AN: I kind of skipped out on most of the Quidditch scene, since it stays the same. We're super close to reaching 1,500 followers, you guys! Third year's drawing to a close, and you'll be noticing some pretty big changes to the original storyline. Thanks to reviewers: Poetheather1, Narcissa-Weasly, Alililas, LadyKnightofCelestia, ILoveGeorgeEads, Kairan1979, Lady Sabine of Macayhill, Majerus, Jmw, Ari989, Tellur, magitech, ReadPaxJoy, MuggleCreator, Fibinaci, MariusDarkwolf, serialkeller, ultima-owner, Venquine1990, and mworth1019.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.

"Maybe you could just say you're sorry," Parvati suggested timidly. She and Lavender sat on the floor as Hermione paced back and forth, Crookshanks cuddled in her arms. "I mean, it doesn't look like he's going to apologize anytime soon, and one of you has got to, right?"

"I've got nothing to apologize for," Hermione snapped. "He has absolutely no proof that Crooks ate Scabbers. He's a cat, of course his fur is going to get everywhere! Besides, it's not as though he even liked that stupid rat in the first place! He was always complaining about how useless Scabbers was."

Privately, Parvati thought that Crookshanks might've eaten Scabbers, but there was no reason for Ron to take out his grief on Hermione. Cats ate rats, and if he really had worried about it so much, then he should've hidden Scabbers so that Crookshanks couldn't get to him. "But Hermione, you do want to be friends with him again, don't you?"

"I'm not sure I want to be friends with someone who's always yelling at me about something that never happened," Hermione said loftily, clutching Crookshanks to her chest. "You know what? I bet Scabbers just died naturally. He was getting far too old, and he constantly off color. I bet that Scabbers died, and Ron found his body and framed Crookshanks, just because he doesn't like him. Well, it's not going to work, is it, Crooks?"

The cat purred loudly and rubbed his face against her sweater.

"In fact," Hermione began, her eyes lighting up, "I'll go tell him so right now. Where is he?"

"No!" Lavender and Parvati shouted together.

"Er, it's probably best if you give him some time to get over Scabbers first." Parvati stood and patted Hermione on the arm. "Really, he doesn't know what he's saying right now. He's just upset."

"Yeah," Lavender chimed in. "When Binky died, I was an absolute mess. I didn't even do anything with my hair the day after I got the letter about him. He just needs a little time to cool off. Harry's letting him ride his Firebolt right now, I'm sure that'll cheer him up."

Hermione humphed loudly and sat on her bed, stroking Crookshanks. "Well…if he's still saying that nonsense about Crookshanks in a few weeks, I'll have to tell him that I'm not going to stand for it. He's just being ridiculous!"

Crookshanks, finally getting tired of Hermione's constant attention, jumped out of her arms and padded out of the room. Parvati noted that the cat looked a little too smug, and tried not to think about what would happen if Ron and Hermione didn't make up soon. She squirmed uncomfortably and changed the subject. "You're looking better, Hermione. I'm surprised you're not off studying right now."

"It's my day off," Hermione explained, reaching up to tie her hair back. "I stayed up a little late last night, to finish that Muggle Studies essay, but I slept in this morning."

Parvati's eyes widened. "We had an essay assigned?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, Burbage's going to assign it this week."

Lavender sighed loudly. "Really, Hermione, why do you always have to be so far ahead?"

"It makes it easier at the end of the year, when I have to study for exams, if I don't have any homework to do," She said, picking up a book and stacking it on top of a pile. "We should go watch Quidditch practice!"

Lavender stood as well, looking doubtful. "Hermione, I don't think that's a good idea. Ron's still down there, remember?"

Hermione tilted her chin upwards. "He'll have to get used to seeing me. I refuse to hide away so that he can feel better about his lies."

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry's fingers grasped the snitch, and he halted his broom immediately, feeling breathless and happy. The Gryffindor team had won. He had done it! They were back in the running for the Quidditch Cup, and it was all thanks to Harry's Firebolt. Definitely the best broom he had ever seen, and it had even managed to pull Ron out of his sadness for an hour or so.

As soon as he touched the ground, Gryffindors swarmed him on all sides. No one was happier than Oliver, who couldn't stop saying "We won!" Harry was being hugged by everyone, and congratulated multiple times on his Patronus. Harry realized that he hadn't even had to think about what his happy memory would be. His friends had burst to his mind instantly, and the words shot out of his mouth before he could even think about them. He had done it though, and the dementors hadn't gotten to him at all!

"Wonderful Patronus, Harry!" Professor Lupin complimented. Professor Burbage hugged Harry tightly and beamed at him. Harry struggled not to smirk as he realized they held hands. They were looking at him with a sort of pride, and he nearly blushed.

"They didn't affect me at all, Professor," He told him eagerly.

Burbage and Lupin now seemed to be smiling for a different reason. "They weren't—well, they weren't exactly dementors, Harry."

"What?" Harry turned and made his way to the edge of the crowd. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, tangled up in heavy black robes, scowled as McGonagall berated them. Harry laughed loudly, as did all the Gryffindors behind him. Oliver hoped fervently that McGonagall would strip Flint of his position as Quidditch Captain.

"Party in the Gryffindor Common Room!" The twins shouted loudly, leading the way back to the castle. Harry followed after, but just before he reached the door, Hedwig swooped in and gave him a letter. He grinned at her and ripped open the letter.

"Is that from Dumbledore?" Dean asked quietly, glancing around.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, scanning the letter quickly.

Dear Harry,

I'm glad to hear that everything at Hogwarts is coming along so splendidly. I'm afraid I have fallen out of contact with Headmistress McGonagall as of late. I, of all people, know how taxing the position can be, and I've taken great care not to pester her any further. I must admit, it was quite surprising to receive this letter from you. Make no mistake; I'm flattered that you've made time for an old man.

Hagrid's problem is, indeed, very troubling. I recall him being very attached to his friends. You are correct in assuming that I hold much influence in the Ministry of Magic. However, the Committee for the Disposal of Magical Creatures is notoriously difficult to persuade. Nonetheless, I shall do my best to clear Buckbeak of all charges.

Harry, I do hope that I may ask to speak with you more frequently. Indulge me, please. I rarely get to hear of the castle, and I must confess that I find myself missing Hogwarts a great deal. She was, and still is, a second home to all who walk her halls.

A.P.W.B. Dumbledore

Harry frowned. It wasn't exactly the solution he had been hoping for, but it would have to do for now. Dumbledore was their best chance, after all, no matter how sketchy his motives might be. Harry wasn't above begging if it would help a friend. Somewhat worrisome, however, was Dumbledore's request to continue writing back and forth. The one letter Harry had already composed to him had taken nearly an hour, for the pure reason that he hadn't wanted to reveal anything he shouldn't. Harry didn't find Dumbledore particularly threatening, but his friends seemed to, and that was enough for him.

"What'd he say?" Hermione asked, looking afraid of the answer.

Harry shrugged. "He'll try his best. I just wish I could tell Hagrid he doesn't have to worry about it anymore."

"He's already keeping Buckbeak in his hut," Seamus pointed out. "Pretty sure he can't get more worried than that."

While the vast majority of Gryffindor partied in the Common Room, Harry, along with Percy, Cormac, and Katie, went up to the dorms and began another letter. This one was even more tailored, and Harry wondered if it would come across as too manufactured.

"Are you sure this'll work?" He asked, a little skeptical.

Percy nodded. "There isn't really anything that he can use against you. At least, not that I can see. It's not too stiff, either."

"It's pretty formal," Cormac admitted. "But it's short and to the point. Dad taught me how to write a decent letter."

Katie stared at him. "Isn't that sort of common knowledge?"

"Er…" The tips of his ears burned bright red. "A proper, pureblood letter," He amended, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh." Katie flushed. "Right. I forgot about that."

A tense silence fell over the four, broken only by the sound of Harry's quill scratching out a few words here and there. He struggled not to show his unhappiness with the situation. Dumbledore had never been anything but supportive of Harry, and betraying him like this made him feel slimy. But, then again, he wasn't truly betraying Dumbledore. He was just…being cautious. Dumbledore certainly had the ability to be sneaky, but it didn't feel right to deceive him.

"We should get back to the party," He murmured finally. There was no use in continuing that train of thought, he decided. What was done was done. He couldn't take it all back now, and doing this would be worth it, if it helped Hagrid and Buckbeak.

"Harry, are you sure you're alright?" Katie spoke up timidly. "I thought you'd be happier. We won, and you cast a Patronus…" She trailed off, studying the ground intently.

Harry shrugged and made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. "I dunno. I'm just kind of—a little worried about Buckbeak, s'all."

The other three nodded, accepting his lie with thinly veiled suspicion. They trudged down the stairs, with Harry staying upstairs and glancing over the letter again. Perhaps they were right, believing that he shouldn't place so much faith in Dumbledore. Yet, he couldn't help but remember his talks with the man. The Mirror of Erised, the Hospital Wing, the few moments before Dumbledore had left Hogwarts for good. Could this same person truly be so manipulative, so selfish? Harry didn't think so.

He sighed, letting his head fall onto the desk. Harry had come no closer to understanding him than he had over two years earlier, when he had asked Dumbledore what he saw in the Mirror. Harry hadn't thought about his (surely false) answer since that night, but he found himself aching to know now. Who, exactly, was Albus Dumbledore? Harry wondered if it might be better if he never knew.

Dear Sir,

I understand that you're very busy with the Wizengamot and the ICW, and I'd like to thank you for taking time out of your schedule to reply to my letter. The Gryffindor Quidditch team just won our match against Ravenclaw, so we're back in the running for the Quidditch Cup. Not much else has changed since my last letter. My new Firebolt flies great, although I still have no idea who bought it for me.

Again, thank you for helping Hagrid. I really appreciate it. If I have any news, I'll write you.

Harry Potter

Spiders. There were spiders everywhere. He gave a tiny shiver as one scuttled close to his feet, and he took the opportunity to squash it firmly under his shoe. Another one neared him, bigger than the last, though still somewhat small. He killed that one, too. His breathing began to speed up as the spiders continued to grow in size, until a large, human-sized one popped out at him. It was huge! He'd never seen a spider so big, except for his boggart. Yes, this must be his boggart.

"Riddikulus!" He cried, brandishing his wand threateningly. He couldn't prevent his arm from shaking. A whimper escaped him as he realized that this spider was definitely not a boggart. Its long legs advanced towards him, and he scrambled backwards. He'd hit a tree though, and there was nowhere to run. It was almost upon him, and he could practically hear it speak, a loud slashing noise—

Ron's eyes flung open, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Just a dream. He shut his eyes again, only to snap them open once more. Standing above him, a knife clutched in his hands, was Sirius Black, eyes gleaming with madness and murder.

"AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH! NOOOOO!"

The shadowy figure of Black darted away, startled by his scream. Ron barely registered the sound of the other boys waking up and moving around their curtains. The blood rushing in his ears and the sound of his heart pounding drowned out all other noise. Ron stared as Black raced out of the dorm, slamming the door behind him. Black had been about to kill him, he was sure of it. If he hadn't woken up at that exact moment…Ron shuddered, sitting up as Dean lit his lamp.

"What's going on?" Seamus asked groggily.

"Black! Sirius Black! With a knife!" Ron hardly noticed the slash in his hangings. What use was a bed when he'd come within an inch of losing his life? The others gazed at him incredulously, and his ears burned bright red. He could never dream up Sirius Black trying to kill him, after all. "He was here!" He insisted. "Just have a look at the curtains! Sirius Black was here."

Neville let out a squeak, but he got out of bed with the rest of them as they raced down the stairway. Ron, filled with both dismay and relief, noted that there was no sign of Black in the Common Room. His shouts, however, seemed to have awoken the whole tower, and doors opened. Percy arrived in the Common Room before almost everyone else, fixing his Head Boy badge to his pajamas and looking distinctly ruffled.

"Would everyone please go back upstairs?" He called loudly. "Ron, what is it now?" Percy peered at Ron with an air of exasperation about him, and Ron struggled to hold back the foul comment begging to burst forth.

"Perce, Sirius Black was in our dormitory! He tried to kill me with a knife," Ron pleaded with Percy to believe him, knowing it wasn't going to be easy. Percy didn't believe much that he didn't see with his own eyes.

Professor Burbage walked in, frowning at them all with disapproval. "What on earth is going on? I told you all to go to bed hours ago!" She rarely got cross with them, but this obviously counted as an exception as she stood there, tapping her foot.

Ron started to grow tired with no one listening to what he said. "Sirius Black broke into Gryffindor Tower! He tried to kill me! C'mon, Professor, you have to believe me!"

Burbage had gone very pale, holding a shaking hand up to her mouth. "You—you're certain you saw Black, then? But—how could he possibly have gotten in? The only way would be through the portrait hole!"

"Is Sir Cadogan alright, Professor?" Leann asked worriedly.

"Well, he was fine when I came in, but that doesn't explain…" Burbage trailed off, frowning. She flung the portrait hole open, and the Gryffindors crowded around her anxiously. "Sir Cadogan, did you let in a man a little while ago?"

"I did, milady. Looked a little rough around the edges, but he had the password." Cadogan shrugged, as if letting in a mass murderer was equivalent to a rainy day when one's planned to go to the park.

"The password?" Burbage echoed. "How did he get the password?"

"Well, he had a whole list of 'em, see. Thought it was mighty odd that he carried 'em around like that, but he had the password," Cadogan said again.

Burbage took a deep breath, turning to the Gryffindors and smiling tightly. "If I may ask, which one of you wrote down the passwords on a piece of paper?"

Ron fought not to look at Neville. Everyone knew he had problems with remembering things, and they tried not to hold it against him. At the time, everyone had thought that Neville keeping a list would help him, because he wouldn't get locked out of the Common Room anymore. No one had considered what might happen if he lost the list. Neville, however, gave himself away with a terrified whimper.

Burbage's shoulders slumped. "Oh, Neville," She sighed, sitting on a lumpy red couch. "I suppose it's no use telling you to go back to sleep, is it? Sir Cadogan, could you please inform the Headmistress that Black is somewhere in the castle? I need to stay with the Gryffindors for now. Everyone, please stay in the Common Room. It should be safer that way."

Ron trudged back over to his friends. He felt exhausted, but he wouldn't be able to fall asleep now. He couldn't close his eyes for a second without the image of Black, knife in hand, hovering over him. Perhaps what scared him most was the fact that Black hadn't even looked particularly angry about committing murder. The cold, dispassionate expression on his face chilled Ron to the bone.

"…probably trying to get to you," Seamus told Harry. "Reckon he got Ron's bed by mistake."

"It's lucky you woke up in time," Dean muttered to Ron. "Otherwise, he probably would've gone through you and the rest of us in order to get to Harry."

"He wasn't exactly being quiet about it, was he?" Ron pointed out. "I only woke up because of the slashing noise when he ripped the curtains with his knife. If he didn't want to get caught, why not be sneakier?"

"Maybe he didn't care," Lee suggested. "Dementors would be enough to drive anyone mad, right? Bet he didn't even think about getting away."

"What if he wasn't planning on getting away?" Harry mentioned, staring blankly at the wall. "What if he was just planning on offing me and then getting carted back to Azkaban? He'd have gotten what he wanted then. He'd have killed all the Potters."

Alicia's face turned a peculiar shade of green, and she leaned into Fred's side, shaking her head slowly. "We shouldn't be thinking about that. We're lucky no one got hurt."

Neville squeaked loudly, pushing himself up against the wall. He tried to make himself as small as possible. "I'm sorry. I really am," He insisted, gazing at them remorsefully. "I didn't mean—I didn't think that…"

"It's okay, Neville," Katie comforted him. Ron really didn't think it was okay—Black had nearly killed him—but no one wanted to get angry at Neville when he already beat himself up over it. "You couldn't have known that Black would've found the passwords."

"Look!" Oliver pointed across the room. "It's Professor Lupin!"

Sure enough, Lupin, wearing a shabby pair of pajamas and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, stumbled into the Common Room and collapsed on the chair next to Burbage. Despite his worn face, he appeared wide awake, eyes darting around the room at the frightened teenagers covering the floor. Ron barely held back from grinning as he realized that Burbage must've asked him to come help her watch the Gryffindors.

Harry stood up almost immediately, crossing the room to meet Lupin in just a few strides. The others quickly scrambled to catch up with him. Lupin blinked at them, trading a bemused glance with Charity. "Is everything alright? Well, besides the obvious, of course." He let out a tired laugh, yawning.

"Professor Lupin, do you have any idea how Black got in the castle?" Harry asked urgently.

Lupin blinked again, leaning back. "Ah…no, I don't think so. All of the secret passageways are sealed. The only thing I can think of would be a disguise strong enough to fool the dementors." Lupin rubbed the back of his neck, watching them with a steady gaze. He appeared to be trying to communicate a message to them, but Ron couldn't make out whatever it was.

Hermione scowled. "What sort of disguise could help him get past a dementor? A glamour charm wouldn't be enough, they should've still been able to detect him. He must know something we don't, some way of getting in the castle."

"Just because you haven't heard of it doesn't mean it doesn't exist," Ron shot at her. He was so sick of her pretending she knew everything! All her talk of how Crookshanks couldn't possibly have killed Scabbers—Ron scoffed. Clearly, she just didn't want to face facts. "Black's a powerful wizard. He could've found some other way to sneak past them. He's smart, Hermione, he probably knows all sorts of magic that you don't."

"Ron, that's enough," Charity cut in softly. "Everyone's a bit on edge right now. Let's just try and stay calm. It's no use trying to sleep again, but please stay quiet. The castle's being searched as we speak. Black's most likely long gone by now anyway. It's nothing for any of you to get tangled up in—you're all still students. Black will be caught eventually."

"Are you sure?" Harry studied her closely, shoulders tense.

Charity paused, grasping Remus' hand and smiling sadly at them. "We'll keep you safe. I promise."