It didn't take long for Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Uncle Lupin.

"Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Uncle Lupin passed him. "He dresses like our old house-elf."

But no one else cared that Uncle Lupin had patched robes. All of his lessons were just as interesting as the first. After boggarts, we studied Red Caps, goblin like creatures that lurked wherever there has been bloodshed: dungeons of castles and potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps we moved on to Kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like monkeys with scales, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

I only wish other classes were as entertaining. Potions was just awful. Snape was livid, and there's not doubt as to why. The story of the boggart assuming Snape's appearance, and the way Neville dressed him in his grandmother's clothes and I putting him in seventy's disco clothes and Afro, had traveled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn't find it funny. His eyes flash menacingly every time Uncle Lupin's name came up, and he was bullying Neville more than ever. I'm thinking of a good prank to try on him. Maybe Fred, George, and the Rhee's will help.

Divination wasn't very fun either. It was stifling hot up in Trelawney's tower room. Trelawney has this habit of dramatically bursting into tears when she saw Harry. I didn't like her much, despite most students respecting bordering on reverencing her. Parvati and Lavender have taken to  spending lunch in her room, and always returned with smug superior looks on their faces, as though they knew something we didn't. I wish I could punch them.

Nobody really likes Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the first class had gotten really dull. Hagrid seems to have completely lost any self-confidence he had with his lessons, and that just makes me sad. We now spend lesson after lesson learning how to take care of Flobberworms, which are the most boring creatures on the planet.

"Why would anyone bother looking after them?" Ron asked, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms' slimy throats.

At the start of October, however, Quidditch season was fast approaching, and Oliver Wood, Gryffindor's captain, promised we'd win this year.

Harry was Seeker for our team, so he was training with the rest, three evenings per week. 

The weather got colder and wetter, the nights darker, yet the team still practiced.

One night while Harry was out at practice, a notice went up, telling us about the first Hogsmede weekend. Naturally, that was all the common room could talk about.

"What happened?" Harry asked Ron, Hermione, and I when he returned from practice. I was working on the star chart for Astronomy with Ron and Hermione.

"First Hogsmede weekend," Ron answers, pointing at the notice on the battered old bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."

"Excellent," said Fred, who had followed Harry through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of stink pellets."

Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron. His smile was fading.

"Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time, "Hermione says. "They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already."

"You should go ask McGonagall if you can go, Harry." I say. "I highly doubt Black'll try anything in Hogsmede, and Mom did sign the form."

"I'm pretty sure the Ministry outranks Aunt Jamie on this occasion, Clara." Harry says.

"So? You should still ask."

"Clara!" says Hermione. "Harry's supposed to stay in school-"

"He can't be the only third year left behind." Ron puts in his two cents. "Ask McGonagall, go on, Harry-"

"Yeah, I think I will," says Harry.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment Crookshanks leapt lightly onto her lap. A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.

"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" Ron asked, scowling.

"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" said Hermione.

Crookshanks slowly chewed up the spider, his yellow eyes fixed insolently on Ron. This confirms my cats are evil theory. He's trying to torture Ron. I turned my gaze back to the star chart.

"Just keep him over there, that's all," said Ron irritably. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."

I heard Harry yawn. He pulled his bag toward him, took out parchment, ink, and a quill, and started work.

"You can copy mine, if you want," I said, as I labeled the last star, and shoved the chart toward Harry.

Hermione, who disproves of copying, pursed her lips but didn't say anything. Who cares, 'Mione? It's just once and the poor boy's exhausted. Crookshanks was still staring unblinkingly at Ron, flicking the end of his bushy tail. Then without warning, he pounced.

"OY!" Ron roared, seizing his bag as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deeply into it and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"

Ron tried to pull the bag away from Crookshanks, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.

"Ron, don't hurt him!" Hermione squealed; the whole common room was watching; Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top-

"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yelled as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table, and chased after the terrified Scabbers.

George Weasley made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs, and started making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.

Ron and Hermione hurried over; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.

"Look at him!" he said furiously at Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. "He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"

"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" said Hermione, her voice shaking. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"

"There's something funny about that animal!" said Ron, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. "It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"

"Oh, what rubbish," said Hermione impatiently. "Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d'you think-"

"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" said Ron, ignoring the people around him, who were starting to giggle. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"

Ron marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

*Time Skip* Brought By Black Dogs

Ron was still angry with Hermione the next day. He barely talked to her all through Herbology, even though he, Harry, Hermione, and I were working together on the same puffapod.

"How's Scabbers?" Hermione asked timidly as we stripped fat pink pods from the plants and emptied the shining beans into a wooden pail.

"He's hiding at the bottom of my bed, shaking," said Ron angrily, missing the pail and scattering beans over the greenhouse floor.

"Good job, Genius." I say sarcastically.

"Careful, Weasley, careful!" cried Professor Sprout as the beans burst into bloom before our eyes.

We have Transfiguration next. As we waited in line outside the classroom, there was a disturbance at the front of the line.

Lavender Brown was crying. Parvati had her arm around her and was explaining something to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were looking very serious.

"What's the matter, Lavender?" said Hermione anxiously as she, Harry, Ron, and I went to join the group.

"She got a letter from home this morning." Parvati whispered. "It's he rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."

"Oh," said Hermione. "I'm sorry, Lavender."

Poor, bunny. It shouldn't have died.

"I should have known!" cried Lavender tragically. "You know what day it is?"

"Er-"

"The sixteenth of October! 'The thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? She was right, she was right!"

Trelawney got really lucky. No person can have that much luck. It's impossible.

The whole class was gathered around Lavender now. Seamus shook his head seriously. Trelawney seems to have gotten really lucky. Hermione hesitated; then she said, "You-you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?"

No, 'Mione, no! Don't do it! Keep your mouth shut, 'Mione. This is not a time to call Trelawney a fraud. Even if she is.

"Well, not necessarily by a fox," said Lavender, looking up at Hermione with streaming eyes, "but I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn't I?"

"Oh," says Hermione. She paused again. Then-

"Was Binky an old rabbit?"

"N-no!" sobbed Lavender. "H-he was only a baby!"

And now my heartstrings are tugging. Poor baby bunny.

Parvati tightened her arm around Lavender's shoulders.

"But then, why would you dread him dying?" asks Hermione.

I resisted the urge to slap her. Hermione, you dolt!

Parvati glared at her, and I don't blame her for it.

"Well, look at it logically," said Hermione, turning to the rest of the group. "I mean, Binky didn't even die today, did he? Lavender just got the news today"-Lavender wailed loudly-"and she can't have been dreading it, because it's come as a real shock-"

"Don't mind Hermione, Lavender," said Ron loudly. "She doesn't think other people's pets matter very much."

Minnie opened the classroom door at that moment, which was lucky; Hermione and Ron looked ready for a fight, and when they got into class, they sat down on either side of Harry and me. They didn't talk to each other for the whole class.

The bell rang to mark the end of the lesson, but Minnie held us back.

"One moment, please!" she called as the class made to leave. "As you're all in my House, you should hand Hogsmede permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget!"

Neville put up his hand.

"Please, Professor, I-I think I've lost-"

"Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom." said Minnie. "She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that's all, you may leave."

"Ask her now," Ron hissed at Harry.

"Oh, but-" Hermione began.

"Shut up, 'Mione. Go for it, Harry." I say stubbornly.

Harry waited for the rest of the class to disappear, then headed nervously for Minnie's desk.

"Yes, Potter?"

Harry took a deep breath.

"Professor, I was wondering if I was allowed to go to Hogsmede. Aunt Jamie signed it but-"

Minnie looked at Harry over her square spectacles. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but the Minister of Magic has ordered that you are not allowed outside the grounds. He feels this would be unsafe."

"But-Professor, my aunt Jamie signed the form-she's my legal guardian," Harry continued as Ron and I egged him on by nodding at him. "wouldn't her permission kind of negate the Minister's worries?"

"Normally it would, Mr. Potter, but the Minister, Dumbledore, and Jamie Black came to an agreement. You are not allowed in Hogsmede until Sirius Black is caught once more." She looked at Harry. Is that pity? Aww, Minnie cares. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but that's my final word. You had better hurry, or you'll be late for your next lesson."

*Time Skip* By Nymphadora's multi-colored hair (A.N Sorry Tonks! Replaced Nymphadora with Tonks! Terribly sorry Tonks!)

There was nothing we could do. Ron called Minnie a lot of names that greatly annoyed Hermione; Hermione assumed an "all-for-the-best" expression that made Ron and I even angrier, and Harry was forced to endure everyone in class talking loudly and happily about what they were going to do first, once they got into Hogsmede.

Mom sent a letter when I asked her about what McGonagall said.

Clara,

Yes, it is true. Dumbledore and Fudge did come and talk to me. They came to our house to talk about Sirius. I couldn't tell them something I've discovered, because they wouldn't believe me. Not until I have proof, anyway. Back to the point, I couldn't let Harry into Hogsmede until they catch Sirius, or I clear his name. 

You know what needs to be done, Clara. Find the map. Show Harry the passage to Honeydukes. The map'll tell you how to get into it. Oh, and I give you Marauder permission to keep the map. James had the cloak. No doubt Dumbledore gave that back to Harry. You're the kid of two marauders, so that gives you a greater right over the map in my opinion.

Love,

Mom

I don't know how she expects me to steal the map back from Filch. Especially single-handed. If I get that map back, I'm doing it myself. I don't want to explain it all to Harry.

"There's always the feast," Ron said, in effort to cheer Harry up. "You know, the Halloween feast, in her evening."

"Yeah," said Harry gloomily, "great."

Nothing anybody said cheered Harry up. Dean offered to forge Mom's signature, but Harry told him that wasn't the reason why he couldn't go. Dean was nice enough to no t ask why. I half-halfheartedly suggested the cloak; but Hermione shut that one down, remind us dementors can see through them. Percy offered the worst words of comfort I've ever heard. 

"The make a fuss about Hogsmede, but I assure you, Harry, it's not all it's cracked up to be," He said seriously. "All right, the sweet shop's rather good, and Zonko's Joke Shop's frankly dangerous, and yes, the Shrieking Shack's always worth a visit, but really, Harry, apart from that, you're not missing anything."

I rolled my eyes. Such comforting words, Percy.

*Time Skip* Brought By the SOULS of all Monsters

On Halloween morning, I awoke with everyone else and wend down to breakfast, absolutely excited. Harry seemed alright, probably for our sakes.

"We'll bring you lots of sweets back from Honeydukes," said Hermione looking desperately sorry for him.

"Yeah loads," said Ron. The only bright side for Harry not being allowed to go to Hogsmede was that the pair of them had forgotten their squabble about Crookshanks.

"All the stuff we can carry." I promised.

"Don't worry about me," said Harry, "I'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."

He walked with us down to the entrance hall, where Filch was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.

"Staying here, Potter?" shouted Malfoy, who was standing in line with Crabbe and Goyle. "Scared of passing the dementors?"

I roll my eyes. If I get the chance I'm going to attack them with mud clumps. Then we'll see how his blonde hair looks then.

The thought made me smile.

*Time Skip* Brought by the taste of Butterbeer! I really should bring Harry some of this stuff!

"Here you go," I said, dropping sweets onto Harry's lap. "As much as the three of us could carry, as promised."

It was dusk out, and Ron, Hermione, and I had just gotten to the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind, and grinning from having such and awesome time.

"Thanks," said Harry, picking up a packet of black Pepper Imps. "What's Hogsmede like? Where did you go?"

We told him about everything. Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, my favorite, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot butterbeer (I could drink nothing but this and be happy), and many places besides.

"The post office, Harry! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!" Hermione gushes. Only Hermione could be excited about post owls.

"Honeydukes has a got a new kind of fudge; they were giving out free samples, there's a bit, look-" Ron points out.

"We think we saw an ogre, no I'm being serious, they get all sorts of people in the Three Broomsticks-" I tell him excitedly.

"We wish we could have brought you some butterbeer, really warms you up-" Ron says.

"What did you do?" asks Hermione, looking anxious. Right, it doesn't seem very nice to rub all the cool stuff we did in Harry's face. "Did you get any work done?"

"No," said Harry. "Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office. And then Snape came in. . . ."

He told us all about Snape bringing in a goblet full of some sort of potion. Lupin drank it. Wolfsbane Potion! Snape must have made it for him to help with his werewolf thing.

Ron's mouth fell open.

"Lupin drank it?" he gasped. "Is he mad?"

Hermione checked her watch.

"We'd better go down, you know the feast'll be starting in five minutes. . . ." we hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Snape. 

"But if he-you know"-Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around-"if he was trying to-to poison Lupin-he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry."

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry as we reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant water snakes. I so want one of them to sneak up on Emma and scare her.

The food was amazing; even Hermione, Ron, and I managed seconds, despite already being full of Honeydukes sweets. Harry keeps glancing at Uncle Lupin, looking for signs of illness. Or more than usual.

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

It was such a pleasant evening. Not even Malfoy shouting, "The dementors send their love, Potter!" bothered me.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when we reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, we found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.

"What's going on?" I asked, as I stood on my tiptoes, trying to see over people's heads. I think the portrait is closed.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password-excuse me, I'm Head Boy-"

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. I heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick!"

What happened? Did someone get hurt? I felt a knot of fear in my stomach.

"What's going on?" asked Ginny, who had just arrived.

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was here, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I moved closer to see what was going on.

 "Oh, my-" Hermione grabbed Harry's arm.

"Holy Hera!" I whisper.

The Fat Lady vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed viciously by something so that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.

Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Minnie, Uncle Lupin, and Snape hurrying towards him.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go find Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice. I agreed with it. Have you seen how many paintings there are in this castle?

It was Peeves, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly., and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Even Peeves isn't that stupid. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his stupid cackle.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing," he added, convincing nobody.

"Did she say who did it?" asked Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a enormous bombshell. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

No! No! No! No! No! This isn't right! No!

Song: "Life is a highway" by Rascal Flats