Raylynx's POV

When morning came, I made my way down to the Great Hall and gulped down some cold water. My owl, Artemis, carrying both an envelope and the Daily Prophet, landed at the edge of the table and stuck its leg out. I took both pieces of paper and patted Artemis' head fondly before he flew off to the Owlery.

I looked at the envelope first. It was from Jasper. I pocketed it, still unopened, and then unfurled the newspaper. The headline for the day was:

Sirius Black Sighted in Dufftown!

A Muggle resident, Cheryl Annbourne, reported seeing escaped murderer Sirius Black, on the streets of Dufftown last night. Cheryl told reporters that she had witnessed a tall man with matted hair and in dirty clothing around eleven o'clock last night. Another resident of Dufftown reports that her kitchen knife has been stolen, although her husband was quick to state that his wife often misplaces things, which earned him a rather nasty look from said wife...

I felt someone watching me. When I looked up, I saw Dumbledore gazing at me with a solemn look. Besides him, Snape was speaking quietly. I folded the newspaper back up and quickly took my leave.

But when I got to the top of the staircase, winded, and saw the door to my classroom, I stopped dead. Plastered all over my classroom door were posters scrawled with words like "Insane," "Psychotic," "Delusional," and phrases like "Lock up the Accomplice!"

A thin film of grey fell over my eyes as I stepped forward and lifting my hand, slowly ripped away the posters. I raised my wand and guided them all into the trash bin beside my desk. Then, I sat down at my desk. I found a neat stack of papers on it already, bearing the names of my students this year. I picked up the top paper labeled "Third Years." I scanned the list four times, but I didn't see Harry's name. I sighed, disappointed. My eyes fell onto a small stack of wooden charms beside the stack of paper – charms from Jasper, carved by his uncle at Jasper's request. I felt the envelope still in my cloak, pressed flat against my chest. I reached into my cloak and pulled it out and set it alongside the small pile of charms. My eyes traced Jasper's name on the top corner of the envelope. I closed my eyes and let out a long, low breath.


I had my third years first. I recognized Neville, of course, and Hermione. I also spotted Luna towards the back, and Seamus. I cleared my throat. "Welcome to the Study of Ancient Runes."

"Now, let me begin with a bit of background," I began. "Historically, the runic alphabet is a derivation of the Old Italic scripts of antiquity, with the addition of some innovations. Which variant of the Old Italic branch in particular gave rise to the runes is uncertain. Suggestions include Raetic, Venetic, Etruscan, or Old Latin as candidates. At the time, all of these scripts had the same angular letter shapes suited for epigraphy, which would become characteristic of the runes."

"Does anyone know the names of the best-known runic alphabets?" I asked the class.

Hermione's hand shot straight up, narrowly missing Neville's ear. I nodded at her.

"The three best-known runic alphabets are the Elder Futhark, the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, and the Younger Futhrak. The Younger Futhark then developed further into the Medieval runes and the Dalecarlian runes," she recited smartly.

"Precisely. Five points to Gryffindor," I said.

Hermione beamed.

"Now, the Elder Futhark is the oldest form of the runic alphabets. It was a writing system used by Germanic peoples for Northwest Germanic dialects in the Migration Period, the dates of which are debated among scholars. Interestingly, knowledge of how to read the Elder Futhark was forgotten until 1865, when it was deciphered by Norwegian scholar Sophus Bugge," I explained. "We'll begin by seeking to understand his translation process, which, I hope, will show you how the logic of the Anglo-Saxon Runic alphabet works. In due course, we will turn to other cultures as well, including cultures that have found ways to create Runic Circles."

My voice cracked slightly, tiredly. I cleared my throat and then said, "Please turn to page ten of your textbooks."

At the end of class, Hermione came racing up to me with questions. She showed me her textbook and pointed to little notes she had made indicating her curiosity or confusion. When she left, I began to finally sit back in my chair when I noticed that someone was still in the classroom.

"Neville?" I called softly.

He was fidgeting uncomfortably, but the expression on his face was strangely focused. He was seeming something in front of him, some vision that only he could see, and it was consuming him from the inside out.

"Is something bothering you?" I asked.

Neville seemed to be waging a war in his head over what to say. He approached me, stopping at the other side of my desk. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again before finally saying, "A few days before I started term, Gran took me to St. Mungo's. She reckoned I was old enough to go see them for myself. And by them, I mean my parents."

My eyes flickered up to his face, and my heart sank as I suddenly understood what he was fighting against in his own head.

"I didn't realize- They didn't even recognize me. I thought that maybe there would be something… some spark of- of-" Neville faltered. Then, he tried again to speak. "Gran said… Gran said that they're that way because of the Cruciatus Curse, that my parents were tortured – tortured to madness."

Neville looked up at me, and I could see that his eyes were wet. "Is it true?" he asked me. "Gran said that you were an Auror with my mum and dad and that you would be able to tell me… if what she said was true. Is it?"

There seemed to be a cloud in my throat, choking me, and blocking my ability to speak. But finally, I said, "Yes."

Upon hearing my answer, Neville tried to be strong. He nodded bravely. But a moment later, he ducked his face from view as he struggled with the wave of emotions overtaking him.

"Neville…" I said softly. "I'll tell you something else that's true: Your mum and dad loved you very much."

"But if they loved me so much, then why couldn't they recognize me?" he blurted out. "After all, I'm… I'm their son." Suddenly, his face crumpled.

Leaning forward, I pressed my hands against my eyes. I felt dizzy. I took a deep breath and managed to control myself. When I looked back up, I saw that Neville had his arm across his face. "Sorry," he said, blubbering a little through his tears. "Sorry, Professor."

"No," I said softly. "It's not something you need to be sorry for."

Neville hurriedly wiped his face with his sleeve. "I should get going," he said, sniffling a little. "I'm already late for P-Potions. Professor Snape will have my head."

"Professor Snape will not have anyone's head," I tried to reassure him. "I'll write you a note." I pulled a piece of parchment and dipping my quill in ink, wrote Neville a note explaining to Professor Snape that he had been helping me and should therefore be excused for his lateness.

I handed him his note. For a moment, we looked each other, two red-eyed creatures suffering from lack of sleep and unable to quite conduct ourselves according to reality. "Thanks," Neville said, as he took the note from me. I watched him leave my classroom. The silence in the classroom after he left buzzed with a secret sadness and a deep longing.


I made my way down to the staff room to pour myself some coffee or tea. As I walked out into the hallways, I noticed some students coming up, presumably from the dungeons. They were talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"Can you believe what Snape did? Neville's toad could have died!"

"Hermione saved Neville, I think."

"Yeah, no doubt."

I paused and listened as a few more students walked by. It became increasingly clear to me that Neville had messed up in Potions today and that Snape had decided to "incentivize" him to correct his mistakes by feeding a few drops of his Potion to Neville's toad, Trevor. Luckily, it seemed that Hermione had stepped in to help Neville. But I was fuming. Poor Neville, who was dealing with the trauma of what had happened to Alice and Frank, had just been bullied by Snape.

I started to storm towards the staff room, when two familiar figures stepped out into the hallway in front of me: McGonagall and Flitwick. As I walked behind them, I heard Professor McGonagall grumbling in low undertones, complaining to Flitwick about Trelawney. "Every year, she pulls the same stunt. And this year, she's got it into Potter's head that he's seeing some death omen in his tea leaves."

"Come again?" I butted in.

McGonagall, a bit startled at being overheard, turned around abruptly. But seeing that it was me, she relaxed.

Flitwick chuckled. "Minerva, you want to be careful with what you say."

"It is a ridiculous tradition, Filius, to greet students every year by promising that one of them will die in the near future," McGonagall said. Looking at me beadily, she said, "I'm sure Raylynx will agree."

Feeling as those I would die soon by McGonagall's hand if I refused her, I said promptly, "Sure. Of course."

"But what did she say to Harry?" I asked, as I joined McGonagall and Flitwick and we all resumed our walk towards the staff room.

McGonagall looked displeased with my question. "What she says every year, I suppose – some version of how he will die soon. I believe she claims that she saw something or other in his tea leaves – the Grim or something or other."

I paused. My mind flashed back to a few weeks ago, when Harry had stopped short in front of the book of death omens in Flourish and Blotts because the image on the front cover had been a large black dog – the Grim.

We had reached the staff room, which we expected to be packed, seeing as it was the first day back, professors would be eager to chat and catch up after the summer. However, most of the professors were milling about at the doorway. It seemed as though nobody was actually inside the staffroom.

McGonagall frowned. "What is going on?" she wondered aloud.

When we reached the small group of professors banded outside, McGonagall and Flitwick made their way to the front of the group to try to figure out what was going on.

Tired and just wanting some tea, I hung back and stayed at the tail end of the group. Unfortunately, so was Snape, and in this small group, it took us only a split second to notice each other.

"Tell me, Snape, how would you be able to sleep at night after you killed a child's frog?" I said thinly, and my rhetorical words barely masked my genuine anger.

"Is it my fault that Longbottom saw fit to overload every single ingredient in his potion?" Snape sneered. "He crammed in so many cat spleens and so much leech juice that he turned a Shrinking Solution orange. Orange. Even you, Kingsley, should recognize the sheer scale of mistakes required to commit such an atrocity."

"An atrocity? He messed up a Potion, Snape," I said in disbelief. "That's hardly an atrocity."

"And perhaps it could have been avoided had he not been late to my class, though I doubt any level of instruction could cure the Longbottom boy of his utter ineptitude," Snape said wryly.

"I wrote a note explaining his tardiness," I said curtly. "He was helping me."

"Well, perhaps next time you should consider that you are wasting his time on useless Runes, when he should be learning the highly useful subject of Potions," Snape replied smoothly.

"Says the man who has spent his entire career trying desperately to teach another subject, which, incidentally, you have been rejected for every time," I snarled.

"Speaking of, the utter foolishness of hiring Remus Lupin for Defense Against the Dark Arts undoubtedly came from you," Snape growled, his eyes narrowed into slits.

"And the utter foolishness of resisting that appointment obviously came from you," I hissed.

"Was I wrong?" Snape countered. "Not only is Lupin bound to be in league with Sirius Black, as are you, but Lupin is a danger to everyone here, as he is a werew-"

Before I could even think it though, my hand had shot out and grabbed the collar of Snape's robes.

Professor McGonagall, who had just found out that the reason that the professors weren't going in was because a boggart was floating around, had looked back at the group at that precise moment. She immediately spotted me grabbing Snape by the collar and behind us, she saw a few students pointing towards us. Irritation at the highest level consumed McGonagall. How many times has she warned Raylynx to behave herself? She hurried towards us and tugging my arm away from Snape, she hissed at me, "Control yourself!"

Snape and I were glaring daggers at each other. McGonagall, seeing that she was not going to get through to us by mere words and lamenting the fact that she could no longer punish us by taking points away from Gryffindor and Slytherin, made up her mind to punish us in a different way. "Thank you for volunteering to take care of the boggart for us," she said loudly, clearly announcing her proclamation to the group of professors.

Snape and I both hesitated, though neither of broke our hateful gaze towards the other.

"Well, it only makes sense to have our younger, more sprightly professors to take this one," Flitwick said, with a bright twinkle in his eye that showed that he knew exactly what McGonagall was up to. "And I'm sure our Potions and Ancient Runes Masters would be more than pleased to stretch their wings and do some much-needed wand work."

Grabbing both of our elbows firmly, McGonagall marched us into the staffroom. "Contain it," she said firmly, and shoved us in. I turned around to protest, but she slammed the door shut in my face before shooing away all of the other professors.

When I slowly turned back, resigned, Snape was looking down at me with a silent, cold fury. "If you dare to touch me again, I will not-"

"You will not -what? You won't what?" I pressed him, glaring up at him.

"Be careful, Kingsley," he warned, "lest I kill you before Sirius Black does."

Just then, something whooshed past in the space between us at incredible speed. Snape and I both turned, wands drawn. The boggart, which did not currently have a shape, seemed to have hidden itself in the cupboard under the sink.

"We must force it to assume a form," Snape said.

"And then?" I asked.

Snape's upper lip curled. "You don't know?"

"What?" I muttered. "Are you going to take five points off Gryffindor for my ignorance?"

At that moment, the door to the staffroom opened. Snape and I both looked over our shoulders to see Remus walk in. He seemed to be deep in thought, with his head slightly down and his hand on his face. But upon seeing Snape and me, alone, with our wands drawn, he paused.

"Erm…" he said, unsure of what to make of the situation. "Hello," he said awkwardly, and scratched the back of his head in confusion. "What are you…?"

"There's a boggart lurking under the table," I informed Remus. "McGonagall requested that Snape and I take care of it, and Snape's not being very helpful."

Snape snorted.

"Well…" Remus said uncertainly.

"He knows how to get rid of it. He just won't tell me," I said, sounding like a seven year old tattling.

"Oh, well, that's easy," Remus said. "You just have to force the Boggart to take the shape of what amuses you. The spell is Riddikulus."

Oh, that's right. As Remus told me this, old memories of class entered my mind. I'd done this before, albeit a very long time ago. Professor Seymour had taught me how to deal with boggarts in my fifth year.

"All right," I said. "I can do that. Stand aside, Severus."

"Wait," Remus said suddenly. "Please don't vanish it entirely."

Both Snape and I looked at Remus incredulously.

"What? Do you fancy an exotic pet?" I asked him. "I didn't know you were quite so daredevil."

Remus smiled at me sheepishly. "It's just that I had my first lesson this morning, and it left me thinking that I needed to find ways to give the students more practical demonstrations. I think the boggart will be a good one for my third years to begin with."

"So, what do you suggest?" I said.

Remus thought for a moment and then answered, "We could cabin it into that wardrobe." He pointed to an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces, so that should keep it happy enough."

I nodded.

Snape sighed, annoyed. "Now if you two have finished with your little discussion, perhaps we could move this little party along. I would prefer to get this over with."

"Have you… Have you ever faced a boggart?" Remus asked, a bit hesitantly.

Snape shook his head once. Remus opened his mouth, but Snape ignored him and pointed his wand at the cupboard door under the sink. With a bang, the door flew open. A great fluctuation in the air, like a mini tsunami in the middle of the air appeared before us. It seemed to still ever so slightly, as though to focus on Snape. Then, it transformed.

For a moment, I thought it was a hag – the long, messy black hair seemed to suggest it, but then the figure turned. I gasped. It was a woman, just a normal woman, but her face was horribly bruised, a terrible green-purple color all over, except for the splotchy blue-black of burst veins and old blood. The woman, who had her hands clasped together, opened her hands, and there, in her trembling hands, was a white lily cupped in her hands.

Snape paused, and for a moment, his dark eyes were deeply haunted.

"Confuse it, step forward," Remus said hurriedly, and he began to step forward himself.

But I put my arm out and gently pushing him behind me, I stepped forward myself. I knew what Remus' boggart was most likely to be – the full moon – and I didn't want Snape seeing it. But I was terrified as I stepped forward. I held my breath and held my wand out. The woman turned her face, bruised beyond all recognition, and then her face swallowed itself up and she – no, it, remember this is a boggart, I told myself sternly- transformed before my eyes.

I tried not to give it a chance. I immediately held my wand out and said, "Riddikulus!", but as anyone who has ever fought a boggart knows, saying the incantation in itself doesn't do anything. There has to be a genuine feeling of resistance – preferably amusement, but at least an overpowering of the will. And I didn't have that.

The boggart transformed. It was a corpse, decayed by water. Skin was sagging from its bones and rotting away in some places. It had white eyes, but there was no light in it, no life. Its mouth hung open and a horrible, droning sound came from it. Its body was weighed down by chains all over, chains that screeched as the boggart-Inferi dragged it along the ground. And around the corpse's wasted neck, there was a locket that was hissing loudly. The corpse lifted one grey, decayed arm and reaching for me, stumbled forward.

Forgetting that it wasn't real, that it wasn't a genuine Inferi, that it wasn't the decayed, soul corpse of someone I loved, I raised my wand and shouted, "Incendio!" A powerful blast of fire, created by panic, shot out of my wand, and though it drove the boggart-pseudo-Inferi back, it also decimated half of the cupboard behind it.

Just then, Professors Sprout and Sinistra walked in. They had not come earlier because the Astronomy Tower and Herbology Greenhouses were fairly far from the staffroom. Remus, Snape, and I were all too focused on the boggart to notice their arrival. Upon seeing the two newcomers, the boggart tried to transform accordingly, but it became confused between Professor Sprout's fear of a flesh-eating slug and Professor Sinistra's fear of a headless corpse, and simply turned itself into half a slug.

Seeing his chance, Remus stepped in. "Riddikulus!" he shouted, jumping in front of us all. The boggart, in its slug form, turned over limply, before angrily transforming back into its state of non-being.

"Now!" Remus instructed.

I sent a blast of force towards the boggart, forcing it towards the wardrobe. Snape waved his wand and the wardrobe door opened. With another push of wind from my wand, I shoved the boggart into the wardrobe. Snape flicked his wand and then turned it, and the wardrobe door shut and locked accordingly.

Sinistra and Sprout regarded the three of us with their mouths wide open.

"What…?"

"There was a boggart in here," Remus explained quickly.

"Yes, but how does that explain the state of the kitchen sink?" Sprout said, gesturing at it. I followed her hand and winced at the sight of water spewing everywhere from the open, half-melted-away pipe.

I waved my wand and muttered, "Reparo." It took a minute or so for everything to come together. By then, Snape had already left us.

"I'll move the wardrobe over tomorrow," Remus said to me. "Let's go." We walked out into the hallway.

I immediately began walking back to my office, out of sheer habit. In truth, my mind was rather numb. I hardly noticed Remus walking beside me until he called my name softly. "Raylynx?"

I turned to him. Seeing his worried face, I suddenly felt ashamed of myself. I tried to laugh. "It was just a boggart. I learned to deal with boggarts back in Hogwarts, with Professor Seymour. I don't know what got into me."

Remus didn't say anything for a long while, but when he did, he said, "Well, maybe we didn't know back then…"

"Know what?"

"How much we had to lose."

Despite my protests, Remus walked me up to my office anyways.

"You don't ever get to complain about my making a fuss over you," I said to him as he adamantly came with me. He opened the classroom door and we both walked inside my classroom. As he casually peered around my classroom, I returned to my desk and sat down. I pulled out my lesson plans for my afternoon class.

"What's that?" Remus nodded at the small pile of wooden charms on my desk, next to which was Jasper's still unopened letter. I swiftly put my arm down over it, covering up his name. I don't know why I felt the need to hide it, but I did.

"Some charms," I said, trying to play it off casually. "They brighten up my desk space a bit."

Remus recognized that I didn't want to talk about it. He looked away, but in doing so, his eyes fell to the trash bin beside my desk. He could make out bits here and there from the mess of torn and crumpled papers: "PSYCHO-" and "Lock Up-".

Seeing where he was looking, I slowly pushed the trash bin behind the inside of my desk, to hide it from his view.

Remus' shoulders fell as he gave a soft sigh, but he simply looked at me and said, "Well, thank you for helping me corral that boggart. I'm sure it will be very useful in my next class."

I gave him a small smile and said, a bit weakly, "Anytime, Remus."

He gave me a short nod in response and then turned and walked out of my classroom.


I still could find no solace in sleep. But my days were brighter, what with having Remus here with me, seeing Neville brighten again, seeing Hermione excel at Ancient Runes, and spotting Harry and Ron laughing in the hallways. And as the introductory days of the semester melted away, autumn came forth in full bloom.

On a crimson and maple gold morning, Remus and I walked out of the Great Hall, having finished breakfast, when I thought I saw a familiar pompous mane of silver hair interrupting the canvas of autumn foliage behind it.

"What is Lucius Malfoy doing here?" I said, frowning.

"Haven't you heard?" I turned to see Professor Sprout, on her way out to the greenhouses for lessons. I shook my head.

"Apparently, Hagrid decided to show his third years a hippogriff. Bit ambitious, if you ask me. Anyways, the Malfoy boy got into a spot of trouble and was injured. And well, you know what the Malfoy family is like. They aren't just going to let it go, are they?" Shaking her head, Professor Sprout left the Great Hall, heading outside. I looked over at Remus, who returned my concerned look.


That night, Remus and I were assigned to patrol duty. We walked through the hallways, occasionally coming across Filch or Mrs. Norris or a creaking, moving suit of armor that McGonagall had enchanted to be on the lookout for students. Since coming back to Hogwarts as a professor, I had also since learned that some of the portrait subjects were bigger tattletales than the others. The ghosts, too, proved to be a useful ally at times.

As the Gray Lady floated past us, Remus chuckled and said in a low voice, "When I was a student, I used to think I was in detention far too often. But now, seeing all of the security measures in place, it's a wonder I didn't spend all my time in detention."

"You did get away with a lot," I agreed. "But I know what you mean. I still feel like I'm in trouble whenever I see Mrs. Norris."

"Most of the pranks weren't that serious, though," Remus said, though he looked a bit skeptical at his own words.

"Oh, yes they were," I said dryly, "I would have put you in a year's detention for some of them, Mr. Lupin."

"And let's be honest," I remarked, "you got the least punishment out of the four of you because you came off the most apologetic and maybe you were, after the prank, but I know you, and seven out of ten times, you were the mastermind behind the next one."

Not denying this, Remus said ruefully, "The others always took it too far."

"Yes," I agreed. "But you were terrible, too."

Remus shot me a sideways look and said, "Did it annoy you? The pranks we used to pull… I know some Gryffindors were always annoyed with us. Riley Smith. I don't know if you would remember him, but he shared our dormitory. He and Henry Prewitt ended up sleeping over with some Ravenclaw friends when we concocted potions for the Slytherins' voice change because we just had buckets of that potion everywhere. And then there were plenty others who said it gave us a bad reputation."

"It does make Gryffindors come off as obnoxious, you can't deny that," I said.

"Well, yes…" Remus admitted sheepishly. "But James always used to say that you secretly enjoyed our pranks."

I laughed. "James always said things like that. That Lily secretly loved him, but she didn't know it. That I secretly enjoyed his pranks, but I wouldn't admit it."

"Looking back, I rather think he was right," Remus said thoughtfully, scratching his chin.

"Yes," I said softly, "I think he was."

As we neared the end of our patrol, I turned to Remus and said, "Can I tell you something silly that's bothering me?"

Remus nodded and looked at me curiously.

"Harry didn't sign up for Ancient Runes," I said, and the disappointment I felt leaked through my voice. "I guess he didn't really think anything of me, despite my efforts to get to know him better."

"I doubt that," Remus replied. "He's a thirteen-year-old boy. He probably just chose all of the classes that his friends decided to take."

"Is that what you did?" I teased him.

He smiled softly. "Yes."

"Is that all that's bothering you?" Remus asked me.

I smiled. "It is silly, isn't it? Letting something like that bother me…"

Remus shook his head.

But my face clouded over again as I admitted, "Well, there is something else."

I paused. I wanted to tell Remus about Neville, but it didn't feel right to divulge something so personal about Neville. Remus waited patiently for me until finally, I said, "Remus."

"Yes?"

"If you ever have the chance, could you maybe do something to lift Neville's spirits? Not go out of your way or anything, but…"

Remus looked a bit confused, but he said, "I'm sure I could do that."

We had reached Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore had asked us to step into his office tonight, as Remus and I had both missed the staff meetings. Remus knocked on his door, and we entered.

"Ah, Professor Lupin. Professor Kingsley. Good evening."

"Good evening, Headmaster," Remus said politely.

"I trust you both have settled in now?" Dumbledore asked us, by way of greeting.

Remus and I both nodded.

"Thank you, Headmaster, for allowing me to arrive a little later," Remus said to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Not at all," Dumbledore said graciously. "The staff meetings are often simply ceremony, anyways, with the most extravagant one being the reading of Mr. Filch's list of banned items, which grows at a faster rate than an old man's beard. I know this with great certainty. I'm sure you can imagine why." He gave Remus a subtle wink.

But then, he said, "There are, however, a few matters for us to discuss. I trust it will not take long. First, I am sure you have noticed the dementors stationed at every entrance. And that leads me to my second point, which is a question for the both of you."

Dumbledore leaned forward and pressing his long fingers together, looked at us both as he said, "Do either of you wish to tell me anything about Sirius Black?"

There was a long pause. Remus and I did not dare to look at each other. Finally, I shook my head. Besides me, in a quiet voice, Remus replied, "No, sir."

Dumbledore stared at us for a moment longer. Then, he said, "Very well."

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "Professor Kingsley, if you would be so kind as to leave us, I would like to discuss something with Professor Lupin alone."

I inclined my head and walked out of the office.

As the door shut behind me, I heard Dumbledore say to Lupin, "Professor Snape has agreed to concoct the potion once a month…"


Out in the hallway alone, I transformed into Crookshanks and made my way to the Gryffindor Tower. I slipped in behind a student and then, finding Hermione in the Common Room behind a huge stack of books, leapt lightly into her lap.

She started, and then she smiled. "Crookshanks," she said happily. "There you are. I was wondering where you'd gone off to."

She scratched me behind the ears as she said, "You know, I'm surprised by how independent you are. But then, I looked you up in the library and there was this fascinating book and it told me all about how Kneazles, which is what you are – well, partly, anyways – are very clever and independent."

"And it'll be good," Hermione went on, "because I've got a lot to keep up with this semester. That's why I've got so many books, see?"

I jumped up onto the table and peered across the books she had scattered everywhere. When I saw the Ancient Runes and Divination textbooks side by side, I paused. Those classes were at the same time, so why did she have the textbooks for both?

"It'll be a lot of work, Crookshanks," Hermione repeated softly. "But I've got to keep up. Professor McGonagall made a special exception for me and everything. She even had to write to the Ministry of Magic to get me a Time-Turner."

A Time-Turner! My tail shot up in surprise. I quickly lowered it, but my tail seemed to have a mind of its own and kept wanting to express my surprise, so I finally sat on it.

So, Hermione's taking all of these classes by using a Time-Turner. Interesting. Well, if she's going to take all of these classes, I might as well nudge her towards the most important subjects. I used my paw to push the Ancient Runes textbook towards her and then, as I leapt off the table, enthusiastically kicked the Potions textbook to the floor.


Late that night in my study, I finally broke the seal on Jasper's envelope.

Dear Raylynx,

It's been far too long since I've seen you. You must be back at Hogwarts by the time this letter reaches you. I've heard from the other Ministry workers that they've posted dementors there as guards. I hope it's not affecting you too badly. I feel anxious for you, although perhaps that's coming from some other place. You see, as much as I love being back out on the field, doing missions, I can't shake this feeling that this isn't where I'm supposed to be. I should be with you. And not just because I want to be with you, which I always do, and always will, but because I want to ask you how you are. The news of Sirius Black's escape must have been quite a shock to you. I want to ask you if you're doing all right. And you'll reply, but I know you. You won't tell me, not really. I should be there with you, shouldn't I, my love? So that I could hold you again. Please tell me at once if I should come see you, and I'll be by your side immediately. You can ask me for anything you need, anything you want, Raylynx, and it would be my greatest happiness to give it you.

All my love,

Jasper

With my fingertip, I slowly traced the ink that made up his name. Jasper.