I won't update for a while I said. Oops, I finished my chores today and had some times for fun :D thank you to Bettina for commenting on the last chapter! I had saved the explanation for what Eliza was doing in Little Whinging for a different chapter, but thought it was okay to bump it up to now for some clarity. It's a pretty small thing, really.

I had the Cho Chang name debate with my fellow students recently. I speak Mandarin, so my friend and I went through some headcanons as to how it can be explained in-universe. We sorta landed on accents as an answer. It's rather far-fetched.

Note: could have minor Grammar mistakes. I wanted to upload this before I go to a drag show.


"Here you go professor," Ms. Chang walked up to her table and handed in her parchment. "Thank you for the extension again. I really needed it."

"They should really stop making teams go back-to-back, but that's just my opinion," Eliza smiled at Cho. Ravenclaw had the honour of playing Slytherin and then Gryffindor within a short span of three weeks, which meant that she had Ravenclaw players coming up to her asking her for an extension on their homework or essay. Being a former Quidditch player herself and knowing how stressful the Quidditch captain could be (and this was also a dig at herself), she allowed an extension by at least a week.

Eliza looked down at the name on the essay and looked at it quizzically.

"Uh, Ms. Chang," Eliza said all of a sudden. "If you don't mind me asking…why does everyone call you Cho?"

Cho turned around, her hands clasped together. It seemed to be an awkward topic for her from the way her shoulders were tensed.

"Well… no one here can really pronounce it," she said in an embarrassed tone. "One time I tried to teach them they kept saying Cho instead of Chun and we never got to pronouncing the Li. So… my name turned from Chun-li to Cho and everyone keeps saying it that way."

"That's… a shame," Eliza looked away. "Chun means Spring, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah it does," she perked up slightly.

"Well, seeing as you are my student I'll still call you Ms. Chang but rest assured, I will pronounce your name properly."

"Thank you prof-"

"Sorry, sorry!" Hermione came bursting into the room. "Sorry, I didn't show up to class today profess – Oh, hi Cho."

Eliza raised an eyebrow. The Ravenclaw excused herself from the class to join her friends, which left her alone with Hermione.

"Are you alright, Ms. Granger?" Eliza asked.

"I missed it," Hermione had her fist clenched. "I promise I will do a compensation. Anything. I have so much on my plate a-and…"

Eliza took pity.

"Alright. I give you one homework: Rest," Eliza gestured to the chair opposite from her. "Have a tea and biscuit."

"But… professor?"

"Oh missing ONE class won't send you into a downward spiral, especially not introduction level Muggle Studies." Eliza chuckled. "You've been in quite a state from what Hagrid told me."

Hagrid had told her about it when she last came over to the hut for a drink. Hermione had been knee-deep in law for magical creatures on top of all of her classes.

"And to top it all of," Hagrid had taken a big swig of his mug. "The boys aren't talkin' to her! All this nonsense about the firebolt and Scabbers."

"Scabbers?" Eliza had asked. "What's Scabbers?"

"The rat. Weasley's rat, I would say. But from what 'mione tells me, that rat is nearing the end of his days but Ron clings onto 'em, you know?"

Eliza had tried to fix the Firebolt situation. Harry had come to her in frustration one day after McGonagall once more denied him his Christmas present.

"I'd argue that it's improving your broom skills," Eliza had offered apologetically.

"Can't you just tell McGongall you got it for me?" Harry had begged.

"She already knows I didn't but don't freat. I have a feeling that it will be given back to you soon."

Hermione sat down. The bags underneath her eyes made her look like a child on Halloween who had dressed up as a ghost.

"It's just… it's like they don't care!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm not a pushover, am I professor? I just … I just want them to be safe! You're going through all these precautions and he just –"

"Let it out," Eliza produced some tissues as Hermione started to cry. She left the young child alone, making a kettle of tea. She thought Chrysanthemum would help.

"Listen, Ms – may I call you Hermione?" Eliza asked. Hermione nodded.

"Hermione, there will come day where they'll understand. But it's not up to you to make amends for their actions. Your cat did something cats do. You had a valid concern for Harry's safety. It would be inhumane not to."

"Could you… talk to them?" Hermione sniffed.

"I will. All be in due time," Eliza said, handing Hermione another tissue. I'll take care of it; don't worry about it."

On a Saturday, Eliza left the castle to talk to someone at Gringott's. She had no idea where to start – surely she should know someone at Gringott's Bank. But as she wracked her brain for a name, nothing came up.

Gringott's had not changed. As she walked into the hall, she found herself unsure what she was even doing. Maybe she can play it off by getting gold from her vault; that could never hurt.

"Eliza?" she turned to face a small, plump red-headed woman.

"Oh, Molly!" Eliza exclaimed and hugged the woman. The last time she had seen her in person, she had been pregnant with Ginny. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"Neither was I," she looked enthusiastic. "I'm here because Bill is in the country shortly – William, our oldest. He's a Cursebreaker now."

"Is he?"

"He kept swooning about the ancient curses and tombs, I wonder where he got it from," she looked at her accusingly, and Eliza shrugged.

"What can I say? Is he here?" an idea sprung into her mind. "I have a question and I think he may be the perfect person to ask."

Bill Weasley, though he worked in Egypt, was rather pale. Still, you could see the sun damage in his long red hair. A fang hung off one of his ears and he wore loose-fitting clothing, befit for the unforgiving Saharan sun.

Molly excitedly re-introduced the two.

"She works at Hogwarts now," Molly explained. "I nearly couldn't believe George and Fred when they wrote about it. Now, what's this about?"

Bill looked at his mother, gesturing for her to leave some space.

"Confidential," Bill told his mother.

"Ah, right. Sorry."

Eliza felt warmth in her heart at the sight of the two Weasleys. She remembered when Bill was 10. He barely reached her hip. Now, he towered over her.

"So, what's the question?"

"We have a small situation over at Hogwarts – nothing to worry about, of course," she quickly reassured. "But I was wondering… is it possible for someone to order under a different name but use money from a different vault."

"That's quite specific," Bill scratched his beard. "But yes. Those order forms are charmed, you see. The vaults are magically sealed so that only the person whom the vault belong to can use the money. That or there is some agreement that the person may use the vault. Names do not matter, it's Goblin magic."

"So theoretically, if a different person were to write my name down on an order but use money from a vault they have access to…"

"Yes, it's possible," Bill nodded. "Why, has someone moved money without permission?"

"Oh no," Eliza shook her head. "Just some non-sense about a firebolt, that's all."

"Well, then I hope it gets settled," Bill stated. "I hope you get to come back to Egypt. Gringott's is actually interested in the Shafiq family manor. You have some nasty curses up on that house. And perhaps you will lend us a hand in Luxor…?"

"Ah, yes. I shall. One day… but I'm rather busy. Perhaps in the summer." Eliza waved it off.

Eliza had not thought about the Shafiq family manor in ages. It had been the place where Rosier had killed her mother, and no other Shafiq member had entered the house since, mostly because they'd died off during the first war for fighting against the Dark Lord.

She left Diagon Alley with a promise to come to the Burrow the next time she had a day off. Molly wanted to know everything she had been up to.

McGonagall had the firebolt ready to be handed back to Harry.

"It's not jinxed or hexed," McGonagall grimaced. "And I dare say I really do want to win the Quidditch cup, it would be a shame…"

"They wouldn't tell me if money been taken out of Black's vault."

Eliza gave a half-lie. She had never asked, nor would the Goblins tell if asked. She had a sinking feeling that if it was from Sirius, he managed to keep it a big secret. That still didn't explain how he could order one – imperious curse, perhaps? Or maybe it was just a fan of Harry who had wanted to sponsor his Quidditch endeavours.

"Here, take it," McGongall said. "Potter's having lessons with Remus. Extra lessons so that the dementors won't attack him again."

Eliza walked to the DADA classroom and knocked. It was nearing curfew, meaning they should be done any minute now.

"Come in!" she heard Lupin call out.

Harry lit up.

"My broom!"

"It just got cleared by McGonagall," Eliza handed it to him. The candles in the room had gone out, and a cold had sickened in.

"Did you get a dementor in here or why is it so cold?"

"A boggart," Remus explained. "Completely harmless. It turns into a dementor when Harry is around."

"It's still not working," Harry let out a frown. Remus had a big bar of chocolate from Zonko's in his hand.

"He's doing wonderfully," Remus insisted.

"I don't know, Remus. He's looking a little pale," Eliza pulled out something from one of the drawers – a pepper-up potion – and handed it to Harry. "Here. With this and the chocolate, you'll be okay in no time."

"Has that been there this whole time?" Remus looked bewildered.

Eliza cleared her throat, cutting him off. "I don't want to interrupt, but it's nearly bedtime. But before I let you run off with the broom, I need you to promise me something.

"Anything, professor," Harry said excitedly. "I can't wait to train with this."

"Apologise to Hermione," Eliza said sternly. "She was only looking out for you."

"I…" Harry looked down, ashamed. "Yes, I guess. Sorry."

"Don't apologise to me," Eliza reminded. "Now of you go. You have a game to win – not that I am allowed to have favourites, of course."

Harry nodded and was ready to leave the room. But before he could, he turned around.

"Professor? Can you do a patronus?"

Eliza looked at Remus, who nodded. It wouldn't hurt to show him.

Eliza muttered the incantation under her breath, and a silver stream emitted from the tip of her wand. It ran around the room, pretending to knock things over, and snuggled against Harry's leg before disappearing.

To anyone's eyes, it looked like a small, fluffy bear.

But to Remus and Eliza, it was the shape of Sirius' animagus.

Gryffindor won against Ravenclaw. It was a rather exhilarating game. This time, Lupin was able to attend with her. It felt like old times as they dressed themselves in scarlet robes, though Eliza also had a Ravenclaw blue shawl wrap so that it wouldn't seem like she was completely for one house.

There seemed to be a struggle for the snitch, which turned out to be three Slytherin boys dressed up as dementors to sabotage the game.

"I have never," Eliza crossed her arms. The three boys were waiting for Snape to show up. "Seen the house of Slytherin stoop so slow for a Quidditch game! Especially you, Malfoy!"

Malfoy scowled at her, and he looked a lot like his mother when he did that. Narcissa loved to scowl.

"There, there," Snape said in an annoyed tone. "I'll take them off your hands."

"If they don't get detention," she pointed out. "I am making them scrub the toilets without magic. Even better – cauldrons."

"If you want Lucius to get you fired, be my guest."

"I'd say that was quite a game, don't you think?" Lupin rubbed his forehead. "And did you see the patronus Harry produced? Blimey, I could have sworn it was –"

"A stag," they finished together.

"He tells me a little bit, you know," Remus's voice was tinged with sadness. "Whenever he sees the dementors, he remembers them. He hears them. He can't remember anything else."

The statement weighed on her as they walked down to the village.

"I wish I hadn't listened to Dumbledore sometimes," they were now sitting in the Three Broomsticks. "Maybe he would have had a nicer childhood away from Petunia. I met her recently. She doesn't seem that… motherly."

"He must have had his reasons," Remus reasoned. "We were twenty-two, Eliza. I don't think he would have placed a child in our care. Petunia was at least stable."

"Stable? Yes. Loving? Absolutely not. I lived a few roads from Petunia, did you know that?" Eliza tapped her nails against the glass. "I never introduced myself again. She would have made the family move away. Absolute nutter that husband of hers."

"But why were you even there?" Remus wondered. "That's not the first place you would go."

"Dumbledore wanted a wizard nearby in case something bad happened. He had my aunt Arabella – uh, not my actual aunt. Like the in-law aunt… but any who, she already lived in the area. But she's a squib so she can't really do magic if something bad happened. So Dumbledore kept me around and I just took it as a new start. I saw that open vacancy in that street and just… stopped, I guess. Did a muggle education, the whole shabang. I got to keep a close eye on Harry when he was still young, but afterwards… well, it was never necessary to be around."

"Sounds like something I should have done," Remus looked remorseful. "But at last, people would notice my sickness way too soon."

"I could have joked and said you were my sick husband," that thought amused Eliza. She was still young when she started, so the neighbours just thought that she was well-off. But even that had looked a little bit suspicious. "It would have stopped all the weird questions."

Remus scoffed. "Right, like the howling would have stopped things."

"I wouldn't have let you suffer in silence."

"We sort of did still suffer in silence," he pointed out.

Eliza still felt guilty about that. Why exactly had they stopped talking to each other? They had seen each other at the funeral, but afterwards, she popped away to her father's place and only wrote to people when they asked for her. Those letters stopped coming in after she had argued for a trial.

"We're here now," Eliza reminded. "I'll have to see what Dumbledore says at the end of this year. I won't have a job by the looks of it."

"You'll find one," Remus assured. "Your prospects are better than mine."

They didn't talk about the past afterwards. Instead, they talked about their classes, new advancements in potions, and the last time they had played wizard chess together - Remus was interested in the muggle chess championships as he had caught a preview of it - and the newest Daily Prophet crossword.

They walked back up to the castle. It was already late, but Eliza felt a little bit hungry. So, she left Remus to make a turn to the kitchens. It seemed as though the Gryffindor victory was still being celebrated. She smiled. They should enjoy themselves, though she knew that McGonagall would go crazy if she didn't get her eight hours of sleep.

As she turned the corner, a pair of hands reached for her in the darkness. Before she could yelp, a rather dirty hand clamped her mouth shut.

"Mhmmm!" Eliza had tried to say let go, but that was unproductive. Instead, she stomped on the perpetrator's foot.

"Ow!" the voice was raspy.

Her heart pounded against her chest. She knew that voice. She knew it all too well.

There were two parts of herself working against her. There was her heart that leapt at the sight of Sirius, the one that longed to be near him. Then there was her brain, the logical part that was sending alarm bells to her nerves.

Sirius' eyes looked as menacing as they did the last time they saw each other. Bloodshot, grey, and very much a reminder that she was in the presence of a killer.