Professor Snape nearly broke the door by flinging it open as part of his dramatic entrance. Everyone turned around, confused. What was he doing there? They had Defense Against the Dark Arts, not Potions.

As he walked over to the front of the room, he flicked his wand at the windows, closing them and making the room unnecessarily dark. "Turn to page 394."

Some people opened their books at once, while others only stared at Snape in confusion, waiting for him to explain what had happened to Professor Lupin. Ben was part of the first group, not wanting to get in trouble for once. Harry, on the other hand, let curiosity win.

"Excuse me, sir," he said calmly. "Where's Professor Lupin?"

"That's not really of your concern, is it, Potter?"

"Sir, he just respectfully asked a question-" Ben spoke up, turning around from his table.

Snape immediately spun around to look at him. "Did I give you permission to speak, Walker?" 

Ben bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from answering something that would end up earning him detention. "No, sir, you didn't."

"Exactly, Walker. Therefore, you should keep quiet," said Snape, and turned to the rest of the class. "Open your books on page 394."

He walked back up to the front of the classroom before hitting the projector. Ron, sitting beside Ben, was turning the pages one by one wearily.

"Well done, Ron," he whispered. "At this pace, perhaps you will get to the page when we're twenty."

Ron rolled his eyes. All of a sudden, Snape threw a spell at the boy's book, making him jump back as the pages began flipping on their own. He got closer to the book to read it, before frowning. "Werewolves?"

"But, sir, we've just begun learning about Red Caps and Hinkypunks," said Hermione from beside Harry. "We're not meant to start nocturnal beasts for weeks."

"Quiet," snapped Snape.

"When did she come in?" Ron asked Ben in a hushed tone.

"I don't know," he replied. Something odd was happening regarding Hermione. She definitely wasn't there at the beginning of the class; she had told her friends she had to go to the toilet, and then she didn't come back. Ben knew the girl hadn't been sitting next to Harry before, because he had looked in that direction several times, and would've remembered.

"Now, which one of you can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a Werewolf?"

Hermione shot her hand up into the air, followed by Ben, who was sure he knew the answer. Snape blatantly ignored both of them, so Ben lowered his hand. Hermione, however, didn't.

"No one?" said Snape, looking around the students, and obviously seeing Hermione's hand. "How disappointing."

"An Animagus is a wizard who chooses to turn into an animal. A werewolf has no choice, which each full moon, when he transforms, he no longer remembers who he is. He'd kill his best friend if he crossed his path. Furthermore, the werewolf only responds to the call of its own king," explained Hermione.

Malfoy howled, making his cronies laugh. "Thank you, Malfoy," said Snape. "That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Are you incapable of restraining yourself or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?"

Hermione went very red, put down her hand, and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him, because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once, and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

Everyone gasped. Snape advanced towards Ron, but the boy didn't flinch. He stayed very still, breathing deeply and looking at Snape with no sign of fear or guilt in his eyes.

"Detention, Weasley," said Snape silkily, his face very close to Ron's. "And if I ever hear you criticise the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

———————————————

Ben had come to the conclusion that the school's choices of what's safe or not were a bit messed up. Apparently it was very dangerous to let Harry go to Hogsmeade, knowing the specific conditions he lived in, but it was alright to make the Gryffindor and the Hufflepuff teams play a Quidditch match against each other during a thunderstorm.

But, well, there they were, cheering for the Gryffindor team.

"Where is he?" asked Hermione, trying to find Harry as she covered her eyes with her hand to keep the rain out of them.

"I don't know," replied Ron.

"What if something happened?" gasped Ben, spinning around to face his friends.

They had seen him for the last time around five minutes ago, when he had disappeared into the cloudy and dark sky, trying to catch the Snitch, and then they had lost track of him.

"Look!" shouted Neville. They all fixed their eyes on something that was falling from the sky at a scarily quick speed- No, it wasn't a something, it was Harry.

The spectators erupted into shouts and screams. Ben felt his heart stop, until somebody grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the crowd. It was Hermione, running after Ron as they tried to get down to the Quidditch pitch.

They heard Dumbledore shout, "Aresto momentum!"

It was as though time had slowed down, but only for Harry. He was still falling down, but much slowlier, almost like he was underwater. When Ron, Hermione and Ben reached the pitch, the boy was lying on the floor, surrounded by his teammates and a couple of nurses.

They all followed them to the Hospital Wing.

"He hasn't moved in a long time," noted Ron, half an hour later.

"Because he's passed out, Ron," replied Ben. They were all there; Harry's friends, the Gryffindor Quidditch team (except Wood, who was probably having a mental breakdown), and Cedric, who had joined them worriedly.

"What if he's dead?" Ron asked worriedly, tapping his fingers on one of the nearby chairs they were sitting in.

"He's not," answered Ben at once, his leg bouncing against the floor, his wet red shoes producing an annoying squelchy sound, but he couldn't stop doing it. He could see Harry's chest slowly going up and down as his friend breathed in and out.

Ron stood up to check it himself, and then repeated, "He's not."

"I told you," Ben was starting to say, but then Harry's eyes snapped open. Ron gasped, and the brown-haired boy jumped out of his chair. "Harry!"

"Hey," he answered, voice weak.

Everyone ran to his bed, bombing him with worried questions. "What happened?" he asked, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped

"You fell off," said Fred. "Must've been... what- fifty feet?" 

"We thought you'd died," said Alicia Spinnet, her Quidditch robes covered in mud.

"Dumbledore used a spell to stop you from crashing into the floor," added Ben, noticing a small bleeding wound over Harry's lips. "But we didn't know if you'd be okay."

Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot from crying. Ron was watching her with a strange look, but didn't speak.

"But the match," continued Harry. "What happened? Are we doing a replay?" 

Nobody said a thing. Realisation sparkled in Harry's eyes.  "We didn't- lose?" 

He turned to Cedric. "I got the Snitch..." he admitted. "But I didn't know what happened, I promise! I tried to convince Madam Hooch to let us do a rematch, because it wasn't fair-"

"You won fair and square," George interrupted him. Cedric looked away. "Even Wood admits it."

"Where's Wood?" wondered Harry.

"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself." 

———————————————

When Madam Pomfrey finally let him leave the Hospital Wing and they all went back to the Gryffindor Tower, Harry walked up the stairs to the boys dormitory, threw himself at his bed and buried his face into a pillow.

Ben and Ron both wished Hermione hadn't left to sleep, because none of them knew exactly how to deal with a crying Harry. They exchanged glances, and sat down on the bed next to him.

"Hey," spoke Ben, after a considerably long silence. "Are you alright?"

Harry nodded.

Liar.

"Could you please stop covering your face with that?" asked Ron. "You're going to end up suffocating."

"Good," he mumbled. Ron glanced at Ben, waiting for him to do something.

"Harry," he said sharply, his voice dangerously serious.

Harry spun around and frowned angrily at Ben. His usually bright green eyes were even brighter, much more than usual, which meant he had been about to cry.

Ben forced himself to look away from Harry's eyes, and took a deep breath. "Is this because you didn't win?"

Harry nodded hesitantly. "I failed."

"You didn't fail," said Ron. "You just lost a match, and that's alright. It's impossible to win every single time."

"It's the first time I haven't caught the Snitch," he murmured, and took one of the drawstrings of Ben's hoodie to play with it.

"Because you got attacked by a dementor," stated Ben. "You're the best seeker I've ever seen, Harry, you'll win the next match."

"My broom is broken."

Ben had completely forgotten about that part. Harry's broom flew to the Whomping Willow, and was destroyed into way too many small pieces for it to be fixed.

"I'll get you a new one."

"No you won't," said Harry very seriously, shaking his head.

"Yes I will, just give me time, I'll manage to buy you another."

Ron had turned white, and Harry didn't answer, not wanting to fight Ben. Instead, he took the other drawstring, making him chuckle. "Hey, if you want this hoodie just tell me, I'll lend it to you."

He laughed, wiping a tear away from his eyes. "Someday I'm going to steal it from you."

"Then I'll steal your black one," threatened Ben.

"What's up with you two and hoodies?" asked Ron, confused. "Jackets are much better."

They both glared at Ron at the same time. "How can you say something like that?" inquired Harry.

"I'm heavily considering attacking you with this pillow," Ben let him know.

But Ron was faster. He grabbed another one and kicked Ben with it. The boy screamed in surprise, which made Harry laugh at him. So the redhead pushed him too, making him fall on top of Ben's arm. "Ouch!"

Seeking revenge, Ben hit Ron with a nearby pillow, which he soon returned.

"Stop it!" shouted someone from the door. It was Dean Thomas, along with Neville and Seamus, all of them hiding grins to continue with Dean's dramatic act. "Violence is never the answer!"

Ron threw a pillow at him.

And, a couple of seconds later, they were all kicking each other, trying to escape flying cushions, and jumping from bed to bed like a group of monkeys, their cackles and amused shouts sounding all over the room.

———————————————

Weeks went by, and it was suddenly already December. The second trip to Hogsmeade was taking place two weeks before Christmas break and, at breakfast that morning, Ben received an unexpected letter.

At first, he thought it'd be from Alycia, but he knew that wasn't his sister's handwriting. It was very elegant and neat, it belonged to someone older; someone like his grandmother Jacqueline.

Good morning dear,

I apologise for not reaching out a lot these years, Benjamin, my schedule has been full of travels and meetings during these two last summers, and it was impossible for me to go visit you all.

I'm writing this to let you know that, this year, the Christmas eve dinner will be taking place somewhere else. Your father has a new co-worker called Richard Stonem. He comes from a family of pure-blooded wizards, and I believe their only  son is currently studying at Hogwarts, too, perhaps you know him.

Richard Stonem's family has invited us and the Malfoys over to their Manor for Christmas. Your parents were hesitant about bringing you or not, after what happened last night, but I convinced them to do so.

I can't wait to see you and give you an enormous hug, Benjamin.

Lots of love,

Jacqueline Walker.

Ben silently stared at the letter for a while after he was done reading it. He was glad his grandmother had talked to him, but he didn't really believe she hadn't had a chance to spend five minutes writing him a letter in the past two years.

"Everything okay?" asked Ron.

"Yep."

"What happened?"

"Grandma sent me a letter," he replied, and took a strawberry. "The Malfoys and us have been invited to a Christmas dinner."

"That sucks, doesn't it?" said the redhead.

"Not really," shrugged Ben. "Thomas will be there."

"Will he?" asked Harry, shooting a quick glance towards the Slytherin table before looking back at Ben, who nodded.

Later that day, when the students were gathering before leaving for Hogsmeade, Ron suggested Harry could try to ask McGonagall for permission again.

"If I keep insisting, I'll end up in detention," he said.

"We'll be back as soon as possible, then" assured Hermione.

"Enjoy," he said. "I'll be waiting in the common room."

But Ben caught a glimpse of a spark in his eyes, and he had a feeling it was just a lie. He didn't say anything, however, and they watched as Harry left.

———————————————

Ron had brought Hermione and Ben to the back of Hogsmeade village, to take a look at the Shrieking Shack. The blonde didn't see what was the interest of observing an old and rusty abandoned shack.

"Villagers say it's haunted, Ben," insisted Ron. "They've heard screams, howling, and shrieking coming from there at night."

"That's why it's called the Shrieking Shack, I suppose," guessed Ben.

"Exactly."

"Wow, wow, look who's here! Shopping for a new dream home?" sneered someone from behind them. It was Malfoy, of course, almost tripping on the snow with his cronies. "Big grand for you, isn't it, Weasel-bee? Doesn't your family sleep in a room?"

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy."

"Oh, not very friendly... Now that I think about it, how are you planning on buying this home? It's way too expensive for you, Weasel-bee," he scowled. "I assume this is where you, Walker, come into picture, right? I've noticed you seem to enjoy being around losers."

"Yes, that's why I used to be friends with you."

Malfoy suddenly turned strangely pale, and stared at Ben, eyes very wide open, without saying a word for a while.

"Boys," the Slytherin finally told his cronies, now grinning and straightening his coat. "I think it's time we teach them how to respect his superiors."

Hermione let out a sarcastic chuckle before stepping in front of Ben and Ron, "Hope you don't mean yourself!"

"How dare you talk to me?" hissed Malfoy. "You filthy little mudblood-"

A snowball hit him square in the face. Malfoy's friends screamed as they all looked around to see who had thrown it. But there wasn't anybody nearby.

"Who is that?" shouted Malfoy. Another snowball was thrown, followed by another. Panicking, he turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "Don't just stand there, do something!"

"What?!"

The invisible person continued messing with them for a while, as Ron, Hermione and Ben laughed at them, until Malfoy ran away, unnecessarily pushing Crabbe out of his way, followed by his friends.

Someone ruffled Ben's hair and played with the strings of Ron's hat, making them both turn white in fear. But, a second later, Harry pulled his cloak off, chuckling happily.

"Harry!" laughed Hermione.

"It was you!" exclaimed Ben.

Harry smirked at him.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" said Ron, still a bit pale but smiling. "That was not funny!"

———————————————

As they made their way to The Three Broomsticks, Harry was interrogated by his friends. He told them about some map Fred and George Weasley had given him, which showed the entire Hogwarts castle, along with the location of every single student or professor.

"How come Fred and George never gave it to me!" shouted Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!" 

"But Harry isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea was ludicrous. "He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?"

"No I'm not." He stated.

"Are you mad?" Ron goggled at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?" 

"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!" 

"Besides, why would he have to hand it in? It's not dangerous at all."

"What if Sirius Black finds it?" she suggested. "He could see where Harry is, and kill him."

"He won't find it, because I won't lose it."

And, with that, they entered the bar. It was filled with Hogwarts students, so they could barely hear each other over the noises. They miraculously found an empty table, and they all sat.

"Do you all want a Butterbeer?" asked Ben, ready to go get them.

Harry and Hermione nodded, but Ron jumped out of his chair as though a firecracker had exploded in his seat. "I'll go get them!"

"Uh... I was already standing-"

"But now we're both standing!" he exclaimed, and let out a very loud laugh. Ben shared glances with Harry, who looked as confused as ever. "Don't worry, Ben, I'll go!"

Raising his eyebrows, he sat beside Harry, looking as Ron walked over to Madam Rosmerta at the counter, his chest pushed forwards and his nose up in the air.

"Why is Ron walking like a peacock?" Ben whispered to Harry.

He shrugged, but Hermione did know the answer. "He fancies her."

"Who?"

"Madam Rosmerta," she answered.

"Why?"

"Well, she's pretty," replied Harry.

Ben shifted in his seat. "I guess."

Ron came back five minutes later, smiling broadly, as he carried their butterbeers. He placed them on the table, and suddenly his eyes widened.

"What is it?" asked Hermione.

"The Minister!" he whispered. "And some other professors... Harry, hide!"

Harry quickly hid under the table, almost tripping and banging his head against it. Ben couldn't help a cackle, which earned him glares from Ron and Hermione, along with a kick on the leg from Harry.

He held back a groan as he faked a smile and waved at the professors walking past them. Hagrid waved back at them, and they sat down at a nearby table. Madam Rosmerta quickly brought them their drinks.

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us..."

"Well, thank you very much, Minister," she smiled brightly and sat. "So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?"

Fudge began looking around, checking for eavesdroppers, so Hermione, Ron and Ben all took a sip of their Butterbeers at the same time, a rather unrealistic gesture, but which made Fudge go back to the conversation.

"What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I dare say you heard what happened up at the school on Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumour," admitted Madam Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," answered Fudge shortly.

"You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice?" asked Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away... It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, dear, I don't like them any more than you do. Necessary precaution... unfortunate, but there you are... I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore- he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," snapped Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse... We all know what Black's capable of..."

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," grumbled Fudge. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst? Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do."

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?" 

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," Madam Rosmerta let out a small, sad chuckle. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here... Oh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Harry suddenly dropped something from under the table. Ron kicked him, earning a warning look from Ben.

"Precisely," added Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course- exceptionally bright, in fact... But I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers-"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money." 

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

The professors continued speaking, but Ben didn't hear any other words. He was too worried about Harry to think about anything else. He dropped his jacket so he'd have an excuse to look under the table. When he did, Harry's face was pale as paper.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.

Harry didn't answer at once. When he spoke, his voice was lower than usual, and it felt like it was about to break. "Please give me my cloak."

"What?"

"Ben, my cloak."

Ben obeyed at once, ignoring Ron and Hermione's stares. Harry gave him a quick look before hiding under the cloak, and disappearing.

"What happened?" asked the girl.

"Er- He asked me for his cloa-" he began, and saw the door opening from the back of his eye. "Oh, he's left!"

"What?"

Ben grabbed his jacket and jolted up from his seat, before running out of the bar, followed by very confused Ron and Hermione. He barely had time to put on one side of his jacket before heading out into the cold, snowy street.

"Do you see any footsteps?"

"The snow is full of footsteps, Ben."

"There!" shouted Ron, pointing at the snow in front of a group of choir singers. There were footsteps appearing on it.

The three Gryffindors ran after him, accidentally pushing the singers out of their way. "Sorry!"

They continued going after Harry, who seemed to be going back to the area of the Shrieking Shack. The footprints stopped next to a big rock, so they all assumed he had stopped to sit on it.

Neither of them continued, and they stood silently for a while.

"What should we do?" asked Ron in a whisper.

"Perhaps we should talk to him," suggested Hermione.

"Who?"

"I will," stated Ben, and walked over to the rock.

He considered sitting next to him, but he had absolutely no idea of where Harry was, and there was a chance it'd end up being awkward, so he only stood there.

"Hey," he said. Harry didn't answer. Ben extended an arm, and felt the texture of the cloak against his hand. He slowly pulled it, revealing a crying Harry.

Oh no.

"Harry..." he muttered, feeling a painful pressure on his chest.

"He was their friend, and he betrayed them," he whispered, holding back tears, before suddenly shouting, "He was their friend!"

Ben didn't know what to say to comfort him, and only listened.

"I hope he finds me. Because, when he does, I'm going to be ready. When he does, I'm going to kill him!"

A/N: YESSS I FINALLY FINISHED THE REWRITING LET'S GOOOO!