(Y/N) knew well before participating in trials that she'd be giving up most of her weekends to practice, but she underestimated how tiring it all was. Wood liked to start right after dinner and would keep the team out until nearly curfew whether it was cold, rainy, or clear. By the time (Y/N) and Harry would return to the castle, she'd be hungry, tired, and still have an essay to write.

It wasn't all bad, of course. (Y/N) enjoyed Quidditch, and her teammates did everything they could to make sure she felt welcomed. It was also very nice to get to spend so much time with Harry. Whether it was an early dinner, the cold walks to the pitch, or late night study sessions after practice, they were nearly always together. Harry seemed to be grateful for it, too; he seemed a lot more cheerful about everything Wood was putting them through than he had in past seasons.

The first Saturday they had off from practice was the first Saturday they would venture into Hogsmeade Village. It was also the first Saturday in a good few weeks that (Y/N) and Harry wouldn't be together. The Dursleys never signed his permission slip and McGonagall was not budging on not letting any students leave the castle without a form. When Dean offered to forge a signature for him, Ron said it would be no use – after all, McGonagall already knew his slip hadn't been signed.

(Y/N) spent most of breakfast trying her best to come up with a plan, but Hermione reminded her it probably wasn't the best idea, not with Black having been sighted so close by. Then, when she offered to stay behind with Harry, he politely declined; he didn't think it was fair to make her stay. She didn't care much – "There will be other Hogsmeade trips!" – but Harry was persistent, though the slightest bit unconvincing.

He walked with them to the castle entrance to say goodbye and (Y/N) and Ron promised to bring him back some sweets. As they parted ways, (Y/N) couldn't tell which one of them was more disappointed.

***

Hogsmeade was a beautiful little village with charming shops packing either side of the cobblestone streets. Hogwarts students and villagers alike moseyed about and gave cheerful passing greetings to shop owners. It was a bit chilly, and a little bit loud, but (Y/N) didn't care – it was cozy and felt safe enough that she wouldn't feel guilting for sneaking Harry along next time they went.

Seamus insisted they go to Honeydukes first because he wanted to get a pack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

"Honeydukes was first established in 1641," Hermione was telling (Y/N). "Isn't that fascinating? And now it's owned by Ambrosius Flume and his wife and they live above the shop in that little apartment." She pointed up.

"How do you know all that?"

"I read about it, of course," Hermione said. Off of (Y/N)'s grin, she laughed. "I only wanted to know a bit about the village's history."

But all the study of history hadn't prepared them for the wealth of sweets that waited inside. There were shelves upon shelves of seemingly every treat imaginable – the Drooble's Seamus was hoping for, an entire barrel full of Every Flavor Beans, and beside that, one full of Fizzing Whizzbees. There were levitating sherbert balls and shimmering squares of pink coconut ice, honey-colored toffees, and creamy chunks of nougat. On one wall was an impressive display of any chocolate you could want: chocolate frogs, chocolate wands, exploding bonbons — even a section of homemade fudge.

Within the hour, (Y/N) bought all that she could carry and Ron bought all she could not. They got one of everything and a few extra of what they liked — (Y/N) was sure to buy quite a few chocolate frogs for Harry. When Mr. Flume was ringing them up, he packed all their sweets into a bag he'd enchanted with the feather-light charm, and they left the shop with wide grins.

They went to the Shrieking Shack next, for Hermione had read the most about that and she was eager to see it. (Y/N) hadn't wanted to get quite so close to it, though they were still a good bit away and separated by an old, rickety gate. The windows were poorly boarded up with rotting wood, and it looked as though a good gust of wind could blow the shack right over.

Hermione wasn't helping with her nerves. "It's supposedly the most haunted building in London," she gushed. "I was talking to Nearly Headless Nick and he said that even the Hogwarts ghosts won't go in."

"Fred and George told me a bunch of old witches and wizards used to practice Dark magic in there," Ron gulped.

"They told me it's where they used to hold detentions when the school first opened up," said (Y/N). She remembered what Filch said during her first year about missing the medieval methods of punishment – the screams; perhaps that what he meant. She shuddered.

"Honestly," Hermione shook her head, smiling. "It's probably just a myth to keep people out. It's incredibly old and it hasn't been taken care of, so it's dangerous to go inside."

Ron looked a bit pale. "That's just what the ghosts want you to think,"

They left shortly after that for the Three Broomsticks Inn. Neither Hermione nor Dean had tried Butterbeer yet, and they promised them at the beginning of the trip that would change. They all got their drinks – (Y/N) had to buy Ron's because he accidentally spent all his money at Honeydukes (he tried to protest, but she wasn't hearing it) – and sat around the table closest to the fireplace.

It was just as cozy inside the little pub as it was outside of it. The air was a bit smoky from the patrons, and it was quite busy with Hogwarts professors, students, and villagers. Still, sat by the fire with her best friends, (Y/N) could hardly imagine any place better. She glanced at the empty seat at the other end of the table and suddenly imagined one.

"Oi," said Ron. "What's the matter with you?"

(Y/N) hadn't realized he was talking to her until Hermione gently nudged her shoulder. "What?" All of her friends were staring at her. "Oh, nothing,"

"I know what's wrong with her," Seamus began.

But (Y/N) sent him a quelling glare that only made him and Dean laugh. Even Hermione smiled into her cup as she took another sip. Ron looked at all of them like they were nuts.

Too soon, it was time to go back to the castle. They finished their drinks, gathered their things, and began the chilly walk home.

(Y/N) was glad to see Harry walking back to the Gryffindor Common Room. He smiled at them by way of greeting, though it didn't quite meet his eyes.

"How was Hogsmeade?"

Ron beamed, beginning to say "Bloody brilliant–"

"It was fun,"(Y/N) said dismissively. Harry gave a grateful smile. "We did stop at Honeydukes, though, and we brought back all we could carry." She passed him a chocolate frog as she asked, "What did you do?"

"I ran into Professor Lupin," he said. "We talked for most of the time."

"What about?"

"My parents." Harry had the faintest smile on his lips. It was different from the contentment when he laughed with her and their friends, but it was just as sincere and much more serene. (Y/N) hadn't ever seen him smile that way before, but something about it made her heart flutter. "They went to school together. You should have heard what he said about my dad – and my mum." Harry turned to her. "They sound incredible,"

(Y/N) smiled. She was very sure they had to be, if Harry was their son.

"What's happening?" said Hermione, and Harry and (Y/N) both looked back at her.

Then, following her gaze, they turned forward to see the large group of students gathered in front of the portrait door.

"Probably Neville's forgotten the password again," Ron grumbled.

But Neville was behind him. "Hey!"

"Oh," said Ron, cracking a grin. "You're there,"

At the top of the moving staircase, Percy Weasley was pushing through the students importantly. "Let me through please. Excuse me – I'm Head Boy!" And no sooner than he reached his destination did a sudden silence fall over the crowd. It began at the front and worked its way down until he sharply said, "Get back, all of you. No one is to enter this dormitory until it has been fully searched!"

"What's going on?" (Y/N) said.

It was Ginny who came pushing from the front to answer, eyes wide with fright. "The Fat Lady, she's gone!"

Gone, indeed, for her portrait had been so viciously slashed that part of her canvas lay tattered on the floor. The Fat Lady was nowhere in sight, and all the paintings beside her's were bustling around in search.

"Serves her right; she was a terrible singer."

"That's not funny, Ron!" said Hermione.

A moment later, Dumbledore had arrived, accompanied by Filch who was shouting at students to "Make way! Make way!" (Y/N) only just backed out of his way before he came ploughing through. Percy stood taller and dutifully said, "Quiet down! The Headmaster's here!"

"Move!" said Filch.

"You heard," Percy nodded. "Move!"

(Y/N) couldn't find it in her to be annoyed with them as Dumbledore stepped closer to the vacant portrait. He took one look at the painting, and trailed his fingers along the ruined canvas. "Mr. Filch? Round up the ghosts. Tell them to search every painting in the castle to find the Fat Lady."

"There's no need for ghosts, Professor." Filch raised a long bony finger to point up another staircase. "The Fat Lady's there."

At once, students raced towards where she hid, ignoring Percy's protests – "Hey! Mind where you're going! Slow down! You listen, I'm Head Boy!" – and pushing each other out of the way. (Y/N) managed to get close enough to see, and sure enough, the Fat Lady was sobbing, crouched down behind a large pig.

"Dear Lady," said Dumbledore. "Who did this to you?"

"Eyes like the devil, he's got!" she wailed. "And a soul as dark as his name! It's him Headmaster! The one they all talk about! He's here, somewhere in the castle! Sirius Black!" she yelped, sobbed, and then ducked back down behind her pig.

(Y/N) couldn't blame her; she felt as though her blood had gone cold.

"Mr. Filch, secure the castle," said Dumbledore, with enough edge to his voice to make (Y/N) panic. "The rest of you, to the Great Hall!"

No one needed to be told twice.

Not ten minutes later, the Gryffindors were joined by the entirety of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Dumbledore ordered Prefects to stand guard at the door left the Head Boy and Girl in charge – Percy practically inflated with pride. After conjuring up a few hundred fluffy sleeping bags, he and the rest of the Professors left the Great Hall to search for Black.

(Y/N) and her friends snagged four sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.

Everyone seemed to be asking the same question. "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away.

"Disgused himself, probably," a Hufflepuff guessed.

Dean said, "He could've flown in."

"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bother to read Hogwarts, A History?" Hermione huffed to (Y/N), Harry, and Ron.

"Probably," said Ron. "Why?"

"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," said Hermione. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered..."

"The lights are going out now!" shouted Percy from the front of the hall. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

And at once, all the candles went out, leaving only the enchanted starry ceiling for light.

Unsurprisingly, (Y/N) couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, trying to ignore the whispers of the castle ghosts and the Professors who kept coming in every hour. Her mind was racing and each thought made her more anxious than the last.

She needed a distraction.

"Harry?" (Y/N) whispered. "Are you still awake?"

He turned in his sleeping bag to face her. Even in the dim glow of the starlight, she could make out the emerald of his eyes. "Yeah,"

"Can we talk about something?"

"What?"

"Anything,"

He seemed to understand at once. "Um..." He took a moment to think. "Tell me about Hogsmeade." When she hesitated, he said, "It's okay, I don't think it'll be as annoying when you talk about it."

She smiled. "Alright..."

"So?"

"It was nice."

"Just nice?"

"It's incredible," she admitted. "They have two separate cauldron shops, Harry. And a Spintwitches Sporting Needs – you would've loved it. And their post office is small but it holds over two hundred owls. And did you know they've color coded them, so you can choose how fast something gets delivered."

"How d'you know that?"

"Hermione told me,"

"Right,"

"You've got to come with us next time, Harry. You can try Butterbeer — Three Broomsticks has the best there is. Maybe we can pull out your Dad's cloak again!"

Harry looked thrilled with the very idea. He opened his mouth to say something, but Filch, Snape, and Flitwick came into the room and they knew better than to speak.

"I've searched the Astronomy Tower and the Owlery," said Filch. "There's nothing there."

"Thank you," Dumbledore sounded remarkably calm.

"The third floor's clear, too, sir," Flitwick said.

"Very good."

"I've done the dungeons, Headmaster – no sign of Black, nor anywhere else in the castle."

"I didn't really expect him to linger."

"Remarkable feat, don't you think?" Snape questioned, sounding annoyed.. "To enter the Hogwarts castle on one's own... Completely undetected."

"Quite remarkable, yes."

"Any theories on how he managed it?" he pressed.

"Many. Each as unlikely as the next."

"You may recall, prior to the start of term, I expressed concerns about your appointment of—"

"Not a single professor inside this castle would help Sirius Black enter it." Dumbledore said. "I'm quite convinced the castle is safe. I'm more than willing to send the students back to their houses."

"What about Potter?" Snape inquired, stepping closer to the corner were they lay. (Y/N) and Harry closed their eyes so he wouldn't know they were awake. "Should he be warned?"

"Perhaps," said Dumbledore. "But for now, let him sleep. For in dreams, we enter a world that's entirely our own."