Harry entered Remus' office at the man's bidding. Remus was setting some books on a shelf and he smiled at Harry.

"Welcome," Remus greeted. "Take a seat I'll be with you in just a moment. I'm just putting these back. A few NEWT students were having a research session with me."

"What're they researching?" Harry asked.

"I'm having my seventh year NEWT students do a final year dissertation on a defense topic of their choice," Remus answered. "It appears Defense has gotten a bit weak since my time here at the school. It seems Hogwarts still has the same problem we had, can't keep any professor past a year. However, the biggest difference it seems, is that the curriculum has changed a bit. My own professors I believed just reused whatever had come before them."

"Yeah . . . and last year Lockhart wasn't much of a teacher," Harry complained. "Most of his books are like . . . autobiographies and didn't have much spell work in them and all that. We spent a lot of time being quizzed on what his favorite color was."

Remus tsked as he finished putting the books away.

"My NEWT students are having a bit of a chore choosing a topic," Remus said. "There're a couple of different routes they can take. Some of choosing to do a profile on a dark creature. Some of choosing to do an in depth look at a particular jinx, hex, or curse. The ones just in are working on how Defense is applicable regardless of what work you find after Hogwarts. It's all very interesting and I'm sure I'll get lovely written twenty-foot essays."

"Twenty feet?" Harry cried, horrified. He was never going to complain about the two feet Professor Snape made them write in potions.

"It is a dissertation," Remus answered. "It's roughly a twenty-page paper. And it's not due until June anyway, so with some time management, they should be able to get it done without any problem. It'll give a few of them a taste of what they're in for if they decide to pursue a mastery in a subject."

Harry blinked. He had not thought about what he wanted to do after Hogwarts. It seemed so very far away, but in reality, it was only four years away!

"But enough about the seventh years," Remus said, "we're here to teach you the Patronus Charm. You ready? Got enough to eat at lunch? Need a snack before we begin? Doing magic uses up a lot of energy and you need to replenish it."

"I'm good," Harry answered. "I didn't realize that using magic uses up energy. Is that why there's always so much food at meals?"

"Yes. On top of that you're all growing children and need great amounts of sustenance anyway." Remus was interrupted by a chest in the corner of the office shaking.

"Ah, I managed to find us another boggart," Remus told Harry. "It'll do for what we need to accomplish." He picked up his wand and levitated the trunk into the center of the office. Harry stood, moving the chair out of the way.

"Now, the charm is quite simple to say," Remus told Harry. "It's Expecto Patronum. Then you just point your wand in the direction of the dementor. That's the easy bit."

"What's the hard bit?" Harry asked.

"Conjuring and keeping at the forefront of your mind, the happiest memory you can think of," Remus answered. "I know Professor Snape's already talked to you about that. Dementors devoid us of the positive memories and feelings that we have, leaving us with only the negative. That is what they feed on. Therefore, to defeat a dementor, we must fight it with what it dislikes the most."

"Happiness," Harry said.

"Exactly! Now I'm going to open the chest and when your Dementor boggart comes out, simply point, and say the incantation. Do you have the memory at the forefront of you mind?"

Harry nodded.

"Very well. Let's do this."

Next thing Harry was aware of, he was being helped up to a sitting position from where he was sprawled out on the floor. Remus settled him against the chair and handed him a piece of chocolate.

"What happened?" Harry asked, taking a big bite of chocolate. Warmth immediately seeped into him, like he had had just come inside from a cold day.

"You fainted for a moment," Remus answered. "Dementors have a peculiar effect on you."

Now Harry remembered. Remus had opened the trunk and a Dementor had come rising out. Harry had yelled the Patronus Charm several times, but nothing had happened. Then Remus had been helping him up to a sitting position.

"What did I do wrong?" Harry asked.

"It is an advanced spell, Harry, you mightn't have done anything wrong. But let's see, shall we?" Remus looked thoughtful for a second. "What memory were you using?"

"When I first got my Hogwarts letter," Harry said. Remus gave him a sad smile, running his hand through Harry's hair. The man paused, as if realizing that maybe he should not do that, but Harry pushed his head into the man's hand. It felt nice, and he suspected Remus had done it when he was a baby.

"I'm sure that is a really happy memory," Remus told him, "but it may not evoke strong enough happiness to ward off a Dementor."

Harry sighed. He had been so sure that it would work. Every time he thought about finding out he was a wizard; he was filled with such joy knowing that there was a place where he belonged! What could be stronger than knowing you belonged somewhere?

A small, tantalizing wisp of a memory floated to the front of his mind. He did not remember ever having it, and he wondered if the Dementors had pulled forward other memories that he did not realize he had, much like the screaming woman. As he sat grasping at this discovery it was nearly drowned out by the memories of the woman screaming and the faint words of "not Harry!", but he kept focusing and focusing on it until it burst into his mind like strong arms wrapping around him and holding on. Like a hug. Like resting his head against a warm chest and hearing a beating heart and letting it lull him to sleep. Like a deep voice quietly singing,

"The monster's gone, he's on the run, and your daddy's here."

It was so strong Harry had not realized he was crying until Remus was putting his arm around his shoulders.

"If you don't want to continue—"

"No!" Harry shouted. Quieter, he added, "I want to try again. I've got the memory."

Remus looked a little skeptical. Harry brushed away his tears.

"All right then. Up you go." Remus pulled Harry to his feet and went back over to the chest. Harry readied his wand. Remus opened the chest.

The boggart rose from the chest, its form the billowy shape of a Dementor. Skeletal hands protruded from the robes and the hood obscured the face of the Dementor in deep shadow. Immediately the air in the office grew cold. Harry held onto the abiding peace and safety that the memory of the beating heart and singing voice made him feel. He pointed his wand and cried,

"Expecto Patronum!"

This time, a bright white mist came out of his wand, enveloping the Dementor-boggart. It was warm and almost had a melodic quality to it. The Dementor-boggart reeled back towards the chest. Harry lowered his wand, still producing the white mist, and the Dementor-boggart fell back into the chest. Remus slammed the lid shut. Harry dropped his wand, the mist disappearing.

"That's it!" Remus cried with a laugh. He scooped Harry up into a large hug, spinning him around. Harry joined in his laughter, hugging Remus back. This, he thought, was what it must feel like to have a parent. Someone who is excited for you. The Dursleys had never cared how well he did in school, so long as he did not outperform Dudley. And Remus felt as warm and safe as the beating heart and singing voice.

Harry decided this memory was going to be added to his arsenal.

"Harry? Can I talk to you?"

Harry paused in his ascent up one of the many staircases. Neville shifted his school bag, looking nervous. Classes had ended for the day almost an hour ago, except for some astronomy classes, and Harry was on his way to see Remus for another Patronus lesson and some tea. He had been going to Remus' office twice a week for the last two weeks and was steadily improving according to Remus.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"Uh . . . you're on your way to see Professor Lupin, right? Aria said you were getting lessons on chasing off Dementors."

"That's right. Do you want me to teach you? I told Aria, Ron, and Hermione I'd try to teach them once Remus deemed me sufficient enough not to need lessons anymore. I'd teach you too."

Neville raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh . . . that's nice of you, Harry. I'd like that, thanks! But . . . I was wondering if . . . I could come with you."

"To my lessons?"

"Yes."

"I don't mind," Harry told him, "but can I ask why?" It was definitely an odd request. Neville didn't stay after classes, except for Herbology, but that was because he was a Herbology prodigy, and everyone knew that was Neville's favorite class. And Neville didn't need extra tutoring, he was decent in his classes, even if he struggled with potions.

"So . . . Professor McGonagall mentioned in passing that Professor Lupin was at Hogwarts the same time as Professor Snape." He paused, as if trying to find the right words to say.

"That's right," Harry supplied. "He was in Gryffindor to Snape's Slytherin."

"Right. See . . . that means that he'd have been at school at the same time as my parents. And . . . most of the people who knew my parents are either dead or my grandmother's age. And there aren't that many. I've had a few conversations with McGonagall about my mum and dad . . . but . . ." a wistful look came over Neville. "It'd be nice to hear about them from someone who went to school with them. Even if he wasn't friends with them, he'd have shared Gryffindor Tower and maybe some classes."

Harry immediately nodded.

"Of course!" he cried, gesturing Neville to fall into step with him. "And I take it that you're not able to talk to your Uncle Florean too much either?" He thought back to that day in the ice cream shop with Neville.

"He's told me a little," Neville answered, "from the few times we're able to have a good long talk. It's not much though. Grandmother doesn't even like it when I write him letters. There're a few distant Longbottom family members that I can write to. They're older than Grandmother and Uncle Algie though . . . and didn't know my dad that well."

"Why haven't you talked to Professor Lupin yet?"

"I . . . didn't know until Samhain. I've been trying to gather the courage. Some Gryffindor I am."

"To be fair," Harry said, "I've not talked to him much about my parents. We did write letters to each other before. McGonagall connected us. Same with Professor Snape. He and my mum were friends. There's so much I want to know but I know it makes people sad to talk about, so I haven't really asked much."

"I guess we're just going to have to do this together then."

When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, Remus was just capping a bottle of red ink. He took one look at the two of them and gave his usual sad smile.

"I was wondering when you could come, Neville," he murmured. "I suppose it won't hurt to put off your lessons for one night, Harry." He rose and crossed to the table in the corner of the office, tapping it with his wand and a murmur of "Tea for three please."

A tea service popped onto the table and Remus floated it over to his desk. Harry moved a few things aside and Remus was prompt in transfiguring the chairs into slightly more comfortable chairs with pillows and a soft back. Nothing like the squashy armchairs found in each house's common room, but comfortable enough for a conversation.

"You expected that I would come?" Neville asked as Harry made everyone their tea.

"I thought that at some point either your grandmother or McGonagall would mention that I was in the same year as your mother. Your dad was a year ahead of us all."

"It was Professor McGonagall. Grandmother . . . she's never told me a lot about my parents. Just . . . she's quick to point out when I'm not acting like them. Especially my dad."

Harry was burning with curiosity. He had been wondering for a while what had happened to Neville's parents but had never had the courage to ask his friend, nor had it ever come up in conversation with anyone else that might know, like Daphne or Blaise or Ron.

"Your grandmother thought a great deal about Frank," Remus agreed. "He was her entire world, especially after your grandfather passed away during his seventh year."

Neville scooted forward in his seat; hands clenched tightly around his teacup.

"What can you tell me about my mum and dad?" he cried. "I want to hear everything!"

"Your parents were . . ." Remus leaned back in his chair, staring off into the distance as he recalled his own school days. "Alice was always kind. She was a bit on the quiet side, a little shy, but she was always very kind. She was the perfect balance to Lily."

"My mother?" Harry piped up.

"The two of them were best friends. There were four in their year: Lily, Alice, Marlene, and Dorcas. Their friendship followed them out of Hogwarts. Alice, Doracs, and Marlene were Lily's bridesmaids and Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene were Alice's. In fact, Lily was your godmother, Neville, and Alice was Harry's."

"We're godbrothers?" Neville cried.

"That's cool," Harry said. Neville's head swiveled between Remus and Harry.

"But . . ." Neville stuttered. "Mum and Dad weren't . . . they weren't attacked . . . if Mum's Harry's godmother, then why wasn't he with us?" Harry frowned. What was Neville talking about? "Or with his godfather?" Neville paused. "Who's my godfather?"

"One question at a time!" Remus cried. "Take a deep breath. I don't know why Harry was not sent to Alice. It could be because your parents were in hiding, just like the Potters were. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was after your families. That's all I know about that, so please, I can't tell you anymore because I don't know any more."

Harry and Neville looked at each other with disappointment.

"As for your godfather, I am surprised you don't know who he is. Frank and Alice made Frank's cousin, Bartemius Crouch Junior, your godfather." Remus sipped sadly at his tea.

"That can't be right," Neville said. "Grandmother . . . she's told me many times who's responsible for . . . for my parents . . ." he set his teacup down hard and turned to Harry. "My parents were in hiding with me. They were found by four Death Eaters and tortured into insanity. They lived in at St. Mungo's."

Harry hurriedly wracked his brain for what St. Mungo's was. Was that the hospital that the healer that checked on Aria was from?

"Grandmother's told me there names," Neville continued, looking hard at Remus. "Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband, Rodolphus; his brother Rabastan; and Barty Crouch Jr."

Remus nodded.

"Well," Harry commented a bit blithely, "not only are we godbrothers through our mothers, but we can commiserate together about how awful our godfathers are."

Neville glanced sharply at him.

"Who's your godfather?" he demanded.

"Sirius Black."

Neville's jaw dropped.

"Seriously?" he cried. Harry nodded. Neville looked at Remus for confirmation. Remus nodded again.

"We really lucked out on godfathers, didn't we?" Neville asked. "They should've made you our godfather, Professor."

Longing clouded Remus' face for a moment before he smoothed it away with his usual smile.

"Drink your tea," Remus muttered, his voice suddenly gruff. "Let me tell you about the time Frank fell into the lake when he was first trying to woo Alice."

"I really hope Professor Lupin doesn't give us too much homework," Ron said as they entered DADA. "The Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match is this Saturday and I don't want to have to worry about homework if it runs long."

"What makes you think it's going to run long?" Aria asked. "I thought Diggory was the best Seeker in the school?"

"That doesn't mean the game'll be short," Ron told her. "The Snitch could decide to hide of hours!"

"It's getting too cold for Quidditch," Hermione complained.

"That's what warming charms are for," Ron stated. "Percy's been getting good practice because I always ask him to cast it on me."

"What're you going to do next year when Percy's not there?" Aria asked as they settled into their seats, Ron and Harry sharing a desk while she and Hermione shared another. "Get the twins to cast the charm?"

"Merlin, no! I'll just have to have Hermione cast it."

"Or you could learn it yourself," Hermione snipped, though Aria could tell she wasn't really annoyed.

As the third years settled, an awkward hush fell over the room as all the students realized around the same time that their professor was not there.

"I heard that if the professor doesn't show up after fifteen minutes, we're legally allowed to leave the class," Dean said.

"I think that's just Muggle schools," Aria told him.

The door to the classroom suddenly shot open and Professor Snape came stalking into the classroom, angrily flicking his wand so that the shutters slammed shut with bangs over the windows, plunging the classroom into semi-darkness, the only light coming from the lamps on the wall that automatically flared to life when the shutters closed.

At the front of the room Snape spun on his heel and glared at them. Aria could not remember seeing him so angry during a class period.

"Turn to page 394," he ordered.

Students scrambled for their textbooks. For the next minute the only sound was the hurried flipping of pages. Aria frowned as she flipped to the right page. They had barely gotten to page 103, why were they skipping all the way to 394?

"Sir?" Hermione questioned, "we've only just finished learning about hinky-punks. We're not due to study werewolves until next term."

"Are you in the habit of questioning your professor, Miss Granger or do you just like the sound of your own voice?"

Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and Millicent sniggered as Hermione wilted in her chair. Aria could not help the glare she sent to her Head of House. He was snippy at the best of times, sometimes a little snide if someone was being particular dumb, but never outright mean!

With another wave of his wand the projector screen was pulled down from the ceiling and the old-fashioned projector, which the wizarding world called a "magic lantern", was lit. Immediately, pictures were projected onto the screen.

"The werewolf," Snape began, "gets its name from the Old English werwulf which means "wolf-man" and refers to a person who has been cursed to shapeshift into a wolf on full-moons. Another name for a werewolf is "lycanthrope" which is connected to the medical term of "lycanthropy", which is the general term used to describe the affliction of becoming a werewolf. Those words from the Ancient Greek word lukánthropos which means "wolf-human"."

The slide showed a sketch of a man turning into a ferocious wolf beast.

"Werewolves should not be confused with animagi," Snape continued. "Can anyone tell me the difference between an Animagus and a werewolf?"

Aria and Hermione raised their hands.

"Only one person?" Snape questioned. "What a pity. I expected more from third years. Very well, Miss Bourne, what is the difference between and Animagus and a werewolf?"

"Animagi are people who can shapeshift into an animal at will," Aria explained, perhaps a bit sharply at Snape's dismissal of Hermione. "Like Professor McGonagall. It's an advanced form of Transfiguration and very few are able to accomplish it. Werewolves, though . . ." she glanced down at her textbook, "are cursed through a bite from another werewolf and can't control the fact that they transform on the nights of the full moon."

"A very thorough explanation. Ten points to Slytherin."

At the end of class, Snape assigned a three-foot essay on werewolves and how to identify one. No one in the class was happy.

"He doesn't even assign three-foot essays in potions!" Ron moaned as they now crossed the castle to have Professor Snape teach them again in Potions. "I hope this isn't a foreshadowing on what potion's class is going to be!"

"Oh, foreshadowing?" Aria teased, hoping to lighten the mood. "Using some big words from Divination, are we? I knew you had a knack for it."

"Geroff!" Ron muttered, face turning red. "I wonder where Professor Lupin was though."

"Maybe he wasn't feeling well," Hermione said. "He does tend to look sickly more often than not."

Aria and Harry glanced at each other. Remus had always gone into London for treatment for his autoimmune disease, was he away for treatment, Aria wondered? Did he go to St. Mungo's or somewhere else?

By the time they arrived in the Potion's classroom, Snape seemed to have gotten into a slightly better move. Either that, or all the rumors about him wanting the Defense post was a lie and he really did enjoy teaching potions more. He did snap at Crabbe and Goyle and take points after he caught them actively trying to toss something to Neville's potion even though Neville was on the other side of the classroom with Lavender and Parvati. Subtlety was never a strong suit of those two boys.

Thankfully, the day continued to improve surprisingly with Divination. They were studying tasseomancy, or tasseography, which was the art of reading tea leaves. Trelawney, for all her faults and oddness, knew how to make a good pot of tea. Aria was partnered with Hermione for this, as usual. Lavender and Parvati sat at the table next to them and Harry and Ron were on the other side. There was a whole ritual to the reading of tea leaves and each partner would take a turn being the sitter or the seer.

Aria decided to be the sitter first. She drank the contents of her teacup, leaving the tealeaves and a small amount of liquid at the bottom of the cup. She then took the cup by the handle in her left hand, keeping the rim up, and swirled the liquid within three times from left to right so that some of the tea leaves would cling to the sides of the cup while the rest of the leaves remained on the bottom. Once she had completed swirling the cup, she slowly tipped the cup over the saucer and let the remaining liquid drain into the saucer.

Once the liquid was drained, she handed the teacup over to Hermione with a whispered prayer that the symbols left by the leaves would correctly represent her future. She tried to be solemn about it like the textbook instructed her to be, but Hermione, with her equally solemn smirk giving away how funny she was finding the whole thing, made Aria giggle. She caught a few glares from Fay and Sophie as those two took Divination very seriously, even more seriously than Lavender and Parvati!

Now Hermione was meant to read the leaves. The cup was divided into different parts. The handle represented the sitter's "sphere" and was meant to represent the south point of the compass. Aria still wasn't sure what the latter had to do with anything. Then, Hermione was meant to interpret the symbols left the tea leaves. Not only was she meant to identify the symbols and what they meant, but where the symbols landed was also important. Symbols near the rim meant these things were for the present, the sides of the teacup were for event in the not-so-distant future, and the bottom the distant future. Then, of course, the closer the symbols were to the handle of the cup, the closer to being fulfilled the events were.

"You've got lots of lines leading from the present to the future," Hermione told her. "Those mean journeys. They're not quite straight, so you might have a difficult journey beginning soon and as you go into the future. There's a nearby symbol that . . . I think it's a mountain. Several mountains actually. So you're going to go on a long difficult journey with either powerful friends or powerful enemies. Or both."

"Awesome," Aria said. "I love long difficult journeys. Just what I want. Perhaps a wizard and thirteen dwarves will come along for the ride."

Hermione laughed before handing Aria her cup back and pouring herself a cup of tea. As Hermione drank, Aria turned to Harry and Ron.

". . . you're going to suffer," Ron said, reading out of the textbook, "but you're going to be happy about it?"

Harry sighed and looked at the ceiling.

"Cheery!" he cried.

"Apparently I'm going to go on a long difficult journey with powerful friends and enemies," Aria consoled him. "Perhaps our futures are intertwined. Could you be one of my powerful friends?"

"And Malfoy could be your powerful enemy," Harry teased back, grinning.

Trelawney wandered over to their tables.

"Who's cup have you been reading?" she asked Ron.

"Harry's."

"Let me see, dear. What did you read?"

"Well, I think he's—"

Ron was cut off by Trelawney's sharp, horrified cry. She all but threw Harry's cup down, clutching at the many beads around her neck.

"My boy!" she cried, looking at Harry. "I'm so sorry! It's . . . the Grim!"

Aria and Hermione jumped from their seats to peer over Ron's shoulder to stare into the teacup. Aria nodded with small "huh". The tea leaves did look like a dog of some sort.

"Oh, you mean Snuffles?" Harry questioned. Trelawney blinked, having clearly been about to go into a long, wailing lecture about what the Grim symbolized. If Aria remembered correctly, the Grim was an omen of death.

"Snuffles?" Trelawney asked. Several people snickered.

"Hagrid's new dog," Harry explained. "It's a huge black dog. Kinda looks like a Grim. In fact, a few people have thought it was a Grim, but it's just a really large stray. He's had Snuffles for about . . . I think over a month? Snuffles seems to like me."

"Maybe you're going to adopt Snuffles," Aria said. "But you've got a heart next to it, so maybe you've found your new best friend!"

"It's . . . Hagrid has a Grim as a pet?" Trelawney asked.

"It wouldn't be the weirdest thing," Ron commented, "first year he had a dragon hatch in his hut. Had to get dragonkeepers to come and get it and everything!"

Several students were nodding. Even though most had not been there to witness it, the story had circulated quickly once the students had returned from their Christmas holidays.

Trelawney turned to Fay and Sophie, deciding that she was done with Harry for the moment. Aria, he, Hermione, and Ron laughed into their hands as Trelawney continued to ignore them for the rest of class.