Disclaimer: Sirius Black belongs to JK Rowling.

A/N: I've struggled a bit with this story for a number of reasons, but one lingering one is the dangling plot threads left over from my time co-writing the series in Book 2. Notably, we had Fudge being assassinated, Harry learning wandless magic, and Dumbledore & Co. starting their own reading of the later books. But honestly, we were just kind of winging it to have more dramatic (heh) consequences to the original book reading, shaking up the school and the Ministry.

Ultimately, I kept the second book reading, but that kind of undermined the other stuff. As the story has gone on, I've tightened up the timetable to defeat Voldemort and placed it more squarely on Dumbledore's shoulders, so the other plot points matter less. Still, I'm gratified that people still see it as a good story, and I'm optimistic about wrapping it up successfully.

Interlude II: Sirius Questions

"So, I was just wondering, Professor," Harry asked Professor Dumbledore as soon as he could reach him, "was there something to Fudge describing Voldemort as 'alone and friendless'? I mean, that was in Trelawney's prophecy. Did he know something…or even predict something?"

For a moment, when Harry mentioned the prophecy, he thought he saw Dumbledore flinch in surprise, but a moment later, he was sure he imagined it because he looked as calm as ever, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I noticed that as well, Harry," he said, "and I thought it was curious. But on the whole, I think not. While it is possible that Cornelius had some sort of minor premonition, the much likelier place to look is the only common link between the two occurrences: you."

"Me?" Harry said in surprise.

"More specifically, I believe Professor Trelawney's prophecy included those words specifically because you had heard them before," he explained. Harry looked on incredulously. "There is much we do not know about prophecies and where they come from. Every faith tells its own tales about them, and those wizards who do not believe in a deity per se tell other tales still. These are the sorts of things that are studied in the Department of Mysteries, and even I do not know all that goes on in there. But one thing we do know is that prophecies are not merely spoken into the aether. Each one is delivered to someone who can influence it—not always or even often to the subjects of the prophecy themselves, but someone close to the action, as it were, who could influence the outcome or at least interpret the prophecy afterwards."

"But don't all prophecies have to come true anyway, Professor?"

"Certainly not. And you would do well to remember that, Harry," Dumbledore said sharply. "Not all prophecies are fulfilled, and those that are can sometimes be fulfilled in more than one way. Indeed, far too often, a wizard will seek to prevent a prophecy only to bring about the very thing he sought to avoid. Prophecies can be treacherous, and there is a reason they are studied in secret by the Ministry. But no, not all prophecies come true, and the one who hears it will almost always have a say in that. But as for Professor Trelawney's prophecy. I suspect that it contained words you had heard before because she delivered it to you, and so it would have more significance to you, even if you did not realise it at the time."

"So it didn't mean anything coming from Fudge?"

"Aside from it being a rare instance of Cornelius being appropriately, if mistakenly, proactive? I do not think so."

"Alright, thanks, Professor," Harry said, and he turned and left. That was a relief, he thought. He had enough time shenanigans going on as it was.

Minerva McGonagall sat down heavily in the Headmistress's office after lunch.

"What a mess," she said. Even though they were dealing with events from two years ago, the problems were piling up. Some of them had already been brought up during the reading, including what were, looking back, an alarming number of safety issues. If Potter's first year had been characterised by poor judgement and bad decisions on the part of the Hogwarts staff, and his second year characterised by bad decisions on Potter's own part, his third year was marred by rampant carelessness or at least sloppiness on the part of everyone involved in the face of an unfamiliar threat.

The only saving grace was that Sirius had not, in fact, been there to kill Harry Potter, for if he'd wanted to, he could have done any number of times. And as loath as she was to admit it, much of that blame could be laid squarely at the feet of Remus Lupin for not revealing the very tricks Sirius had ultimately used to infiltrate the castle.

But there was a fair share to go around for her and Albus, too. The Whomping Willow passage was a gap in their security that they should have anticipated, and it wasn't the only one.

Percy Weasley already had a plethora of notes about that year, which weren't of immediate importance, but which she was certain would be brought up to the Board of Governors soon enough. Just when she thought she might get used to the new changes at the school.

She had a feeling that things were only going to get worse by the end of the book. Just as she was equally sure that Miss Granger would have a long list of her own concerns. What she hadn't anticipated was that Potter had a list of his own when her students arrived that afternoon.

"I mean, most of these are for Sirius and Remus, Professor," Harry told her when he saw her reaction to seeing his list. "But there's one thing I really wanted to ask."

"Yes, Potter?" she said, while Percy Weasley sat at the side of the room, listening silently.

"I want to borrow the book for the night," he told her. Minerva raised her eyebrows, but he pressed on. "I didn't remember what all might be in it before. It's like the second book. You skipped some of the worst stuff about Ginny, I think? There was a lot of personal stuff in my third year that we maybe should've been skipping. I—I still don't want to stop the reading, but I thought I could read ahead and see if there's anything we ought to keep private?"

Minerva grew pensive at that, a faraway look in her eyes. "Read ahead…" she muttered to herself, and she also remembered the Occlumency lessons they had read about in the fifth book. Some of that was very personal. "Yes, I think that might be a good idea, Mr. Potter," she told him. "I am sorry that you had to hear your private memories read out today. If there are more to come, it would be better to find them and pick them out in advance—for you and your friends. I should review any changes that you make, but yes, I can loan a copy of the book to you. Just be sure to bring it back to my office before breakfast tomorrow."

She pulled the book out of her desk drawer, conjured a duplicate, applied some additional spells to ensure it would last long enough, and handed it to Harry.

"Thanks, Professor," he said.

"It is my pleasure, Potter. Now, I sense you three have some more serious concerns?"

Hermione's list, she could see from where she was sitting, was a long one, and she mentally settled in for a difficult discussion.

Hermione, for her part, turned to Percy first. She took a deep breath and said, "First of all, Azkaban is monstrous, and the use of dementors should be abolished immediately!"

"I can see—" Percy began, but Hermione spoke over him.

"It probably violates the Geneva Convention. Does the muggle Prime Minister even know?"

"I don't think—"

"I mean, Hagrid said three weeks in Azkaban left him wishing for death and saying 'I can't go back to prison' afterwards. That might be worth three years in a muggle prison!"

"Well, that's certainly—"

"Merlin, I can't believe I didn't see that before," she groused to herself. "Maybe it's because I hadn't seen enough of wizarding 'justice' yet—"

"Really, Miss Granger!"

"And that's to say nothing of the ethical and theological issues with using beings who can suck out peoples souls as prison guards—"

"HERMIONE!" Percy shouted, shutting her up and causing Harry, Ron, and even McGonagall to freeze in shock. He took a deep breath and collected himself. "Hermione, I have no reason to argue with you, but reforming Azkaban is way above my pay grade," he told her gently.

"Well, then whose bloody pay grade is it?" she snapped.

"The Wizengamot's," he said firmly, "and good luck with them. Dumbledore himself has been trying to convince them to remove the dementors from Azkaban for decades, and he hasn't succeeded."

She glared at him for a moment, but she huffed and said, "Fine," and she crossed a line off her list. She started to turn to McGonagall as she scanned the list, but then she said, "Oh!" and turned back to Percy. "One other thing about the dementors: I know this wasn't you, but having the dementors patrolling Hogsmeade looking for Sirius, that was basically a curfew on the residents—and one with life-threatening consequences for breaking it. Is that typical for the Ministry?"

Percy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Hermione, you might remember we'd never had a breakout from Azkaban before. Nothing about that case was typical. And we certainly got a lot of complaints. Fudge still talked about them every so often this year."

"Oh…of course," Hermione said, turning pink. She cross off another line and scanned the rest of her list more carefully. "One other thing, Percy, if you know it. Did anyone think it was odd that they found so little of Pettigrew? They had his robes, but almost none of his body. And what they did find was a finger and a few other 'fragments.' Did he cut off more bits of himself in that short window of time?"

"…Cut off?" Percy asked confusedly.

"Pettigrew cut off his finger to leave behind evidence to frame Sirius," Harry said, "but Hermione's right; it seems weird that he could've left behind more than a finger."

Percy shivered. "I…really don't know, Harry," he said. "As for not finding more, there are plenty of curses that could leave behind very odd remnants. But for finding more than the one piece, I have no idea, and it's…rather unsettling. I'll look into it, though. Suddenly, I'd like to know, too."

"Okay," Hermione agreed. Then she finally turned back to McGonagall. "I have a few more things, Professor—"

Minerva resisted the urge to say "Of course you do."

"—First of all, I think we should have an aptitude test for Divination before people sign up for the class. Even granting that there's some validity to it, it doesn't do much good for students who don't have the Sight." Softly, she mumbled under her breath, "Which I apparently don't."

McGonagall sighed. "That is a good idea in principle," she said, "but it would not work in practice, simply because there would not be enough students to justify the class. An identifiable aptitude for the Sight is uncommon, even at low levels."

"Besides, a Divination class is useful for its academic value even if you don't have the Sight," Percy pointed out.

"But it's not taught that way, Percy," Hermione insisted. "It's taught as a practical. Professor Trelawney expected us to perform divination for our homework and exams. And I happen to know Harry and Ron get good marks just by making up answers—"

"Oi! Don't tell them that!" Ron protested.

"Honestly, I doubt you're the only ones, Ronald. What I mean is that there are no objective standards, at least the way Professor Trelawney teaches it. In fact, come to think of it, it might be good to give people the option to switch electives instead of just dropping them like I did—"

"You didn't have any to switch to," Harry pointed out.

"Not the point, Harry," she grumbled. "The point is, even if they started late, they could still sit their O.W.L.s before they graduate and not be stuck with Professor Trelawney predicting their deaths for three years like you were."

"Ahem," McGonagall interrupted, "be that as it may, there is little that we can do at this time about the Divination class. To be frank—and I ask you not to repeat this—there were times when we considered eliminating the class entirely. However, Professor Dumbledore wishes for Professor Trelawney to stay because she rarely—very rarely—makes true prophecies. And at this point, she has nowhere else to go."

They had seen that two weeks ago when Umbridge had tried to eject her from the castle. Although only Minerva knew the full reason for keeping her around—that Voldemort wanted to get to her because of her original prophecy about Harry.

"Okay, now, there was more about the security procedures for the school…" Hermione said, and McGonagall couldn't hold back a sigh that time. "Why did Professor Dumbledore send everyone back to their dorms when the troll got loose in the castle? I know it was good for me personally, but wouldn't it have been safer to shelter in the Great Hall?"

"I asked him that this afternoon," Miss Granger, "and I will tell you the answer he gave me. It may not be the best response, or even one that I agree with, but I can understand it. Searching the castle for an intruder, even one as large as a troll, could take a long time if it were trying to evade us. We do not wish to have students bed down in the Great Hall if we can help it, and as he said this morning, a troll, though intelligent by animal standards, is only a beast. The dorms would be at least as safe against it than the Great Hall, and the risk to students was not as great as it may seem if they went as a group directly to the dorms, and escorted properly." She glanced meaningfully at the Trio, and at Percy, who had failed to keep Harry and Ron from running off that night. "It may well have been overconfidence, but we used a good deal less caution against a troll than we ever would a dark wizard."

Hermione frowned. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting there. There weren't any good answers to be had there, she thought, but against an animal attack, which was ultimately what this was, there were a lot more options than against a human criminal. She eventually shrugged an decided to move on. "Our third year," she continued, "why was everyone so worried about Harry being out on the grounds as opposed to inside the castle?"

McGonagall raised an eyebrow: "I should think that would be obvious, Miss Granger. As Professor Dumbledore said, the castle is designed to stand up to a siege. The grounds are not. And while the grounds were theoretically protected by the dementors, we knew that Sirius had already got past them once. Besides which, the patrols of the Forbidden Forest were far from airtight. We could not bring the dementors too close to the centaurs without causing greater trouble."

"But what about after Sirius had already got in?" Harry protested.

"Even then, even if the castle were not secure, it was certainly more secure than the grounds." She eyed him a bit suspiciously. "I should think that we accommodated you well enough in that year, Potter."

Harry flushed a little. "Er, yes, Professor. We just wondered…" he said.

Hermione, however, pressed on: "One other thing that year, Professor: didn't you consider that Sirius could have got into Hogwarts through the Whomping Willow passage? You knew that he knew about it, and how to work it. Professor Snape must have told you as much."

"The tree—" McGonagall began.

"Makes it hard to get out, but not to get in, Professor. You can reach the knot on the trunk from the tunnel. And Sirius was supposed to be mad. What if he didn't care about getting out again? Or, it's not even that hard if you have a wand. What if he'd stolen one?"

McGonagall frowned in thought. Percy was staring at her pointedly; though he didn't speak, his expression was enough. Finally, she said, "I would need to check with him, but I believe Professor Snape placed detection charms on that passage himself. I am certain he would trust no one else besides Professor Dumbledore with the task. But of course, he did not know to place charms against Animagi. If Sirius had changed form too close to the tree, he may have been caught in human form that way."

Suddenly, Percy cut in, "Wait, Sirius Black is an Animagus?"

"He was the 'grim' I kept seeing all that year," Harry said dismissively. "I'm sure it'll come up soon."

"What about the One-Eyed Witch's passageway?" Hermione continued.

"To my knowledge, Professor Snape never discovered how to open it," said McGonagall.

Harry groaned: "I bet he's gonna do it now."

"That is our duty as teachers, Potter," she said sharply. "Now, as for the rest of us…by rights, Remus probably ought to have done…though he may have believed like you that Sirius couldn't break into Honeydukes undetected. Do you know if Sirius ever used that passage?"

"Er, I don't think so," Harry said. "I saw him wandering the grounds as a dog—" ("Of course you did," McGonagall muttered.) "—I think he was using the Whomping Willow passage the whole time."

"Right. Was there anything else, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked.

"Er…" Hermione tapped at a couple of lines with her quill, thinking. "Just one, Professor, and I'm not sure if you're the right person to ask, but…Do you happen to know if Mad-Eye Moody's eye can see through clothes?" Percy gasped, though McGonagall only raised an eyebrow. "And also," Hermione added quickly, "even if Moody is a perfect gentleman—" (Something Harry didn't think he could say with a straight face even if it were true.) "—was Barty Crouch Junior one?"

Now, McGonagall gasped, and she and Percy looked at each other in horror. "Oh, Merlin," she breathed. "I…I will enquire with Mad-Eye myself," she said. "…Actually, I'll tell Albus to ask him. He's more likely to get an honest answer out of the man."

Harry stared at the book in his hands. He hadn't really had an opportunity to look at one up close since the Weasley Twins stole a copy of the first one from Umbridge, and he honestly hadn't looked all that close at that one. This time, he took a close look at the cover of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, wondering once again how all this could have come about, much less from the future. The front showed an illustration of him and Hermione clinging to the back of an annoyed-looking Buckbeak. (For some reason, the author's name read "J. K. Rowling" rather than "Joanne Rowling," as the teachers had said.) Meanwhile, the back had an illustration of Sirius in dog form—though it honestly looked more like a true Grim—shrouded in fog, jaws dripping with drool, and eyes milky white. There was an illustrator's name listed there and a muggle barcode.

In fact, the book was listed as being published by what he thought was a real muggle publisher, with a…was that a World Wide Web address? He only had a passing knowledge of the Internet from Dudley. There was no proper summary of the book inside or out, but the back cover had quotes from The Guardian and The Times, saying how popular the Harry Potter books were with children, parents, and teachers alike. (He wasn't enthused that The Times had said the books had "started a cult," either. He really hoped that was metaphorical.)

"…What the hell?" he muttered.

The front flap further showed that the books had won all sorts of awards, and there was another quote from The Times comparing the purported author to famous fantasy authors whom even Harry, as sheltered as he was, had heard of.

"The next Roald Dahl?" he said. "Maybe even the next Lord of the Bloody Rings?"

Harry blanched as he slowly realised that if what the book was saying was true, he was going to be even more famous in the muggle world than in the magical world! Never mind that it would be in the guise of a fictional character.

At least, he assumed it would be as a fictional character. If the books brought down the Statute of Secrecy somehow, Voldemort was going to be the least of his worries. But on that point, at least, the books were clearly marketed as fiction. And for that matter, he reflected, the later books already didn't reflect reality, from what McGonagall had said. They only recorded what was going to happen before they had changed the future.

This was getting to be too much. And he still had to read the bloody thing!

Harry had decided to read the book before contacting Sirius and Remus, since there would probably be things he would need to consult with them about in its pages. Looking at it now, he didn't think he would get through the whole thing, but he at least needed to see what they would be reading tomorrow.

And honestly, he could afford to take his chances just paging through it. He remembered what happened that year, and there was plenty he could gloss over. Plus, he still had homework to do.

"Chapter Twelve: The Patronus…" He murmured to himself, and he started in.

"Let's see…" he continued under his breath. "Mad at Hermione…get Oliver involved…Hermione figured out about Remus…the Patronus lesson…"

He lingered over the Patronus lesson, his quill poised to strike out the words of his most intimate memories, plus and his conflicted feelings about hearing his mother's voice again. He nearly did it, but two things stayed his hand. First was the fact that he'd inadvertently let the whole school hear half of the memory already. And second was that he remembered Dumbledore's advice that he ought to go ahead with teaching the DA the Patronus Charm. He still needed to do something about that, he reflected with embarrassment. He thought about it and decided he'd ask Hermione about setting it up for Thursday night. Trying it right after learning about his big encounter with the dementors at the end of Third Year might give them some better guidance.

He moved on. There wasn't much there that people didn't already know or guess. Even the fact that his happiest memory was when he'd learnt he would be able to leave Privet Drive was something that was understandable by this point.

"Hermione was in two classes at once all year—pretty obvious now that I see it…Firebolt again…Dementor's Kiss, ugh." He made a note of that. He wasn't proud that he thought that Sirius deserved the Kiss back then. Having come face-to-face with it himself, he wasn't so sure anyone that anyone deserved it now, just like Remus said—well, he'd allow Voldemort.

Neville losing the passwords was embarrassing, but everyone who was there that year knew all about that. Neville had probably guessed it was coming himself by now, and at least the book would vindicate him that Crookshanks stole them.

Crookshanks apparently eating Scabbers was even worse, but that was also something everyone knew about. (They'd certainly heard the shouting.) And it was also something that was important to the story.

When the book revealed Harry's crush on Cho at the Quidditch match, he did cross those lines out—rapidly and almost without thinking. He hadn't wanted Snape to delve into those memories in his Occlumency lessons, and he didn't want them read out to the school, either. But then he stopped, worried, and counted off chapters to figure out which teacher would be reading that one. Good: Kingsley, not Tonks. Tonks might've read it out loud anyway.

"Okay, winning the Quidditch match, knocking down Malfoy's gang…" He laughed at that memory. Then, that was the night Sirius had got into the dorm. Even reading Ron's scream of terror was alarming with how it took up two whole lines on the page! He wondered if Kingsley would be as theatrical as Flitwick was. They still hadn't told McGonagall about the secret passage to Honeydukes after that. That could cause some trouble, but it wasn't the sort of trouble that crossing out the lines would avoid.

"Buckbeak's hearing…Hagrid taking us to task about Hermione…" He didn't take that out entirely, but…maybe it was selfish, but he crossed out the most accusatory parts of the conversation. "Going to Hogsmeade again…attacking Malfoy…Snape…the Marauder's Map…"

Harry stopped and stared. Then, he cracked up and was soon laughing hysterically, so loud that it attracted Ron's attention (he thankfully being the only other one in their dorm room at the time). He couldn't help it. When he realized Tonks would be the one with the privilege to read out the Marauders' insults to Snape on the Map—that was just too good.

Ron, of course, demanded to know what was so funny. Harry started to explain, but stopped. He didn't think he'd ever told him the details of that episode, and it would be more fun to surprise him. Instead, he said, "Just wait till tomorrow, mate. Tonks' chapter is gonna be amazing."

Though Harry still hesitated at the end of that chapter. Remus's admonishment of him for sneaking out the castle…hurriedly, he crossed out the most personal parts of that conversation, too.

Buckbeak lost his hearing, of course. There was a lot speculation about Lucius Malfoy threatening the committee into taking his side (after all, he had done that to the Board of Governors), but there wasn't anything they could prove. In fact, he wasn't certain it was even true. Hagrid already wasn't fond of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creature, and he knew how even muggles like his Aunt Petunia felt about "dangerous" animals that weren't Aunt Marge's bulldogs.

"Hermione slapping Malfoy, they'd better read that," he said to himself. (It shouldn't get her in any trouble with the rules they'd agreed to so far.) "Hermione missing Charms…Trelawney's crystal gazing…Hermione walking out, that was pretty good, too…The Quidditch final…wait, there's Sirius talking to Crookshanks, then the Quidditch final." He hoped they could get some colour commentary on that. Who would be reading this chapter? Bragnam? He still didn't know much about the new History Professor. He'd done alright with the one chapter he read last week. And he was better than Binns, but there were times Harry had thought a rock would be more interesting than Professor Binns.

"Chapter Sixteen: Professor Trelawney's Prediction." If the pattern held, this would be the last chapter tomorrow. And it was just the start of that insane night. "Hermione's exams…she must've thought we were really thick…my exams…Buckbeak's appeal…Fudge…" Macnair was the executioner, and Harry now knew he was a Death Eater, apparently because he couldn't stand not killing things for that long. He was definitely someone to watch out for. "Then Trelawney's prophecy…finding Scabbers…and Buckbeak's execution."

He was startled when he read it. The book certainly made it look Buckbeak had really been killed. Even though the books were (somehow) from his point of view, it would have been obvious the anyone who was looking that Buckbeak had flown away. Wait, no, Hagrid's garden was behind his hut from where they were standing. They couldn't actually see it. But Dumbledore would have seen it and might have even suspected them. In fact, it was something they might have been able to pull off on the spot if they'd thought of it and run for the Forest afterwards.

"Okay, nothing too crazy tomorrow," Harry had to himself. He felt exhausted even though he'd only skimmed the chapters. The rest could wait. Now, he still had to talk to Sirius and Remus. He pulled out his enchanted mirror, checked to make sure only Ron was still around, and called, "Sirius Black."

Sirius soon appeared with his usual half-mad grin. "Hey there, Prongslet, how's it going?"

Harry gave him a wan smile in return. "Still completely mad, Padfoot. Is Remus there with you?"

Remus appeared, and Harry explained the situation—what had already happened and what would be coming up tomorrow.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," he said when he was done, close to tears. "All those things I thought about you—I was ready to throw you to the dementors myself."

"Hey," Sirius cut in. "I don't blame you, Harry. You were only going off what you'd been told. I would've wanted revenge, too, no matter how stupid it was."

"And it would have been stupid," Remus confirmed. "You don't go up against a supposed mass murderer as a thirteen-year-old, even if he doesn't have a wand. But as for what you were thinking, you shouldn't worry about it. For every bad thing you said about Sirius that year, I guarantee I said something worse. Not to minimise what you went through, but to you, Sirius was an abstract horror you only knew from photos. For me, he was my best friend I'd known for ten years, and then I spent the next twelve years questioning everything I thought I knew about him and wondering how I could have missed it. Plus, I know more swear words than you thanks to this idiot." He nodded in Sirius's direction.

Sirius's smile started to come back. "I've picked up some pretty good ones over the years." He drew in a breath as if to elucidate some of them, but Remus cut him off.

"Padfoot, if you teach Harry the one with a bucket of you-know-what, I will string you up so help me!"

Sirius huffed a sigh and mumbled something that sounded like "Alakazam…But really, Harry, I'm not worried about that. Merlin knows I was beating myself up worse than anyone all those years. I'm more worried about the other stuff," he continued more sharply. "Did you really have to tell everyone about the Marauder's Map?"

Harry winced. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't really think about it until they started reading about it. But I don't know if the story would really work without it. And the teachers kind of knew anyway, didn't they? Snape saw it."

Remus nodded: "That's true…" He sighed, "Which was my fault, among many other things. "And Snape already knew what it was when he confiscated it from you, though not how to work it. His hinting was clear as day to me. He'd figured out enough while we were in school."

Sirius sighed heavily. "Yeah, I guess the cat's already out of the bag, there. But hey, it's not like they can take it now; it's a family heirloom."

"I'm not sure about that," said Remus, "but at least it sounds like you've been putting it to good use with your secret defence club."

"Not it's intended use, though," Sirius said, looking pointedly at Harry.

"Padfoot…" Remus warned.

"Hey, Dumbledore knows how to take a joke. And she'll never admit it, but so does McGonagall."

"True," he admitted. "But was there anything else, Harry?"

"Er, yeah," Harry said. "About you, Remus. You didn't tell anyone about Sirius being an Animagus—or about the secret passages. They might've smoothed over the part about the passages, but the first one—will you get in trouble for that?"

"Hmm…" Remus said resignedly. "I'm not sure I'd get in any more trouble than I already did. I already quit the job. And I got a lecture from Dumbledore about not telling the truth. You know what that's like."

Harry nodded sympathetically. Dumbledore being disappointed with you could be worse than a detention with Snape.

"But I was never directly questioned by the Aurors or anything, so I didn't lie to the Ministry," he continued. "And I never directly lied at all, I think. I doubt they'll pursue anything once Sirius is declared innocent, especially with Voldemort still on their plate."

Harry relaxed a bit. At least the worst of it wouldn't cause any trouble. "That's good, then. But I had a question for you, too. Something bugged us—well, really bugged Hermione about the Patronus lessons when we thought back on them. Why did it take you until after Christmas to start them? It was only a week past Halloween when I asked you."

"Oh, right," Remus said awkwardly. "Well, part of it was I may have downplayed the difficulty of acquiring another boggart for you. I didn't mention it, but those boggart lessons really clean out the castle, especially when it's missed for a year or two, and we have to catch up. Yours wasn't the only class I did. It's a sort of an autumn cleaning service. Then, there was my teaching schedule. End of term exams right before Christmas, which was also the longest full moon of the year. It was not a good time for me. And…well, truthfully, I was hoping you would forget about the whole notion. I confess I didn't expect you to be able to pull off the Charm at all at that age. I should have known I was wrong on both counts, with you being James and Lily's son. James wouldn't have taken 'no' for an answer, and Lily was even more stubborn when she wanted to be—and she was simply too good at Charms."

Harry smiled, albeit weakly. "Lucky I got it down before my next Quidditch match, then. It was kind of short notice."

Remus winced. "Well, that's true. Though if you hadn't managed it in one month, I'm not sure you'd have had a much better chance in three months. Up until I saw you cast that first shield, I thought it was something you would have to come back to when you were older."

"Guess he showed you, huh, Moony?" Sirius said, ribbing him.

"He certainly did. Although it's not as surprising now, knowing that you can do wandless magic, Harry. You've pulled far ahead of the curriculum there."

Harry grinned more at that. And then a thought struck him: "Say, didn't you guys learn to become Animagi in your fifth—?"

"No," Remus cut him off.

Harry's mouth hung open for a moment, but he rallied: "But if even Wormtail—"

"No," Remus repeated.

Sirius shook his head: "While I'd normally tell Moony not to be a stick in the mud, I have to agree with him on that one, Prongslet. James was a transfiguration prodigy. That doesn't just mean he was better at learning it; it means he was able to fix our mistakes—and we did make mistakes. That's not the kind of thing you do without help. You are a Defence Against the Dark Arts prodigy, but you don't have the transfiguration chops to go solo. So you're not even gonna think about becoming an Animagus until summer when I'm there to supervise—" Remus coughed loudly. "—when we're there to supervise. Got it?"

"Yeah, got it" Harry said. It was just an idle thought, after all. "Anyway…" He checked his list. "Hermione was wondering how exactly you managed to owl-order my Firebolt when you were on the run. I can see the goblins not caring you were a criminal, but how did you prove the purchase was authorised or whatever?"

"Oh, that?" Sirius said in surprise. "That's a bunch of complicated paperwork that amounts to: you're on the account."

"Right. We thought it might be something like that, but how did that happen?"

"That's the complicated bit. It's because I'm your godfather, and because your parents are dead, and your official guardians are muggles, then I'm your presumptive source of funds—never mind that you've got a good inheritance yourself. It doesn't hurt that I don't have any immediate family left who could counter-claim it…My parents made me learn all this crap. The most annoying thing is it actually turned out to be useful."

"Huh. And that was good enough for the goblins?" Harry asked. "And the Firebolt Company? McGonagall said they were worried the company was in on your evil plan."

"Ha!" Sirius laughed. "That would've been fun. The criminal becomes a broom salesman. But yeah, pretty much. Since it was intended for one of the account holders, they wouldn't've cared. If it were a gift for someone else, they would have looked closer at it…probably."

Harry really felt like he needed to learn more about goblins. It sounded like there were some important practical considerations, and Binns's lectures about them were worse than useless.

"Anything else?" Sirius asked.

"Er, yeah…" Harry said awkwardly. "When you were…on the run, everyone said you were Voldemort's second-in-command. But that doesn't make sense. Wormtail wasn't that high up. I don't think any of the other Death Eaters even liked him. And no one even knew you were…you know, supposed to be a Death Eater until the war was over."

Sirius winced, but then shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? It's the press. Last scion of an old pureblood family notorious for dark magic, maybe?"

"That's probably part of it," Remus agreed. "Although I bet it was partly Fudge playing you up to make himself look better for catching you. And then when you were the first person ever to escape Azkaban…"

Sirius muttered some colourful words under his breath. (Though apparently not the ones that would see Remus stringing him up.) "I did look like a wannabe dark lord, didn't I? Huh…maybe I could—"

"No," Remus said.

"But I could be the Siriusly Black Lo—"

"No!" Remus and Harry said simultaneously.

"Fine, but it'd still be a good prank."