Between Magic and Mount Justice HP/Young Justice Xover

[MrRigger2]

Part Seventy!

Spoiler: show

It had taken a couple days to get the paper trail set up for Mal’s employment, but in the end, Harry was confident that Mal wasn’t going to be able to figure out his identity, not through looking at his paystub, at least.

With the new equipment and tools, Harry was confident Mal would be able to make some real progress, especially since Karen was joining the Team as Bumblebee. That was enough enticement all itself to get the Stingers to work as a ranged option.

Harry was also putting out feelers to get the prototype Stingers marketed. His first thought had been to look to the military and government contracts, but an offhand comment by Dick had made him think about marketing to the civilian market as well. Given how often super-criminals and their minions attacked fundraisers and parties in Gotham, Harry could see quite a few of the Gotham Socialites buying a pair of opera gloves that doubled as a taser. He’d just have to make sure they were seen as fashionable.

Batman had allowed him back into the Gotham patrols, after the success with Atom’s research. Fortunately, Gotham was fairly quiet. Joker was taking a vacation in Arkham, and Penguin was down with a bad case of multiple broken bones, courtesy of Harrier’s last visit.

Gotham’s court system may be too crooked to ever lock Penguin up, but that didn’t mean there was nothing Harry could do about his criminal activities.

A few of the other Rogues were making noise, but nothing out of the ordinary. It looked like Riddler was gearing up for a heist, and Two Face was making moves against Penguin’s men in the Bowery, but it didn’t seem like it was going to erupt any time soon. Just Gotham politics at work.
Karen was fitting in well with the Team. It helped that she already knew M’gann and Connor from school, and they helped her ease into the Team nicely.

While she was certainly athletic enough from her time as a cheerleader, that still didn’t make her ready for combat. Black Canary and Robin were running her through an intensive training course, with Aqualad helping prepare her for superpowered fights. Mal even joined her most days, when he wasn’t in his lab with Wally and Red Tornado. She was doing well, but it was clear she’d never be a front line fighter. Fortunately, with her abilities, she shouldn’t ever have to.

It wasn’t until the latter half of July that Batman called the Team in for their next mission.

0oOo0

“There’s a new player in the corporate espionage game,” Batman started as the Team assembled. “We don’t know who they are, but they are working for the highest bidder.”

“And this involves us because?” Artemis asked. “Companies sabotage each other all the time.”

“Normally, it wouldn’t be something the Team would investigate. But in this case, the highest bidder is one of the members of the Light. Lex Luthor.”

Luthor’s picture appeared on the holographic display and several windows of data opened beside it. “These are the companies that have been attacked that directly benefit Lex’s holdings.” Three more windows opened. “These we can reasonably attribute to our saboteur, but don’t appear to be connected to Luthor. We believe that the notoriety from these jobs led Luthor to hiring our saboteur.”

A map appeared, and the attacks were marked off and labeled. “All the attacks have been in Western Europe, and most of them have been located in France. For this reason, we believe the saboteur is based there. Furthermore, the timing of the attacks suggests that there should be another within the next twenty-four hours.”

The images were wiped away, and profiles for three companies appeared. “We believe these companies are the next most likely targets, based on Luthor’s patterns and the saboteur’s previous actions. Aqualad, divide the Team into squads and stake out these companies. This is a reconnaissance mission, so we’re staying quiet. If you do your jobs right, the saboteur will never know they’ve been made.”

Batman nodded once at Aqualad and started walking to the Zeta Tubes. With the mission briefing given, his job was done. It was up to the Team to get the job done.

Aqualad moved to take Batman’s place. “Alpha Squad will be Robin, Rocket, and myself. We will cover Saint-Gobain. Harrier, Kid Flash, Artemis, and Zatanna, you’re Beta Squad. You’ll cover Areva. Superboy, Miss Martian, Bumblebee, and Batgirl will be Gamma Squad, covering Safran. Mal, I want you to coordinate the comms from here. If something goes down with one squad, the others need to know about it immediately.”

Kid Flash pumped his fist and shot a smile at Artemis. Conventional thinking wouldn’t have people in a relationship working together, but they were one of the best pairs the Team had. Even better than Miss Martian and Superboy, even if they brought less collective firepower to the table.

And conventional thinking didn’t really apply to a team of teenaged superheroes anyways.

Short, but it's mostly setup. Apologies.

MrRigger

[jgkitarel]

I take it that Harry will get an early introduction to the French magical populace, as well as running into Hermione during one of her summer trips? Also, the fact that it is in France, there is a possibility of Harry running into the Delacours.

[MrRigger2]

Close, but no cigar, jgkitarel.

Part Seventy-One!

Spoiler: show

Harry breathed in the smell of the coffee in front of him. Overpriced, but good. Besides, it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. He was sitting at an outdoor table in the café across the street from Areva’s headquarters, keeping watch on the public entrance and enjoying the beautiful afternoon. With a generous tip to the waiter, he’d be able to stay here as long as he needed.

“Explain to me again how it is that you’re the one down there relaxing and I’m stuffed in the back of a van?” Wally asked over the comm. He was watching the parking structure and the camera feeds from inside the building, and wasn’t happy about it.

Artemis and Zatanna groaned in unison, making Harry smirk. It wasn’t the first time Wally had brought this up. “Because I speak enough French to order a cup of coffee and not make a fool of myself. If we were in Rome, you’d still be in the back of the van, but it’d be Zatanna down at the café,” Harry said into his cup. “It’s not my fault you never took the time to study a foreign language.”

“Hey, I’ve done my two years of a foreign language for school!” Wally protested.

“I’ve seen the remarks your Spanish teacher left on your report cards,” Harry said. “I would not call what you did studying.”

“Hey!”

“Give it up, babe,” Artemis chuckled from where she was watching the roofs. “Remember the last time you tried to seduce me in Spanish?”

“…You laughed so hard we got kicked out of the restaurant.”

“You didn’t tell me about that,” Zatanna pouted over the radio. She was covering the alleys. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“Well, at the time, I thought I’d be a good girlfriend and spare Wally’s feelings,” Artemis said. “But looking back on it, it’s really just too good not to share.”

“How is it that I’m somehow always the butt of the joke around here?” Wally asked, exasperated.

“You make it too easy,” Artemis said immediately.

“You act like a clown, so people laugh at you,” Zatanna said without hesitation.

“The fact that you still deny magic every chance you get forces me to mess with you whenever I can,” Harry concluded, hiding his mirth behind a WayneTech tablet.

“Look, just because it looks like magic doesn’t mean it is magic,” Wally started.

“Not this again,” Zatanna groaned.

“You’ve got to admit, though, he’s dedicated,” Harry said. “I mean, he’s worked with three magic users for years now. You’d think he’d give it up after a while.”

“We can only dream,” Zatanna sighed.

“So anyways!” Artemis shouted over the rest of them, eager to get away from the conversation. It was one she’d heard all too many times. “Do we have any clue as to who we’re actually looking for?”

“Young, most likely,” Harry said. “Early twenties, maybe a little younger.”

“Inexperienced, since the break-ins matching this MO only started a few weeks ago,” Wally agreed. “They’re good, but we can expect some rookie mistakes.”

“We can hope for rookie mistakes, but we can’t expect anything. They haven’t been caught yet for a reason,” Harry put in.

“Yeah, and the reason is that we weren’t on the case before now,” Zatanna said, and Harry could hear her cocky smirk over the radio. Her confidence was a little infectious, and Harry caught himself smiling along.

“Harry?”

Harry looked up from the tablet and glanced around. He recognized that voice.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” Hannah Abbot was waving at him from across the street. He waved back, and she took that as an invitation to cross the street.

“Off comm, I’ve been recognized,” Harry said quickly as he killed the radio in his ear. “Hey, Hannah, what are you doing in Paris?”

“I’m here with my parents,” Hannah said as she made it to his table, her bright yellow sundress bouncing slightly. “I told you that my parents did a lot of business in France, I know I did. I usually only spend about two weeks of summer vacation at home in Britain.” She waved at a couple across the street. “Mom, Dad, come meet Harry!”

The couple crossed the street with a little more caution than Hannah, who was taking a seat at Harry’s table. Hannah’s father was dressed in the eye searing clash of colors Harry had come to expect from wizards trying to blend in with Muggles, but at least all his clothes fit the right gender. Her mother was dressed in a fairly fashionable white dress that advertised a goodly amount of cleavage and promised good things for Hannah in the years to come.

“Mom, Dad, this is Harry Potter,” Hannah said. “Harry, meet my mom and dad.”

“Pleased to meet you, Harry,” Mr. Abbot said. “Victor Abbot, and this is my wife, Nicole.”

“Enchanté, Monsieur Potter,” Mrs. Abbot said. “It is good to see you at last. My daughter writes home about you often.”

“Mom!” Hannah blushed.

“You do, do you not? You write home about all your friends,” Mrs. Abbot grinned. It was a grin that said she knew exactly what she had just implied.

“It’s good to meet you, Mr. Abbot, Madame Abbot,” Harry cut in. “You’ve raised a lovely daughter.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Abbot said, pleased.

“You didn’t answer my question, Harry, what are you doing in Paris?” Hannah pressed.

“Well, right now, I’m having a coffee and catching up on the business section,” he said, gesturing at the table in front of him.

Hannah huffed. Her mother made a gentle motion and Hannah stopped. “While our cafés are certainly a treat, I was under the impression that you lived in America.”

“Bruce had some meetings here, and I’ve never been to Paris before, so I decided I’d tag along and see the city.” The lie rolled off his tongue easily.

Mrs. Abbot smiled. “Well, I can’t blame you for wanting to see the City of Lights. How long are you here for?”

“Not long, Bruce is flying out in the morning. I figured I’d go see the Eiffel Tower at night, or maybe take in a show.”

“Oh, that’s hardly enough time to experience Paris,” Mrs. Abbot said. “Victor, you wouldn’t mind if Hannah and I took Monsieur Potter on a tour to see Paris through the eyes of a true Parisian, would you?”

Mr. Abbot frowned. “Well, I do have some things I need to take care of, but today was supposed to be our day out together. Are you just going to run out on me like that?”

“Of course not, Victor, but you’d just slow us down,” Mrs. Abbot said fondly. “You’re a terrible tourist.”

“Well, an afternoon with two lovely ladies sounds wonderful, but actually, Mr. Abbot, I should speak with you before I go,” Harry said, sipping at his coffee. “And your wife, too, of course. I sent you an Owl the night before I left Gotham, but I suppose you haven’t received it yet. The Atlantic isn’t an easy crossing.”

Mr. Abbot raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

Harry set his cup down in front of him with a soft plink. “It’s something that might change your mind about letting me tour Paris with your family, I’ll admit.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be looking to court my daughter, would you?” Mr. Abbot asked.

“Dad!”

“I admit, we aren’t normally all that old-fashioned, but I think I like the idea of a suitor coming to ask my permission,” Mr. Abbot said, nodding his head.

Harry held up a hand. “That’s… that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Hannah is a great girl, and always a pleasure to spend time with, but no. That’s not what I need to discuss with you.”

The humor left Mr. Abbot’s face. “Really? So what can I do for you?”

“Well, I had wanted to do this in an office environment, but I’m looking to expand some of my business interests into the wizarding world.”

Mr. Abbot smiled again. “And you would like me to lend you a helping hand? Act as a mentor, or perhaps invest a little capital? Well, I’d have to hear your proposal, but I don’t see why not. Lay it on me, young man.”

Harry shook his head. “Capital is not a problem, Mr. Abbot, and no offense intended, sir, but Bruce Wayne is my business mentor. You may have heard of him, Bruce has been working with Bertrand MacMillan to expand the MacMillan interests in the Muggle World. I’m looking to go the other way, and I’d like to start with you.”

“What are you getting at, young man?”

“To put it simply, Mr. Abbot, I’d like to buy your business.”

Mr. Abbot clearly wasn’t expecting that, and the shock was painted across his face. He laughed nervously. “Good joke, young man, I wasn’t expecting that. Very good joke.”

“It’s no joke, Mr. Abbot. If there was a proper stock exchange for magical businesses, I probably would have bought you out already.”

“Now see here, young man, I’m sure you think you’re being funny, but what you’re talking about is no laughing matter.”

“And I’m not laughing, Mr. Abbot. I’ve done my research, and I’m prepared to offer you a fair price.”

“What makes you think I’m interested in selling my company at all?” Mr. Abbot was getting upset. “Why would I sell a company that my great-grandfather started?”

“As I said, Mr. Abbot, I’ve done my research. While your business has remained steady here in France, you’ve been losing money in Britain for years. You’re being pushed out by Edward Nott, who’s been undercutting your prices for more than a decade. Given that he has a place on the Wizengamot, while your family does not, he’s also been able to more readily manipulate the recent trade agreements. These things are not your fault, but they have been hurting your business. I want to help change that.”

“Harry, what are you doing?” Hannah hissed.

“I’m trying to help your family, Hannah,” Harry said. “I’m not looking to drive your family out of business, I’m looking to help you. Obviously, I’m still in school, so I couldn’t devote the time necessary to personally run your business, Mr. Abbot. I would own the company, but I would leave you where you are, to let you run the company. You obviously have the experience. The difference would be that I would be the one assuming the financial risk.”

“Why are you doing this, Monsieur Potter?” Mrs. Abbot asked. “What is driving you to do this?”

“In part, it’s because I count Hannah as a friend, and I want to make sure my friends have good lives. But a bigger part is that while I like the Magical World, Madame, but it’s not a perfect place to live. It has its flaws, just as the Muggle World has its flaws. I would like to do my part to fix these flaws. Being the Boy-Who-Lived has afforded me fame, but as far as I can tell, no real power to effect change, even after I get older, and I sincerely doubt the people who would stop me from making the changes care at all about any success I may have in the muggle business world. So the next step I see is to succeed in wizarding business.”

Harry paused to take a breath, and saw the Abbots exchanging looks. “I want you to help me on this. Let me buy your business, and you’ll get in on the ground floor of something the wizarding world has never experienced. I’ll pump money into your company and give you the tools necessary to make it a success beyond your wildest dreams. But that success is just the beginning. Work with me, and together, we’ll change the world.”

“I…” Mr. Abbot was gobsmacked. “I need some time to think it over.”

Harry nodded. “I understand, it’s a lot to take in. But the sooner I get an answer, the sooner we can both start making money.”

“I’ll…I’ll get you an answer by the end of the week.”

“I appreciate that. I was going to wait until the last week of August to do my school shopping, but I can move that up if it’s convenient for you. The school lists should be in by the first, so why don’t we meet in Diagon Alley then? One p.m. outside Flourish and Blotts on August 1st, if that’s agreeable? We can go over any questions you might have, and you can give me your answer then. That should give you a few extra days to get everything in order, and if everything goes well, we can get the paperwork signed that afternoon.”

Mr. Abbot frowned, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Yes, I believe that will work. I’ll see you on the first, Mr. Potter. Hannah, Nicole, let’s get going.”

They both said quick goodbyes and were gone swiftly. Harry tapped his communicator and it turned on. “I’m clear. What’d I miss?”

“Only everything,” Wally said. “Zatanna saw someone suspicious enter the building, but they hit a blind spot in the cameras on their exit and they haven’t shown up again.”

“Do you need me to go in?”

“Artemis is already inside,” Zatanna said.

As if on cue, Artemis’s voice sounded over the radio. “It’s a bust, guys. I don’t know where they went, but they’re not here anymore.”

Harry cursed and opened up a direct channel to Mal. “Mal, tell the rest of the groups that we got a lead on the target, but they’ve disappeared. Nowhere to be found.”

Mal confirmed, and then there was a minute of silence. “Aqualad says get whatever evidence you can and pack it in. We’re done here.”

So, this one kind of got away from me. Any comments would be greatly appreciated.

MrRigger

[DIT_grue]

“The fact that you still deny magic every chance you get makes me forces me to mess with you whenever I can,”

Delete one of 'makes me'/'forces me'.

Nitpick aside, I'm not seeing any problems overall, and I'm enjoying your story a lot.

[MrRigger2]

Part Seventy-Two!

Spoiler: show

It hadn’t taken long to pack up and get the Team back to Mount Justice. Artemis and Wally were running the debriefing.

“Zatanna saw the target enter the building, and I tracked her on the security cameras,” Wally said. “The target made her way into an employee restricted area of the building and accessed a computer.”

Artemis struck a few keys and pulled up video of the saboteur sitting at a desk. It wasn’t really easy to get any real features from the video, and the saboteur had taken steps to hide her identity. A head wrap covered her hair and changed the apparent shape of her head, and a pair of oversized sunglasses further obscured her identity. If Robin hadn’t been able to analyze her walk from the video, the heavy clothes probably would have prevented them from pinning down a gender.

The saboteur plugged in a flash drive and sat back. “From what we can tell, the flash drive did the work, and copied the drive containing information for Areva’s new clean energy program,” Artemis narrated.

“Once she left, I followed her on camera for about thirty seconds,” Wally said. “She ducked into a women’s bathroom and I lost her.”

“That’s when I entered the building,” Artemis said. “When I got to the bathroom, it was empty. We don’t know what happened from there, but she never showed up on camera again. I checked the ceiling, the vents, everything. As far as I can tell, she just disappeared, because she didn’t use the door, and there’s no sign that she exited the room another way.”

“Good work,” Batman rumbled. “You all did an admirable job today, and consider this saboteur officially on the Team’s radar as far as threat tracking.”

0oOo0

“I think that covers all the details,” Harry said as he signed his name to the bottom of the contract. After Mr. Abbot officially agreed to Harry’s proposal, they had walked down to Mr. Abbot’s office, above one of the Diagon shops.

“I believe it does,” Mr. Abbot agreed. “I admit, I never thought I would be doing something like this, but I think this partnership is going to be good for both of us.” He signed his name to the last page, and sat back in his office chair. “So, what do you think of the business with Sirius Black?”

“What business?” Harry asked as he accepted a butterbeer.

“You haven’t heard? Sirius Black escaped Azkaban!”

Harry popped the cap off the bottle. “Isn’t Azkaban supposed to be unescapable?”

Mr. Abbot nodded. “It is, so nobody knows how he might have done it. No question of what he’s trying to do, though.”

“Really? What’s that?”

“He’ll be looking to bring back You-Know-Who, of course,” Mr. Abbot said as he poured himself a scotch. “Did…don’t you know Black’s story? What he did?”

Harry shook his head. “I might have heard the name before, but I don’t know his history, no.”

Mr. Abbot sighed. He looked at his drink for a moment then added another finger of scotch. Abandoning the formal bearing he had been employing throughout the meeting, Mr. Abbot dropped into the chair, almost slouching.

Harry started to say something, but Mr. Abbot just held up a finger. “I never really knew Sirius Black personally, you see. I think he was a First Year when I was taking my N.E.W.T.s, and being in a different house, I never interacted with him. But the Black Family has always been as Dark as can be, as long as anybody can remember. So it shouldn’t be a surprise, Black being a Death Eater, but as I understand it, he had a lot of people fooled.”

Mr. Abbot sipped his scotch before continuing. “I wasn’t here for most of the war, understand. My parents were killed in the early days, before we understood just how dangerous You-Know-Who really was. Too much reminded me of them here in Britain, so I went to France to manage the business from there. I was going to come back, to do my part, but I met Nicole and fell in love, and I didn’t want to start a family in that kind of environment. It wasn’t until after You-Know-Who was defeated that we came back. But everyone heard what happened with Sirius Black.”

Mr. Abbot took a long drink and shook his head. “Sirius Black looked like he was going to be one of the rare good eggs that came out of the Black family. Had a lot of good people fooled, including Dumbledore, from what I’m told. It wasn’t until after You-Know-Who was gone that we even found out about his treachery. It was losing his master that drove him over the edge, I think. Killed thirteen people with one curse.”

“Thirteen?” Harry blurted, incredulous.

Mr. Abbot nodded. “Blasted one of his oldest friends to smithereens, and took out a dozen Muggles at the same time. And then he just laughed. Didn’t even put up a fight when the Aurors came to get him, just kept laughing. Laughed all the way to Azkaban, or so the story goes.”

Harry thought about the kind of people who would laugh after murdering thirteen people. It was a short list, and all of them belonged in Arkham.

Mr. Abbot drained his glass. “And now he’s escaped Azkaban. Harry, do you understand what that means?”

“I think so.”

“Harry, there are only two reasons a madman like Black would break out of Azkaban. Either he wants to find a way to bring his master back, or he’s looking for revenge.”

“You mean me.”

Mr. Abbot nodded. “I don’t see any other explanation. You need to be extremely careful, Harry. I doubt Black would follow you all the way across the Atlantic, but if he can break out of Azkaban, then there’s little doubt in my mind that he can break into Hogwarts. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, and don’t put yourself in a position where Black could get you.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Abbot, I’ll be careful as can be.”

Sure you will, Harry. Sure you will.

MrRigger

[MrRigger2]

Part Seventy-Three!

Spoiler: show

Harry stuffed his carry on onto the luggage rack above the seats and sat down with Hermione and Neville.

“So, why’d you want to sit with us, Harry?” Neville asked nervously.

“Why, do you not want me here?” Harry asked, joking.

“Oh, no, no, it’s just, you’ve got so many friends, I didn’t know why you’d want to sit with someone like me,” Neville said.

“Something happened over the summer that made Hannah a little awkward around me, so I figured I’d save everyone the trouble and find somewhere else to sit,” he explained. “And I didn’t think Hermione would mind sharing a compartment with me, since she hardly ever bites my head off when I sit with her in the Library.”

“Well, if you didn’t move my books, I wouldn’t have to say anything,” Hermione reasoned.

“I wouldn’t need to move your books if you didn’t try to take over the entire table,” Harry retorted. “I’m all for academic accomplishment, but no Second Year needs an entire table to contain their research.”

“Honestly, just because I like doing my essays properly,” Hermione started.

“There’s a difference between proper and overkill, Hermione,” Harry interrupted. “You’re a smart girl, you should know that.”

“So, what classes are you taking this year, Harry?” Neville asked, desperate to get away from the impending argument.

“Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes. What about you?”

“Um, Divination and I guess I’ll be in Care of Magical Creatures with you.”

“And what about you, Hermione, did you ever make a decision about what classes to take?” Harry asked. “Or did you just decide to say screw the odds, I’ll do them all?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I will be taking Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures as my electives, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to make fun of me just because I take my schooling seriously, thank you very much,” she said crisply.

“Um, did either of you…” Neville’s voice trailed off.

“What was that, Neville?” Hermione asked, leaning his direction.

“Did either of you figure out how to open the book?” Neville blushed beet red and ducked his head down, embarrassed.

Hermione’s face fell. “No, I didn’t. It was so bad I ended up having to Spellotape it shut, or it would have eaten the rest of my books. I’m going to be so behind when class starts, I know it.”

“You’ve got to pet it,” Harry said. “Stroke the spine, and it’ll calm right down.”

Hermione furrowed her brow and pulled the Monster Book of Monsters out of her bulging bag, still wrapped up tight in Spellotape. The book vibrated in her grasp, growling and trying to go for a finger. She rubbed her hand along the book’s spine, and it started to purr. Emboldened, she carefully unwrapped the Spellotape, petting the book the entire time. Once free of the tape, the book fell open.

Hermione looked up at Harry, confused. “How’d you figure that out?”

0oOo0

“I think this belongs to you.”

Harry dropped the edge of the couch and stood up. Connor was standing in front of him, holding a calm and cooperative Monster Book of Monsters.

“Where’d you find it? And why isn’t it trying to eat you?”

“M’gann and I were in her room…” Connor winced, no doubt in response to a mental shout. “…Exchanging brownie recipes…and it wandered in. Started chewing on my toes. I think it’s teething or something.”

“How’d you get it to stop?”

“Petted it. I do the same thing with Wolf whenever he chews on me. It’s kind of cute.”

0oOo0

“Don’t ask. Just don’t ask.”

Hermione shrugged. “Well, however you did it, thank you. Now, I need to read this, because I haven’t had a chance to study it at all this summer, and that’s just unacceptable.”

“Okay. You have fun with that.”

“Harry? I’ve got Exploding Snap in my bag, if you want to play?”

“Sure, Neville, let’s play.”

0oOo0

A few hours later, they had finished playing Exploding Snap, run through a few games of Gobstones, and had moved on to Slapjack, since Harry had a deck of regular cards.

Harry and Neville were halfway through the second game when the train started slowing down. “Why are we slowing down? Hermione, put the book down.” Harry tapped her on the foot to get her attention.

“Huh? What’s going on?”

“We’re stopping. What would stop the Express?” Harry asked.

“Something on the tracks, maybe?” Hermione suggested.

“Maybe someone got hurt?” Neville murmured.

The sounds of the train wound down, and the wind and the rain howled outside. The train stopped with a jolt, and luggage fell down from the racks as the lights went out all at once.

“Oww…” Neville groaned from the floor.

“Oh no, I think my bag fell on his head,” Hermione gasped.

Harry turned away from the door to check on Neville. There were enough people in the hall that he’d hear about whatever was happening.

“Alright Neville, look at me, let’s see that head.”

As Harry moved Neville’s hair out of the way so he could examine the bump under Hermione’s wandlight, he heard screams.

At first, he thought someone was screaming in the hall, but then he realized it was a screaming in his head.

“What the hell?” Someone was coming in the door.

No.

Something was coming in the door.

Tall, taller than the doorway, covered in a black cloak. The air dropped fifteen degrees as it drew in a rattling breath, and the cold went deeper than Harry’s skin, down to his bones, down to his heart.

A Dementor.

Harry had seen references to them the year before. The description had stuck with him. Dementors forced you to relive your worst memories just by being near you. The ones that kept you up at night, made you wake up screaming, drove you mad.

And Harry had so many to choose from.

He tried to make a plan, but the cold was numbing his thoughts, chilling him as surely as being frozen by Mr. Freeze.

The Dementor was reaching for him with a grey, rotting hand, and the hand swelled until it was Bane’s hand crushing the life out of him.

‘No, it’s not real.’ He reached for his wand, but Poison Ivy’s plants were there, wrapping around his wrist, dragging him across the floor to her precious babies.

No, it wasn’t vines, it was Hermione, she’d grabbed onto him as she whimpered. But the whimper grew into a laugh, a laugh that pierced the soul, Joker’s laugh overlapped with his victims as they laughed themselves to death.

‘It’s just a memory, just a memory.’

Neville was on the ground to his right, but it wasn’t Neville, it was Dudley, and the bump on his head was a bullet hole, the one Penguin had put there when Harry hadn’t been able to do anything but watch.

‘I don’t have to just watch anymore…’ He pointed his wand at the Pengui- at the Dementor. He tried to conjure flame to drive off the cold, but the blue fire sputtered and died as it hit the ground.

The rain howled outside the train car, just like it rained at Kent’s grave, and he heard Klarion cackling.

The rain slowed to a steady drip, blood dripping from Two-Face’s knuckles as he flips his coin, and he didn’t need to see it to know it came up scarred. He smiles, and looks at Nevill- the officer tied to the chair. He is going to die unless Harry does something… ‘He did die, because this is just a memory…’

The officer’s screams fade and the screams on the train build, and Neville is going to die screaming, just like Scarecrow’s victims died screaming…

…no.

Neville wasn’t going to die here.

He’d failed in the past, but that didn’t matter here.

Harry had dropped his wand at some point, but that didn’t mean he was defenseless.

Harry kicked the rotted hand away from Neville and cast out his right hand. “NEMOD ENOGEB!”

A white light flared in Harry’s palm, and the compartment was suddenly as bright as day. The Dementor was pushed back by the light, and was banished entirely as a wave of power erupted from the light.

The light faded, and Hermione stared at him in shock. “What was that?”

“I…I’m not completely sure.”

I know I don't get many comments, but I'm really interested in seeing what people think of the last section of this one. I want to make sure I got it right.

MrRigger

EDIT: Major edits to the Dementor scene.

[Ristridin]

To be honest, the overall feeling I get is 'Harry stays mostly rational when he recognizes the Dementor, then suddenly falls prey to even worse memories than canon, but suddenly, he ignores it all, and on top of that pulls out an ability that instantly drives off one of the more horrible beings in existence'. So sort of a double mood-whiplash there, followed by Harry getting a new ability and falling unconscious. The fall-out from the reveal of his anti-Dementor ability may be interesting (depending on how it compares to a Patronus), but for this scene, it doesn't feel all that interesting/believable. I'll try to go in more detail than this. My apologies if it comes across as overly harsh.

Let's see... First of all, I wonder if all those flash-backs are real memories. "And then it wasn’t Harry screaming, it was the screams of every one of Gotham’s victims filling Harry’s ears, accusing him, blaming him, drowning him in darkness." sounds more like a fear than a memory. Not escaping from man-eating plants, and being covered in ice sound rather lethal, also making them somewhat unlikely as a memory; in reality, he likely did escape.

The latter two probably aren't really his worst memories either. If Harry's goal is to save people, the 'other people dying' sounds a whole lot worse than 'nearly dying himself' (in fact, Canon!Harry didn't mind risking death in order to save others; this may be part of the reason why Harry remembering these things feels out of character (which is probably mostly a flaw on my side; this is not quite Canon!Harry after all)). This may not be a problem though. If I'm not mistaken, Dementors don't actually force you to remember your worst memory as Harry claims; they simply suck away all your happiness. So simply reliving bad memories would be quite possible.

The part that really irks me though is Harry's comeback. The deeper Canon!Harry got into his visions, the closer he came to passing out. He had to fight from the start not to get drawn in. If this Harry wasn't strong enough to resist from the start (even though he has stronger mental resilience if I remember correctly, and already knows what a Dementor does), suddenly channelling resolve (effectively turning his worst memory into his greatest strength) and snapping out of it seems off (I was considering to argue that remembering that he would always get back up from the darkness could be considered happy and therefore impossible, but that's probably too far-fetched). And then he follows it up by getting a non-Patronus ability to banish a being like a Dementor.


This is subjective, but I think I would be much more convinced by this scene if Harry either passed out because of the even worse memories (failing to gather his resolve), or if he had been resisting getting drawn in by the memories from the start (for example, by focussing on neutral thoughts like his resolve to help/never give up, while flashes of his worst memories shine through. Maybe starting off with the memories of his near-death, then building up towards the worse memories of other people dying as the Dementor gets closer). In the latter case, if Harry then pulls out his anti-Dementor ability, things would feel more balanced.

[MrRigger2]

To be honest, the overall feeling I get is 'Harry stays mostly rational when he recognizes the Dementor, then suddenly falls prey to even worse memories than canon, but suddenly, he ignores it all, and on top of that pulls out an ability that instantly drives off one of the more horrible beings in existence'. So sort of a double mood-whiplash there, followed by Harry getting a new ability and falling unconscious. The fall-out from the reveal of his anti-Dementor ability may be interesting (depending on how it compares to a Patronus), but for this scene, it doesn't feel all that interesting/believable. I'll try to go in more detail than this. My apologies if it comes across as overly harsh.

I'm looking for criticism. Can't grow as a writer without it.

Let's see... First of all, I wonder if all those flash-backs are real memories. "And then it wasn’t Harry screaming, it was the screams of every one of Gotham’s victims filling Harry’s ears, accusing him, blaming him, drowning him in darkness." sounds more like a fear than a memory. Not escaping from man-eating plants, and being covered in ice sound rather lethal, also making them somewhat unlikely as a memory; in reality, he likely did escape.

You'd think they were lethal, but people have been frozen by Mr. Freeze in just about every canon and come out okay. Batman has also survived being eaten by Poison Ivy's plants, usually by cutting himself out/someone else cutting him out. Being in the presence of the Dementor, however, would keep Harry from remembering that he got himself free.

The latter two probably aren't really his worst memories either. If Harry's goal is to save people, the 'other people dying' sounds a whole lot worse than 'nearly dying himself' (in fact, Canon!Harry didn't mind risking death in order to save others; this may be part of the reason why Harry remembering these things feels out of character (which is probably mostly a flaw on my side; this is not quite Canon!Harry after all)). This may not be a problem though. If I'm not mistaken, Dementors don't actually force you to remember your worst memory as Harry claims; they simply suck away all your happiness. So simply reliving bad memories would be quite possible.

The theme I was going for with Harry's worst memories was a theme of failure. Failure to protect himself, and failure to protect others. Would switching the order up help matters?

As for Dementors forcing you to remember your worst memory, that is how it works, as far as I understand it. It doesn't necessarily make sense, but that's what canon says. If it were me, I would have Dementors feed on negative emotions and memories, and they bring them to the surface, and continual exposure makes you unable to remember positive memories at all, but I'm working with what canon says, not necessarily what makes sense to me.

As far as Dementors abilities, this is what the Potterwiki has to say on the subject:

Being blind, Dementors sense and feed on the positive emotions of human beings in order to survive, forcing their victims to relive their worst memories over and over again. The very presence of a Dementor can make the victim's surrounding atmosphere grow cold and dark, and as the number of Dementors increase, so do the effects. Those that are kept in the company of a Dementor for too long tend to become depressed, and are often driven insane, which was the main source of Azkaban's well-deserved horrible reputation when they still guarded its prisoners. After spending only a few months there, Rubeus Hagrid claims he wished he would die in his sleep.

Given that and canon evidence of Harry not just getting depressed, but actively remembering the night Voldemort killed his parents in the presence of Dementors, I'm going with the ruling that if you have traumatic enough memories, you are forced to relive them. That's how I've always understood it, and without strong evidence against it, I'm sticking with it.

Alright, I'm going to rework this, see what I come up with.

MrRigger

[MrRigger2]

Part Seventy-Four!

Spoiler: show

“You still haven’t explained what it was you did back there,” Hermione pressed as they stepped off the train and started for the carriages.

“That’s because I told you I wasn’t going to talk about this right now,” Harry snapped. His head was pounding, and he felt like he’d been running flat out for three days straight.

It hadn’t been ten minutes before the Express made it to Hogwarts, but it had been more than enough time for rumors to start flying up and down the train.

It was amazing, really, how his classmates seemed to know more about what Harry had done to the Dementor than he did.

There were people talking about how he’d saved everybody by banishing the Dementor, but for every one of them, there were two more who just wanted to see a celebrity fall on his face. Most of them were claiming only an act of serious Dark Magic could do anything permanent to a Dementor. None of them seemed to care about what really happened.

Except for Hermione, who wouldn’t stop demanding to know what had he’d done.

Harry tuned her out as he stomped towards the carriages. He climbed inside and dropped onto the bench seat. Hermione and Neville were right behind him.

“I did some research after I read that the Ministry was going to be using Dementors to search for Sirius Black, and there’s only supposed to be one way to fight them, and that’s the Patronus Charm,” Hermione explained. “What you did doesn’t fit the Patronus Charm at all, not the incantation and not the effect. Now, I haven’t seen the Patronus Charm being used in person, but I can’t believe that the book would be so completely wrong as far as describing the effects. You didn’t use the Patronus Charm, but you were still able to fight that Dementor, so what did you do, Harry? Does it have something to do with the magic you learned before you came to Hogwarts?”

“You still remember that?”

“Of course I do.” She sounded almost offended.

Harry groaned, part in aggravation, part because his head was killing him. “Fine. Yes, I used what my old teacher taught me, but I don’t know what I did. Can we leave it be?”

“What do mean you don’t know what you did? How can you not know what you did?”

“I don’t use that style of casting very often anymore, and I’ve never used that particular spell before. It was a gamble. I didn’t know what would happen.”

Hermione gasped. “You just decided to use an untested spell? When you didn’t know what it was going to do? Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

“Since the alternative was to let a Dementor have his wicked way with me, I figured it was worth the risk.”

“Well, I suppose you have a point there.”

“Um, Harry?” Neville said, raising his hand halfway like he was in class. “Where did you learn to do that? You didn’t even use a wand.” Seeing the look on Harry’s face, Neville quickly said, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s just, you hear about people who can use magic without a wand, but you never see it. Not even You-Know-Who could do it.”

“Well, don’t get your hopes up, Neville. It’s really not that impressive, at least not the way I use it. I learned it from a man named Kent Nelson, who taught the boy who would become Zatara of the Justice League.”

“Wow, I’ve read about the things Zatara has done. You mean you could do things like that, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. No, I can’t. I’m even surprised the spell against the Dementor worked.” Harry took a deep breath. “That whole style of casting, I can make it work. I can get it to do some things, but I’m not really great at it.”

“You saved me and Hermione from a Dementor. I think that’s pretty great.”

“I saved two people. Kent saved the world with his magic. I don’t even have to tell you what Zatara has done. You can read the papers just as well as me. And that’s the kind of level that kind of magic can go to. But I can’t get it to do that. For me, it’s complicated, it’s counterintuitive, and I doubt I’m ever going to get much better at it than I am right now. If it were my only option for learning magic, then I’d push through it, but it’s not.”

Harry pulled out his wand and stared at it. “This kind of magic, it’s so much easier for me. I made more progress in two years at Hogwarts than I did in four working with Kent, and I’m only learning faster now that I have a base to learn from.”

The carriage swayed to a stop, and Harry bolted before Hermione or Neville could ask any more questions. He spotted Draco Malfoy elbowing through the crowd, smirk on his face.

Any other night, Harry would be willing to deal with Draco, but not after what he’d been through, not with his head throbbing. He sent a Tripping Jinx at Crabbe, who fell down, taking Draco and Goyle with him.

Madam Pomfrey was standing off to one side in the Entrance Hall, and Harry made a beeline for her. “Do you have anything for a headache?” he asked as he got close.

“The Dementors, dear?”

He nodded.

She checked his eyes and clucked her tongue. She pulled a bar of chocolate from her pocket and handed it to him. “Eat that right away, and you should start to feel better. If you don’t improve by the end of the feast, come and see me. I’d take you up to the Hospital Wing now, if I didn’t know that the whole student body had just been exposed to those dreadful things. Professor Lupin sent ahead that some of the students had particularly bad reactions, and I want to be on hand for anyone who might relapse.”

Harry bit into the chocolate, and to his shock, he really did start to feel better. It was like the warmth was coming back to his limbs, and he could think clearly again. “Thank you, it’s helping,” he said around a mouthful of chocolate.

“You’re welcome, dear, now make sure you finish the whole thing.”

Harry nodded and headed for the Great Hall.

This was not a promising start to the year.

Edited the previous part, for those that missed it. It's a pretty heavy edit, so you might want to go review it.

Remember that these are getting put up raw, no beta, and you guys are the first eyes to see it other than mine, so if you see something wrong, or feel something can be improved, I want to hear about it.

MrRigger

[jgkitarel]

The way you cleaned up how Harry dealt with the Dementor made it mesh better than the original. As for how this year will go, Harry has no reason to distrust the information, or at least the source, but he also knows better than to take things at face value. I would not be surprised if he tries to look into the Sirius Black matter and notices some disturbing discrepancies, such as the lack of a trial, or even a thorough investigation.

Also, Hermione is going to probably push Harry's buttons the wrong way this time.

[Ristridin]

You'd think they were lethal, but people have been frozen by Mr. Freeze in just about every canon and come out okay. Batman has also survived being eaten by Poison Ivy's plants, usually by cutting himself out/someone else cutting him out. Being in the presence of the Dementor, however, would keep Harry from remembering that he got himself free.

Guess that's my unfamiliarity with that part of the story showing.

As far as Dementors abilities, this is what the Potterwiki has to say on the subject:

I checked the first part of that article, but didn't read everything. Probably should have read further.

A Dementor is a non-being and Dark creature, considered one of the foulest to inhabit the world. Dementors feed off human happiness, and thus cause depression and despair to anyone near them.

I read that as 'reliving your worst memories is a consequence of them feeding off your happiness' (as in, you can't think happy thoughts, start to feel depressed because of that, and start remembering unhappy things. If you're exposed long enough, your worst memory becomes all you can remember), not 'they deliberately force you to relive your worst memories'. Not counting Harry, I think people seemed to merely feel 'cold, as if they would never be happy again' rather than 'worst memory'.

But you're certainly right that Harry was being forced to relive his worst memory. Probably has something to do with this:

They seemed to be particularly attracted to Harry because, due to his miserable childhood and many bad memories, he was particularly vulnerable to their influence.

So the way I interpreted canon, the Dementors were mostly focussing on him, causing the major symptoms with him (and lesser symptoms with others). Didn't help that he's one of the few with a memory horrible enough to faint.


In any case, back to the story. Looks better now. Harry's resistance is far more clear, and Harry regains focus based on the immediate (perceived?) threat to Neville (also a good Dementor target by the way. His childhood might have been worse than Harry's in this story), rather than sudden strength of will. Still wondering what happened to that Dementor.

Spoiler: show

There were people talking about how he’d saved everybody by banishing the Dementor, but for every one of them, there were two more who just wanted to see a celebrity fall on his face. Most of them were claiming only an act of serious Dark Magic could do anything permanent to a Dementor. None of them seemed to care about what really happened.

And it looks like the rest of the school is wondering the same. Apparently, the Dementor got permanent damage (well, according to rumor). Also, about the Dark Magic... 'Why yes, driving off a horrible creature with a spell made of White Light must be a horrible act of darkness indeed.' :facepalm:

Regarding Harry's magic training, Hermione might connect the pieces about Harrier (this is still unknown, right?) when she starts to think about it.

Spoiler: show

“Since the alternative was to let a Dementor have his wicked way with me, I figured it was worth the risk.”

Wicked way with me, or with Neville (or simply us)?

Spoiler: show

The carriage swayed to a stop, and Harry bolted before Hermione or Neville could ask any more questions. He spotted Draco Malfoy elbowing through the crowd, smirk on his face.

If he bolted because of Malfoy, it should probably be 'He had spotted'. Wonder what the smirk is about though; Harry just drove off a Dementor... Maybe Malfoy wanted to go for the dark magic thing?

[MrRigger2]

Guess that's my unfamiliarity with that part of the story showing.

I never really went into it in this story, so I can't fault you there. I'm just drawing from other Batman canons. While every one of Batman's major Rogues have fairly impressive body counts, the ones with gimmicks (such as Mr. Freeze or Poison Ivy) aren't usually immediately lethal, though part of that is just the medium. Getting frozen alive should kill you, but all the crazy stuff Batman does shouldn't be possible either, so there we go.

I read that as 'reliving your worst memories is a consequence of them feeding off your happiness' (as in, you can't think happy thoughts, start to feel depressed because of that, and start remembering unhappy things. If you're exposed long enough, your worst memory becomes all you can remember), not 'they deliberately force you to relive your worst memories'. Not counting Harry, I think people seemed to merely feel 'cold, as if they would never be happy again' rather than 'worst memory'.

While Harry's classmates seem to just feel cold and as if they'd never be happy again, Hagrid also apparently revisits a few specific memories. Speaking about Azkaban:

“Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin’ mad. Kep’ goin’ over horrible stuff in me mind . . . the day I got expelled from Hogwarts . . . day me dad died . . . day I had ter let Norbert go. . . .”

Granted, most people don't seem to have quite the reaction Harry has to Dementors, but I would say that they would call back to a specific set of memories. If they're traumatic enough, it might be enough to make you pass out.

And it looks like the rest of the school is wondering the same. Apparently, the Dementor got permanent damage (well, according to rumor). Also, about the Dark Magic... 'Why yes, driving off a horrible creature with a spell made of White Light must be a horrible act of darkness indeed.' :facepalm:

True, logic may not be seeing a whole lot of use here (and since when does it ever in Harry Potter?), but Hermione and Neville were the only real eye witnesses. People heard a secondhand account of what happened and drew their own opinions of what happened. Given the general state of panic the Dementors would cause anyways, there's no telling what people would come up with.

If he bolted because of Malfoy, it should probably be 'He had spotted'. Wonder what the smirk is about though; Harry just drove off a Dementor... Maybe Malfoy wanted to go for the dark magic thing?

He didn't bolt because of Malfoy, he bolted to get away from Hermione and Neville before they could ask anymore questions. In the process of bolting, that's when he spotted Malfoy. As for the smirk, it's partially Malfoy's default expression, and partially Malfoy thinking he could score a few points off Harry. He was probably going to hit on the Dark Magic thing, maybe hit on having a bad reaction. Since I knew Malfoy wasn't going to actually reach Harry, I didn't come up with anything specific for him to say.

Thanks for the in-depth look. I appreciate it.

MrRigger

[MrRigger2]

Part Seventy-Five!

Spoiler: show

Harry ducked out of the Great Hall early. After hearing that Hogwarts would be playing host to Dementors until Sirius Black was caught, he lost his appetite. He was asleep before the rest of the House even made it back to the dorm.

Fortunately, the only class he had the next morning was Transfiguration. More than half the class entered just before the bell, looking morose and sending glances at Neville.

Harry tried to pay attention as Professor McGonagall explained to them the finer points of Animagery, but so few people were paying attention that it was distracting. And apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“Really, what has gotten into you all today?” McGonagall asked as she changed from a tabby cat back into a human. “Not that it matters, but that’s the first time my transformation’s not got applause from a class.”

Nearly everyone shot a furtive look at Neville, who tried to sink into the floor. Lavender Brown raised her hand. “We’ve just come from Divination, Professor, and we were reading the tea leaves—“

“Ah, of course,” Professor McGonagall frowned. “There’s no need to say any more, Miss Brown. Which one of you will be dying this year?”

Neville tried to disappear under his desk. “Me.”

“I see. Well, Mr. Longbottom, I wouldn’t worry about dying, if I were you. Professor Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year ever since she arrived at this castle, and none of them have died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. I would concentrate less on my colleague’s grisly prediction, Mr. Longbottom, and more on your Transfiguration work. If your demise does come to pass, I won’t make you turn in your homework, but until you do, I expect top marks.”

The class laughed nervously, and Neville climbed out from underneath his desk. Professor McGonagall turned back into a cat, and the class clapped politely.

“Well, that’s more like it. Let’s get to it.”

Once the lesson was over, Harry started for the door, but Professor McGonagall stopped him. “Mr. Potter, a word, if you please?”

The class cleared out, and Professor McGonagall looked him up and down. “I’m told you had a rather severe interaction with one of the Dementors that searched the train last night, Mr. Potter. I already spoke with Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom, but as Deputy Headmistress, I need to get your perspective as well. First off, were you injured in any way?”

“A splitting headache and some exhaustion, but I’m fine now. Madam Pomfrey gave me some chocolate last night, and I had a good night’s sleep.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Can you tell me what happened from your point of view?”

Harry took a deep breath. “We noticed the train slowing down, and when it stopped, Neville got hit in the head. I was going to see what was going on, but I wanted to make sure Neville was alright first.”

“Admirable.”

“When I was checking on Neville, I started to feel cold, and I could hear screaming. The Dementor entered our compartment, and started reaching for me.” He paused. “I saw the Dursleys die again.”

Professor McGonagall put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that, Harry. Miss Granger said you did something to make the Dementor disappear. Could you tell me what that was?”

Harry backed up and sat on the edge of the desk in the front row. “You know that Bruce found a magical tutor for me before I came to Hogwarts.”

“Of course, I was quite surprised at the time. I take the spell you used was something he had taught you?”

Harry wiggled his hand. “Yes and no. He’d told me about it because one of his stories involved banishing a demon, but he never really taught it to me. I’d never done it before last night, and I didn’t know if it was going to work. But it was the only thing I could think of, so I gave it my best shot.”

Professor McGonagall’s brow furrowed. “And what was the spell supposed to do?”

“Strictly speaking, it’s supposed to banish demons back to the place they came from, but I’m not sure what it did to the Dementor. If it were a demon, it should have gone back to wherever it was summoned from, but if it came from Earth, nothing should have happened. I don’t know if something strange happened because Dementors are technically Dark Creatures, or if I messed up the spell somehow and just teleported the Dementor somewhere else, or if I did everything right and Dementors were just been misclassified in the book I read. I really can’t say what happened.”

“I understand, Mr. Potter. Frankly, I’m more concerned about the fact that those creatures were able to search the Express the way they did than whatever happened to the one you encountered. And I will make sure that the Ministry knows that, if they try to make anything of this, not that I expect they will.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“It’s the least I can do, Mr. Potter. And if you ever need to talk, my door is always open,” she said with a small smile. “Now run along, it’s lunchtime, and I daresay I’m just as hungry as you are.”

0oOo0

After lunch, Harry and Susan made their way across the grounds to their first Care of Magical Creatures class. Hagrid – Professor Hagrid – was waiting for the class at the door of his hut. “C’mon, hurry up now,” he called. “Got a real treat for yeh today! Everyone here? Then follow me, got a great lesson today!”

Hagrid led them around the edge of the forest to an empty paddock. “Everyone gather ’round the fence here!” he called. “That’s it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books —”

“How?” Draco drawled.

“Eh?” Hagrid looked confused.

“How do we open our books?” Draco asked as he pulled out his book, bound with a length of rope. About half the class did the same, showing books that were held closed with belts and binder clips. Harry had let Susan in on the secret to opening the book at breakfast, and Hermione had apparently done the same, because the Gryffindor’s books were all behaving as well.

“See, some of yeh got it figured out,” Hagrid said, smiling. “Fer those of yeh that haven’t, yeh got to stroke it.”

Hagrid snatched Draco’s book out of his hand and pulled the rope off. He ran a forefinger down the spine and the book shuddered and fell open. Hagrid handed the book back to Draco and stepped back.

“I…I thought they were funny,” Hagrid said uncertainly.

“Oh yes, very funny, giving us books that try and rip our hands off,” Draco sneered.

Hagrid looked uncertain, and Harry spoke up. “I think it was an interesting first lesson. Different creatures need to be handled different ways, right?”

Hagrid’s face lit up as he latched onto the lifeline. “Oh yeah, some o’ the nicest critters’ll go nasty if yeh don’t treat ‘em righ’. Even a unicorn’ll try’n gore yeh if yeh get shirty with ‘em, and they’re gentle as can be most o’ the time. So that’s yer firs’ lesson. Treat the creatures righ’, or yeh might not like what happens next.”

Hagrid looked around briefly, like he’d lost his train of thought. “Righ’ then, so yeh’ve got the books, so now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Stay there, I’ll get ‘em.”

Hagrid disappeared into the forest. He trotted back out a minute later, leading a dozen bizarre looking creatures. The back halves looked like horses, but the front halves looked like giant eagles, with razor-sharp talons and beaks that could probably bite through steel.

“Hippogriffs!” Hagrid roared happily. “Beau’iful, aren’ they?” He stared at the creatures for a moment before explaining how hippogriffs were very proud, and you had to be polite to avoid offending them.

With how sharp the talons looked, Harry vowed to make sure he never offended one.

“Righ’, who wants ter go first?”

Nobody moved forward. More than a few stepped backwards.

“No one?”

“I’ll do it,” Harry volunteered, and climbed over the wooden fence. Feeling it shift under his weight, he doubted it would do much to stop the hippogriffs if they were feeling frisky.

“Good man, Harry,” Hagrid cheered. “Let’s see how yeh get on with Buckbeak.”

Hagrid untethered the grey hippogriff and pulled it away from the others. “Righ’, yeh wanna make eye contact when yer walking up, then you wanna bow…”

Harry walked up confidently, looking the hippogriff in his big orange eyes. He stopped about three feet from Buckbeak and bowed just the way Alfred had taught him.

Buckbeak was eying him as Harry straightened, and Hagrid started to warn him away, but then the hippogriff sank into a bow. Harry reached forward and scratched the feathers under his chin.

The class applauded behind him, except for Draco and his friends. Hagrid spoke loud enough to be heard over the applause. “Go on, Harry, I reckon he might let you ride him!”

Harry looked at Hagrid in alarm as the rest of the class gasped, but Hagrid was just smiling and lifting Harry onto Buckbeak’s back. Before Harry could protest, Hagrid slapped the creature on the hindquarters and Harry was suddenly in the air.

Harry had flown through the air, on a broom, on a rope, on a plane, on nothing more than a prayer, and riding Buckbeak wasn’t like any of them. Harry could feel the powerful muscles working to keep them aloft, it was more like riding a horse bareback, except the horse was forty feet in the air and the backdraft from the wings threatened to pull him off with every enormous beat.

Buckbeak took one lap around the paddock before coming in for a landing, and Harry was nearly pitched onto the ground, with nothing more to hold onto than the smooth feathers.

The class cheered as Harry stumbled for the fence. With his success and Hagrid’s urging, they all moved into the paddock and began bowing to the hippogriffs.

Hagrid strode over to Harry, beaming. “Yeh enjoy that, Harry?”

“It was… definitely an experience. But I’d be careful about doing that if I were you. I don’t think some of the others would react as well as I did to it.”

“Mebbe yer righ’, Harry,” Hagrid said, disappointed. “I jus’ wanted to make it a good lesson.”

“It wasn’t bad, you just might not want to go so big all at once—oh no!”

Draco had taken Harry’s place at Buckbeak, and while he’d gotten the beast to bow to him, he’d also just insulted him. Harry reacted on instinct, dashing forward, throwing his shoulder into Draco’s side and knocking him to the ground. Harry felt Buckbeak rake his talons down his shoulders and back, and the green grass was red with blood. Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak into his collar, and Draco was shouting, but all Harry was concentrating on was pushing the pain down.

Ancient meditation techniques taught by Batman combined with Occlumency let him think halfway clearly, and by that point, he was in Hagrid’s arms and on his way to the Hospital Wing.

I really wish I had a better way to end this one. I just don't know how to do it. Any ideas?

MrRigger

[MrRigger2]

Part Seventy-Six!

Spoiler: show

Madam Pomfrey had closed his wounds thirty seconds after Hagrid carried him into the Hospital Wing, and he gave her the rundown on what happened in class, since Hagrid wasn’t communicating it too well. He was washing the taste of the Blood-Replenisher out of his mouth when Draco came in holding his wrist.

“And what is wrong with you, Mr. Malfoy?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“It feels like my wrist is broken, and it’s all Potter’s fault,” Draco said. “That oaf Hagrid didn’t even bother to see if I was okay before he ran off with Potter.”

Harry spit into the sink. “Oh please, I may have knocked you to the ground, but if I hadn’t, Buckbeak would have carved you like a turkey. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you? Since when has breaking someone’s arm been cause for thanking them?”

“Sprained,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“What?”

“It’s not broken, Mr. Malfoy, it’s just a sprain.” Madam Pomfrey immobilized Draco’s wrist with her wand and handed him a potion. “Drink that, it will help with the pain and inflammation. If it still hurts tomorrow, come back and see me. And considering the wounds Mr. Potter came in with, you really should thank him.”

Draco grimaced but didn’t say anything. “And furthermore, you need to pay attention to all the instructions your professors give you, or things like this will happen. I’ll speak with Professor Hagrid about your actions in class, but you can expect a detention at least. Mr. Potter, you’re free to leave, but I want to see you after your next class to make sure those cuts haven’t opened back up.”

Harry nodded and beat feet as Madam Pomfrey turned back to Draco to continue berating him for a lack of responsibility.

0oOo0

Harry’s last class of the day was Ancient Runes. From what he’d read of the coursebook, it looked to be pretty interesting.

The teacher was a middle-aged witch in the midst of aging gracefully. She wore no-nonsense dark blue robes and a pair of thin rectangular spectacles, and used a rather short wand. She made Harry think of a younger Professor McGonagall.

“My name is Professor Bathsheda Babbling, and in this class, you will be learning the Study of Ancient Runes. Some people discount Ancient Runes as boring, monotonous, and an exercise in frustration. At times, these people are right. However, for those of you who learn to understand runes and how they work, they can allow you to perform truly wondrous feats of magic.

“Before wands were in common use, witches and wizards had to use other methods to perform magic. Potions, rituals, and ceremonies were all commonly used by practitioners, but runes were the most versatile, and some of the most enduring. Potions require specific ingredients and often have a limited usable time before they go bad. Rituals are usually dependent on factors outside anyone’s control, such as the phase of the moon or the season, and ceremonies typically have only minor effects or tend to be extraordinarily risky.

“Runes, on the other hand, filled the gaps the other forms of magic left, up until wands became commonplace. Witches and wizards could use runes to provide comfort, protection, and a way to influence the world around them in a way that other people simply couldn’t.

“Runes allow us to understand the history behind the people who first used them, but I suspect that for most of you, that won’t be your primary focus for taking this class. No, most students take Ancient Runes because they are interested in their two primary uses. Enchanting and Warding.”

The class perked up at that, and Professor Babbling nodded. “If you are taking this class because you are interested in Warding, and you aren’t currently enrolled in Arithmancy, I suggest you remedy that fact at once, as Warding relies even more heavily on Arithmancy than it does on Runes. We’ll cover Warding briefly later on this year, but don’t expect anything in depth on the subject until your O.W.L. Year.”

A few students groaned, Harry wasn’t one of them. “For those of you interested in Enchanting, you should look into making sure your Charms scores are top notch. While not necessary for Enchanting, good Charms skills will allow you to cut several steps in the Enchanting process, and personalize your projects a bit.

“Speaking of personalization, the first project you all will be doing is to create your own personal rune. We will be studying the history of the most common runic alphabets and doing some basic translations before we get to that, but once we do, it will serve as an identifier for your work in this class, and for any Enchanting your do once you leave Hogwarts. Should one of you become a Master Enchanter, people could use your personal rune to identify your work decades or even centuries after you’re gone.”

Professor Babbling picked up a cylinder off her desk and held it up to the class. “This is one of my most prized possessions. Does anyone know what it is?”

Hermione raised her hand, so did a Ravenclaw, Lisa Turpin. “It’s a water filter for Potions,” Hermione said.

Professor Babbling nodded. “Yes, while the design is largely obsolete now, witches and wizards who needed to use pure water would use something like this to remove impurities. It’s not a very complicated item, and in fact, I expect all of you to be able to make something like this by the time you take your O.W.L.s. What makes this particular filter special is this rune right here.”

She cast a spell that acted like a magnifying lens so the class could see it in detail. “This rune is the personal rune of Merlin himself.”

The class oohed. Even Harry, who’d been around antiques and items so rare they might as well be unique since he’d been taken in by Bruce, was impressed.

Professor Babbling let the class admire the rune a moment longer before putting it away. “Now, we’ll be concentrating first on Celtic runes, as they are the most common runes you’ll see in this part of the world…”

I've taken liberties with the description of Ancient Runes, and a little with Arithmancy as well. Canon has Ancient Runes as nothing more than learning to translate dead languages with no real practical application, at least as far as I can tell from the descriptions, and Arithmancy is predicting the future with numbers, and if that's the case, I can't think of any reason for it not to be folded into Divination. So Ancient Runes is now as described above, while Arithmancy is based more around spell crafting and warding, to make them more sensible offerings for classes. Since we never actually see any classes for either subject, I don't feel bad about making the changes.

MrRigger

[DIT_grue]

A confusing typo: it took me a while (and several increasingly improbable abortive readings) to work out that Harry was spitting into the sink, not a (water)skin, one of his wounds, Draco's hand...

Also, Professor Babbling omitted a couple of words in her introduction: "Rituals are usually dependent on factors outside anyone’s control,"

And it seems to me that altering canon so that it makes sense is always necessary for any fic that looks past the surface of JKR's ideas about the Wizarding World.

[MrRigger2]

Part Seventy-Seven!

Spoiler: show

While Ancient Runes had the potential to be one of Harry’s new favorite classes, Professor Lupin was definitely Harry’s new favorite Defense teacher. The first class was proof enough of that.

He had come in late to the first class, which hadn’t raised Harry’s opinion of the man very high, but given the previous Defense teachers Hogwarts had hosted, he still wasn’t the worst on the list.

No matter what Clock King said, being late wasn’t as bad as trying to kill someone.

“You can put everything away except for your books,” Professor Lupin said as he finally entered the room. “This will be a practical lesson. If you’ll all follow me?”

The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs looked at each other in confusion, but shrugged and followed along. Professor Lupin led them down the halls, delayed only briefly when he encountered Peeves stuffing gum in a door lock. Professor Lupin cast a spell that shot the gum down Peeves’s nose, sending the poltergeist off cursing, and finished leading them to the Teacher’s Lounge.

Professor Snape was the only one in the lounge, but he left with only a few snide comments directed at Neville. Professor Lupin walked over to stand next to the wardrobe, which began shaking and banging against the wall.

“Oh, nothing to worry about,” he said at the students’ alarmed looks. “I just have a boggart in there. Boggarts reside in dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, obviously, the gap between the bed and the floor, cupboards under the sink, I even came across one that wedged itself into a grandfather clock. This boggart moved in yesterday afternoon, and I thought it would do well to give you all some practice. So, the first question we must ask, what is a boggart?”

Hermione raised her hand. “It’s a shapeshifter. It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.”

“Excellent, five points to Gryffindor. Now, the boggart in the wardrobe hasn’t assumed a form yet, but once I open the door, it will immediately assume whatever form it thinks will scare each of us the most. Of course, this means that we have a huge advantage over the boggart. Have you spotted it, Harry?”

Harry was a little caught off guard, but it wasn’t a hard question. “There’s a bunch of us, so it won’t know what to turn into first. Also, we know it’s a boggart to begin with, so we know there’s nothing to be really afraid of.”

The wardrobe shook a little more violently, but Professor Lupin paid it no mind. “Very good, Harry, five points to Hufflepuff. The boggart will become confused, which is why it’s important to always have company when you’re dealing with a boggart.

“The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing.

“We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please . . . riddikulus!”

“Riddikulus!” said the class together.

“Good,” said Professor Lupin. “Very good. But that was the easy part, I’m afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville.”

Neville kept casting fearful glances at the wardrobe as Professor Lupin prepared him to face the boggart, and even if it wasn’t right, Harry had to laugh a little bit at Neville’s greatest fear being Professor Snape. Of course, he really had to laugh at the thought of Professor Snape in the dress Neville described.

“If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn,” said Professor Lupin. “I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical.”

Harry didn’t know what scared the rest of the class the most, but Harry knew his greatest fear. Scarecrow.

He could count the number of times he’d gone up against Scarecrow on one hand, and they weren’t times he liked to think about.

Nobody had a good reaction to Johnathon Crane’s fear toxin, not even Batman, who could fight through it better than anyone Scarecrow had ever encountered. Harry, on the other hand, had one of the worst reactions recorded.

The first time Harrier and Scarecrow faced off, they thought it was a fluke. A stronger than average dose, or a strange reaction with one of Poison Ivy’s spores, since she’d been active the week before.

The second time, Batman thought it was a deliberate attack by Scarecrow. Crane had devised specific strains for Batman, why not for his sidekick? But when the toxin had been analyzed, it had been just like the rest of the batch Scarecrow had been using.

The third time, Harrier was banned from fighting Scarecrow. The risk was simply too high.

A normal dose of fear gas usually lasted a few hours, as long as the subject lived. Each time Harry had been dosed, he’d been subjected to horrific hallucinations and terrible visions for weeks, even after the toxin had been flushed from his system. Nobody was a hundred percent sure what the cause was, but it seemed the fear toxin set off a psychological trigger that made Harry’s mind turn on itself. Scenes of torture and murder, as both assailant and victim, plagued him for weeks.

Unless the boggart was going to come up with some nightmare Harry’s mind couldn’t bring itself to remember, he had to come up with some way to make the Scarecrow amusing.

Neville stepped forward as Professor Lupin magicked the door open. Hook-nosed and scowling, Professor Snape appeared, only for Neville to hit it with the spell. In a whip-crack, Professor Snape was suddenly crossdressing as a grandmother.

Everybody laughed, and the boggart turned to Parvati, changing into a bloodstained mummy. It barely moved two steps before she cast and it tripped on its unraveling bandages. Seamus stepped forward, it became a banshee, only to contract laryngitis as Seamus defended himself.

It ran through a few more fears, a rat, a snake, a bloody eyeball, a disembodied hand. Ron moved forward and it turned into a giant spider, an acromantula. He cast the spell and the spider’s legs disappeared, the body rolling across the floor before coming to rest in front of Susan.

The boggart transformed and became a tall man with paper-white skin stretched tight over his bones. His nose was almost gone entirely, nothing more than slits, and he had dark red eyes with slits for pupils. His laugh was cold and high as he drew his wand.

People screamed as Lord Voldemort appeared, and Professor Lupin tried to force his way through the students as they panicked.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry cast. He doubted it ever would have worked on the real Voldemort, but this was just a pale imitation, and he wasn’t afraid as he caught the wand.

The wand disappeared as the boggart turned to Harry and transformed. Tall and lanky, Scarecrow stood in front of him. A rough burlap mask with a breathing apparatus concealed his face, and the rest of him was covered in ragged brown cloth. His right hand wore a specialized glove with syringes on each finger.

The boggart Scarecrow lunged for Harry with the syringe glove.

“Riddikulus!”

The boggart was still lunging for Harry, but now it was the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, complete with clumsiness. It fell on its face, and people laughed.

Professor Lupin stepped forward and forced the boggart to focus on him. It transformed into a silvery white orb and Professor Lupin glanced around at his students. “Everyone okay? Just remember, it’s only a boggart! Neville, finish it off!”

With a crack, Snape was back, and Neville added his grandmother’s clothes to the sneering professor. Everybody laughed, and the boggart disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“Excellent work, everybody,” Professor Lupin said as everybody cheered. “Five points to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff for everyone who faced the boggart, ten for Neville because he did it twice, and ten for Harry because he remembered to keep his calm in the face of a boggart that took a particularly terrifying form. Homework, everyone read and summarize the chapter on boggarts for Monday.”

The class filed out, everyone talking excitedly about the best Defense lesson they’d ever had. Everyone except Susan, it seemed.

“Are you alright, Susan?” Harry asked as the rest of the Hufflepuffs walked ahead.

Susan hugged her arms tight to her chest. “I—I guess I just wasn’t ready for that,” she said quietly. “My aunt’s told me stories about You-Know-Who from when she was fighting in the war, but to actually see him…”

“That wasn’t him, Susan,” Harry said gently. “It was just a boggart. It wasn’t the real Voldemort.”

Susan sniffed. “I guess you’re right. I just wish I’d done something,” she muttered. “But I just stood there. You had to jump in and save me. I’m just glad you got its attention.”

Harry shrugged. “I had to do something, or people would have gotten hurt, running around scared. And if I hadn’t done anything, I’m sure Professor Lupin would have handled it.”

“Probably.” The way Susan was holding herself, she didn’t want to be alone, but she didn’t want to say anything.

“Hey, you’re in Muggle Studies, right? I’m kind of interested in hearing about how wizards see the rest of the world, why don’t you tell me about that?”

Susan latched onto the idea. “Sure, okay. Professor Burbage is so nice, and I think she really knows what she’s talking about…”

I hate the canon class schedule. So much. So much hatred. I hate it more than Ron hates Snape.

I'll do my best to keep it intact where I can, but honestly, there's no way it should possibly work based on canon description, so I'll have to make some changes just to make sense, and to save my sanity. Otherwise, I'll just keep it vague.

MrRigger

[Ristridin]

Only gave the last two a quick read-through, so I don't have a lot of feedback. I do want to say that I liked the boggart scene for being rather different from canon (including a different boggart form for Harry (makes sense, since he beat the Dementor)), while still letting Harry keep in character with his 'greatest fear being fear itself'.

[MrRigger2]

Part Seventy-Eight!

Spoiler: show

The first few weeks passed in a blur. Defense Against the Dark Arts was finally a class worth having, under Professor Lupin’s instruction. The boggart was just the beginning, and they quickly moved on to Red Caps, ambush predators that waited in sites of violence and bludgeoned their victims to death, then dipped their hats in the blood, and then to Kappas, water-dwellers that strangled people that entered their pools.

Ancient Runes was almost as much fun, for completely different reasons. Professor Babbling could only make the dry translations so interesting, and they weren’t going to do even the most basic Enchanting until after Christmas Break, but that didn’t mean Harry couldn’t work ahead on his own.

Oh, he wasn’t supposed to. Professor Babbling had specifically warned the class against working ahead, but a conversation with Cedric had put his mind at ease.

“Don’t worry about what Babbling says, Harry, everybody works ahead,” Cedric explained. “Babbling knows that, she’s just covering her arse. All you need to worry about is not getting caught out working ahead.” He laughed. “I screwed up a project at the end of last year and it blew up in my face. Remember when I was going around without any eyebrows? Yeah, that was it. Babbling found out and chewed me out so bad I wish I’d blown my ears off instead of my eyebrows.”

Harry doubted Cedric realized just how far ahead he was working, and if he did, he doubted he would see the approval in his work ethic. Harry had already created the first project, a rune system powered by ambient magic that would make an enchanter’s personal rune glow, and he didn’t plan on slowing down anytime soon.

Care of Magical Creatures had taken a sharp downturn in excitement since the first class, not that Harry was terribly disappointed. Those hippogriff claws had *hurt*.

Hagrid had moved the class into safer territory, though it was also boring territory. Flobberworms had followed the hippogriffs, which were fat brown worms that took lettuce in one end and put mucus out the other. As far as Harry could tell, it didn’t really matter which end. The only other creature Hagrid had been willing to show them was the Horklump, which was a creature from Scandinavia that looked like a mushroom covered in black bristles and did little more than breed and eat earthworms. It wasn’t even commonly used in Potions like flobberworms were, and Harry wasn’t sure why Hagrid had even bothered to show it to them.

But as September died and October rolled around, Harry found a project that would keep him occupied even more than his extra Runes work. Unsurprisingly, it came from Fred and George Weasley.

0oOo0

Harry hadn’t meant to find the twins, he wasn’t even looking for them. He needed space to practice his Transfiguration, and he wasn’t finding it in the Common Room, so he was looking for an empty classroom.

He found George Weasley and a chimpanzee.

A chimpanzee that was turning back into Fred Weasley.

Fred and George stared at Harry. Harry stared back at them.

Harry broke the silence. “So, what kind of prank involves turning Fred into a chimp?”

“Harry!” Fred exclaimed, rushing towards him.

“Buddy!” George shouted, approaching Harry from the other side.

“Pal!”

“Friend!”

“We need you to do us a favor.”

“You can’t tell anyone about what you saw here.”

“Wouldn’t be helpful for us.”

“I can’t see why anyone would need to know.”

Harry raised an eyebrow as Fred and George each put and arm around his shoulders. “So what didn’t I see here? I know what it doesn’t look like, but I want to not know to what I didn’t see.”

Fred looked at his brother. “Did that make sense?”

“Very nearly, I think.”

“Should we tell him?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“So you’re becoming Animaguses? Animagi?” Harry asked as he looked at the aged yellow book open on the desk.

Fred and George looked at the empty space between their arms. “He’s a quick one, isn’t he George?”

“Stealthy, too.”

“Fred? George? Can we stay on topic?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“I do, but I’m not sure why he’s asking.”

“A Primer on the Practice of Animagery. That’s what we’re talking about right now. Stay focused.”

Fred shrugged. “I’d think it’d be obvious.”

George nodded. “It’s really only focused on one thing.”

“The title’s a dead giveaway.”

“Honestly, I thought you were one of the smart ones, Harry.”

“What else would we be doing with that book?”

“Well, we could be pranking it.”

“Pranking a book? Books don’t get embarrassed.”

“No, the book would be the pranking medium.”

“Ah, the method of delivery.”

“It’d be good for complusions.”

“And pranks to the face.”

“Or to the hands.”

“You two aren’t going to draw me off topic that easily. Animagery. Fred’s a chimp. Are you going to tell me what George can turn into, or should I start guessing?”

“Oh, this’ll be good.”

“Go on, guess, guess!”

“And you’ll tell me if I get it right?”

“We swear on our honor as pranksters.”

“Such as it is.”

Fred walked over to the desk and sat down as Harry and George squared off. “A cat?”

“While McGonagall is a wonderful professor, I did not follow in her feline footsteps.”

“A fox?”

“I may be clever as one, but a fox I am not.”

“A rat?”

“It would help with pranking, but no.”

“A snake?”

“I am a model Gryffindor, sir, so I shall ignore that you made such a suggestion.”

“Some kind of bird?”

“No wings on me.”

“A chameleon?”

“Weasleys were made to stand out, not blend in.”

“Another chimpanzee?”

“You’re on the right track, but Fred and I are individuals, you know.”

“On the right track? A gorilla?”

“Oh, to see Slytherin’s face when a gorilla knocks a Bludger at their Keeper… but no.”

“An orangutan?

“An orangu-what? Stop monkeying around, Harry.” George grinned madly.

“Monkeying around... A baboon?”

“No, but my arse will be red if I don’t take Alicia to Hogsmeade first chance we get. She’s been hinting.”

“A howler monkey?”

“Ooooooooooooooooooooooh no.”

“A spider monkey?”

George pointed at Harry and tapped his nose. “Ding ding ding ding, we have a winner!”

George transformed with a pop and became a spider monkey with black fur, except for a tuft of red on top of his head. He quickly climbed a desk and jumped to Harry’s back, pulling himself up to sit on Harry’s head.

Harry shook his head and George the monkey jumped to the desk Fred was sitting on, where he transformed again.

“Where’d you find the book?” Harry asked. “I’ve searched the library. There aren’t any manuals like this that actually go into the process of how to become an Animagus.”

Fred grinned. “Nicked it from McGonagall.”

“Remember when we set off on most prodigious pranking campaign?”

“You were the inspiration.”

“Ever wonder why we stopped?”

“It wasn’t for lack of ideas.”

“We actually got distracted.”

“By that little book there.”

“I’m sure you can’t blame us.”

Harry shrugged. “It certainly seems like an interesting topic, and it’s not like there’s a lot of information on it.”

“Too true!”

“That’s why we nicked it when we did.”

“McGonagall had pulled us into her office for some reason or another.”

“I think we’d filled the Slytherin Quidditch Robes with firecrab flakes.”

“Something like that.”

“Hardly anything that needed punishment.”

“She had this book sitting on her desk.”

“Right out in the open.”

“She should have known better.”

“It would have been rude not to take it.”

“And it’s not like McGonagall needed it.”

“She’s already an Animagus.”

“So we took it.”

“Been studying it ever since.”

“Only really figured it out recently.”

“Still need to work out the last details.”

“Don’t always take our clothes with us.”

“It’s about a fifty-fifty split.”

“And a trifle embarrassing.”

“At least we haven’t done it in front of anybody else.”

“You’re lucky George got it right this time.”

“I might have given you a bit of a show.”

“So, what’ll it be?”

“What do you want?”

“What do I want for what?” Harry asked, surprised that he was getting an opportunity to get a word in edgewise.

“To keep your silence.”

“We can’t have you blabbing about what we can do all over school.”

“I’m sure we’ll let the cat out of the bag someday.”

“But we want it to be on our terms.”

“So we’ll need you to keep quiet.”

“Just for a while longer.”

“I want the book,” Harry said without hesitation.

Fred and George gasped. “You cut us to the quick, sir.”

“This book is one of our prized possessions!”

“We couldn’t give it to just anyone.”

“We would even hesitate to give it to another Weasley.”

“Of course, they’re all too responsible.”

“Even Ronnikins is getting all respectable.”

“One of the best duelers in Flitwick’s club.”

“Who knows what they might get up to with the knowledge contained within?”

“Something boring, no doubt.”

“If you want it, you’ll have to do something for us.”

“Make us a promise.”

“A solemn oath.”

“You will only use this knowledge for mischief.”

“And rulebreaking.”

“It must add to the entertainment around here.”

“Anything, really, as long as it’s not boring.”

“We can’t stand boring.”

“It’s simply the worst.”

“Fine, fine, stop!” Harry exclaimed, waving his arms. “I solemnly swear that I won’t use the knowledge in the book for anything boring.”

“Splendid!”

“Magnificent!”

“Well, we’ll be off.”

“Places to go, people to prank.”

Harry scowled. “Fred. George. The book?”

“Oh, of course.”

“You can’t blame us for trying, can you?”

Harry snatched the book out of Fred’s hands. The twins just grinned and walked out of the room. Harry glared at their backs as they disappeared, then opened the book.

It was a distracting subject, after all.

Spoiler: show

Specifically, Fred and George are a bonobo chimpanzee and a black-headed spider monkey respectively.

Fred and George are so much fun to write. Seriously, so much fun.

MrRigger

[MrRigger2]

Part Seventy-Nine!

Spoiler: show

A Primer on the Practice of Animagery by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was one of the most indecipherable pieces of writing Harry had ever read. No wonder it had taken Fred and George the better part of two years to figure it out. Without someone working alongside him that he could bounce ideas off of, Harry wasn’t sure it wouldn’t take him even longer, especially with everything else he had on his plate.

The book wasn’t truly that long, but it used terminology and concepts that were far beyond anything Harry had seen. It had taken him two weeks to get through the first chapter because he had to check half a dozen advanced transfiguration books just to grasp the concepts it referenced. He had to stop himself regularly just to make sure he didn’t burn out on it.

So when the first weekend outing to Hogsmeade was announced for Halloween, Harry jumped on it.

0oOo0

“So, what do you want to do first, Susan?” Harry asked with his best winning smile.

Susan smiled back. “Let’s go to Honeydukes! My auntie always gets me chocolate from there for my birthday, and it’s sooo good, you’ll love it.”

Susan grabbed his hand and pulled him along to the famous sweet shop. Like so many things Harry had seen in the Wizarding World, Honeydukes didn’t seem to understand the concept of restraint. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, and there wasn’t a single inch that wasn’t covered in some kind of delectable treat.

Susan never let go of Harry’s hand as she led him to the custom chocolates and Special Effect candies. Harry bought a little bit of everything Susan recommended, figuring that even if he didn’t like something, someone in the castle would.

After Honeydukes, Susan and Harry headed for Gladrags, the clothing shop. Harry had fun watching Susan model for him, and she convinced him to buy her a few of the outfits. A bit more expensive than Harry had been planning to spend, but the investments he had made over the summer were already paying off, so it wasn’t like he didn’t have money to spend. He added a pair of bright red socks that would scream loudly when they got too dirty to the pile. Wally would get a kick out of them, especially with all the comments he got about his feet after a mission.

Finally, Harry and Susan traipsed out to the Shrieking Shack on the outskirts of the village.

“So, this is supposed to be the most haunted building in Britain? Because Hogwarts has a mess of ghosts.”

“Oh yeah,” Susan said. “Auntie Amelia told me all about it. The man who lived here two hundred years ago, he was a really bad guy. She didn’t give me all the details, but apparently he killed a lot of people in there. Like, dozens of people over forty years or something.”

“Really?”

“That’s what auntie said. After they found out what he was doing, they sent him to Azkaban, of course, and nobody wanted to move in.”

“I can’t say I blame them. I don’t think I’d want to live there either.”

“That’s why they knocked it down. Nobody wanted to live there, and the villagers didn’t want the reminder, I guess.”

“So if they knocked it down, why’s there still a building here?”

Susan shrugged. “Somebody rebuilt it a couple decades ago, but the screaming and everything started right back up again. It’s been empty ever since.”

“And now it’s a tourist attraction for curious Hogwarts students.”

“Heh,” Susan snorted. “I don’t think most of them know the story, but yeah, I guess it is.

Harry stared up at the dilapidated building, but for a building that was supposed to be more haunted than Hogwarts, it was awfully quiet. “You know, we should get back to castle if we don’t want to be late for the feast.”

Susan nodded, but didn’t move to leave.

“Susan? Something wrong?” Harry asked, stepping close and putting a hand on her shoulder.

Susan leaned in and pressed her lips to Harry’s. She held the kiss for a few seconds before stepping back with a shy smile. “I had a really great time today, Harry. Thank you.”

“I had a good time too,” Harry said with a grin of his own. “Soooo…”

Susan’s shy smile morphed into a playful grin. “Race you back to the castle!”

Harry watched her run for a few moments. “Oh, it is on, Bones, you’re going down!”

0oOo0

The Halloween feast was magnificent. The Great Hall was filled with hundreds of floating candlelit pumpkins, and orange streamers swam through the air. There was even a cloud of live bats fluttering around, and Harry knew there was some kind of magic going on there, because he’d spent enough time under bats to know that it didn’t go as well as it was without magic.

Harry piled his plate up with thirds of everything, and cheered as the ghosts of Hogwarts put on a show for the school. They flew in formation and did some trick flying before reenacting some of their more entertaining deaths, Nearly Headless Nick’s and the Fat Friar’s were particularly well received.

After the feast ended, the Hufflepuffs had barely made it back to their dorm before Professor Sprout showed up to escort them all back to the Great Hall.

Sirius Black had found his way into the castle.

0oOo0

How did he get in?

That was the question on everyone’s lips, even after the massive slumber party in the Great Hall. Hannah was convinced that Black could turn into a flowering shrub, and told her theory to anyone who would listen. Harry acknowledged that it was possible Black could do that, but he was baffled as to how it might help Black enter the castle.

What he did know, however, was that he needed more information. And he had a pretty good idea of where to find it.

“Professor McGonagall?” Harry asked as he stood in the doorway to her office. “Can I talk to you?”

Professor McGonagall looked up from the stack of papers she was grading. “What can I help you with, Mr. Potter?”

Harry stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. “It’s about Sirius Black.”

Professor McGonagall looked pained, but didn’t say anything about it. “Sit down, Mr. Potter. What about him?”

“I’ve looked through the library for information, but there’s not a lot there. All I really found was an old Daily Prophet article and a class listing. You were his Head of House, weren’t you?”

The old teacher sighed. “Yes, that’s correct. As ashamed as I am to admit it, he was a Gryffindor. Same year as your mother and father. But I’m not sure what I can tell you, Mr. Potter. Clearly, the Sirius Black I knew was not the person he really was.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “The Sirius Black I knew was a happy, laughing young man, and before that Halloween, anybody who met him would say he was your father’s best friend.”

“Best friend?” Harry asked. He hadn’t heard that before.

“Oh yes. Those two got into more trouble together than any other students I’ve ever had come through Gryffindor House, though Fred and George Weasley are certainly giving them a run for their money. They were inseparable throughout their time at school, and even after they left. In fact, Sirius Black was best man at your parents’ wedding.”

“No one’s told me that.”

“Betrayal is a difficult subject to talk about, Mr. Potter. It’s not easy to remember painful memories.” Indeed, Professor McGonagall looked like the conversation was weighing on her, making the lines on her face deeper, making her look just that much older.

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized, and he meant it. “I’m just trying to figure it out. Everyone says that Sirius Black is coming after me, but if that’s the case, why didn’t he try and get into the Hufflepuff dorm? There’s no way I’d be in the Gryffindor Tower.”

“If Sirius Black wasn’t mad before he entered Azkaban, Mr. Potter, he most certainly is now. Thinking clearly is most likely beyond his capabilities, not that that makes him any less dangerous. Your parents were both model Gryffindor students, and exemplified the best parts of the House. It’s entirely possible that Black hasn’t considered the possibility that you’d be Sorted into any other House.”

Harry nodded. “I see.”

Professor McGonagall looked at him seriously. “I know you’re concerned, but this really isn’t something you should have to worry about, Mr. Potter. You’re safe at Hogwarts, and as long as I remain here, you will stay safe.”

Harry shook his head. “Information saves lives, Professor… But if you’re uncomfortable talking about this, I can go.”

Professor McGonagall didn’t look like she wanted to, but she nodded. Harry stood up to leave. “I’m just not sure what I can tell you. I know you want to know more, but this isn’t something anyone wants to talk about, and I’m sorry for that. If you need to know something more, come back again another day, but whatever you do, please don’t go to Professor Lupin. He was also in your father’s year, and as much as I hate myself for not discovering Black sooner, it’s nothing compared to how Remus feels. I know you wouldn’t do so intentionally, but he doesn’t need you making him feel worse.”

“I understand.” He didn’t like it, and if Sirius Black got into the castle again, he probably wouldn’t obey, but he understood.

MrRigger

[jgkitarel]

Well, I see that particular gun that you had lying around since Harry's first year finally got fired. It only took the twins two years to figure out how to pull the trigger. In most wizards, that would be considered progress, but those two are smart and adaptable in their thinking. Now, I wonder how long it will be before they figure out that the book was deliberately left there for them to distract them.

[MrRigger2]

The Twins are smart and adaptive, but Dumbledore also wrote his Animagus Manual to be as obtuse as possible. He purposefully made it so that a motivated person would be able to become an Animagus (provided they have the ability), but that they would be stymied fairly regularly, and care would have to be taken. With the way I'm envisioning it, two years is honestly not a bad time. And while it's been a while, I hadn't completely forgotten about it. Part fifty-three, on page 7, has Harry confronting Fred and George after they've been suspected as the ones behind petrifying Mrs. Norris. He finds them in an empty classroom with a case of butterbeer and a book that they close and hide out of view as soon as he enters. That book was the Animagus book. I don't know if anyone caught it at the time, but I'm hoping it's something people might catch on a second read.

MrRigger

[jgkitarel]

It's more an observation that if it were anyone but Fred and George, I would have been highly impressed. I know why it got left for them, and why Albus recommended it be that book. The two of them are highly intelligent, but reckless and need something that would force them to slow down and be careful for a change. That he lured them with something that would actually have them motivated on something shows how well he knows their personalities.

[MrRigger2]

Part Eighty!

Spoiler: show

When Harry walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts class the day after his conversation with Professor McGonagall, he stopped short. Instead of the shabby Professor Lupin, Professor Snape was standing at the front of the classroom glowering at the students like a gargoyle.

The class filed in, their loud conversations dropping off into mutters as they saw the Potions Professor behind the desk. The moment the bell rang, Professor Snape started talking. “Professor Lupin has taken ill, and despite his responsibilities as a teacher, will not be teaching for the next several days.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Ron Weasley asked, forgetting to raise his hand.

Professor Snape sneered. “He has taken ill, which you would know if you paid attention. Nothing life threatening, but evidently serious enough that he has seen fit to neglect his obligations.”

Ron reddened as Professor Snape moved a few papers around the desk. “I see Professor Lupin has also neglected to leave a record of the subjects he has already covered in class.”

Hermione’s hand shot into the air. “Professor Snape, sir, we’ve covered boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows, and we’re supposed to be starting on—“

“Silence,” Professor Snape interrupted. “I wasn’t looking for a summary, I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin’s lack of organization and preparation. I have already decided what we will be covering in class today. Open your books to page 394.” When half the class moved too slowly for his liking, he snapped, “Your books! Now!”

Ernie was the first one to find the right page. “Werewolves? Professor Snape, we’re supposed to be starting hinkypunks today,” he tried to explain.

“Hinkypunks are hardly appropriate material for a Third Year class,” Professor Snape sneered. “I’d expect a First Year to be able to deal with a hinkypunk. Red Caps and grindylows as well, for that matter. It’s hardly my fault if you are all woefully unprepared. But I will not waste my time teaching beneath the level you are supposed to be at, I assure you. Now then, who can tell me the differences between a werewolf and a true wolf?”

Harry raised his hand tentatively. He knew that trying to answer one of Professor Snape’s questions was usually a trap, and he hadn’t done much reading on werewolves after finding out they were only dangerous during the full moon, but the only other person who seemed willing to even try and answer was Hermione, who was being very purposefully ignored.

“Oh, Potter? Perhaps your answers in this class will prove more entertaining than anything you’ve done for Potions.”

Harry scowled. His Potions marks were respectable, and for any reasonable person, his answers would be perfectly fine, but Professor Snape seemed determined to find fault no matter how correct his answer was.

“Werewolves are bigger than regular wolves, usually about fifty percent larger,” Harry said.

“Apparently hoping your deficiencies restricted solely to Potions was too much, Potter,” Professor Snape sneered. “An average adult werewolf is larger than an equivalent true wolf, but what about an adolescent werewolf? He would be no larger than an adult wolf. Or what about a child werewolf? If you were solely reliant on size to determine if a creature is truly a werewolf, you would be dead, Potter. Size is a feature of a werewolf, but it is not a distinguishing one, not if you want to stay alive.”

Professor Snape sent a disdainful look at Harry and began to lecture in earnest. By the end of class, everyone had several pages of furiously scribbled notes on werewolves, but Professor Snape wasn’t done.

“You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand.”

The class groaned, with the loudest complaints coming from the Gryffindors. Their team was playing Slytherin this weekend, and a lengthy essay would certainly hurt their enjoyment of the game.

0oOo0

The day of the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match, it rained. Actually, to call it rain was to do the weather a disservice, it was a torrential downpour. While most of the school still attended, Harry stayed inside. It was considered bad form for Quidditch Team members not to attend every match, but between the extra essay and the rain, Harry couldn’t bring himself to spend a few hours getting soaked.

As it turned out, not going to the game had proved to be a good decision. With the emotions running high from the match, it had apparently been a feast too delectable for the Dementors to ignore. Harry watched from the library window as the Dementors swept across the grounds like a black wave, leaving the sodden ground frozen where they passed.

Harry hastily stuffed his essay in his bag and raced out of the library, leaving most of his books on the table. He’d catch hell from Madame Pince if he got caught, but this was more important.

The Dementors were already dispersing as Harry reached the stadium, being chased off by a shining white phoenix. Fortunately, none of them were dispersing in his direction.

Harry jogged out to the Quidditch Pitch, splashing the whole way. Magic was a wondrous thing, or the Hogwarts Grounds would be a wreck after this storm.

He peered through the rain and saw a familiar head of hair. “Ron!” he shouted, waving his arm to catch the redhead’s attention.

“Harry? Why aren’t you up in the stands?” Ron barely spared him a confused glance before turning his attention back to the game.

“I was up in the library working on that werewolf essay and saw the Dementors! What the hell happened?” Harry yelled over the rain.

“I dunno!” Ron bellowed back. “The Dementors went crazy, I guess! Ginny was diving for the Snitch when they showed up, she ended up bailing out off her broom! That’s why I came down from the stands, to see if she was alright!” Ron grinned madly. “Not a scratch! Doing the Weasley name proud, she is!”

Harry looked up at the fliers. He’d take Ron’s word for it that his sister was still up there, playing Seeker, because he couldn’t tell who was who, not in the heavy rain. “Why didn’t they stop the match?”

Ron looked at him like Harry had just grown a second head, and it was spouting insults against his mother. “Why would they stop the match? Hooch called time while Dumbledore chased the Dementors away, but it’s not like this is the first time a Quidditch Match was attacked by rampaging Magical Creatures! Not even the first time at Hogwarts!”

Harry stared at Ron, dumbfounded. “You’re all crazy, you know that?”

“What can I say, it’s Quidditch!”

0oOo0

Harry slipped into the Potions classroom as the last Second Year fled. Given the smell that was wafting out the door, it hadn’t been a good class.

“What are you doing here, Potter?” Professor Snape sneered as he waved his wand, vanishing the half-melted cauldron on the front row of desks.

Harry pulled two rolls of parchment out of his bag. “I’m just turning in the werewolf essay you assigned.”

“Professor Lupin has recuperated enough to resume his responsibilities. What makes you think I would want to read your essay?”

“Because that’s what you said,” Harry explained, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Two rolls of parchment on how to identify and kill werewolves, to be handed in to you on Monday morning. I’ve got two rolls of parchment on the subject, it’s Monday, and it’s still well before noon. So here I am, turning it in.”

“Five points from Hufflepuff for your cheek, Potter,” Professor Snape said instantly. Harry didn’t care, he was used to losing points to the Potions professor. Still, he held his hand out for Harry’s essay. “You may not know the first thing about werewolves, but at least you’re learning to follow directions, Potter.”

MrRigger

[MrRigger2]

Part Eighty-One!

Spoiler: show

Harry suspected after writing the werewolf essay, but he felt sure after the next full moon. Professor Lupin was a werewolf. He’d been out of classes every full moon since classes had started, and fit the other classic signs of lycanthropy.

And really, the name was a bit of a tip off. With a name like Remus Lupin, there was an eighty percent chance that he would become a wolf-themed supervillain. Being a werewolf was hardly a surprise.

Not that Harry had a problem with werewolves. From everything he’d read, they were only as dangerous as the average wizard the rest of the month, if a little more prone towards desperate acts due to the prejudice they faced. A disproportionately high percentage were criminals, it seemed, but Professor Lupin seemed to be a fairly upstanding citizen.

Of course, while Harry could feel victorious at figuring out Professor Lupin’s secret, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team couldn’t feel victorious about much at all. Their match against Ravenclaw at the end of November couldn’t have gone much worse if they had tried.

Herbert Fleet, the returning Keeper, woke up the morning of the match with Dragon Pox, so he was out for the next week, even with Madam Pomfrey treating him. With no Keeper, the Ravenclaw Chasers had a free run at the goal every time they got the Quaffle. Harry ended up spending most of the game playing defense, but Ravenclaws Beaters were too good, and kept breaking up the Hufflepuff formations whenever they tried to go on offense.

It took five hours for Cedric to catch the Snitch, and by that point, the damage was done. Harry didn’t like thinking about what the final score was, as no Snitch could make up the difference five hours of no Keeper made. Unless something drastic happened, Ravenclaw had both the Quidditch and the House Cups sown up for the year.

At least the weather was obliging enough to match Hufflepuff’s collective funk, as the days got shorter and colder. The chilly rain persisted into December, until it turned to snow one frosty morning. The snow itself wasn’t enough to lift Hufflepuff’s spirits, but being able to peg passing Ravenclaw students with snowballs certainly helped.

It was the second day after the ongoing battle began that Dick called Harry while he was trying to heal his black eye.

“Hey Harry, got a minute?” Dick asked as the video connection was established. Then he saw Harry’s face and laughed. “What happened to your face? Don’t tell me your school has supervillains.”

“I’m just going to say that Ravenclaws are bad winners and really good at planning ambushes,” Harry said as he pulled out a jar of bruise ointment. He’d brewed some up after he got tired of having to visit Madame Pomfrey after every Quidditch Practice. “What’d you need?”

It took Dick a moment to contain himself. “Ugh, that stuff looks like it smells terrible,” he chuckled.

Harry grimaced. “It really does. Heals bruises in about five minutes, though. The nurse has a version that doesn’t smell half as bad, but I don’t know how to brew it.”

“Let me know when you figure out something to heal broken bones.” Dick waved his cast covered hand. “Had another ‘skiing accident’. In unrelated news, Bane is back in town.”

“Good to know. And it depends on the break. Clean breaks and fractures are usually healed with spells. Skele-Grow doesn’t get pulled out unless you get hurt bad enough that it’s easier to just remove the bones and regrow them.”

“How’s it do with regular breaks? I can float you the cash to buy me some.” Dick plucked the cast irritably.

“How do painful extraneous bone growths sound?” Harry asked.

“I think I’ll pass, no matter how traneous they may be.”

“So, what’s going on? I assume you didn’t call just to talk about the intricacies of magical bone mending.”

Dick shrugged. “Well, I was kind of hoping you’d have something for me… But there was something else. Are we clear?”

Harry glanced around and nodded. Dick continued. “There’s a new member of the Team.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Really? This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

“That’s cause this is the first I’m telling you about it.”

“You know what I mean. I figured you mention it if the Team was scouting a new member.”

“Eh, it’s not really new. It’s Garfield Logan.”

“The kid Megan always visits? Didn’t his mother die a while back?”

“Car accident, or so goes the official report. Megan’s been a shoulder to cry on since it happened.”

“So why are we bringing him in? He’s got to be younger than me when I first joined,” Harry said, just a little bitter.

“I doubt he’s going to be doing any missions any time soon, but we’re going to need to do something with him. According to the tests we did, he had a good chance at being positive for the Meta-Gene, and that blood transfer Megan gave him when they first met jump started it,” Dick explained.

Harry closed his eyes. “What happened?”

“Got upset and turned into an angry green gorilla during Megan’s last visit. Smashed up the whole food court before she got him calmed down.”

“Having some more muscle on the Team wouldn’t hurt,” Harry admitted grudgingly.

“Not just muscle,” Dick grinned. “So far, we haven’t been able to come up with an animal he can’t transform into.”

“Hm. I’ll have to show him my Magical Creatures book, see if he can do them too, or if he’s limited to regular animals.” Harry narrowed his eyes. “He pick a name yet?”

Dick slapped his forehead and sighed. “Unfortunately, he has come up with a number of suggestions.”

Harry snickered. “I could use a laugh. Lay ‘em on me.”

“First one was the Animal Avenger.”

“Sounds like a crazed veterinarian.”

“That’s what Artemis said. How about the Creature Contortionist?”

Harry shuddered. “Either he does terrible things to fluffy animals, or he makes balloon animals for kids at parties.”

“I know, right? Were-Everything.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Did he make that suggestion seriously? Because that’s a terrible name.”

Dick shook his head ruefully. “I’m aware. And yes, he was serious. What do you think of this one? Shadow of the Shifter.”

“So we’re firmly in the ‘I’m angsty and badass like Batman’ section, is that it?”

Dick nodded. “He was in the room at that point, yes.”

“Is he aware we have to be able to use this codename on missions? Shadow of the Shifter is way too long for the middle of a fight.”

Dick shrugged. “We were thinking of shortening it just to Shifter. I think it’s the best thing we’ve come up with so far.”

Harry shook his head quickly. “Shifter’s a bad idea. How easy would it be to turn that ‘f’ to another ‘t’?”

“Heh heh heh. Wally and I thought about that, but didn’t want to say anything with the kid in the room. He’s kind of sheltered.” Dick frowned. “Megan’s not actually helping with that, either.”

“Hmph. Well, you know he’s probably not like you or me, Dick. Not everybody works the way we do. As long as her mothering doesn’t get in the way of training, I’d leave it alone.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Bruce has done the best he can for us, but we’re not exactly normal, are we?”

“Eh, normal’s overrated. I like to think beating the crap out of Penguin every time he pokes his head out has done wonders for my mental health.”

Dick scratched his head. “I know what you mean, but you may not want to spread that sentiment around. I know tracking down Zucco helped me, but the rest of the Team wouldn’t get it.”

“Artemis might.”

“Yeah, but look at her family. She’s just as screwed up as you and me. Wally says he understands, but he’s a superhero because he idolized Flash and recreated a science experiment. He’s my best friend, but he doesn’t get it.”

“Well, that’s why we do what we do, isn’t it? So other people won’t have to get it like we do?”

“I guess you’re right. Oh, I’ve got one more. Faunalad.”

“That’s awful. Seriously, that’s awful. Dick, do not let him be Faunalad, I will never take him seriously.”

“I hear that.”

You know what's hard about writing HP fanfic? The stretches of time where nothing happens. Nothing happens between the beginning of November and the end of December. It's just a big span of time where nothing happens, and I've got nothing I can work with as far as canon goes.

MrRigger

[MrRigger2]

Part Eighty-Two!

Spoiler: show

Sirius Black shivered and burrowed deeper into his makeshift bed. It wasn’t much, just cast off clothes and things he’d managed to steal from around Hogsmeade, with some wadded up newspaper for padding and warmth, but it was better than nothing. And at least as Padfoot he had fur.

He’d probably end up freezing to death this winter if he didn’t. If it got much colder, he still might.

Padfoot could see the sunlight coming in mouth of the cave, and stretched as only a dog can. His joints creaked and popped noisily, and Padfoot pushed past the discomfort.

It was the day.

At least, he thought it was the day. He had thought it was the day twice already, but they always said third time was the charm.

It certainly was with that Puff from Fifth Year. He grinned at the memory.

Padfoot shook once more before trotting off in the direction of Hogsmeade. When he got closer, he decided that today was definitely the day.

Hogsmeade was bustling with activity, all the stores and shops preparing for the students to arrive.

Today he’d get to Harry.

0oOo0

Padfoot didn’t find Harry until the morning was half gone, and his feet were half frozen from walking around in the snow. He did charm a few pretty witches into hitting him with a Warming Charm, but that wouldn’t last forever.

Harry was walking out of Dervish & Banges with Padfoot finally saw him. He had a witch hanging on his arm, wearing Hufflepuff colors.

He still didn’t understand how Harry could possibly be a Puff, but at least he knew how to play Quidditch. James would be so proud that Harry was following in his footsteps as a Chaser.

Padfoot wandered over to Harry and his date, trying not to look like he was aiming directly for them, and he ended up getting waylaid by a trio of Fourth Years. They petted him and scratched his head, and even if Harry was moving away, Padfoot couldn’t bring himself to make them stop. He’d been without human contact for so long, he couldn’t pass it up, even if they just thought he was a dog.

Padfoot played the friendly dog and trotted up to Harry, but as it usually did, his size worked against him. Being big enough to fight a werewolf was good when he actually had a werewolf to fight, but not so good when he had to beg for food.

Harry’s date hid behind him as Padfoot got close, and Harry put a hand out. Padfoot stopped. Well, Harry may have good Quidditch instincts, but he obviously needed to work on his dating instincts if he’s choosing girls who are scared of dogs.

Padfoot whined and set his head down on his front paws, still staring up at Harry with the sad puppy dog eyes. He was out of practice, but every little bit helped, and he knew they worked on the widow at the end of the street.

Harry kept his hands out in front of him and took a small step forward. “Calm down there, Ace, just calm down. You’re making Sally nervous.” He took another step forward. “Are you going to stay still? Are you a good dog?”

Padfoot’s tail started wagging. He couldn’t help it. James used to make fun of him for it, wagging his tail anytime someone called him a good dog, but it wasn’t like he could control it.

“Stay, stay,” Harry was saying, and Padfoot didn’t move. This was going too well. Harry reached out and scratched his head. “Hm, no collar. Where do you belong, Ace?”

Padfoot whimpered. He belonged in Azkaban, after what he did that night, but he’d die before he went back there.

“Come pet him Sally, he’s friendly. Aren’t you Ace?”

Harry’s date was nervous, but Padfoot was a good dog. He rolled over and showed her his belly, and his tail thumped against the ground, scattering snow as it moved.

Padfoot luxuriated under their touch for the next few minutes. Sally was nervous, but warmed up to him quickly.

Dominic Maestro, the ancient owner of Hogsmeade’s music shop, stepped outside to see who was blocking his door. “Do you know who owns this dog?” Harry asked. “I don’t see a collar.”

Maestro shook his head. “I’ve never seen him with an owner, but he must have one. He’s too well trained not to belong to someone.”

Harry scratched Padfoot behind the ears one last time and stood up. “Alright, time for you to go home, Ace. Go on.”

Padfoot tried licking Harry’s hand to get him to come with him, but he wasn’t having it. Well, at least Harry wasn’t stupid, even if it made things harder for him. Padfoot whined as he watched Harry and his date walk off.

The day wasn’t a total disappointment, he got to see Harry, he begged enough food off the students that he wasn’t starving, and he didn’t get caught. The Dementors had taken to patrolling the village after dark, and Padfoot had to make sure he was back in his cave before the sun went down.

Padfoot’d heard the Hogsmeade natives complain that if he’d beaten the Dementors once, there was no reason to expect them to be able to catch him. It was a nice sentiment, but it was wrong. He knew that if the Dementors found him, there wasn’t anything he could do to stop them from Kissing him.

Still, he had a new happy memory, one that the Dementors hadn’t eaten. That made today worth it.

I'm not sure about this part, but I felt I needed something in here before I moved on.

MrRigger