AN - Sorry for the delay getting this one out, for whatever reason the site wouldn't let me upload new documents for a while. Thank you for the review Blumoon00, I am glad you're enjoying and I am just as excited to keep this story going. We are getting a lot closer to the really AU stuff that I am excited about. Enjoy, and feel free to leave reviews!
"Oh, you poor thing," a second year Hufflepuff rubbed a comforting hand on Ron's arm. Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust and got up from the Gryffindor table. Mike was in the infirmary ward resting after the effects of a powerful sleeping curse, along with a pretty nasty head wound. Or so she'd been told.
She'd woken up immediately when she heard the scream, and there had been shouting and gunshots downstairs. The Prefect, rightly so, didn't allow anyone downstairs until someone from the Task Force came up and told them it was safe.
When she'd heard Mike was hurt and in the infirmary ward, she'd wanted to go immediately. They told her he would be fine and reiterated that visitors were not allowed in the infirmary until after breakfast. It was painful waiting through breakfast; and listening to Ron get showered in adoration from girls interested in his story was more than she could bear.
It was close enough to the end of breakfast, she figured. She walked the halls, calming herself from the irritation that had been mounting since Ron started getting his attention. It was absolutely ridiculous. Yes, she could concede that he'd been lucky, Black didn't just blindly attack him after all.
It wasn't like he'd heroically fought the man off though. In fact, he'd screamed! Mike...Brad...that sentry…they'd fought. They'd been injured in the defense of the students. So why on earth was Ron getting any credit?
"Rrah." She couldn't help the vocalization of her frustration. She looked around herself and was happy to see no one around to have heard it. Another minute of walking, trying to calm herself from her stress, and worry, and frustration.
"I just wanted to say 'hi,' we've been friends since first year!" Hermione heard the voice from around the corner as she approached the Infirmary Ward. She slowed a bit, but continued.
"There's still..." the gruffer voice of a sentry most likely, "...thirteen minutes until visiting time." So she was too early as well. She'd made it around the corner in time to see the student huff once and turn to leave. She stood for a moment, then decided to leave as well. She turned but was interrupted. "Miss?"
Hermione turned back toward the sentries, and sure enough one of them was beckoning her towards them. She guessed they weren't keen on people sneaking away from them but wasn't sure. She walked up to them and stood there as the one who'd called her gave an appraising look.
"You're clear, Miss" He stood aside, allowing her access to the door.
"I thought it wasn't visiting time yet." She stood confused for a second. The sentry smiled at her.
"Hermione, right?" he asked. She nodded in affirmation and allowed him to continue. "Mike's a good guy, he'll be glad to see you." He turned back to scanning for threats as if she didn't exist, an obvious ending to the conversation. She decided to roll with it and walked in.
"Well, hey!" The familiar voice, though a little weak, seemed to wash away all of the frustration and ridiculousness of the morning and it left her feeling light again. Then she saw him and her heart sank a little. He was laying in one of the infirmary beds, his eyes still looked really heavy. There was a bandage over his head with the bulk of a dressing over his right eyebrow. I guess he really did hit his head.
"How are you feeling?" She couldn't help the edge of concern that laced her voice. He looked awful. It looked like he'd never slept before in his life and he seemed to be struggling to stay awake. It must have been a pretty powerful sleeping curse.
"Good, now." He smiled at her as she sat lightly on the side of his bed. He sat there for a moment before suddenly raising a dead arm and thumping her across the back of the head. Somehow, he managed to look mortified and exhausted at the same time and she couldn't help a laugh. "I didn't mean..." he trailed off, but she knew what he meant.
A sleeping curse left all of you sleepy. He wasn't just tired, his whole body was exhausted too. She'd expected him to try and hold her hand or something, and in his physical exhaustion, he just didn't have the motor strength to make that happen.
"I know," she said, putting as much comfort as she could into the words. She grabbed his hand and held it between both of hers in her lap. She smiled at the sight, enjoying being back around him again. It had been a longer morning than she was used to.
She thought it was absurd, how fast he'd become an integral part of her life. She never thought of boys. She was all schoolwork, all the time, and she was happy. Or so she'd thought. Now, one morning without her...boyfriend...the word sounded funny in her mind, one morning without him and she'd been reduced to a ball of angry frustration.
She couldn't help another smile at the thought. She knew Mike would tease her about it when she told him. She opened her mouth to speak, but when she looked back at him, he was asleep. Now though, he had a peaceful look on his face instead of the worried one he'd worn earlier.
It took a couple days, but everyone fully recovered from the attack. Mike was sporting a small scar where he'd smacked his head against the table. Madam Pomfrey had offered a salve that would reduce or eliminate the scarring, but he'd only quipped that scars looked badass and he wanted the help with his street cred. She'd rolled her eyes, not fully understanding the muggles.
The downside of things after the attack was that Crookshanks, and by extension Hermione, were bordering on enemy of the state level popularity. It was no secret that Scabbers had been eaten by Crookshanks. Ron had seen to that.
The tale of that orange ball of fur latching onto Corporal Malone's face had made its way around the school. Pretty soon rumors were circulating that Hermione's cat was in on things. Among the wilder theories was that Hermione was a devout follower of You-Know-Who and was helping Sirius Black. Another, popular in Slytherin, was that Hermione was bewitching her cat to attack things and become a serial killer. It was just like a muggle-born to snap after all.
The troops did their best to dispel the wild rumors, though it didn't help that everyone who saw Crookshanks gave the cat a dirty look and a wide berth. None of them seriously believed Hermione was a closet Death Eater, but the scratches on Corporal Malone's face became an image hard to forget.
"I think you ought to quit flattering yourself there, buddy." Mike smiled broadly at Ron, who had been recanting the tale of surviving the infamous murderer.
"Flattering?" Ron asked incredulously. "He almost killed me!" He looked around the table for support but found very little. Harry at least had given him a look of part-understanding. Hermione, who was still on frosty terms with Ron, gave no such look. The operators, who had had a discussion on the subject already, also had no huge supply of sympathy.
"Come on, you're telling me that this killer, who spent years in your worst prison and escaped and then hunted Harry for almost the entire year, managed to get into the sleeping quarters and wait all night during a party, just to lose patience and attack the wrong bed?" Mike shook his head. "Not buying it."
"I agree," Brad said, with an air of finality to his voice. "A glance would have given him the right bed. You guys don't even look a little similar." The others nodded their assent.
"So why did he attack me and then run away instead of finding Harry?" Ron seemed to think this disproved the entire train of thought, and in a way it did. No one had a decent answer. Why would Sirius Black stop his attack once started? It's not like the half-awake student was going to stop him. None of it made any sense.
The conversation, which was being held at the lunch table, was cut short when Hedwig came fluttering in next to Harry. The group sat in silence as Harry pulled a note from the bird's foot and gave it an affectionate scratch on the top of the head. Hedwig flew off as Harry opened the note.
"It's from Hagrid," he said as he read the note. "He wants us to come to his shack when we get a chance."
"If memory serves, we should have time after Potions tonight." It was Mike who spoke up, even though he really didn't have class. Still, they agreed and made plans to stop by after the class.
Thump thump thump. Brad's knuckles rapped against Hagrid's door. It took only a moment, but the large door swung open and revealed the half-giant.
"Righ' abou' time," he beckoned them inside. "Com' in, you lot." Fang's tail was wagging furiously as they entered and Mike immediately knelt down, giving the hound a good scratching behind the ears. They all took places near the kitchen table and waited a moment while Hagrid got settled.
He'd set out a small tray of what appeared to be baked treats, or an attempt at them anyways. They were severely blackened on the edges. It didn't stop Mike from helping himself to one. It crunched rather loudly, discouraging anyone else from making an attempt.
"So, I suppose you wanted to hear about Sirius?" Ron inquired. Mike put his face in his hand while Hermione huffed. Ron had been unbearable about the attack, and while no one else believed that it was the reason for Hagrid's summons, Ron wouldn't hear it.
"Wha'?" asked the giant, with a genuinely confused look on his thickly bearded face. He shook his head after a moment. "O' course not, I 'eard plen'y."
The broadness of Mike's smile was proportional to the deepness of Ron's frown at the revelation that he was in fact not the center of the universe for the coming pow-wow.
"What's the good word, Hagrid?" Brad asked politely. Hagrid sighed.
"Buckbeak's trial...it did'n' go so well." Hagrid stared at his great hands for a moment while the news sank in.
"Seriously?" Mike was the first to break the silence, but certainly not the last.
"Our report didn't cut it? We made it pretty clear that Malfoy instigated it." Brad seemed genuinely confused. He hadn't seriously considered the possibility that Buckbeak would lose the trial.
"They didn' allow it," Hagrid huffed. "Lucius," the word seemed to taste bitter in his mouth, "tha's Draco's da', said tha' muggles got no bus'ness in wizardin' affairs. Ministry bough' it."
"Well, that's some bullshit." Mike said. He sat for a moment longer before giving the great man a comforting pat on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, man." The others murmured in agreement.
"The Ministry's holdin' an appeal," Hagrid said, sniffing loudly. "It'll be here, at Hogwart's. Won'ered if you'd be willn' ter help?"
"Of course," Brad said immediately. It surprised him that Hagrid even felt he needed to ask. There was no way they were letting that little blonde asshole get away with setting up Buckbeak. "Give us the word, we'll be there." Everyone agreed.
"Thanks," Hagrid said. "Well, tha's all I needed ter talk ta you lot abou'." He stood gesturing toward the door before a thoughtful look crossed his face. He pointed a finger at Ron. "Well, 'cept fer you, I need a word with you."
He smirked at the others as they filed out, obviously certain that Hagrid wanted to know about the attack. When the door shut, the group stood there for a moment.
"I need ter talk ta you abou' Hermione," Hagrid said. It was loud enough that they could all hear it. It didn't take them more than a moment to realize that a window was open.
"Oh..." Ron said lamely, "Well, she really-"
"She really needs 'er frien' back, ya great git," Hagrid said, thumping a hand on the table. Hermione blushed and Mike let out a laugh before struggling to stifle it.
"I can't help if she-" Ron started, but Hagrid was having none of it.
"She didn' sic 'er cat on Scabbers. You an' I both know yer rat was old an' tired, long before 'er cat came near. An' you didn' do much to keep yer rat from Crookshank's, le's not forget!" Hagrid sounded firm, serious. None of the jovial edge to his voice that it normally had. Ron was really getting it.
"Well, I-" Ron sputtered, but Hagrid seemed to know he had the boy on the ropes and went in for the finish.
"She's always been a grea' friend ter you, Ron," Hagrid said sharply. "I though' I knew you Weasley lot better 'n tha'," he said. There were a few thumping steps behind the door and it swung open. Hagrid ushered out a stunned looking Ron.
"Thanks fer stoppin' by, an' thanks fer yer help," Hagrid said. They exchanged goodbyes and parted ways. Ron fell back toward Hermione on the way back and Mike sped up, leaving the two of them with a little privacy.
"Look, I'm sorry," Ron said, watching his feet as he walked. "I-"
"It's alright, I'm sorry about Scabbers," Hermione said, not wanting to listen to Ron struggle anymore. It was enough for her that he was taking the first step. They caught up to the rest of the gang and headed back to the common room for the night.
Later that night, Harry lay in bed awake. There wasn't any real reason for it, not one he could think of anyway. He felt bad for Hagrid. Buckbeak too, to an extent, but mostly Hagrid. The Hippogriff was a really neat creature, and riding it had been nothing short of exhilarating. Terrifying and exhilarating.
Hagrid though, would always be someone close to Harry. He'd been Harry's first step into the world of witches and wizards. Never once did he have an inkling that he had magic in him, and Hagrid cleared that right up. Not just that, but the half-giant had always been there to support Harry.
He was a truly kindhearted person, someone you could count on to have your back. It seemed that the great man had an equally large heart when it came to animals as well, loving them more than anyone Harry had ever met. Any creature under Hagrid's charge was sure to have a wonderful life, and it made him happy that Hagrid had the job of Gamekeeper.
It cut Hagrid deeply that someone had been hurt in his class, even a slime-ball like Malfoy. What hurt him more, however, was his inability to protect the Hippogriff. Hagrid was taking it hard, and Harry was determined to do what he could to help. Not just for Buckbeak, but for the man who had done so much for him already.
It made him feel a little better that the others saw it the same way too. Not just Ron and Hermione, but the operators. They weren't watching closely for Hagrid to fail like so many others, and so they were able to see the truth. They paid attention and watched Malfoy instigate the animal. That they were all willing to step forward and defend the Hippogriff did a lot to ease his heart.
Harry looked at the clock. Just a few minutes past midnight. He still really didn't feel tired. It was going to make for a long day tomorrow if he didn't get any sleep. Closing his eyes, he tried to relax. It was quiet for a long moment, relaxing.
"Hngdggghhhh-Pppwwwww," Ron snored loudly from his bed next to Harry's, snapping Harry from his relaxation.
Harry sighed and sat up, grabbing his map. He'd once watched more than one student get caught by prefects and staff during the night.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he whispered, tapping his wand on the parchment. It revealed the map, and he studied it for a moment. He saw that Percy was walking along the first floor, doing one of his patrols. The Prefects weren't obligated to do their patrols this year, since the soldiers were handling that particular task. Percy took it as his duty, however, and refused to shirk the responsibility.
He found a name wandering near the Great Hall. Cowen Fergus was walking toward the hall, probably looking for a late-night snack. He'd never heard the name before, but he found it amusing to watch as Minerva McGonagall walked slowly from behind, the two names stopped moving for a minute, and then moved quickly and closely to the Slytherin dungeon. He imagined that the next morning he would see Slytherin down by several points. He studied the map for a moment longer, not seeing anyone else wandering the corridors. He started to close the map when he noticed a name skirting along the second-floor corridor.
Peter Pettigrew, it said. How was that possible? He was dead. He wondered for a moment if he'd also had a child, one that had the same name and went to Hogwarts. It would make sense that they would be in his year. But he'd never heard the name during the Sorting…
He removed the covers and stood up, stepping into a pair of slippers and snatching his father's cloak. He wrapped himself in it and headed downstairs, sneaking past the sleeping operators in their various couches and chairs. He left a pair of puzzled sentries outside the common room as the portrait opened but no one was around.
Downstairs, he walked slowly, using the tip of his wand to keep the cloak away from his face so he could keep an eye on the map. According to it, this Peter Pettigrew was just down the hall and to the right, in a little alcove.
Squeak! The sound came from the area the map was indicating and it made his heart hammer. He tried to free his wand from beneath the cloak, in case he needed to use it, but it was causing the map to wrinkle and getting in the way. He sighed briefly, deciding to shed the cloak. He was confident that if it came down to it, he could hold his own. His sparring lessons with Brad had been improving and he was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts student in his year.
He slid the cloak off, stuffing it behind a suit of armor in the hallway. Squeak! He was closer to the nook now, the light from his wand just starting to illuminate the hall in front of it.
"Ah!" he yelped as something knocked into his leg. He saw a flash of orange shoot past him, though it didn't take long to identify the culprit. Crookshanks darted toward the little alcove, then turned sharply back toward the hall as though chasing something. It only took a second for the cat to disappear into the darkness of the hallway beyond.
Harry bit his lip, knowing deep in his gut he'd made a mistake. He shouldn't have let the surprise escape his lips, damn it. He glanced at the map and felt a moment of confusion. Peter Pettigrew's name was quickly moving along down the corridor away from him. Harry was certain he hadn't seen anyone. Crookshanks gave him a start, but the only way into the hall had been illuminated by Harry's wand. No one was there.
Harry felt a painful adrenaline rush as he noticed something he hadn't before, as he was too focused on Peter's name. Severus Snape was very rapidly approaching him, no doubt in response to his little yelp. Shit. Harry was too far from his cloak to reach it in time.
"Mischief managed," he tapped the parchment, then stuffed it in his back pocket. "Nox." The light at the tip of his wand went out. Harry put his wand in another pocket and started walking slowly back to the common room. He'd almost made it to the stairs before being intercepted.
"Mr. Potter," Snape appeared out of the darkness, his wand lighting silently. Harry jumped, not expecting the professor to be so close. "Out for a late-night stroll?" he drawled, eyeing Harry suspiciously.
"Sir," was all Harry could manage. Damn it all, he should have had some kind of excuse lined up. It wasn't like he could tell Snape about the Peter person without revealing the map. He wasn't even sure Peter was a person. Harry definitely hadn't seen anyone in the hall, perhaps it had some faults.
"Why the guilty look, Potter?" Snape asked, his wand still shining brightly in Harry's face. It was almost enough to make his eyes ache. "You've broken enough rules by now you should be numb to the guilt."
"I was just-" Harry started, but was immediately cut short by Snape.
"You were just out in the hall after hours..." Snape eyed him sharply. "Ten points for Gryffindor. Turn out your pockets." Harry couldn't help the look of surprise on his face. He hadn't expected that. "Now!"
Harry pulled the map from his back pocket and the wand from his front. They were the only two items on him at that point, his cloak safe behind a suit of armor just down the hall. He didn't hand either over at once, which Snape seemed to resent. He snatched the map out of Harry's hand.
"What have we here?" Snape asked, opening and eyeing the empty, obviously worn parchment.
"A piece of parchment, sir." Harry tried his best to sound sincere and polite. If it worked, Snape wasn't showing it.
"Of course," he replied. "A ratty piece of parchment that you like to carry around after hours..." Snape seemed to mull it over. "Perhaps it would be best if I just destroyed it."
"No!" Harry exclaimed, immediately regretting the knee-jerk reaction. Snape smiled crookedly.
"So, it isn't just a ratty parchment..." He looked down at the map and pointed his wand at it. "Reveal yourself," he said. Nothing happened. "Severus Snape, Professor of this school commands you to reveal your secrets!"
As though by an invisible hand, words began to appear on the parchment. At first, Harry thought the map was forming. It turned out not to be so.
Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape and begs the Professor to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business.
"What is the meaning of this?" Snape asked icily. Harry didn't move, he was completely confused by the turn of events. He'd recognized the name as one of the Marauder's whose name adorned the map each time he activated it, but he'd never seen it talk to anyone.
Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.
Snape stared as more and more words appeared slowly on the parchment. Harry didn't move a muscle. He'd be tempted to laugh if he wasn't so mortified. Certainly, Snape would blame Harry for the words.
Mr. Padfoot would like to express his astonishment that an idiot like the Professor ever managed to get the job in the first place.
Mr. Wormtail bids the Professor a good day and advises the Professor to wash his hair, the slimeball.
"How did you come by this." Snape asked the question slowly, evenly, never taking his eyes off of the parchment.
"I found it," Harry said automatically. Like hell he was going to get the twins in trouble. Before the Professor could interject, Harry continued with the first thing he could think of. "The corner was sticking out from behind a painting in the boy's dormitory."
"We will see about that-" Snape started, but another voice interrupted before he could finish the thought.
"Professor, Harry, everything alright?" Professor Lupin's sickly face looked slightly worse in the dark, illuminated by the bright wand that Snape was holding up. The shadows cast across the man's face were unsettling, and yet Harry had never been happier to see another person.
"What luck," Snape drawled as he gave Lupin a glare. Snape held the paper up for Lupin to take. "I caught Harry sneaking around after hours, and with this rather curious parchment. Perhaps you can enlighten me, it appears to be full of dark magic."
Dark magic? There was no way a few insults could be construed as dark magic. He couldn't possibly pin the use of dark magic on Harry…
"Dark magic?" Lupin mirrored Harry's thoughts aloud. "Hardly. It looks like a prank enchantment of some sort, a rather good one I think, probably from a joke sho-"
"Such a complex, good, prank parchment..." Snape cut him off coldly. "You don't think it more likely he got it directly from the manufacturer?" The comment confused Harry, but he said nothing. He didn't figure anything he said could help him right now.
"That seems-" Lupin started, looking like he wasn't quite sure what to say next. He was cut off by a sharp voice from the second-floor corridor.
"Professor Snape, I really must-" Professor McGonagall stopped short when she noticed Professor Lupin and Harry as well. She eyed Harry suspiciously. "Mr. Potter, might I ask why you are out of bed?"
"I-" Harry started, but was cut short by Lupin.
"He was attending a private lesson with me," Lupin didn't bat an eye at Harry, just stayed focused on McGonagall. "We have been working on Patronus charms. As I am sure you saw recently, he's doing quite well."
"You might do well to try and find a different time for these lessons," McGonagall said. "Students need sleep as well." She shifted her gaze to Professor Snape. "On that note, you will be wanting to talk to Mr. Cowen Fergus. I caught him trying to get food out of the great hall..." She turned back to Harry and Lupin. "Well, off to bed with you!"
"Good night Professors," Harry said, turning quickly and heading up the stairs. He heard Lupin excuse himself and then follow Harry. A quick glance back and he caught Professor McGonagall leading Snape back toward the dungeon to deal with the poor first year, and Professor Lupin directly behind him. "Thank you, Pro-"
"I don't want your thanks and I don't want your excuses," Lupin said curtly, stopping Harry in his tracks. Now that he looked closely, the Professor looked livid. "I happen to know this map was confiscated by Mr. Filch many years ago, and yes I know it is a map. I don't want to know how it came into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you did not turn it in, especially considering what happened the last time someone left information lying about the castle. I can't let you have this back, Harry."
Harry hadn't expected Lupin to give it back and the questions swimming around his brain were too much for him to leave alone. "Why did Professor Snape think I got it from the manufacturers?"
"Because," he started hesitantly. "These manufacturers would want to use it to lure you out of the school. They'd find it very entertaining."
"You knew them!?" Harry asked incredulously. That might explain why Snape was so suspicious.
"I did," Lupin said, looking at Harry gravely. "Do not expect me to cover up for you again. I cannot force you to take the threat of Sirius Black seriously, but I would have thought that the presence of dementors in Hogsmeade and the soldiers here would have proven to you how serious it is. Your parents died to protect you and it is a poor way to repay their sacrifice, gambling with your life like this."
"I'm sorry, Professor." Harry said sullenly.
"It isn't me you should be sorry to," Lupin replied, hammering the sinking feeling a little deeper.
"I think the map is broken, anyways." Harry figured it was worth mentioning, since the Professor was keeping it. "It showed a student in the hall, a Peter Pettigrew. I didn't see him there where it said he was."
"You're certain that was the name?" Lupin asked, a poorly covered look of shock on his face.
"Yeah," Harry said. "I didn't see him though."
"Go get some rest, Harry." Lupin said, turning and heading down the stairs. Harry watched for a moment, then headed back upstairs to the Gryffindor Tower.