Tom was, quite simply, bored. He had pictured getting out of the diary to be a great occasion, after which he would defeat Dumbledore and chase all the muggleborns and any others unworthy of attending Hogwarts out of the near sacred castle. As things had happened, he'd hardly left the chamber.

He was, safe to say, a bit frustrated. So he'd taken to teaching the werewolf wandless spells. And the werewolf was coming along quite decently. Nowhere near Tom's own level, but he was somewhat competent. He could cast lumos, and nox so far, that being all, but it was still good. Even more, though, he'd started to try learning to sing spells. He'd gotten some information and demonstrations from the half pixie, but it was little, so he'd had to make some up. Apparently, the magic was in the words, not the magician, for this specific branch of magic, making it unlike what he had practiced before. Wizards only had the ability to access the magic. The reason the words were magical was simple: they had been used so often in that particular order, that they had picked up bits of intent and imagination along the way. Similar to how one might imagine a girl running and dancing in the snow, surrounded by white wolves when they sang what the half pixie called "Running with the Wolves," the spell caused a slight chill and ghostly canines to appear, pacing on the ground, around the caster when sang correctly. The lullaby "Twinkly Twinkle Little Star" was the same, and summoned a bright light from the sky to the caster. Certain phrases, too, picked up meaning along the way. Stand your ground literally made you stand your ground; you could not move. He'd used it several times already, on the vampire.

But he was still bored. So he perked up considerably when Elizabetha burst into the Chamber, dragging Ginny behind her. Others followed her, all of whom he recognized from that strange meeting in the Slytherin girl's bedroom, where he had met what was apparently his future nemesis. The blond boy, definitely a Malfoy, carrying with some disdain a platter of sandwiches. The Ravenclaw girl with silver eyes, a bowl of punch floating behind her and a basket of little cakes in her hands. The dark-skinned boy, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Maura Zabini, with a pair of chairs. And the two siblings, whose names he had forgotten, the boy also carrying chairs and the girl two bowls of what looked like salads. Then came more floating bowls, filled with various contents varying from strawberries to half raw meat. The werewolf, who had previously been trying to cast avis, perked up considerably as soon as the scents hit his nose.

"What's this?" Tome asked as the werewolf rushed past, going to sniff happily at the bowl of meat.

"A feast! Our Gin just got into Slytherin! And since I have this feeling the plot will all go downhill from here, I thought we should throw a party while we're all still alive! Because, I mean, who knows what'll happen? We could somehow end up at a beach, or something, for no real reason other then going through the motions of these things, and instead of bonding one of us would drown! Or maybe we'd end up at a festival and one of us would be touched by a human and turn into blue sparkles! Or one of us could lose a leg and fall into lava and then be reborn with a fetish for black things and choking and an inability to breath normally! You never know these things, Tom!"

"Or, in translation," Peter broke in before Elizabetha could make more references. "Ginny was resorted into Slytherin, and Elizabetha wants to make sure we have nice memories to look back on before it all goes to hell like Pokemon in the third season."

"...Okay..." Tom decided, and joined them, still confused but unwilling to ask again.

"As I always say," Luna declared as they started to eat. "If you can't lead them with logic, baffle them with *Bleep*."

xXx

Sirius moaned, and halfheartedly banged his furry head against the bars.

Lizzy. Lizzy. Lizzy. He thought, looking out the gaps between the iron. It had probably been only days since her last letter, but it felt like months, even years. And he'd barely seen the letter, all he knew was that she was fine, and that she'd made some friends, and that she'd turned Minerva's hat into a chicken. Befitting of my heir. A natural marauder, even if not connected by blood. Lizzy. Lizzy. He continued, sitting down on his haunches and pushing his black nose through the bars. Even with that information, that the little blond terror was fine, he still missed talking to her. He'd been looking forward to her going to Hogwarts, and had told her at least a hundred stories of his own time there. He'd been so looking forward to her feeling the magic of that ancient place. So much he'd forgotten to think of how much he'd miss her. Lizzy. Lizzy. Lizzy. The rest of his head followed.

Then Nettle had left and taken Jacob and the vampire with her. He'd wanted to go, but decided that fewer people meant less chance of being caught. Lizzy. His neck slid through, and he whined when his shoulders hit the bars.

Then again, the dementors had just told the three that escaped to tell Elizabetha hello for them, so he probably could have gone too. Oh well. To late to regret. Lizzy. Lizzy. Lizzy. He leaned forward a bit more, jamming first one then the other skinny shoulder through and whining again.

He really did miss the girl. And he wasn't the only one. The dementors seemed grouchier, and sad. Madam Barthahew could no longer be heard shrieking every night. And on the last two full moons, the howls from the werewolves sounded less ferocious and more lonely. Bellatrix no longer screamed out of the windows. Even Alfred had become silent. It was like they no longer had a reason to scream and shout. Lizzy. Lizzy. Lizzy. His ribs rubbed past the bars and he could have sworn they were cracking.

Was Elizabetha the reason they shouted? He couldn't remember when he'd first been thrown into Azkaban, whether it was this quiet or not. He, at least, had screamed. He'd been upset, saddened by the death of his best friends and furious at both Peter and himself for letting this happen in the first place. And he'd just wanted out. Out of this dark, dank place where there were only waking nightmares and his own tortured mind. Then, four years that felt like four ages later, a little girl had toddled past his cell. And he'd been so startled he'd jumped about a foot in the air. After all, what was a little girl with a chubby face and angelic curls doing wondering around Azkaban, of all places? Yet she kept coming by. for years. He learned her name, learned her past, learned how to make her smile. She'd become like a daughter to him. Lizzy. Lizzy. His stomach slipped through easily, but then his hind quarters caught.

His little daughter was gone. His little pup. Lizzy. Lizzy. Lizzy. He jerked forward, and he practically popped through, stumbling into the empty corridor.

I should find the pup. Lizzy. He started off down the corridor.

xXx

I don't know why, but my usual little line thing that I use to separate different sections is no longer working, so I'm going to start using these three little xXXs until I can figure it out. The kittens probably messed it up somehow while climbing on the desk. If anyone cares, the kittens have taken to sitting here while I write. Or, in Bella's case sitting here, and in Avaati's case climbing on my head and trying to eat my hair.

A recent review: Hello! First, I would like to thank you for writing this fic :) It's awesome, and it makes me laugh so much it hurts my abs xD Elizabetha is really amazing, though I'm not sure about what you wrote about her being "past saving". I mean, I'm not sure about the reason behind that. Still, I'm looking forward to read the next chapter :)

Well, I'm glad you like my story! I honestly didn't know it was that funny when I first started writing it, but now everyone seems to love it, so that's nice. Nice to know at least part of it was funny and happy. Because I'm not kidding when I say it's going downhill soon. Someone is going to die, and you people are going to be soooooo pissed about it! As far as the "past saving" well that was basically my way of saying that Elizabetha knows she'd insane. She knows she's not normal, and never will be. She used to think that someone would come for her and take her away from all the death and darkness. Because while Elizabetha was raised in Azkaban, she was not fond of the dark, and I don't think anyone truly gets used to death, no matter how much they see it. Yet no one came, so she solved the issue herself. She found comfort in that very same dark and flirted with death until she understood every aspect of it. She started finding reason in the confusion, even though that same reason isn't strictly logical. Thus, she went insane. She saved herself, and is now past saving. And as for the next chapter, well, here! Have this one! Enjoy the references!

Thank you for reading, please review and feel free to request anything, I can still fit something in. Byeeeee!