Chapter Sixteen |Year Three|

When Amelie and Draco had headed out to Hogsmeade, there were some things that had happened at the beloved realm of Hogwarts. While they were enjoying themselves fairly well, Harry had been experiencing growing pains from his scar, and when they arrived back and headed to sleep, within the hour, Ron was writhing in his sleep and screaming.

"I'm telling you, I saw him!" screamed Ron at his brother, Percy, who was looking properly miffed. Of course, their loud conversation woke some of their fellow Gryffindors up.

"What's all the noise?"

"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!"

Around the room came a commotion of bumbling voices, some annoyed that their invaluable sleep was interrupted, some because they were curious about the emerging argument ricketing between the two Weasley brothers.

"Perce - Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

The common room went very still at Ron's outburst.

"Nonsense!" Percy said, "You had too much to eat, Ron - had a nightmare, better start losing weight..."

"I'm telling you - "

"Now, now, really, that's enough!" Professor McGongall's voice resounded into the room, and the portrait door made a sound as it clanged behind her. She glared at the students. "I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridicuous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" Percy wailed, being the sucker-up he was. He puffed up his chest indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron had a nightmare - "

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" Ron informed Professor McGonagall a bit maliciously, pointing a finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's portrait. "Ask him if he saw - "

Professor McGonagall gave him a patronizing stare, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, as she well should. She stood up, pushed open the portrait door, and went to interrogate the loopy knight.

"Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter the Gryffindor tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried the knight.

The whole audience that had started crowding up went silent.

"You - you did?" procaimed Professor McGonagall alarmingly. She calmed her expression. "But, the password."

"He had 'em!" announced Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady , read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

Another silence.

Professor McGonagall pulled a silent, scary appearance as she entered back into the common room. "Which person," she started slowly. "Which abysmally foolish person wrote down the week's passwords and left them lying around?

Another silence.

A terrified squeak sounded from a boy - Neville Longbottom, as he shakily raised his hand.

---

Of course, Amelie hadn't heard this yet. She heard it from the Great Hall in the morning, from Hermione. She idly picked up a small baguette and bit into it, already missing the escargots and cuisses de grenouilles from France.

"So, Neville got a whiplash from the Professor, then?" she guessed.

Hermione nodded. "You guessed it."

Amelie's face didn't betray any emotion; but in truth, she was very panicked from the news. Sirius Black - the crazy mass murderer she had read about from Daphne's magazine - now in her school. That coudn't bring good things.

"Well, gotta go, but we'll talk later, yeah?" she said to her bushy haired friend. The girl nodded.

"Yeah, definitely. I'll go see if Ron's alright - well, actually... he's still really mad so I might go over and see if Neville's alright."

Amelie got up from the table, and wandered aimlessly over to the Slytherin table, and sat in her usual seat, in between Lexi and Daphne. The two of her best friends had, unfortunately, drifted away from one another. They were still maintaining a healthy relationship with Amelie, however. She was the string tying the three together.

Today, Draco was sitting with Adrian Pucey. She didn't give it much thought, it happened once in a while, she supposed. Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be seen, however, which was extremely odd. She didn't see a moment, day or night, when Draco wasn't trailed by his two cronies.

Draco had ended things with Daphne, so she was silent and looked to be a bit depressed. Amelie couldn't feel empathetic. Who would ever feel that dejected by being rejected by her dipshit of a boy best friend?

Adrian leaned over when he saw Amelie. "Hello there, beautiful."

Amelie raised an eyebrow. Since when did Adrian turn into a flirt? "Um, hello, Adrian."

Lexi stuck out her tongue at her older brother. "Stop flirting with my best friend, Adrian. It's not appropriate."

Adrian rolled his eyes at the younger Pucey. "Since when were you ever appropriate? Anyways - I was just telling Amelie that she looks good today. Rocking those jeans."

Draco looked annoyed. "Adrian, I invited you to sit with me today not to flirt with my friends, but to talk about what we should do."

Amelie looked interested. "That so, Draco? What's up."

The sides of Draco's mouth quirked up at being addressed by Amelie. "We're thinking about strategies for Quidditch. But clearly, he isn't for a good Quidditch talk, he bails on me and starts to flirt around with girls," he said, bitterly. Mainly directed towards Adrian. Amelie recalled that Adrian wasn't even on the team.

"Well, okay. Adrian, stop flirting with me. Let's talk Quidditch," she said. Lexi rolled her eyes.

"Quidditch is overrated," she said lazily, plucking her cuticles.

Amelie shrugged. "Maybe."

She switched seats with Daphne as to be closer to the two boys, but before she could open her mouth to start talking, Adrian leaned forward, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

"Do you wanna go on a date with me, Santerre?"

"Nope," she said warily. "Look, let's talk about plays. I drew a few out the other day, I'll go get them really quickly, wait - " she jumped up and rushed to her satchel laying on an empty set, and drew a folder out out of the bag. It was a dark mahogany, with the words 'Quidditch Plays Folder' scrawled on it in neat Sharpie.

Amelie set it down, and smoothened the pages tucked inside the folder. "I have ones for all the houses, like Slytherin vs Gryffindor, Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff, and so on. It's based on their style of playing, so like, you know how Ravenclaw is a strategizer? I bet they have a lot of plays made too - but anyways. They have their strong point, we cancel it out. Or, we just make ourselves better."

In this play, which is #13, aka #4 against Ravenclaw, it's a strategy that I've used before. The chasers feint a lot - I could teach the other chasers, if it's needed, and the seeker- well, the seeker kind of does what Harry did at the Ravenclaw v Gryffindor match that they won recently. I kinda-sorta let him in on the play, and well, he did it perfectly. It's basically where the Seeker fakes seeing the Snitch a lot, but they have to pull a lot of risky moves, like nosedives and such - it's - it's complicated - "

"Okay, woah. Information overload." stated Draco bluntly. "You shared your bloody brilliant folder of plays with Saint Potter?" he rolled his eyes.

"No - what's your problem?" she asked quietly. Adrian scoffed.

"Yeah, she likes me, right babe?"

"What - no - Adrian, I don't - "

"Look, please go out with me to Hogsmeade the next time we're let out?" he asked, his expression softening. Amelie sighed, giving in. Oh, the pains of being nice.

"Fine, fine." she saw Draco's expression twist into something venemous.

And they continued with their talk of quidditch and such...

---

That afternoon, Harry invited Amelie to join him to Hagrid's small tea party consisting of the three of them.When she had asked where Hermione went, they said she was busy with her studies and her schedule. Amelie shrugged. It was true, 'Mione's timetable was very filled up. And to add on to that, Ron and her weren't exactly on speaking terms.

Harry showed her the letter from Hagrid, which was made up of three sentences; the first being the proposition to have tea with him, the second stated for the three of them to wait at the castle for him, and the third said in large, bolded letter, "WAIT FOR ME IN THE ENTRANCE HALL; YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OUT ON YOUR OWN" , and then conceded with a quick 'cheers, Hagrid.'

All in all, it was a very nice, well planned out letter. Hagrid clearly took the time to write it and make it look presentable. Note the sarcasm.

When Ron joined them on waiting for Hagrid at the entrance, he whispered excitedly to the two of them, "He probably wants to hear all about Black!"

After the Black incident, Ron was being treated as some sort of a school celebrity, you could say, and he was bombarded with questions and comments everywhere he went. Of course, he would exaggerate the story many times. Ron was clearly enjoying his newfound fame.

Hagrid arrived at the entrance shortly thereafter, and he led the three third-years out towards his hut. Ron grinned at him like a little boy."All right, Hagrid!" said Ron."S'pose you want to hear about Saturday night, do you?"

"I've already heard all abou' it," said Hagrid, his hand landing on the handle of his hut and holding open the door so the three students could file inside.

They could see Buckbeak, who was stretched out on top of Hagrid's iminent patchwork quilt, his wings folded in and he was treating himself to a considerable amount of deceased ferrets.

Amelie felt a rush of dislike for her best friend at that moment.

Harry must've read her mind, because he turned to Amelie. "Are you still close friends with Malfoy?" he said, emphasizing 'Malfoy' sullenly.

Amelie nodded, wanting to defend her friend. "Yes, Draco's actually very nice if you get to know him better."

Ron joined in their conversation, and, hearing Amelie's remark, rolled his eyes. "Sure he is. Every time he sees us, and when he's without you, he taunts us and gets on our last nerve. He's bloody horrid, that git."

Hagrid sat down next to the three of them, holding a gigantic, hairy brown suit paired with a horrible-looking yellow-and-orange tie in his big hands.

"What are those for?" Harry asked Hagrid curiously,forgetting his never-ending feud with the notorious Slytherin, Draco Malfoy.

"Buckbeak's case against the committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures." Hagrid replied to him sadly. "This Friday. Him an' me'll be goin' down ter London together. I've booked two beds on the Knight bus..."

Amelie was saddened by the thought. Especially when she remembered that special moment when she rode Buckbeak. She had really felt the connection between the two.

"All because of Draco," Harry and Ron growled at the same time.

Hagrid sighed gruffly. "I s'pose. But here, le'me give ye somethin' ter eat," he said, and poured some tea for them, and offered them a plate of Bath Buns. Harry and Ron declined them readily, but Amelie took one graciously and thanked Hagrid.

As Amelie bit into the 'bun,' she froze and Harry and Ron cringed. They should have warned her...

"Do ya like it?" queried Hagrid interestedly. Amelie nodded quickly as she kept pretending to chew as she tried to ignored the flavor and texture.

"Oh, yeah, it's really... unique. You made it yourself?" she said weakly as she set the bun down and pretended to cough, but instead spit the bit she took into her hand without Hagrid noticing.

Hagrid nodded. "Yeh, it's an original recipe."

Amelie smiled. "It's really nice. Anyways, I think it might be too rich, because I have a sensitive stomach... so maybe I'll eat them with you some other time," she said amiably. Ever the diplomat, Amelie was.

"Anyways, I got something ter discuss with the two of you," he said seriously, his gaze pinning down Harry and Ron.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Hermione." said Hagrid.

"What about her?"

"She's in a righ'state, that's what. She'sbin comin' down ter visit me a lot since Chris'mas. Bin feelin' lonely, other than Amelie, thanks fer that, by the way. Anyways. Firs' yeh weren' talking to her because o' the Firebolt, now yer not talkin' to her because her cat - "

" - ate Scabbers!" Ron interjected angrily. Amelie rolled her eyes. She found this argument a horrible excuse for Ron to fight and argue with Hermione, and he was constantly bringing up irrevelant information to support his nonexistent topic.

"Because her cat acted like all cats do," Hagrid continued doggedly. "She's cried a fair few times, yeh know. Goin'through a rough time at the moment. Bitten off more'n you can chew, if yeh ask me, all the work she's tryin' ter do. Still found time ter help me with Buckbeak's case, mind... She's found some really good stuff ferme... reckon he'll stand a chance now..."

Harry looked really guilty, and it was clear Ron did too, although he was struggling, trying not to betray the emotions. "Hagrid, we should've helped as well - sorry - " Harry began awkwardly.

Hagrid waved off his apologies and talked more to the two of them. They kept on getting more and more ashamed. Amelie just looked on as Hagrid reprimanded the two of them constantly.

Finally, he got to her. "Amelie."

"Yes, Hagrid?" she fidgeted awkwardly.

"You've been a wonderful friend to Hermione when the two dunderheads right here weren't there for her. She's really grateful for your friendship, even though she might not show it sometimes."

Amelie nodded, smiling. "And I too. Also, can I talk to you about something? ... Privately?"

He waved off Harry and Ron. "Well, you two can go now."

They looked surprised at being waved off so easily, but readily obeyed and filed out the door. Amelie sat in the chair that was formerly occupied by Harry, and looked at Hagrid.

"So... basically, I'm sick of being weak. Like, I've been provoked a few times, but all they did was make me feel weak, little, it dwarfed me. And I'm tired of it. So, since you know, you have some really good contacts and stuff with a lot of people, I was wondering if you know anybody who can teach me to do combat? Like, fight, with my fists? I get we go to Hogwarts for a reason, but, I can't always rely on my wand. If I lost my wand, I don't want to be powerless. So... will you help me, Hagrid?" she asked hopefully.

Hagrid looked emotionless for a few seconds, then cracked a wide grin. "I like ye, Amelie, ye've got spirit. And, ter answer yer question, I might... his name's Raymond Westin, he's a detective fer the Ministry of Magic, got a black tie for kara-tee or some'in, and he knows how to fight. yeh. I'll check in with him about this, and get back ter ya, that fine, Amelie?"

Amelie nodded. "Yeah, yeah! That's awesome! Thank you so much, Hagrid - " she said, then jumped on Hagrid and engulfed him into a hug. Hagrid looked happy to be hugged by her.

Hagrid smiled again. He was smiling a lot today. "It's no problem, Santerre."

Amelie said her goodbyes to Hagrid, and left his hut, thinking about things.

One thing was clear, however.

The kitten was now a tiger.