt a pang of disappointment as the crowd cleared and Mike was nowhere to be seen. The sinking feeling in her chest wasn't strong, but it was apparent. Until, that is, strong fingers gripped her sides, right where she was most ticklish.

"Aie!" she yelped, jumping and tucking her elbows against the surprise. She turned and saw Mike smiling warmly at her, and she glared at him, struggling to hide the hint of a smile. He loosened his grip on her sides as she turned, though he didn't let her go.

"You know I'm ticklish there," she said, trying to look stern. It obviously failed, as he smiled bigger at her and nodded.

"Yeah," he replied. She rolled her eyes. She'd known he did it on purpose, and apparently he knew she knew too. "How was class?" He gently pressured her side, turning her so they could walk together, leaving an arm wrapped around the small of her back. It was a little thing, but she really enjoyed it. That proof that he absolutely wanted to be around her, to be close to her. That he chose to hold her near.

"It was good," she said without thinking. "I mean, I've already figured out illumination spells..."

"I figured as much," Mike chuckled. Her passion for learning was one of his favorite things about her. Well, maybe not her passion for learning as much as just the passion. He didn't imagine it mattered what she was passionate about, seeing her light up was its own reward.

"It'll give me time to focus on Carpe Retractum...a pulling charm." She went on explaining how, while she had the technique down, she needed to master putting her weight behind it in order to move heavier objects. It was difficult to hold the spell and move her body in the opposite direction with force enough to move things. Mike listened raptly, providing input here and there as they walked together to her next class.

Harry was already partially awake, having heard Brad's soft footsteps even before feeling the soft touch meant to wake him. Harry rolled over and looked at the soldier, who was dressed in his sparring clothing. Harry had been skimping on the personal combat lessons and it looked like Brad was through with waiting.

"Rise and shine," Brad whispered, not wanting to wake any of the other sleeping boys. Harry got up and dressed himself in pants and a t-shirt, the duo making their way to the hard, cold sparring room. "Been a while, lets warm up a bit." Brad indicated the row of dummies along one of the walls.

"Alright." Harry stepped over to the closest dummy and looked at it. It was shaped like a tough looking man, sans the arms and legs. Harry stared at it for a moment, really not feeling like doing the work. He didn't want to have to learn fighting, it would be so much easier to be one of the other kids in the school, with nothing but adolescent worries. It wasn't his fate, however.

Harry threw a half-hearted punch at the dummy, catching it in the middle of the chest. He stared at it a moment longer before a loud smack reverberated throughout the room. Harry looked over to see Brad striking and lining up for another hit. He struck the dummy several times, hard and fast. Harry would loath to be on the wrong end of Brad, that was for sure.

He thought back to how Brad had taught him to hit. He made sure to rotate his body with the punch he threw, putting his weight behind it and landing a solid strike. He looked at the dummy, wishing it was Sirius Black, the source of most of the problems in his life. He needed the security because Sirius was hunting him, he had no parents because Sirius betrayed them...the more he thought about it, the more angry he got.

He struck the dummy again, this time with more force. Using the momentum of the previous strike, he threw a vicious knee into its side. The knee felt like it would have done a lot of damage, so he held the dummy and threw several more knees into its side. On the last hit, he wrapped one arm around its neck, as he'd seen Brad do, and threw his other elbow with all its might into the dummy's face.

"Woah there, tiger," Brad called from closer than Harry expected. Harry stopped, the anger seemingly washed from his body. "You alright?" Brad gestured toward Harry's arm. The confusion didn't last, it seemed as though Brad's gesture turned the nerves back on in Harry's body. His elbow began to ache terribly and when Harry looked, it was dripping a steady flow of blood. His knee hurt as well, though it wasn't bleeding.

"Oh, I..." Harry wasn't sure what he wanted to say, so he just closed his mouth and gripped the elbow that was bleeding.

"Need to work something out?" Brad finished inquisitively. Harry nodded, not knowing what else to do. "If you need to talk, man, just let me know." He said it with a surprising intensity that told Harry he was serious.

"I..." Harry paused. It didn't take much thinking to determine whether or not he trusted Brad. He'd shown nothing but commitment to keeping Harry safe. And it's not like his foray to Hogsmeade was a secret from Brad. He hadn't come to a conscious decision to talk to Brad, but apparently his subconscious had made the decision for him. "Sirius got my parents killed." He said it matter-of-factly, and it hung in the air for a moment.

"Damn," Brad said. He was no stranger to loss, his own parents having been killed in a terrorist attack on the World Trade Centers. He didn't often think about them. It was a unique brand of hurt. It was already a truly painful wound, to lose your parents so young. Worse than that was his almost complete lack of memory about them.

When he thought about it hard, usually alone at night, he thought he remembered a celebration with his parents. It was only flashes, a lot of smiling and a cake. He wasn't certain at all that it was a real memory, sometimes he wondered if it was his imagination. His parents' faces mentally photo-shopped into a generic happy memory. He still wasn't sure, but it was really all he had.

"He was their friend," Harry opted to continue, to tell the whole story. "They grew up together. When Voldemort was hunting my parents, they did this...charm...it hides you completely. It requires a secret keeper, and my parents chose Sirius. He betrayed them, told Voldemort where to look. And he..." Harry didn't need to finish, Brad knew what happened next.

It shed a new light on the situation with Sirius. This wasn't just a man hunting down his former lord's enemy. He was trying to finish a task he'd already started. It was more personal than they'd known. It didn't change a lot, but it helped them understand, and knowledge is power.

"I'm sorry, man," Brad said. "You know, that means it's personal. Makes the chances of that broom coming from him skyrocket."

"Yeah," Harry gave a half-smile. He'd logically known it for a while now, but hadn't been ready to admit it to himself. He really needed to apologize to Hermione and get Ron to lay off a bit.

"Don't worry, we'll smoke that fucker when we find him," Brad said.

"Thanks," Harry replied. He actually did feel a bit better, but the weight off his chest left him feeling more exhausted. The ache in his elbow didn't help either.

"Come on, let's go get you patched up," Brad said, leading Harry to the infirmary wing.

Later that night, Harry waited for Hermione to get to the common room. He didn't stew, not exactly. It was more a sense that he just wanted to get this done. It was long overdue and he was ready to apologize. Hermione wasn't the first one in, however. Ron came through the doorway with Eric close in tow. Harry gave Eric a pointed look as they entered and, to his credit, Eric immediately caught his drift and excused himself.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said, curious at the serious look on his best friends face. He came and took a seat in a nearby chair.

"I think we've been to harsh on Hermione," Harry just got right to the point. He knew Ron would try and argue, but hoped that the direct path would be the shortest.

"Too harsh with her?" he asked incredulously. "Are you hearing yourself? A Firebolt Harry!"

"She was trying to protect me, and she was right," Harry continued, choosing to ignore Ron's obvious contempt. "It is an obvious way to come after me and caution is the best course. I don't have to like it, but I understand it and you should too."

Ron was silent for a moment, digesting this. He'd been unprepared for his best friend to try and deflate his righteous anger, but he wasn't sure he was ready to give it up. "Do you really think Sirius Black could afford a Firebolt?"

"I don't know, but it won't hurt to make sure it's safe. We need to apologize to her." Harry's voice was stern, final. He left no wiggle room for his friend.

"Right, well go ahead. I'll apologize once she apologizes for trying to kill Scabbers." Ron got up and headed upstairs without another word. Harry hoped he would at least stop being rude to her.

Harry didn't have to wait long before Hermione and Mike came in. They'd obviously been having fun, both of their eyes twinkling and their mouths twisted into grins about some amusing comment made before they'd entered the common room.

"Hey, Hermione. Could I have a word?" Harry asked, trying to sound as natural as possible. He wasn't sure it worked, as the two immediately lost their grins. Mike stepped back but did not leave as Hermione closed the distance and sat next to Harry. She was really great about being the better person, she had every right to just blow him off.

"I wanted to apologize. I know you were just looking out for me and I shouldn't have been so rotten to you. And I shouldn't have let Ron get so carried away," Harry said, unable to bring himself to look into her eyes. "I...I just want to be friends again." Harry hadn't meant to say the last part out loud, but clearly it was the right thing to say. She leapt across the seat and embraced him in a hug.

"Thanks," she said, relieved to have at least one of her best friends back. "I just wanted to do what was best." She broke the hug. Her eyes were glistening, but not spilling over.

"I know, and you did." Harry was surprised how good it felt to have her back. She accepted him so quickly, she really was a genuinely good person. "I just wasn't ready to admit it. I talked to Ron. He's upset about Scabbers, but I think he's going to lay off." In truth, he had no idea if Ron would calm down at all, but he really did hope so.

"Oh, I wish he'd get over it. He's a cat, he chases rats." Hermione sighed. "I try to keep him under control, but I can't help it if Ron lets the rat out anywhere and everywhere."

Before he could reply, however, Oliver Wood came bursting into the room. He had a crazed look on his face and Mike reflexively reached for his sidearm before the Quidditch Captain spoke.

"Ravenclaw lost! We're back in the running!" It took them a minute to understand what he was saying, but Harry felt his heart hammering when he understood. They were back in the running for the Quidditch Cup. "We'll have to hold extra practice, Harry, I'll need you at your best." Wood paused a moment, then darted upstairs to share the news with the rest of the boys on the team.

Harry couldn't help the thought that came to mind next. Sure could use that Firebolt now...