Third year passed in a blur of jokes, days in which I'd write reports during class, nights spent prancing with the Weasly twins, and meals with the Slytherins. Fake dating Draco was the funniest "game" I'd ever come up with. Between the romantic dates at Hogsmead, and how furious Harry seamed to get when he saw us together (he was like some jealous ex-boyfriend with the lengths he'd go to just to break us up), I couldn't find a reason to break up with him.
Being the only non-British Journalist reporting on the Tri-Wizard Tournament was a plus. Some of my articles were internationally known, and some had apparently reached the hands of Victor Krum.
"YOU!" he shouted one morning in the Great Hall one morning as I sipped from my coffee mug, grumpy as a hung over bitch and still only half awake (Shawn's ability to be perky in the morning still not having worn off on me).
I turned to him tiredly, raising one eyebrow, before putting the back of my hand to my mouth as I yawned. "What?" I sighed, putting my coffee cup to my lips once more and sipping.
"I vant you to interview me. And not publish lies like that other reporter. So my country men can here what is really happening," he told me, pushing Blaise (who'd been sitting next to me) aside and sat down. "So my mother proud."
"Honey, I write for global newspapers, not the tabloids. The people don't need to here some stupid made up shmut sorry when they read the news in the morning. They want the truth. Not the lies that whore is feeding them. Lies don't protect them. They don't keep the people aware of what's going on in the world. That's not what they need. They need to know what is going on so if something happens, they can protect themselves and their families." I hissed. "So why lie to them? I'll interview, and it'll be one good enough to send home to mommy."
I went back to drinking my coffee after that.
Fleur found out from a friend who had a mutual friendship with one friend of Krum's that I'd done an interview with Krum and published it in some major Bulgarian inquirer that actually consisted of whole truths and absolutely no fiction. She requested an interview that I published in the major French newspaper (via a connection of my own). Word spread well enough after that to get all the way to Cedric and Hermione. Luna got any and all of my reports and interviews published in her fathers magazine. And of course, I gave all my reports and interviews to international newspapers.
I went to the Yule Ball with George, though. That proved entertaining. We spiked the punch bowl with Muggle booze and he, Fred and I sat back and watched the others get drunk off their asses on an alcohol their bodies weren't used to the strength of, our never emptying cups (an invention of my own) keeping us sober. To say it was a laugh would be the understatement of the century. My memory of it was immediately copied and put in my pensive for later use.
On the side of all the reports and dating and prancing we were doing, Shawn and I worked towards becoming anamgi, an idea Sirius had planted in my head during the summer, between my dates with Reid, time spent with the boys, reading for the coming school year, and the late nights spent gambling or game playing that he'd been invited to join in (leaving Caleb the only person in the house who knowingly didn't join). By the third task I'd mastered my form of some Pit-bull/Doberman/Rottweiler cross. Shawn was a black cat with white paws, belly, mouth, and tip of her tail. Seb had eventually joined in, turning into a water snake.
Being a dog was fun. People love dogs, want to pet them, feed them, and play with them. Sneaking around, though, was hard considering my size. And I started having the urge to chase things I normally wouldn't. And I began thinking about sneaking doggy bacon treats for snacks. (They actually aren't that bad)
I could hear and smell better, too.
The most epic part of the year came right before we were supposed to come home: The dramatic break-up to my "relationship" with Draco.
"How dare you!" I shrieked. Then pointing an accusing finger at Shawn and Draco… "How dare you both!"
"Adrian!" Draco shouted back, the eyes of everyone in the Great Hall on us.
"OH, don't you dare yell at me, ferret boy." Weather it'd being an imposer acting as Moody or not, that joke would live on well into our adult years. It had become some type of legion throughout the year. "You cheated on me, remember. And with my best friend no less!"
We were all struggling to control our masked facades so we wouldn't ruin the dramatics by laughing, though Blaise, Theo, Crabbe, Goyle, and Seb were snorting and chucking under their breaths.
"How could you?" I sounded dejected at this point, forced tears starting to roll softly down my cheeks.
"Adrian, I can—" Draco started coming closer. Knowing none of us could hold it in much longer, I moved away from him, closer to the door.
"No, Draco. No you can't. I never want to see your face again." I turned walking to the door of the Great Hall. Then, turning, I looked at him. "Goodbye Draco. Shawn. We're through. I'm done with the two of you."
My voice cracked over the last part as I tried to hold in my laughter, though everyone else probably thought it was out of misery.
"Adrian, wait!" Shawn cried running towards me as I slipped between the doors.
Once we were far enough away, we erupted into a fit of laughter.
My summer was spent between home and the Order's headquarters. Most the Weaslys didn't like me. Or should I say Ron, Ginny, and the parents didn't like me. Bill thought I was hilarious and love my take on global news. Charlie enjoyed trying to find something to do that might scare me (since dragons, horror, and Snape wouldn't do the job), and would take back multiple copies of some if the most truthful newspapers I provided from all over the world back with him to Romania. And of course the twins fought over (jokingly) which of them would marry me.
After having compared British Wizarding news with American's news, Sirius expects me to bring a fresh paper every visit. And of course, he wanted anything new I'd written. I ended up bringing him a laptop and introducing him to the wonders of blogging, YouTube, and online gaming.
At home it was much the same as the summer before: Dates with Reid, and late nights betting and gambling and daring with friends. Sometimes, I'd drag one of my boys with me to go see Sirius.
Then Harry arrived one day when I'd brought Reid with me. I'd never seen someone mistake Reid for Draco before.
Harry was yelling at Ron and Hermione about not telling him about this place, and Reid was playing his new favorite game of "Guess Adrian's underwear in 20 questions, Garwin style", something he'd come up with after snooping around in my room one day while I was in the shower.
"Cotton?"
"Yes," I sighed.
"Are they lacy?" he asked, smirking as he thought something over.
"No."
His face fell for a moment, obviously disappointed that what ever he'd been thinking of was wrong.
"Are there buttons?"
"Yep."
"Boy shorts?"
I snorted, rolling my eyes, "of course your hinASS."
"Ah, ah, ah. Short answers only." I laughed. "Blue?"
"No."
"Purple?"
"Yes."
"Print?"
"Yes."
"Green print?" he asked smiling widely.
"Yes," I sighed. His grin grew.
"Spirals?"
"Nope."
"Pokka-dot?"
"No."
"A cute panda with Kiss my sass written in silver sharpie on the ass?"
"What do you think?"
"I think I like your underwear," he teased, pulling to him so that I was straddling him. "And I liked it even more this morning when you were walking around with out your pants on."
"Cheater," I hissed as his lips pressed against mine.
"You still love me." He kissed me some more.
"I wouldn't go as far as love," I smirked, teasing him
"Nu-uh, you loooovvvee me," he mumbled in between kissing me.
"And I was actually beginning to think you'd grown out of being a dumb blond," I told him, kissing him passionately. "Guess I was wrong…"
"AND WHY THE HELL IS MALFOY HERE?"
Reid and I turned to see a very red faced Harry glaring at us. Then Reid turned back to me, smirking.
"So who's this Malfoy he's talking about and were are they?"
I laughed, hitting him in the chest. "Perv."
Reid and I went on nightly dates that summer, sometimes going to see movies, Nicky's or whatever restraunt one of us (mostly me) had a craving for. A couple of times we swam in the pool at night or went to a drive-in with his mother and one of her many Ken Dolls.
It was one hell of a summer.
And then it came time to go back to school.
My fourth year was frustrating. One month in and I knew all about Umber-Toad's detention's and was writing a book of interview's from her victims that I planed to publish at the end of the year (that way she couldn't kill me). And then, one month in, I opened my damn mouth and spoke back.
"Did you know that statistics show that women who were improperly taught DADA or should I say simply read it from a book without ever actually doing are much likely to be a victim in a violent crime and more likely to end up more heavily beaten or worse dead, than someone who was taught DADA by trial and error learning. And that by having us learn by purely doing, you are 100% responsible for any one of us females who becomes a victim to a mugging, rape, relationship abuse, or murder," I said standing up. "Studies also show that in this last month alone, Hogwarts has dropped from 5th best DADA program in the world, to the absolute worst program you can put your child in. And that next year, first years will be basically non-existence with multiple of the students you already see here being transferred, all because you are fueling their parents worst fears that their child will not get an adequate enough education to know how to defend themselves?"
"Miss—"
"Danvers. Adrian Danvers. My father is one of the most well known lawyers for wizards and muggles. My family name in it's self is one of the most powerful in the entire wizarding world. My mother is Evelyn Black-Danvers, I'm sure you know her considering you were in here year. And if you think I'll stand to be taught in some lame ass manor, you, Deloris, are sorely mistaken."
"Detention!" she screamed as I started packing my things.
"You have no right to order me around, you petty pink toad that you are. Every wizarding school brings something to the table, something to brag about, when it comes to their DADA programs. Some teach the Dark Arts, some hold the title of having one of the top self-defense programs, and others simply have the top curriculum. Because of you, a school in which the headmaster is know for how he defeated one of the darkest wizards of the last era and leading the fight against another, holds nothing of which is dignified enough to brag about except for some dead beat teacher who is only skilled in some if the darkest forms of torcher and is, by no means, qualified enough to even be teaching. You give me a detention, and I'll take this to my type of court. American court, in which you will face a jury of your peer's, of teachers, and I will take every eyewitness, victim and photographs of such treatment onto the stand and you will be sentenced. Don't you dare even try giving me a detention again."
I grabbed my things, walking out of the class before turning around.
"Oh and word of the wise, next time you decide the throw words like detention around, cheek first to see if they in anyway affiliated with global news before you do. And make sure they're not one of the smartest people at Hogwarts, either," I smirked. "Adrian Danvers, globally renown reporter. I bid you ado."
The rest of the year was a lot of me doing homework assignments to have Shawn turn them in, and only showing up on test days. The rest of the time, I was traveling, seeing the sights. Dumbledore let me, since I spread the word of the order while I did so, and met with some of the top government officials while I did so.
I, also, joined Dumbledore's army, so to keep up with my DADA studies. The twins had gotten me to go with, and the look if shock on Harry's face when he saw me there instantly made it worth it.
I did my first report on Harry Potter shortly after. "The Life of the Boy Who Just Won't Die" and "What Really Happened At The Third Task" was two of the reports that came from me finally talking to my brother.
I also started blogging. I had a blog about the big things: politics, violence, news, and the sort. I had another blog for personal stuff: the things I saw, things I did, and things that blew my mind. It was like a journal to just keep people posted with.
I was enjoying something for the first time ever. And people wanted to read something that wasn't just what's happening in the news. I was telling them about the petty crimes, violent acts, or murders that never made it to the big time news. I was putting emotions in it, telling my side of things in it instead of some emotionless blah that came from someone else's. Rumors, word of the mouth, people's thoughts. I was finally putting to words what the people where felling and not just what was going on. And I was enjoying doing so.
And then the battle of the Department of Ministry's happened and I was being flown back home to burry Sirius in a bodiless grave next to my father's empty casket.
Earlier in the week, I'd broken I don't know how many rules, and grabbed Harry so he could be here, too, to bury what remained of his godfather.
My mother was an emotional wreck. She had already lost one brother, and, basically, lost her husband, and now she was burring the memory of her other brother. I'd hidden all drugs and alcohol in the house, but she always seemed to find more to drowned her self into oblivion in. I don't how Caleb will be able to do it next year. Alone.
We stood in front of the hole in the ground: Reid, Tyler, and I. Reid's arms were around me, holding my back to his chest as he whispered soft, sweet nothing in my ear. Tyler stood close, with my mother and Caleb farther back, and Harry on my other side. Everyone else was far enough away for me to be able to see in my peripheral vision.
I knew Remus was here, too. But I wasn't sure about anyone else in the Order.
Tears were in the eyes of many as the Speaker or Pastor or whatever he was said his words. Tears fell quickly from my right eye, my left producing them at a slower pace. They'd been red and puffy since I found out the fate Sirius had been dealt. I held a soft black cloth to my face, not letting anyone see the snot seeping from my nose or let my tears lead paths all the way down my face.
As I looked at the headstone, I knew Reid, Tyler, and my plans to go road tip next week would be sped up to tomorrow. I needed out of here. And I wasn't to sure about going back to Hogwarts.
Sirius Black
Loving Brother
Loyal Friend
Lacking Example
Legendary Prankster
We will miss you, our shaggy dog
It wasn't until later that I'd notice that my Bambi patronus was now a black Grim like dog.