The Adventures of Harry Black, Year Three

The third year of the Adventures of Harry Black series is at hand!

There is also an important question at the bottom of the page, and I ask that you read and answer it.

I don't own Harry Potter. I own Emma Granger, Lizzie & Michael Black, Whizzie the house elf and Blaise's femininity. The rest belongs to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter 1 - Meetings

Somewhere in England, a man by the name of Barty Crouch Jr. was wandering through the city streets. Dressed in a white shirt, red blazer and jeans, along with enough facial additions to make him unrecognizable, he walked down the streets without fear of being discovered.

“`Scuse me,” Crouch muttered absently as he bumped into a man passing by. As he moved on, Crouch smirked to himself as he slid the other man's wallet into his pocket. Thinking about how Muggles were easier to rob than wizards, Crouch walked into a grocery store, purchasing several sandwiches, bags of crisps and bottles of water with his newly stolen cash. His supplies purchased, Crouch walked back to the filthy flat that he and his fellow fugitives lived in. Crouch wrinkled his nose in disgust at the Muggle flat. In an effort to conserve his limited budget, he rented the cheapest flat he could find, and it showed. Despite his prejudices towards the filthy Muggles, they were good for hiding from the law, while still giving such basic luxuries as shelter, a decent meal and a somewhat comfortable bed.

With a sour face, Crouch climbed the stairs to his flat number, and opened the door to let himself in.

“I'm back,” he said unenthusiastically, setting his meager groceries on the kitchen counter. Immediately a small, round man that seemed to be part rat and a thin woman with wild hair and an insane glint in her eyes came rushing into the kitchen, grabbing their sandwiches and water bottles.

“I don't see why you always have to go,” the small man whined as he opened a bag of crisps.

“Because, Wormtail, I am one only one of us who looks normal enough to walk through Muggle England without being noticed,” Crouch snapped as he peeled off the fake facial hair from his face, his tongue flicking out instinctively. Looking at his two companions, he added dryly, “Although with the company I keep, that wouldn't be too difficult.”

“I'm bored,” Bellatrix Lestrange complained as she up crumpled the plastic that her sandwich was wrapped in. “Why can't we just torture a couple of Muggles? It's not like they'd be missed here.” Crouch growled in frustration, chewing his sandwich with more force than necessary.

“Because both the Muggle and magical aurors are out looking for us. Even if a couple of Muggle scum were to disappear, it would alert the aurors where we are, and we might as well send a beacon telling them to come collect us. I don't know about you two cretins, but I don't fancy acquainting myself with the dementors for a third time,” he explained through clenched teeth. Of all the prisoners in Azkaban, why did I have to be stuck with these two idiots, Crouch thought grumpily as he took a gulp of water.

“Can one of us at least get the bed tonight?” Pettigrew asked hopefully. Crouch growled angrily, crushing his water bottle in his hand.

“No, Wormtail, you may not,” Crouch said in a forced calm. “I'm the one paying the rent for this dump; therefor, I get the bed.” Crouch gathered his garbage and threw it into the dustbin angrily.

“So, what are we going to do about Potter and his bratty little friends?” Bellatrix asked, crunching on her crisps.

“I'll think of something,” Crouch said through clenched teeth. “Eventually.”

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Sirius tapped his fingers on the table nervously. It had been three days since Blaise had owled them the newspaper announcing the Azkaban breakout, and everyone was on a high state of alert. The door swung open to show Hermione and Emma guiding two people that seemed to be their parents through the normally Muggle-protected property of the Leaky Cauldron. The elder Grangers seemed to be dazed for a moment, before looking around in confusion.

Harry and Michael waved them over, and Hermione ran over, engulfing Harry in a bone-crushing hug. After holding Harry for several seconds, she let go and hugged Michael, although it was noticeably less intense. Sirius and Lizzie stood up as Hermione's parents walked up to them.

“Hi there, we're Harry and Michael's parents,” Sirius said as he shook their hands. “I'm Sirius and this is my wife Elizabeth,” he continued, gesturing to Lizzie.

“Call me Lizzie,” she said as she shook their hands.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Hermione's mother said. “I'm Jane, and this is my husband—” she began, but was interrupted by her husband.

“Ron,” he said quickly as he shook Lizzie's hand.

“Oberon,” Jane corrected, grinning smugly as her husband cringed at his name. “Hermione has said nothing but good things about your children,” she continued, turning back to Lizzie.

“That's good,” Lizzie said. “I would hope so, seeing as how they've been friends for almost three years now.” The Floo flared up, and Blaise stumbled out, followed by a man wearing expensive, dark green robes. While Blaise ran up to greet her friends, Sirius and Blaise's father stared at each other.

“Zachary,” Sirius said stiffly, his face tightened.

“Sirius,” Zachary Zabini said, his features unreadable. Without another word between the two men, everybody sat down at the table.

“So this...Animagus thing, what exactly does it involve?” Jane Granger asked.

“First off, the children have to drink a potion to find out what exactly they turn into, and then they spend a year or so meditating to try and actually turn into that animal,” Sirius explained. “The only side effects of the potion is a headache and a bad aftertaste...a very bad aftertaste, actually,” he added absently.

“I trust that there will be a certified Healer nearby to reverse any...accidents,” Zachary said.

“Yes, I will be supervising,” Lizzie said flatly. For several seconds, Zachary said nothing, then bowed his head.

“Then I approve of this training,” he said. Sirius and Lizzie turned to the elder Grangers, who were whispering to each other. After several more seconds, they turned back to the assembly.

“I guess we'll allow it,” Oberon said. After standing up and shaking hands again, Sirius and Lizzie walked back to Grimmauld, five children following them.

“Your Dad doesn't seem to like his name very much,” Blaise pointed out as they walked up the streets of London.

“Yeah, every time someone brings it up, he complains about how his brother got the good name,” Emma said, grinning.

“Why, what's his brother's name?” Michael asked curiously.

“Macbeth,” Emma and Hermione said simultaneously. Frowning, Michael turned to Harry.

“Did we ever do that, the both talking at once thing?” Michael asked softly.

“I don't think so,” Harry said, shrugging before turning to Sirius. “So if becoming an Animagus is so easy, why did it take you and my father five years to do it?” he asked, intentionally neglecting to mention Wormtail.

“Because unlike you, we didn't have anyone around to help us,” Sirius said, not turning to look at them. “Took us two years just to find the damn potion,” he added, causing Lizzie to slap him on the shoulder.

“Sirius, language!” she snapped sharply. Sirius wisely elected to remain silent for the rest of the walk. After Lizzie told Blaise and the Granger sisters the location of 12 Grimmauld Place, they walked inside the silent house. “Must be sleeping,” Lizzie muttered to herself as they walked into the sitting room, where a large pot was simmering over a fire. Lizzie lifted the lid and stirred the bubbling potion contained within with a ladle, lifting some out and pouring it back into the pot. “Okay, it's done,” she said. “Sirius, could you get us some glasses?” Sirius knew better than to question his wife, so he ran into the kitchen and returned with tray and five coffee mugs. After Lizzie filled them with the potion, Sirius pulled out several toothpicks from his pocket and transfigured them into pink paper umbrellas, which caused Lizzie to raise her eyebrow.

“What? It's not like anything else in this potion is good,” Sirius said as he dropped the umbrellas into the potion and served them to the children, who took them reluctantly. “Want my advice? Don't stare at it, don't sniff it and don't sip it. Just close your eyes and chug.” Looking at the viscous liquid in his mug nervously, Harry closed his eyes and nose before gulping down foul-tasting potion in several swallows before dropping the mug back onto the tray that Sirius was holding, followed by the others'. For a moment, all Harry experienced was a taste in mouth that tasted like boiled cabbage mixed with something bitter tasting, but his head suddenly felt faint, and his world went dark.

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Man, that's one potion I definitely wouldn't drink. Their Animagus forms will be revealed next chapter.

I think that this is the first time that Hermione's Shakespearean name comes from her father's side. Usually, it's from the mother, or just pops up out of nowhere.

Now, for that important question: In one of my older fics, Light's Hope, Death's Hunters, one of the main complaints I received when I finished was that too much was left unrevealed, particularly what Harry and Hermione did while they were gone. Lately, I've been thinking about deleting it and reposting it, with new content to fill in these gaps. My question is should I do this, or just leave it as it is? I would really appreciate it if you answered this question. Thanks.

Don't forget to read and review!

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Otters can be incredibly smart and adorable. Under the right circumstances, they can also be incredibly disgusting.

I don't own Harry Potter. I do own Michael, Morgan and Lizzie Black, as well as Emma and Whizzie. For the purposes of this fic, I have donated Blaise my missing chunk of chromosome indefinitely.

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Chapter 2 - The Beast Within, pt. 1

Harry groaned as he slowly faded back in consciousness. Clutching his head in discomfort, Harry sat up to find himself not on the floor of 12 Grimmauld Place alongside his brother and friends, but alone in a dark, barren wasteland, stretching far into the horizon. The crimson sky filled with gray, ashen clouds and dry, cracked earth gave the place an atmosphere of death.

“Cheerful place,” Harry muttered sarcastically. A sharp cawing rang from behind him, and Harry turned to see a raven perched on a branch of a bare, twisted tree. The black bird spread its wings as it cawed again. Harry did not know why, but something in the back of his mind was telling him that this raven would help him find his animagus form, as well as get him out of this place. Harry tentatively raised his hand and clicked his tongue to get the raven to come down from its perch and onto his arm. Instead of jumping off and gently gliding down onto his arm, the raven simply sat on its branch, preening its feathers and ignoring Harry.

After several minutes of standing there, trying to gain the bird's attention, Harry lowered his tired arm and sighed in frustration. “Fine, I don't need you; I'll figure out how to get out of here on my own,” he grumbled, walking away towards the endless horizon. As Harry walked away, the raven stopped its preening and watched as the teenager slowly shrank into the distance.

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Michael stirred from unconsciousness, groaning at the pain in his head and almost gagging at the stench of burnt wood infiltrating his senses. Covering his mouth and nose with his shirt, Michael stood up and observed his surroundings. Instead of the sitting room of 12 Grimmauld Place, Michael was standing in what seemed to be a freshly razed village. Broken wood and clay littered the streets, and not a single house was untouched by what seemed to be a terrible fire.

Michael heard a soft whining coming from one of the houses. Carefully pushing open the door of one house, he stepped through the burnt rubble, trying to find the source of the sound. After finding nothing in the first house, he moved on to a second house. There, he saw a black paw poking out from under a pile of rubble. As Michael moved aside the rubble, a large, black dog began crawling out from under the wreckage. The dog was thin, like it had not eaten for several days, and its fur was thick and matted, giving it a rather pitiful appearance.

“Come on, let's see if we can't find something for you to eat,” Michael said, rubbing the dog on its head. The dog barked in response, and followed the teenager as he began inspecting the destroyed houses, searching for anything else that had survived the blaze.

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Hermione heard the sloshing of water against something and felt the swaying motion of something drifting on the ocean waves as her senses returned to her. She stood up to find herself in a small dinghy drifting in the open ocean, with no land in sight in any direction.

Grabbing the oars, Hermione tried to row away, but found her oars caught on something in the water. After a large amount of tugging, the oars tore loose from whatever held them. Hermione raised them out of the water and saw that tangled around the ends of the oars were green, rope-like plants. Hermione sighed in frustration as she looked over the edge of the boat and saw that she was trapped in a large kelp forest.

A playful squeaking caught Hermione's attention, and she turned to see an otter jump into her boat, a fish in its mouth. Hermione groaned in disgust as the soggy mammal began devouring its prey in front of her. Curling up to get as far away from the display as possible, Hermione sighed dejectedly. I hope that the others are faring better than I am, she thought irritably.

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When Blaise woke up, she found herself in a dense, dark rainforest. Sweat already trickling down her forehead, she coughed as she peeled off her muddy sweater, the heat and humidity suffocating her.

Blaise looked around suspiciously as she stood in the forest. She was no expert on this particular environment, but she thought that it rainforests were supposed to be full of life, so why was this place so remarkably silent? No animals were calling; no wind blowing through the trees; there weren't even any insects trying to devour her.

Picking up a fallen branch with a broken, pointed end, Blaise began stepping through the muddy underbrush. She thought she heard something rustling, but when she turned, she saw nothing. Figuring it was just her imagination, she continued onwards, unaware of the creature silently stalking her.

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Emma groaned as she stirred awake. She felt a weight on her chest, and she looked down to see a light brown rabbit sitting on her chest, sniffing at her face. Grunting in effort, Emma lifted herself up, causing the fluffy animal to roll down to her lap. Looking around her, Emma saw that she was in a forest, gray sky visible through the trees.

Suddenly, the rabbit jumped out of her lap and bounced away. Emma quickly got to her feet and chased after the rodent, its brown fur visible against the darker earth. After several minutes of running, the chase ended when the rabbit hopped over to the edge of a still lake and bent down, drinking the cool water. Gasping and panting, Emma shuffled over to the water's edge, where she fell to her knees and began drinking the water as well.

When Emma had slaked her thirst, she straightened up and looked down on her reflection in the water. The rabbit had stopped drinking as well, and the water quickly stilled to a mirror-like state. Its fluffy fur reminded Emma of her rather unruly hair, and its brown eyes resembled her own.

“Are you my animagus form?” Emma asked the rabbit, and immediately felt like an idiot afterwards. Rabbits can't talk you idiot, she thought to herself. The rabbit shuffled around to face her. It wriggled its nose as it sniffed the air, then jumped at Emma, falling through her chest. Emma's head felt faint, and suddenly, her world went black.

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Emma sat up with a gasp, a hand over her chest. She looked around to see that she was back in 12 Grimmauld Place, the other four still lying on the floor, pillows under their heads.

“Oh good, you're awake,” Sirius said behind her. She turned around to see Sirius sitting on the sofa, reading an old and worn copy of Quidditch Monthly, while Lizzie was patting Morgan on the back next to him. He looked up from his magazine to glance at the clock on the wall. “And in only an hour too; I'm impressed,” he added before returning to his magazine. Emma groaned in discomfort as she clutched her throbbing head.

“Here, drink this,” Lizzie said, handing Emma a glass of pumpkin juice. Emma drained the whole glass, grimacing at the bitter taste the potion mixed into it left, but her headache immediately disappeared.

“So what's your animagus form?” Sirius asked, setting his magazine down.

“Umm...it's a rabbit,” Emma said, standing up.

“Interesting,” Sirius said, smiling slightly. “The kitchen's over there,” he continued, pointing towards the kitchen, “help yourself to whatever you like; I don't think the rest are going to wake up for a while.” Nodding in thanks, Emma carefully stepped over her unconscious sister and went into the kitchen to find something to eat.

“How will they know that they've found their forms?” Lizzie asked as she stopped patting Morgan, the infant having given a satisfyingly loud belch.

“The scenarios that this potion creates are usually pretty bleak; your animagus form is usually the only thing left alive,” Sirius said, picking up his magazine. “When they wake up depends on how long it takes for them to realize that.” If Sirius had looked up from his magazine, he would have seen his wife face turn into a scowl.

“And why did you neglect to tell them this before they took the potion?” Lizzie asked in a controlled voice, a tone that Sirius was oblivious to.

“Where's the fun in that?” Sirius asked, looking up. Lizzie's look of barely contained rage alerted Sirius that this was the wrong thing to say.

“You are very lucky that Morgan is here, Sirius Orion Black,” Lizzie growled lowly, “or else you would be having your butt beaten into the ground right now.”

“But I told you what would happen,” Sirius whimpered as he tried to defend himself.

“You said, and I quote, `that they would be out for a few hours.' Never did you say that they would be out indefinitely,” she hissed, keeping her voice low to avoid distressing Morgan. Lizzie scooted over so that she was as far away from Sirius as possible while still sitting on the sofa and pointedly refusing to talk or even look at him.

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Michael and the dog had searched the razed village for what seemed like hours, until he finally found a small basket that was mysteriously untouched by the disaster. Opening it, Michael found a loaf of bread and some carrots. The bread was hard and stale, and the carrots dry and cracked, but it was better than nothing.

“Here you go, boy,” Michael said, offering the dog some food. The animal devoured the offering greedily. Michael chuckled as he watched the dog eat. “You know, you kind of remind me of my dad when he's in his animagus form.” The dog looked up at him, and Michael leaned back in surprise when he saw his own blue-green eyes staring back at him. The dog whined softly, then jumped towards Michael. As he instinctively raised his arms to protect himself, he opened his eyes to find himself lying on the floor of 12 Grimmauld Place. Almost as soon as he regained consciousness, he was pulled into the arms of his mother.

“Mum, I'm alright, I've just got a headache,” Michael grumbled as he tried to shake her off. After giving him his headache potion, Michael left to get something to eat. Afterwards, Lizzie sent him upstairs to do his homework.

Hours had passed, but Harry, Hermione and Blaise still had not awoken, and Lizzie was beginning to worry. She had not spoken a word to Sirius since she berated him, despite his frequent apologies. Finally, as the sun began to sink below the horizon, she spoke to him.

“Is there a counter potion for this?” she asked.

“Yes,” Sirius said, deciding that saying only what was necessary would keep him from being berated again.

“Start brewing it,” she ordered him. “If they're not awake by this time tomorrow, I'm going to wake them up.”

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The writer's block was killing me, so I decided that this was as good a spot as any to stop the chapter.

This chapter took a long time to make: over a week. To put that in perspective, it usually takes me about three hours to write a single chapter.

After staying with a guy who owns a boat for two weeks, I have learned that there isn't much you can do to keep otters from jumping onto your boat and leaving their crap everywhere...in both senses of the word.

Don't forget to read and review!

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I. Hate. Being. Sick.

I don't own Harry Potter, only Lizzie, Whizzy, Morgan and Emma.

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Chapter 3 - The Beast Within, pt. 2

Barty Crouch Jr. scowled darkly as he wandered through the crowds, obtaining more ill gotten funds. Lestrange and Wormtail were wearing on his patience more every day, and he seriously considered stunning his companions and finding another place to stay before the aurors arrived.

Crouch was interrupted from his thoughts by the sounds of a struggle, and of someone shouting in protest. He stopped to see two large police officers dragging a struggling man into a car. Crouch quickly spun around and left the scene before the officers saw him, deciding it was time to get his sandwiches elsewhere.

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Sirius sighed as he sat in a closed door with Remus, sitting in front of a bubbling cauldron while his companion chopped and ground various potion ingredients.

“She seemed fine with it all,” Sirius complained, stirring the potion carefully. “I mean, I thought she already knew; she is a healer after all.” Remus sighed as he vigorously ground some beetle eyes into a fine powder. Having served as James' makeshift counselor whenever he had a fight with Lily made him familiar with this situation. Except for the part where his best friend's son and two friends were in a potion-induced coma for almost ten hours now.

“She may be a healer, Padfoot, but I highly doubt that Lizzie can remember every effect of every single potion ever made,” Remus reasoned as he measured out a tablespoon of ground beetle eyes and handed it to his companion. “Besides, you really should have told the children what to expect before they took the potion.”

“Where's the fun in that?” Sirius protested as he dropped the beetle eyes into the potion and stirred it into the brew.

“I highly doubt that the Zabinis and the Grangers will find that their daughters are in potion-induced comas indefinitely particularly amusing, Sirius,” Remus snorted. Sirius sighed as he set the stirring spoon aside and allowed the potion to simmer.

“You're probably right...as usual,” he admitted glumly. “And there's still the problem about how the hell I'm going to apologize to Lizzie,” he continued, rubbing his temple tiredly.

“You could always get on your knees and beg for forgiveness, like when you missed your first anniversary,” Remus suggested.

“Very funny, Moony; I'm serious,” Sirius deadpanned, “wormwood extract ready?”

“I've known that you're Sirius for years, I can remember your name, and here,” Remus shot back while handing Sirius a bottle of clear liquid, who then poured five drops into the potion.

“That was lame, Moony,” Sirius groaned as he capped the bottle of wormwood extract. “Do you remember what James did to get back into Lily's good graces?” he asked hopefully.

“Offerings of flowers, chocolates, offers to clean the house, or combinations thereof,” Remus recited as he carefully and reluctantly lined up and sliced several squirming grubs. “And sometimes, he got down on his knees and begged forgiveness,” Remus added, grimacing as he scraped the eviscerated grubs into a bowl and cleaned the cutting board with a wave of his wand.

“Damn, Whizzy already cleans the house,” Sirius grumbled as he added more water to keep the potion the right consistency. “I need the bulberry juice now.”

“Can't help you then, Padfoot,” Remus said, shrugging, handing Sirius a custard cup full of juice.

“I know,” Sirius sighed dejectedly. “Still don't have to like it.”

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Harry stumbled through the wasteland of his dream world for what seemed like hours. Despite no sunlight piercing the thick clouds above, Harry felt dizzy and feverish, even though he was not sweating, and his shuffling feet kicked up dust along his path.

His feet growing sore and his mind dull from exhaustion, Harry stopped his fruitless wandering and fell to his knees before collapsing onto his back. As Harry closed his eyes to try and rest, he heard a sharp cawing from above him. He opened his eyes to see a familiar raven circling above him.

“How wonderful,” Harry muttered sarcastically. The black-plumed bird glided down towards Harry and landed gracefully on his chest, its talons digging through Harry's shirt and prodding into his flesh. It shuffled its way up Harry's torso, until it was staring at Harry, its beak barely touching his nose. Harry looked down to see the bird's piercing green eyes staring intently back at him.

Harry frowned in confusion as something about the raven seemed familiar. He sat up, and the raven fluttered to the ground with a squawk. For several seconds, Harry stared at the bird, until something clicked inside his mind.

“Are you…me?” Harry asked the raven, immediately feeling stupid for doing so. To his surprise, the raven let out a caw and jumped at him. As Harry fell back and instinctively held up his hands to block it, the bird fell through him, and Harry suddenly found himself sitting up in the sitting room of 12 Grimmauld Place, wrapped in the arms of his hysterical Godmother.

“Mum! Mum! Get off!” Harry shouted as he tried to struggle out of Lizzie's hold.

“I'm sorry,” Lizzie sniffled, wiping away a stray tear, “I've just been worried. Are you okay, do you feel fine?” she asked, feeling Harry's forehead for a fever.

“I'm fine, Mum, I'm just tired,” Harry said, dismissing Lizzie's anxiety. He turned to see Hermione and Blaise's catatonic forms, but Michael and Emma were missing. “Where are Michael and Emma?” Harry asked.

“Sleeping,” Lizzie answered. “I had to give them a sleeping draught to get them down; they would have stayed up all night otherwise. You should do the same.”

“Mum, I'm fine, I—” Harry tried to protest, but was cut off by a glare from his mother. Nodding obediently, Harry stalked up the stairs and into his room, where he laid in his bed, trying to will himself to sleep.

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Blaise cautiously wielded her makeshift club as she slowly walked through the forest, her shoes making a squelching sound as she treaded through the muddy ground. With the salty sweat stinging her eyes and blurring her vision, she stopped to wipe it from her brow.

As she lowered her sweat-coated arm, Blaise froze as she heard a rustling above her, and raised her branch. She spun around, searching for the animal following her, but the dense treetops made it difficult to see due to a lack of sunlight.

Finally deciding that she was hearing things again, she began to resume her aimless wandering, but froze in her tracks. Hanging in front of her was a large python. Faced with a sudden shock, Blaise forgot her weapon and did the first thing that came to her mind.

She screamed.

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Hermione sighed as she sat in the small rowboat she had remained since she had first consumed the Animagus potion. The sea otter that she had shared company with earlier had left; unfortunately, it had left the remains of the fish it had consumed in the boat, and the hot sun was rotting the scattered fish bones and entrails, creating a foul smell.

Hermione had attempted several times to escape the kelp forest, but every time she tried to row away, her oars would get tangled in the rope-like plants, so she was essentially trapped there.

Hermione groaned as she held her head in her hands. She had not thought to research the Animagus potion before consuming it, and Sirius simply said that it “would come to her,” whatever that meant. Her attempts to figure out the way the potion worked, as well as the gentle rocking of the boat as it bobbed on the waves, had started to give Hermione a headache.

Suddenly though, Hermione felt light, then felt something pulling at her from within, and her world began to fade away....

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“It's been fifteen hours, Sirius, is the potion ready?” Lizzie asked her husband, a gurgling Morgan in one arm.

“Right here,” Sirius said, holding up two vials. Lizzie took the vials and handed Sirius Morgan, who clung to Sirius' shirt, cooing quietly.

“Remus, could you hold her head up, please?” Lizzie asked as she uncorked the first vial and knelt down next to Hermione. Remus held up the teenager's head and Lizzie gently poured the potion into her mouth, rubbing her throat to make her swallow. After the last drop had been consumed, they waited for several tense moments as Remus lowered Hermione's head back down. A few seconds later, Hermione shot up, gasping for air. After the adults had successfully calmed her down, they repeated the procedure for Blaise. After forcing both girls to eat two sandwiches and almost a liter of water each, Lizzie showed them to the guestrooms where they would spend the night.

After the children had been put into bed (including Morgan, who after a good nursing went right to sleep), Lizzie and Sirius began preparing for bed. However, after handing Lizzie the Animagus counter potion, she began giving Sirius the cold shoulder again.

“Liz, honey, I'm sorry,” Sirius pleaded, growing desperate. “I admit it, I made a mistake. Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?” Lizzie sighed as she turned to him.

“Yes, you made a mistake,” she conceded, crossing her arms, “but I'm not the only one you should be apologizing to. You placed children, our children in a potentially dangerous situation without telling them what the potion would do, or what to do once they drink it. What would have happened if they had been injured while they were in that dream world of theirs? And if something did happen to them, what would you tell your parents?” She sighed tiredly as she raised her hand, preventing Sirius from answering. “You know what? Let's just talk about this later; I'm too tired for this right now.” Her rant finished, Lizzie climbed into bed and turned off the light on her side of the bed. Sighing, Sirius could do nothing except repeat her actions, plunging them into darkness as they drifted into a fitful sleep.

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The next day, after the children had woken up and Sirius had given them his apologies, he explained to them how to meditate to achieve the actual metamorphosis into their Animagus forms. He also told them that this process takes time, but Harry and Michael would probably get them first, due to their experience meditating for Occlumency.

That night, Blaise, Hermione and Emma were returned to their parents outside the Muggle entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

After returning to her home and greeting her mother, Blaise immediately dove for the Daily Prophet, eager to get to its crossword puzzle, but stopped when she saw the front article.

MASSIVE CHANGES IN HOGWARTS STAFF

By John Windsten

In a move that has not been seen since the time of the Founders, newly appointed Hogwarts Headmistress Minerva McGonnagal has made eight positions available on the Hogwarts staff. As with every year for over 30 years now, the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is vacant, as well as the position of Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures professors, due to the aforementioned promotion of Prof. McGonnagal, as well as the retirement of CoMC teacher Alexander Kettleburn. Other positions include Potions, Divination, History of Magic, Muggle Studies and castle caretaker, due to the sacking of the positions' previous holders.

“Upon reviewing past records concerning certain subjects, I was appalled by the poor markings from most students,” Headmistress McGonnagal said after asked about the incident. “After conducting a staff-wide investigation, I felt it necesssary to relieve certain people in order to improve the learning environment at Hogwarts. We are supposed to be the best school of magical learning in Europe, and having such inadequate teachers reflects poorly on us all.”

For comments from other teachers, past and current, turn to page 17.

If you are interested in applying for an open position, turn to our job advertisement section, pages 65-68.

Hmm, Blaise hummed mentally. This school year should be interesting, she thought to herself before flipping to the back of the paper and extracting the page containing the crossword puzzle.

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I've finally updated, please don't kill me.

Okay, here's a question concerning this story: Do you want me to bring Ron and Ginny into the story as possible threats to our harmony goodness, or keep them as ignored background characters? If you're a registered member of fanfiction DOT net, I've got a poll in my profile you can vote in. If you're not, just leave a vote in your review.

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