I'd learned a lot during my first lesson with Snape.

For one thing, it was possible to be so wrapped up in legilimency that you lost awareness of the outside world. That meant that you were vulnerable to anyone with a wand.

I'd have to be careful about that. It wasn't hard to use a wand and then stick it back in a pocket.

Next, I'd been able to keep him away from noticing my insects mostly. The times that I hadn't were regrettable, but ultimately not something he was going to remember.

Third, sometimes there would be bleed through. There had been a point where Snape had started to experience my memory instead of simply see it. I'd experienced some of his mind at that time as well. I hadn't really been able to see anything; just a sense that he'd seen aspects of my being bullied in his own life when he'd been younger.

I didn't need to see the specifics; the feelings were more than enough.

It seemed that many things in the Wizarding World were things that cut both ways.

Becoming an animagus was terribly dangerous for obvious reasons. Yet learning it might be the edge I needed if I were ever caught by the Death Eaters and they didn't do the intelligent thing and simply end me.

It was one of the few defenses that didn't need a wand at all, which meant that it was good for those times that a person was disarmed.

Most wizards didn't bother; it was primarily useful for reconnaissance and stealth, and it was always possible to get something entirely useless, like a deer or a beaver or a turtle.

I'd read that the form of the patronus was often indicative of the animal you would become. If that was true, I might as well give up the endeavor entirely.

Yet knowing how to become one didn't mean I needed to use it. It was better to have more cards up my sleeve and not need them, than to have none when I was losing.

Better still, I had a wizard who knew how to do it right here.

"Mr. Black," I said carefully. "I want to thank you for allowing us to stay in your house."

"Are you planning to turn me into a rock again?" he asked. He was sitting at the table and stating at his drink. Apparently things weren't going as well with Harry as he'd hoped.

"If it'll save your life or someone else's, absolutely," I said. "Do I need to turn you into a rock again?"

"Could you?" he asked.

The signs of depression were obvious to me; I'd lived with it in my own house for years. I'd experienced it myself.

"He's not James," I said.

From the glimpses I'd seen in Snape's mind when he thought I wasn't looking, that was probably a good thing.

Sirius had been pushing too hard; trying to create a relationship from scratch a little too quickly. Harry was fascinated by stories about his parents, but he wasn't the child he'd once been.

He'd seen the threat the death Eaters posed, and he'd applied himself commendably.

"I'd have thought he'd be a little more fun loving," Sirius said. He slowly tilted the drink in his hand. "But instead he's focused and determined. He's a lot more like Lily than his father."

"I've been training him for more than a year," I said. "Trying to keep him alive."

He stared at me uncomprehendingly, and I sighed. Apparently he didn't know my reputation as well as everyone else did.

"He's never, ever going to be able to relax until the Death Eaters and their master are dead and gone."

"I just expected to see more... something," he said, waving his hand with a look of frustration on his face. "It's like he just doesn't like to have fun."

"He likes it," I said. "He's just a little more serious than you."

He stared at me for a moment, then grinned ruefully.

"It takes time to become a family," I continued. "You can't force it."

He stared back down at his cup, his face settling back into a frown.

"Would you like something that might help bring you closer to him?"

His expression sharpened, and he stared at me.

"Harry needs every little advantage that he can get," I said. "And he's not the only one. How hard was it for you to become an animagus?"

He laughed, a short, almost barking sound.

"If it was easy, everybody would do it," he said. "It saved my life, but most people aren't going to end up in prison."

"I've been in prison before," I said. If he checked, he'd assume I meant in this lifetime when I'd been under arrest by the Ministry. "It's possible that I might be again."

"You want to learn?" he asked.

I shrugged noncommittally.

"How long would it take?" I asked.

"You've got to harvest a mandrake root," he said. "And keep it's leaf in your mouth for an entire month. If it slips out, you have to start over."

"Even when you sleep?" I asked.

"You wouldn't believe how easy it is to accidentally eat a mandrake root while you are eating a nice roast beef," he said. "And if you fail, you start all over."

I nodded.

"Then you have to use the leaf to make a potion," he said. "Hope that the moon shines, because it's the last step in making the potion, and if it's overcast or something... well, it's back to sucking on mandrake leaves for another month."

"What else is in the potion?" I asked.

"Dew that hasn't been exposed to sunlight or human feet for a full seven days. The chrysalis of a Death's Head moth.

I'd have to breed for quick reproduction.

"Can you just capture the dew on the first day and then stick it in a cupboard?" I asked.

He frowned. "I'm not sure."

I pulled out a notebook, making a note.

"What have you got there?" he asked.

"What do you know about the experimental method?" I asked.

His expression of incomprehension told me exactly how much he knew.

"I'll need to find something else that uses this ingredient," I said. "Because this whole mandrake business seems a little arduous to risk on an untested method. If it works, it makes things a little easier. How did you solve it?"

"Houseplant," Sirius said. "We put it under glass in James' basement. It killed the plant, but it worked."

I made another note.

"Once you've got the potion, you've got to wait for an electrical storm," Sirius said. "So you can take the potion. Until then you have to recite an incantation every sunrise and sunset."

"OK," I said. "So we'll have people watching the weather reports on television, and we'll just go to where the storms are."

He stared at me.

"The muggles keep track of the weather and tell everyone when it's likely to happen," I said. "They've got cameras in the sky that watch for storms and report on it."

He stared at me.

"Cameras in the sky?"

"In space," I said. "They send pictures back and people can tell which way storms are going."

I wasn't clear on when the news had started showing the weather, but I was certain they did by the nineties; I'd seen a weather report in France last summer with Hermione.

Sirius was a pureblood; I doubted that he'd ever even looked at a television, much less watched the weather.

"Next thing you'll be telling me is that muggles have been to the moon, or that they've found a way to cut bread before you buy it."

Now it was my turn to stare at him. I'd met purebloods who would have been amazed by these very facts, but...

"I know what a weather report is," he said. He grinned. "My best friend's girl was a muggleborn."

Right.

It was probably a bad idea to generalize just because someone was a pureblood. Not all of them were ignorant xenophobes.

"How are you going to get the forecasts from every part of the country?" he asked.

"I've got muggleborn friends everywhere," I said. "And they've got halfblood friends. If I let them know that I need to know when a storm is going to hit, they'll tell me."

"So you want me to teach you and Harry?"

I shook my head.

"How many do you think you could teach at once?"

"What..." he asked. "You want me to teach the entire muggleborn class how to be animagi?"

"Eventually," I said. "I think I want to start with my most trusted twelve."

"Including you and Harry," he asked.

I nodded.

"We'd have to keep this secret," I said. "Likely not do it here, either. The Longbottoms household has strong defenses."

I'd intended to train with the rest of my team over the summer. It was a bit of a risk; I'd investigated the defenses of all of my friends' houses.

In the interest of expediency and saving money, the muggleborn had all gotten standard suites of defenses. It wouldn't be enough to ward off a determined attack, but it would be enough to warn them and allow them to escape via the floo network.

The Longbottoms had invested in upgrading their defenses since my pensieve treatment had returned their family to them. According to Neville, there had been some attempts to breech there security. After each attempt, they'd beefed things up even more, to the point that their home was almost as well protected as money could buy.

If I could get Sirius to sign off of going with me to Neville's house, I'd get out from under Snape's watchful eye and I'd be able to get things done. Neville said he had a garden of magical plants; hopefully he'd have some interesting species of magical bugs to match.

"An entire class of animagi," he said. He stared off into the distance. "Wouldn't that make it... not special anymore?"

"Most of us consider not dying special," I said. "And it's not like you're teaching a class at Hogwarts. You'll be teaching kids who know that having an ace in the hole might make the difference between life and death."

"You don't get to pick your form," he warned. "Some of them might end up as panda bears, or a sloth or a snail of something."

"Even a snail would be useful," I said. "And you can't just quit because something might not be useful. Snails can climb walls and might be small enough to go through mouse holes."

"And get eaten by mice," he said.

"Maybe," I said. "But if you are in a situation where you are desperate enough to go in a mouse hole, you are pretty much already dead anyway."

He frowned, then nodded.

"You can't tell Snape or Dumbledore," I said. "Or any other member of the Order. Some of them might register us."

He grimaced when I said Snape's name. Apparently their relationship was somewhat strained. I hadn't really seen much

"They haven't registered me," he said. He had a thoughtful look. "Still, it would be a huge prank on the Ministry... a dozen unregistered animagi."

"Eventually two hundred," I said.

"You'll never get that many Death's head moths," he said.

I shrugged.

"All things are possible."

Depending on what forms people gained, I might even be able to use it as an infiltration tactic. A dozen beetle animagi might change the tide of a battle very quickly, especially if they were all disillusioned before I entered combat.

"You have big plans," he said. "Asking someone for a favor when you keep turning them into a rock."

"The worst you can do is say no," I said. "In which case I'll just badger you for the rest of the summer."

"Honest little thing, aren't you?"

"It helps to have a reputation for honesty," I said. "That way if I tell you I'm going to gut you with a knife, you believe me."

He stared at me for a moment, his head cocked to the side as though he was trying to decide if I was serious.

A moment later, he shook his head, and then said, "I might as well. Dumbledore and the others don't trust me enough to let me take part in whatever they're involved in. They think that my being in Azkaban for so long has made me a little crazy. Can you believe that?"

I'd heard him muttering to himself too often to completely dismiss the idea. However, if I could learn a useful skill from a crazy person, I was more than willing to try.

He laughed, and the sound of his laughter was a little strained. Years of having dementors eating away at his soul couldn't have been good got him.

"I suspect they think I'm crazier than you," I said. "so you're in good company."

He'd probably been sustaining himself solely on hatred for years; now his life was different and he didn't have a purpose. He'd have likely thrown himself at the Death Eaters with a vengeance, but Dumbledore and Snape didn't trust him.

He'd have been happy to be a godfather to Harry, but Harry was too alien now. I'd infected him with responsibility, and it would take time for them to get acquainted.

He needed a purpose now.

"Have you thought about what this will mean for the muggleborn?" I asked. "It'll save some of their lives. It might give them a chance to fight back. Death eaters might die."

His head snapped up and he stared at me.

"Every time a muggleborn kills a Death Eater because of something you taught them, it'll be like you did it yourself. Besides, wouldn't Lily have wanted you to protect Harry's friends?"

"You're trying to manipulate me," he said. His grip tightened on his cup. "But it's not like I've got anything better to do."

"It'll force Harry to spend time with you," I said. "And who knows what will happen? You'll be able to shape the minds of an entire generation of Hogwarts students... won't that be the greatest prank in history?"

"Might teach them a trick or two," he said.

He was twelve years out of practice; I doubted he was even up to our standards. It was possible that he knew things we didn't, though, and I wasn't going to turn away anyone.

Besides, getting more adults on our side would only be useful.

"I won't start with twelve, though," he said. "It's too many. There's parts of the whole thing that are dangerous."

"How many, then?"

"Six," he said. "Four would be better."

"Six it is, then."

Me, Harry, Hermione, Neville since he'd be hosting. I doubted that Ron would want to go through the arduous process involved; his eating habits alone would have him swallowing his leaf, and he tended to become nasty when he was irritable.

I'd have to go with one of the graduated seniors and a sixth year.

"It won't be easy," he warned me. "There will be times when you want to spit that leaf out and give up. Most people do."

"My people aren't most people," I said. "And I'll make sure that if they spit the leaf out, they'll lose some teeth with it. They can regrow teeth, right?"

"Maybe this'll be entertaining, at least," he said.

"The most dangerous part will be when we drink the potion," I said. "The Death eaters have a precog... a seer, and they may come for us."

He perked up at that.

"So we could set a trap if we wanted."

"We wouldn't have a lot of time," I said. "Considering that we'd have to be watching the weather reports."

"We've got the summer," he said.

"That's true," I said. "And it's not like Dumbledore or Remus are planning to include us, so we might as well make our own fun."

In the distance I heard the sound of Kreacher cackling along with the sound of squealing.

"What did you do to my house elf?" he asked.

"Gave him a purpose," I said. "Turned him into the Death of Rats. I've got bigger plans for everyone else."

"What are those?" he asked cautiously.

"The Dark Lord... what do you think his name means?"

"French, isn't it?" he frowned. "Flight from Death?"

"Something like that," I said. "And I want the people who work for me to become death. I want the muggleborn to become exactly the thing he claimed that they were... the ones who will replace him and his kind."

"That's ambitious," he said. He carefully set his cup down. "Especially for a second year."

"Almost third," I said. "And frankly, the current dark lord was an underachiever. I've already accomplished more in my first couple of years of school than he did in six."

My organization was certainly bigger than his had been.

"All right," he said. "What do we need to do?"

"I'll need to contact my friends," I said. "And then we'll need to get some ingredients together. I'm going to need an exact list, including the stuff you left out. No point in getting everyone exited if we can't get components for everyone."

He nodded.

"And then we'll see what kind of inner animal we all have."