Chapter 77, everybody! Oh yeah we'll be eating good with this fic we've got updates clean into December now and the rest of book 5 is written out, so yay! :D

Harry not getting banned from Quidditch means that he's able to dedicate time to helping Ron get his stuff together. Also Sirius and Remus have been fun to write because my approach has been somewhat canon, definitely channeling Miguel and Tulio, Remus is the 'responsible' one but just barely. On that topic, Remus is quoting Art from Monsters University. And ah, irony.

Missy96, thanks for the review! I'm glad to be back too, and regularly besides. :D

Harry Potter © 1997 J.K. Rowling

The remainder of the semester was a busy blur, between the Hippogriff Appreciation Club, classes, and Quidditch practice that mostly involved Harry trying to get Ron to actually focus on playing instead of his blunders, with Harry playing Chaser and Snips playing the role of bludger. It had gotten to the point that Harry actually invited several Slytherin students to the pitch to sing "Weasley is our king" while they practiced.

"Seriously?" Ron demanded, gesturing at the little choir—and getting nipped on the ear by Snips during his lapse.

"You need to learn how to tune out outside sources, this is doing that," Harry told him. "Now stop me from scoring already."

The seriously busy schedule kept seeing Harry falling asleep almost immediately upon hitting the hay, although to his annoyance it wasn't a dreamless sleep—at this point he wanted to see what was in the door at the end of the hall only so the stupid dream could be resolved and he could go on to normal dreams for a change, like Quidditch or something.

"This stupid dream has been going for months now," Harry told Ron the morning they were due to take the floo back home for the holidays. "I want something different to happen, I'm sick of reruns."

"Be glad you're not having to keep a dream journal for Divination," Ron said.

"It does bear asking what it means."

"No clue—probably that you're going to croak, that was Trelawney's favorite translation before Umbridge sucked the life out of her."

"So glad I quit that class," Hermione muttered.

Harry, for his part, was thrilled to death to be back home at the Doghouse, Draco expressing his own relief by collapsing dramatically face-first on the couch.

"Playing a double-agent sucks," Draco announced.

"While on that topic, I want to hear all about this," Sirius said, grinning. "What's this I hear about you kids sticking it to the man?"

"We needed something to do while you guys went the boring legal route," Harry supplied.

"Remus why did we go the boring legal route again?"

"Because we're responsible adults and you can't go back to jail again," Remus told him.

"Right, fair reason—who's ready for hot chocolate and ugly sweaters? We're trying to get the one that makes Cissy give us the most disdainful look imaginable."

"So you admit you're doing this on purpose," Mrs. Malfoy said.

"Yes and if you were any sort of Black you'd be plotting proper revenge."

"The fact that you're not anticipating it tells me I'm doing it well enough."

"I've been trying to convince her that not responding is getting under his skin more than anything else," Remus admitted to Harry in an aside. "Not sure if it's working."

"What happened to being a responsible adult?" Harry asked, grinning.

"I'm not that responsible."

Christmas dawned bright and early and with a lot of barking and howling as Sirius woke the rest of the house up, thundering pawsteps and big thumps as he slid into walls accompanying this.

It was also something that had required Kreacher's help, Kreacher informed Harry as he plated breakfast, mostly because Sirius hadn't been confident in his ability to be up that early.

"Otherwise I'm reasonably sure I would have slept until noon," Sirius admitted, tugging Snips back from taking a header into his saucer of coffee and dodging a halfhearted nip from the still-drowsy familiar.

"Kreacher feels Master Sirius should drop the reasonably from that phrase," Kreacher said, maneuvering around him as he served coffee.

"Probably."

"Thank you, Kreacher," Remus said, accepting the mug of coffee Kreacher steered into his hand. "I used to be more energetic Christmas morning, what happened?"

"You got old, Moony," Sirius told him.

"So did you."

"Only a little—you went and got respectable jobs and such."

"I tried, and last I checked you were the one who did the hard living of prison life."

"True…is it too early for us to have mid-life crises? Crisises? How do you say that?"

"Crises, and we're in our thirties, Padfoot—I don't intend to be dying in my sixties, that's too young."

"I mean it could be old, but then again we'd be missing out on being old fogies like Dumbledore, and I'm looking forward to being eccentric."

"You're eccentric now," Narcissa said, looking bleary as she picked at her eggs.

"True—we need to grow out our beards, Moony."

"No. Because then your next suggestion will be that we form a band, and I don't want to."

"And why not?"

"What sort of demand is there for a band featuring a zither?"

Sirius considered this. "We'll say it's alt-punk or whatever they're calling the music now. That's a thing, right?" he asked Harry.

"Is it?" Harry asked Draco.

"I guess people are still listening to classical music," Draco said.

"They are," Kreacher confirmed; looked up at them all staring at him. "Kreacher has tastes."

It took a beat for them to agree and decide that they hadn't had enough coffee yet for these realizations.

Diving into Christmas presents waited until after breakfast when they were all fully awake—Harry happily pulled on his new Weasley Christmas sweater and laughed at the Malfoys getting ones for themselves.

"I am not wearing this at school," Draco said, looking down at the green sweater with a little silver snake knitted on the front. "Or anywhere I'll be seen in public."

"Is that Malfoy for I like it?" Harry teased. "And you know you'll have your robes on over it at school, right?"

"It's the principle of it."

"Also this one's for you, Harry," Sirius said, handing Harry a box—he unwrapped it, pulled out a mirror.

"I've tried straightening my hair out, it doesn't work," Harry said, looking into it.

"You got James' hair, that was always going to be a losing battle," Remus said.

"True, but that's not why you got that," Sirius said, pulling a similar mirror out of his bathrobe pocket. "Found these while Kreacher and I were going through everything and debating on what was coming in the house, watch—Harry Potter."

The mirror in Harry's hand buzzed, swirled a little—showed Sirius in it instead of Harry.

"Wicked!" Harry exclaimed.

"Isn't it? James and I used these when we were in separate detentions, not sure if they got the range but we can test it when you get back to Hogwarts and work around the toad intercepting the mail."

Ah, there went his good mood. "How is that going, by the way?"

"Slowly—Fudge has been working overtime in the bribery department despite the bad press getting out and Mrs. Longbottom going after him—that woman is scary."

"If that man put as much energy into shoring up the country's defense as he is sticking his head in the sand, Moldy-Voldy wouldn't stand a chance," Remus sighed.

"As it is, I vote we point Mrs. Longbottom at Moldy-Voldy and let her have at it. Ten galleons says he doesn't last a minute."

"That reminds me, any news on the taboo?" Harry asked the Malfoys. "I'm with Blaise on this, I want to see how Fred and George's plan pans out."

The adults learning of what the plan entailed had the expected responses, and by the time Narcissa was threatening the Marauders with the unbreakable vow Harry and Draco opted to check in on Buckbeak and engage the neighbors in snow-based warfare.

Ginny was still the scariest one to go up against, Harry decided that evening.