September 1993 to June 1994, 3rd year

The new subjects were indeed interesting, but they couldn't hold Harry's attention for long before he started reading ahead and doing his own research first into Arithmancy and then various runic systems that weren't even part of the curriculum. He had already finished most of everything he could find on magical creatures in the Hogwarts library. Harry contemplated studying Divination, but when he opened the first book, he immediately knew it wouldn't be worth his time. Divination was useless to all but true Seers and not even the Hogwarts Divinations Professor was a true Seer. The first thing she did was to predict several deaths, among them Harry's - who wasn't even in any of her classes and didn't plan on dying anytime soon, either.

Much like the Divinations Professor, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor proved to be absolutely incompetent. The class was led by the huge man, who for some reason had a fixation on Harry, and ended in disaster right on the first day. Some student got injured by a Hippogriff and now demanded retribution.

One could argue that the student in question should have just listened more carefully to the teacher's explanation.

One could also argue that, maybe, Hippogriffs were more suited for the upper years instead of third-years who had never handled any magical creature whatsoever before.

The student in question stirred up quite the fuss, had the Hippogriff face a trial – which Harry found ridiculously overdramatic, but whatever – and used his injury as a way to antagonise one of the Gryffindors endlessly during Potions.

("It's Malfoy," Theodore said. "Of course he would make this as dramatic as possible."

Harry frowned.

"Don't tell me you have already forgotten. Harry, you've shared a dorm with him for two years.")

The class was absolutely rubbish from then on.

Unlike Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin, despite the questionable first impression he had made, was the best teacher they have ever had in that subject.

Alright, the standards for that were quite low – but Professor Lupin really was a good teacher.

Alright, so he didn't let Harry face the Boggart even though Harry was really curious about his deepest, darkest fear and he really wanted to see how he could use his Gift against such a creature – but it was an enjoyable lesson nonetheless.

For everyone with normal fears at least.

Alright, the lesson was a disaster.

Turns out Slytherins do not have normal fears befitting thirteen-year-olds and their teacher, who had obviously once been in Gryffindor, had not been prepared for that. At all.

Alright, maybe Professor Lupin wasn't the best, but he was still good. Better than his predecessors, anyway. Okay, yeah, that didn't sound very good for him, did it?

Okay. Whatever. Moving on.

Hogsmeade was nothing special. It was just a village with shops, nothing much compared to Diagon Alley. Harry supposed it was a nice break form school, though.

What was special was what happened during the Halloween Feast – namely, Sirius Black trying to get into Gryffindor Tower. Yes, Gryffindor Tower. Nowhere near the dungeons. Nowhere near Harry or his dorm. Also, during the Feast. Very interesting.

Susan just thought Black wasn't right in the head, but Harry was fairly sure there must be more to the story. One didn't manage to break out of the wizarding prison, evade capture for months and then try to break into an empty common room without noticing it was empty and, if they were going with the theory that Black was after Harry's life, the wrong one on top of that. No. No, there was some vital information they were missing. Harry was sure of it.

Only Theodore agreed with Harry.

Not even the teachers came to the same conclusion, because Professor Snape took Harry aside – in the Great Hall, where all students had to sleep that night so the teachers could search the castle, because that totally made sense – to tell him, with a very pained expression, that Black was after him and that he was, under no circumstances, to 'do any funny business like going after Black or there would be consequences'. Harry just blinked at the man and said, "Okay."

There was another Hogsmeade Weekend scheduled right before the winter holidays, during which Harry overheard a very interesting conversation between some teachers, the owner of the pub they were sitting in and a man with a green bowler hat. ("That's our Minister, Harry – the Minister for Magic.")

So apparently Black was Harry's godfather.

"Maybe I could stay with him," Harry mused, "instead of the Dursleys."

Susan gave him a look. "What is wrong with you?"

"... Everything?"

Theodore quietly huffed into his butterbeer. "All the books and artifacts the House of Black owns," he murmured. "And Sirius Black, the only one left to access them …"

Harry raised an eyebrow, amused, "Dark books and dark artifacts?"

"Harry." Susan put a hand on his shoulder, directing his attention back to her, expression stern. "That man murdered thirteen people. He got your parents killed. And now he is coming after your life. You cannot possibly live with him."

"But he's my godfather."

"That's it. You're coming over for Christmas. You too, Theo. I cannot believe the two of you! Actually entertaining the idea of having Harry live with that madman. Honestly! You are coming home with me and we will celebrate Christmas as a family. Who knows what you two would get up to if I left you alone in the castle."

o

Christmas was warm and nice and overall Hufflepuff-y and Harry was kind of put off by how friendly and open and welcoming Susan's family was. He hadn't experienced it that strongly when he had visited during the summer. Theodore was quiet most of the time, but Theodore was always quiet. There was more than one moment where the bewilderment Harry felt was mirrored in Theodore's eyes, though they had both schooled their faces into neutral expressions.

One of the presents Harry received was a broom. (And also a book titled The Nightshade Guide to Necromancy, which gathered horrified gasps from Susan and her family and a pointed look Harry directed at Theodore, who was playing the innocent.)

Susan was afraid the broom might have been a gift from Black and possibly cursed. Harry was pretty sure the broom was a gift from Black, but also not cursed at all.

"He apparently thinks I like Quidditch," Harry said. "Doesn't know me at all."

"Well, he was absent for most of your life," Susan said and then blanched. "Which is a good thing. A good thing! Otherwise, he might have killed you as an infant and – oh god, why did I have to say that?"

"Maybe he did break into Gryffindor Tower because he thought I might be there, after all," Harry mused. "But that still doesn't make sense. Hm …"

"Enough of this," Susan said. "Let's not talk about Black anymore, please."

"So what do I do with this?" Harry asked. "I have no use for a broom."

"This is the newest and most expensive broom on the market, Harry. A very valuable gift."

"So I should sell it?"

"That's not what I meant."

"You can keep it in your bag," Theodore interjected quietly. "Maybe you need an easy way of transportation one day."

"True. And it's not like it would take up a lot of space." Harry tilted his head. "I never tried flying on my own."

"Harry, no."

Harry put on his best pout. "But Susan, it's just flying. How hard can it be?"

"There's a reason brooms are built, Harry. Wizards don't just fly on their own."

"But it's possible. Surely, it's possible? I can't be the first to try and succeed."

"You haven't succeeded, yet. And you are right, you wouldn't be the first to try."

"The Dark Lord was able to fly without a broom," Theodore said.

Harry grinned at Susan. "See?"

Susan sighed. "You-Know-Who is not exactly someone you should use as a role model, Harry."

"Maybe some other time, then. Even though that would have been a nice project."

"Are you running out of things to occupy your mind again?" Susan asked. "I thought the runic research was keeping you occupied."

Harry shrugged. "I pretty much researched all known systems and Madam Pince won't let me access the Restricted Section for the more advanced and the less known ones. Study of Ancient Runes is at its core just a language class, but there's magic there as well – there's power in those runes. If I can get access to the right books, I might be able to find out just how to use that."

"Well, there are known applications," Susan said. "Hogwarts is full of them if you know where to look."

"Like?"

"Pensieves," Theodore said.

"Those as well, but I was talking more along the lines of –"

"Pensieves," Theodore repeated, fixing Harry with an intense look. "Harry, we could create our own Pensieve."

Harry blinked. "Okay. What is a Pensieve?"

"A very rare and powerful magical object that you can use to view memories – your own and other people's."

"Memories? You can extract memories, then? Or make copies of them? Oh, of course! Why didn't I think of that earlier? Oh, that's intriguing. There are so many things you could do, so many opportunities. What if –" Harry paused. "Ah, but I'm sure no one with valuable knowledge ever thought to store their memories or make copies of other people's memories – so much history lost, because wizards didn't think to record it that way. What a travesty."

"What," Susan said flatly.

"Think about it," Harry said. "If someone had thought to store the memories of the ruling Pharaoh – what wisdom we could have gained! Ancient Egypt's Magic! How to build pyramids! Gringotts' Curse Breakers would be out of jobs! Wait – the Royal Library of Alexandria really was destroyed and wasn't secretly saved by magic, was it?"

Susan blinked at him.

"It was destroyed," Theodore said. "But there are many other artifacts that survived. Many runic artifacts, actually."

"Ohhh," Harry cooed. "We need to go to Egypt someday."

Theodore gave him one of his small smiles. "I would love to."

"We … got quite off-topic," Susan said slowly. "We were discussing a new project to keep Harry's mind occupied."

"Pensieve," Harry said decisively. "I'm creating a Pensieve."

Susan raised an eyebrow. "Without access to the Restricted Section?"

Harry grinned. "Makes it all the more challenging, doesn't it?"

"I will gladly supply you with books from our family's library," Theodore said.

Harry beamed at him and exclaimed, "You're the best, Theo!" Which made the boy duck his head in an attempt to hide his pleased smile.

o

Maybe there was something about Harry that screamed 'invite me to your office for tea and odd conversations'. The old headmaster had done it twice, now Professor Lupin was doing it, too. Although, unlike with the headmaster, Harry had a good guess as to why he had been invited.

"How do you like Hogwarts so far, Harry?"

Harry took a sip of his tea. "It's nice. I really like the library."

Professor Lupin smiled faintly. "The library? Really?"

"You were friends with my parents," Harry said, deciding to cut the small talk short. It wasn't a question. He had known for some time, now.

Professor Lupin blinked. "Yes, I was indeed."

"As well as Sirius Black and …" Harry trailed off.

Lupin looked to the ground. "Peter Pettigrew," he finished in a quiet voice.

Had that been the dead guy's name? Harry had honestly forgotten. To be fair, he had only overheard the name once and Harry had been focused more on the 'Sirius Black is Harry Potter's godfather' part of the conversation.

They were silent for a long moment.

"You are not going to ask me about them?" Lupin eventually asked.

"What is there to ask? My parents are dead. Pettigrew as well. And Sirius Black is a man on the run. A very clever man on the run. I wonder how he's doing that."

Professor Lupin paled. It made the scars on his face stand out horribly.

"Ah, I – I'm sure you're busy, Harry. All those new classes must be exhausting. Don't let me keep you."

And before Harry could do so much as open his mouth, he was standing in front of a closed office door. Huh. That had been fast. And he hadn't even mentioned the werewolf part, yet.

Harry had, of course, not only been trying to get out of there as quickly as possible, but also to test the waters. It was clear that he would not get the information he was looking for out of Professor Lupin. The man was too tangled up in his past friendships. So Harry went to Professor Snape instead.

Now, Harry and Snape had a rather peculiar relationship. The man very obviously hated Harry, yet at the same time seemed to be looking out for him? Kind of? He had warned him about Black, after all. And as a Slytherin, Snape was supposed to look after Harry as his Head of House. Harry mostly went to him because he seemed to be about the right age to have attended Hogwarts with his parents, though, and no other reason. And he turned out to be right.

Ironically, when Harry went to ask about his parents and their friends, he discovered the very reason Snape hated him. So his father had been a bully. And his father's friends had been his accomplices. And the very mention of his mother caused Snape so much pain that his stoic mask cracked.

Harry never found out what he had been after in the first place.

"Well, what were you looking for, then?" Susan asked.

"Nothing about this makes sense," Harry said. "Sirius Black and James Potter were best friends. They even made Black my godfather. Literally no one saw Black's betrayal coming. And now he's out to kill me, but despite being clever enough to escape the most heavily warded place of the magical world, he can't even break into the right common room at the right time and attack the right person? Twice? There is something we are missing and I want to know what it is. He may be a madman, but I'm certain he didn't attack that Gryffindor with a knife because he thought it was me."

Susan's face softened. "Oh, Harry, that's –"

"Not for the reasons you are thinking of," he interrupted.

"It's a puzzle you want to solve," Theodore said. "And potentially use to get access to the Blacks' heirlooms."

Susan looked from Theodore to the beaming Harry and groaned. "What was I even expecting?"

Harry never got the chance to solve it.

Right after the exam period was over, Sirius Black wrote him a letter.

'Dear Harry,' it read, 'I am not sure if you know this, but your parents actually made me your godfather' and so on. If the letter was to be believed, then Sirius Black had never actually betrayed the Potters. It had been Peter Pettigrew all along – betraying the Potters, blowing up a street and faking his death, hiding as a rat for twelve years. Black had killed the rat – utterly failing to seize the chance to clear his own name, but that had been his own choice, Harry supposed.

So … Harry was miffed. He had wanted to figure this out on his own, not be told in a letter. It had occupied his mind for months! He had so painstakingly searched for clues and barely found anything, because Lupin and Snape were basically useless as far as sources of information went and Harry refused to ask any of the other teachers, especially the old headmaster. So, yeah, it had been slow going and he had spent more time trying to figure out the runic sequences for the Pensieve, but – but! He had really wanted to solve this puzzle.

Of course, there was no guarantee that what Black wrote was actually the truth. But it made sense. He had been wrongly imprisoned for twelve years – what did it say about the magical world that there hadn't even been a proper trial? – while the actual traitor had been living as a pet of one of the Gryffindors. That was the reason Black had been trying to break into Gryffindor Tower. He knew what he was doing. It would have been easier during the Halloween Feast with all the students out of the way. And the Gryffindor that had gotten 'attacked with a knife' in the middle of the night had probably been the owner of the traitorous rat.

What an anticlimactic end to this dramatic story.

And to top it off, Harry couldn't even go and live with his godfather, because the old headmaster found out and put his foot down. Oh, he believed in Black's innocence, alright – but that was no reason to let Harry go and live with his godfather. And his godfather's werewolf bestie. (Or werewolf boyfriend. Black hadn't been exactly clear on that.) Who had resigned and become jobless and homeless and then Black had been kind enough to take him in or something. Too many people had figured out Professor Lupin's little secret and he had thought it would be better to go quietly rather than stir up a fuss with the parents.

The headmaster might not have wanted Harry to live with his godfather. Harry might not have wanted to live with his godfather – for all he knew, the man could actually turn out to be worse than the Dursleys. Harry had an understanding with the Dursleys, after all. He still wanted to try it first, though. But aunt Petunia would certainly want Harry to live with his godfather. And aunt Petunia would know how to achieve that. She could be quite resourceful if she needed to be, quite wily, too – she just needed the right incentive.

Oh, and the Hippogriff got executed. Harry made the blonde boy watch. (He had remembered him, after a while.) Susan thought that was very cruel of him. Harry thought it was only fair. The blonde boy had been at fault and now he was responsible for getting an innocent creature killed. The least he could do was watch the consequences of his actions.

And that had been third year. Overall, not the most exciting of Harry's school experience so far. He had expected there to be more drama, more excitement, more … everything, really.

What a disappointment.


AN

Harry… You are taking all my plot away. This chapter was supposed to go down differently – I had this whole confrontation with the remaining Marauders planned and all… And then Harry came and was like 'Nope, not gonna do that.' and he did… nothing… He even had the gall to be disappointed.
Well, young man, not in fourth year, you don't!