Chapter 52 - part 7

Chapter 29: Frenzy of ExtracurricularsSummary:Hazel is finally brought to a halt, but thankfully she has friends.

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextFebruary arrived, and Hazel abruptly remembered Valentine's Day was a thing. Instantly she worried over how she'd make time to do anything, since it would be on a Monday. Wouldn't there be a Hogsmeade weekend right before it? A quick check of the board said there would be, and she smiled slightly. The only issue was how to get Luna down there, but she had time to think about it later.

Everything else was coming along fine, she reflected. Classes proceeded apace, though it seemed that Professor Trelawney's eyes were going bad again as she had taken to wearing the glasses once more. Hermione and Susan were growing impatient with her as well, and Hazel didn't need to be a Seer to know they would be dropping the class next year, if not sooner.

All their teachers were assigning large amounts of homework every night, in preparation for exams even if they were months away. Charlie was no exception; the typically jovial Professor had a grim expression as he assigned three feet of parchment on Flobberworms. "I know, I know, but it is what it is," he said over the loud groans of distress. "Ministry says I gotta, so I gotta!"

"There aren't even three inches of information on them in the whole world!" Hazel muttered, checking her copy of The Monster Book of Monsters. "Why Flobberworms? Why not Salamanders or Hippogriffs?"

"You sound like Hagrid," Draco replied.

The whole House was up late nearly every night, and if possible the fifth-years and seventh-years were even more harried and irritable. As often as not, Flint was absent from practices, and it fell to Draco to run their team through their drills while Hazel kept on coaching the Gryffindors. Fortunately, Angelina and the twins were quick studies, and with a demanding practice regimen set up for them they had their teams whipped into shape soon enough.

"I don't think we've ever drilled so hard," Fred told her one evening, leaning on his broom and trying to catch his breath. "Not the whole team, anyway… How d'you do it anyway?"

"Do what?" she replied absently, one eye on the teams while the rest of her mind was working out an Arithmancy essay in her head.

"Everything!" he retorted, snapping his fingers beneath her nose. "All these classes, all this shit! You still haven't found time to go swimming in the lake, have you?"

"Oh shit, you're right!" She recalled the hasty boast she had made at the beginning of the year. "The lake's gonna thaw out pretty soon too, isn't it!" Sunday would be a good time for it, she'd have a while after breakfast to pull it off. "Whatever, get back to work. Wood isn't complaining." Indeed, the former captain was hunched over as he swung the iron-shod beater's bat as hard as he could, and he acted as if training with the team's mortal enemies was some masochistic form of penance for being a shit captain.

For all she knew, maybe it was.

The weekend finally came, and she plowed through the week's remaining assignments before lunch, and then an extended practice with both teams afterward. Up in the stands she saw Cedric Diggory and Roger Davies taking and comparing notes as the afternoon wore on, and she waved cheekily at them while flying by at one point; they waved back, but otherwise kept to themselves, and she was happy to leave them to it.

Finally it was Sunday, and she hurried through breakfast and dashed back down to her dorm, where she pulled a Muggle one-piece swimsuit on beneath her robes and went out to the grounds. There weren't any rules against swimming in the lake as far as she knew, though there were plenty of reasons not to, like grindylows and merpeople, but she didn't plan on swimming too far from shore anyway.

Just to be safe, though, she walked around the shore until the edge of the Forbidden Forest concealed her from view of anyone in the castle. No one would question her absence, as she frequently disappeared on Sunday mornings for hours on end, whether to fool about in the Room of Requirement or simply to explore the castle.

Of course it was still frozen over, so she used the Fire-Making Charm to melt a hole in the ice big enough for her to slide through. Then she shrugged her robes off and stood there shivering for a moment, before dipping her toe into the water. "Fuck that's cold!" she swore, jerking her foot back. She wanted to cast a Warming Charm on herself, but that would be weakness; she had to withstand the full force of the cold before she'd let herself rely on magic.

She tried again, this time using Occlumency to get a grip on herself, and again put her foot in the water. She could still feel the cold, but her mental discipline let her bear it, and she put the other foot in too. Then, taking a deep breath, she hunched down and submerged herself fully, letting the freezing water engulf her body.

The water hit her chest hard, and her lungs really didn't like the sudden transition, she decided as her body adjusted; no doubt it would hit a lot harder without Occlumency. A moment later she decided her pride was satisfied, so she rose out of the water, gasping for breath as the chill air hit her skin harder than the water had, and splashed back to her wand to cast a Warming Charm on herself. That made everything more bearable, and she ducked back into the water with a will so she could swim about and make a fool of herself where no one could see.

The second time she came up for breath she decided to take her wand, so she could blast through the ice in different spots and head out a little farther. Not too much farther, of course. Having to come up for air at all made her want to learn the Bubble-Head Charm, and she put another task on her mental to-do list.

Ooh. She came up short as another thought occurred; she was close to getting a handle on Switching, she could show off for Luna during their trip! Though what they would do with another woman's underthings was a question to consider for later. Then she wondered what Sirius would do with them, and nearly lost her breakfast!

After that she decided her field trip was over, and swam back to the surface and to her robes. A quick hot-air charm dried her out so she could get dressed again, and she returned to the castle, where she got her broom and flew around until lunch time.

Dueling club was fun, as usual, and Draco got a few hits on her he wouldn't have otherwise since her mind was on other things. And right after dinner she went to get Luna. "I want to show you something cool, come on upstairs."

"Will it take long? I have to study still," she replied, hanging back.

"No, it won't take that long." Luna shrugged and went with her, and they ducked under Hazel's Cloak until they reached the seventh floor and the Room of Requirement.

"Oh, this place? You're not here to show me the Unforgivable Curses, are you?" she asked uncertainly.

"Huh? No way, this is something else." She called for her Switching room and went in, closing the door firmly behind them. "Okay, hold still."

Later on, after getting the hang of the spell at last, Hazel remembered her plans. "So hey, there's a Hogsmeade visit before Valentine's Day this year, do you want to go down there with me?" she asked. "You can go under my Invisibility Cloak, or we can look for a secret passage."

"Hogsmeade, don't you have to be in third year for that?" she replied. "I guess it might be fun, but I have to get my homework done first or Professor Flitwick will be unhappy."

"Well, do your best, alright? I really want to spend time with you down there." Hazel smiled and handed Luna her underthings back. "We should get going, we've had enough fun for tonight." A few minutes later, after checking the map, they left the Room and returned to their dorms. With no homework to bother her she spent time with her friends, playing Exploding Snap and comparing essays.

Her happiness didn't last long, unfortunately. The start of the week was marred by the same persistent headache, which Occlumency was less and less able to stave off recently. Quidditch practice helped, but as she was doing more coaching and less actual practicing, she couldn't find much of the release she felt when bashing at Bludgers as hard as she could. What was going on here? Her mental defenses weren't working so well; they helped keep her temper in check, but it was always obvious to her friends when she was concentrating on them, and they couldn't keep the headache away like before.

When she couldn't stand it any longer, she went back to Professor Snape, waiting until after classes this time. "Professor Snape?" she called, knocking on his door. As usual it opened by itself, and she went inside. "Sir?"

"Potter." Snape was once again intent at his station, all his attention on the seemingly complex potion before him. She recognized some of the ingredients: lacewing flies, boomslang skin and knotgrass. The others were above her experience.

"What are you brewing, sir?" she asked, moving to stand next to him.

"Take a guess, Potter," was the terse reply.

She pouted, but cleared her throat and watched more carefully. The ingredients, the ingredients… the lacewing flies had been stewing for a long time, she could tell, and she had a feeling the process wasn't quite finished. "What are these, sir?" she asked, pointing to several bundles of green stemmed plants with little purple flowers.

"Fluxweed."

"Oh! You're brewing Polyjuice Potion, sir, aren't you?"

"Indeed, ten points to Slytherin." At last he spared her a glance and a nod. "In preparation for a sixth-year class, of course. Dare I ask where you heard of Polyjuice Potion?"

She felt herself flush and looked away. "Draco's family library, I spent a few weeks there, summer before last." A frightfully complex potion, but if brewed correctly it could let you assume the appearance of another person, as it remade your body into theirs. She had wondered at the time if it was illegal or not; even at 12, she could see how it could be misused…

"Mm." She couldn't tell what he thought of that. "What was your purpose in coming here, Potter?"

"These headaches, sir." Just thinking about it brought the pain surging back, and she rubbed her forehead with a grimace. Or maybe it was the smell of that Potion! It really did smell foul. "Occlumency isn't working lately, to keep it away, and I don't want to rely on Madam Pomfrey's potions so much."

"You are aware the only cure is to stop pushing yourself so hard, yes?" he replied severely. "True rest and relaxation, not whatever frenzy of extracurriculars you consider time off."

She repressed a growl. "Sir, I- I can't relax. If I relax, the nightmares come back, Occlumency or not." That was how it started, anyway, and it had become spiteful habit since then.

For a long minute he didn't reply, focused as he was on the potion. Finally he lowered his wand and stepped back. "At this stage it needs to steep, and one can turn their back to attend to other matters," he explained, turning to look down at her directly. "Wayward students, for instance."

"I'm not wayward," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "If anything I'm motivated!"

"Perhaps too motivated." He swept by toward his classroom, beckoning her to follow. "There is a precise use of Occlumency you have evidently not picked up on yet, one that would do more to alleviate your headaches and symptoms of stress. I will guide you on one condition." He turned, and fixed her with his glare. "This weekend, you set aside all assignments and activities and rest. You need that more than anything else, Miss Potter."

"And if I don't you'll give me detention in the hospital wing, I'm sure," she muttered, and the quirk of his lip confirmed her accusation. "Ugh. Fine, I'll do my best to take the weekend off."

"I mean all activities, Potter. No dueling club, no Quidditch practice, no homework, nothing."

"Nothing? Sir, I can't just- I can't just sit still for two whole days!" She had to do something or she'd go mad from boredom! "Could I go swimming, at least?"

"Swimming is acceptable. I suggest you seek out Miss Lovegood as well. Now, to the task at hand." He drew his wand and cleared a space in the center of the room. "This should not take long. First, you will focus on your mental barriers."

Nodding, she drew her wand and closed her eyes, bringing the familiar fortress up within her mind's eye. "I see it, sir."

"Good. Now, narrow your focus down, find the gaps where the pain from your headache is seeping through."

How would she do that? She imagined herself shrinking, and the inner landscape seemed to enlarge around her; focusing on the pain, she followed it through the winding halls, eventually becoming aware of a faint black mist that pervaded the entire area. She kept moving until she found a section where the mist was heavier, and finally located a gap in the walls, where the black mist was oozing through like tainted oil.

"I've found it, sir. There's a crack in the wall, and oil seeping through into a mist," she reported, wincing at being so close to the pain.

"Very good. Attempt to seal the crack off, but do not try to repair it. Until the headache itself is dealt with, any such attempts are doomed to failure."

That didn't sound so hard. She imagined thick globs of mud and threw them at the crack, willing them to harden and form a barrier against the oily mist. After several globs they finally hardened and sealed off the crack, and the headache seemed to ease off, grow distant again.

"It worked," she murmured, opening her eyes and sighing. "Thank you, sir."

"Do not relax too much, Potter, or the repairs will fall and the pain will come back," he warned. "You have to maintain your focus on the crack, and even that will fail in time, as new cracks form to allow the pain through in other places."

"Yes sir." Even this brief respite was enough for her. She made sure she had her things and turned for the door. "I'll be a proper slacker this weekend sir, I promise."

"Very well. Good night, Miss Potter." He returned to his potion as she left the room, once again with a spring in her step.

The rest of the week she was determined to catch up as far as possible before Saturday, so that she could relax with a clear conscience. The hardest part was going up to Flint to explain her upcoming absence. "Oi, Flint. Snape's making me take the weekend off," she told him at lunch on Thursday. "Says if I don't chill for a couple days he's gonna give me detention with Pomfrey, or some damn thing."

"Yeah, he already told me." He clapped her on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, kick back as best you can. If anyone needs a break it's you!"

Well, that wasn't so hard after all, was it. "I guess so. Thanks, Flint. Don't let the rest of them slack off!"

She went back to her part of the table and sat down, filling her plate with food. "Don't wait up for me at the club on Sunday, you guys," she said grudgingly. "I'm reluctantly taking the weekend off."

"Fucking finally." Millicent knocked her shoulder, then held a hand out toward Blaise. "Pay up, Zabini!"

"Wha- were you really betting on how long I could keep up with everything?" Hazel demanded.

"I figured you'd give out before Christmas," Blaise replied, passing a handful of sickles to Millicent. "But hell, rumor had it you didn't even take that off!"

"I'll let the others know," Draco murmured, relief evident in his eyes. "Don't worry, I wasn't involved in any bets."

"Good. I can't have my best minion working against me, now can I?" She laughed at the expression on his face. "Come on, I'm joking! Now let's eat, I'm not slacking off until Saturday!"

Notes:I was rather tickled when I came up with the phrase, "frenzy of extracurriculars". Hopefully you're as tickled by reading it.

Chapter 30: Enforced Leisure TimeSummary:What sucks worse than too much work to do? No work to do! At least for our little overachiever.

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextHazel woke up on Saturday, her hand still cramped from clutching a quill during the previous night's furious homework rush. She made herself lay still, though, listening to the dorm beyond her curtains; it was largely quiet, save for the faint gurgling of the pipes and the lake.

Eventually she yawned and got out of bed, getting dressed while the back of her mind worried at what she'd do with herself for a whole day of nothing. The others were getting up too, and she nodded to them before taking off. It was weird to see people about the common room in the morning, after two years of getting up ahead of nearly everyone else, but there was Blaise, by the fire with a book as usual.

"Alright, Blaise?" she asked, sitting nearby like she always did before the day started.

"Mm. And yourself?"

"Totally lost." She rolled her eyes. "I dunno what I was thinking, agreeing to this. What am I gonna do with myself?"

He put the book aside and regarded her seriously. "Truthfully, we were gonna step in if you didn't chill out by Valentine's Day, at least. You were fine after break, but since classes started again you were starting to look sick!"

She remembered seeing circles under her eyes during her nightly examination of herself recently, and sighed. "Why does everyone care, anyway? I'm just one student."

"The hell do you mean, why does everyone care?" came the sound of Draco's voice, followed by Draco himself as he sat down too. Immaculately put together, of course. "You're literally the Heir of Slytherin, remember? Not to mention being the Girl Who Lived!"

"How does that work out?" she replied skeptically, lowering her voice. "Aren't there a lot of Death Eaters' kids in Slytherin? You'd think they'd be… you know."

"Who says they aren't?" Draco replied, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the room. "You're one of Snape's favorites though, and Dumbledore's looking out for you too. No one wants to go against those two."

"As if that would stop this lot!" she retorted. "Come on, Draco, you don't seriously expect me to believe they're scared of Snape!"

Draco rolled his eyes at Blaise, who responded in kind. "It's not just Snape either, it's you. I bet you could wallop any fifth-year in here in a duel."

"You're ridiculous." 

"Am I?" He looked around for Gemma Farley. "Hey, Farley! Come here a second, would you?"

The Head Girl smirked at her friends and meandered over. "What's up, Malfoy?"

"Hazel doesn't think people are scared of her," Draco replied.. "Would you please tell her it's true?"

Gemma laughed. "I'd say it's half true, at least," she said. "For a third-year you're terrifying in a duel, that's for sure. I heard Lupin say you're one of his best students, too."

"I bet you learn some crazy spells later on," Hazel mused, though on the inside she was wondering why she was uncomfortable with the sudden praise. Wasn't this what she wanted, was to be acknowledged for her own achievements?

Gemma laughed again, drew her wand and started showing off, but Hazel was lost in her own thoughts. Was it the suddenness of it all? The weird way her friends were acting about her taking some time to rest? She shook her head at that; it wasn't weird, they were just worried. She was important, after all.

"Okay, well, I'm hungry, so I'm gonna go get breakfast already," she told them as she stood up and went for the door. Even if she had nothing to do, it was probably best to eat her fill and have energy for the lazy day ahead.

After eating she went outside and walked around the grounds, making her way to the lake. She hadn't brought her swimsuit, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the scenery. She looked out over the lake, and her gaze stopped when it spotted a splash. Moments later a finned figure erupted from the water, screeching triumphantly with a grindylow on the end of its trident.

"It's just one of the merpeople," she realized out loud, noting the powerful green tail, the half-feral face, the shameless nudity. She recalled seeing other Slytherin students, fooling around near the windows while merpeople waved and sang, but had never had time to join in. Maybe she should tonight?

Her thoughts were derailed when the merperson surfaced again and stared back at her. But she just waved and disappeared once more, and Hazel wondered why she'd been so casual. Maybe she recognized the green livery on her school robes? Why should she have expected anything else?

The mermaid did look awfully fierce, especially while hunting. Hazel wanted to look that fierce one day, and she occupied herself with contemplating how to look fierce while ambling along the shoreline.

When her stomach decided it was nearly lunch time she turned and made her way back to the castle, and gradually realized that her headache was much less noticeable than it had been. And she wasn't even actively Occlumencing against it either!

…huh? Is that even a word? she thought, stopping in her tracks. "Occlumencing," she said aloud, tasting the way it rolled on her tongue. "No, that's bullshit." There had to be a better word for it. Occluding, maybe? Or maybe it was as basic as "doing Occlumency" at something.

"Wizards need better words for their shit," she decided, nodding sagely to herself as she resumed her steps toward the castle. She hoped there was meatloaf today.

There was plenty of meatloaf, and afterward Quidditch practice. She couldn't participate, but she did settle into the stands to watch and analyze and consider. The Gryffindor team had improved by leaps and bounds under her instruction, and she was glad to see the main and reserve teams both flying flawlessly.

It felt good to realize they flew that well because of her. She did that, Hazel Potter did that, she took a dispirited team of Quidditch lions and kicked them into shape. A strange feeling welled up inside her, and she realized after a few moments that the feeling was pride.

"We're gonna have a hell of a fight next year," she said to herself, laughing out loud. She couldn't wait for it!

After practice she went down and joined her teammates in heading back to the castle, and she was glad to see the usual hostility between Slytherin and Gryffindor was on hold. Working together did that, she reckoned. At dinner everyone was in a good mood, and Hazel ate her fill as always.

In the common room later, Hazel sat by the fire and played Exploding Snap with her friends, feeling loose and languid and liable to sink right into the couch at any moment. Was this what real relaxation felt like? she asked herself. Just sitting here gossiping over exploding card games while the couch threatened to swallow you whole? If so it wasn't so bad. She wondered why she'd been adverse to the idea for so long, had she just gotten into a rut of work and pushing herself over a few months?

It sucked to think she was vulnerable to such a trap. But what else could she do but fall into it head first? Her ambitions waited for no one, after all.

Before bed she even, after much mental arguing, went easy on her nightly routine, and focused her Occlumency solely on properly securing her mind against the pain from the headache that had gone away at last. A quick Muffling Charm to make sure she wouldn't awaken her dormmates in case she had nightmares, and she was shortly drifting away.

Sure enough, the burning, shambling corpse of Professor Quirrell appeared in her dreams to terrorize her, followed by tall cold shapes in ragged cloaks. But a silver snake and a blonde girl in blue robes saved her, and her dreams took a turn for the pleasant after that. She was just glad the nightmares were cut off, she thought distantly.

In the morning she yawned and got out of bed, astonished at how she still felt all lazy and languorous. Today was the Valentine's Day visit to Hogsmeade, she told herself as she took her time getting ready, doing her best to recall the advice she'd gotten about makeup and beauty.

In the mirror she saw Parkinson enter the bathroom, and resolved to ignore her as usual. The other girl made that hard though, when she looked over, saw what Hazel was doing, and rolled her eyes. "Got a hot date today, Potter?" she drawled. "One of your sweaty Gryffindor pals, I bet."

"Like you care." She finished with the makeup wand and put it away. "If you must know I'm gonna sneak Luna Lovegood out with me into Hogsmeade today."

"That little second-year weirdo? Whatever." She looked more closely, then rolled her eyes again and approached Hazel. "And you're doing it all wrong, hold still!"

"I thought you didn't give a damn about my depravity?" Hazel retorted, holding a hand out to stop her.

"I don't! But I do give a damn about you disgracing us, now hold the fuck still already!" she snapped, drawing her wand. "Just relax, will you?"

Deeply regretting leaving her wand by her bed, Hazel stood still as a board while Parkinson muttered spells and flicked her wand here and there; she felt the makeup on her face rearranging itself and her hair shuffling around. "There, now you're presentable. Ask Davis and Greengrass to help you next time, they're good at this stuff." She put her wand away and stood back. "Not as good as I am, of course, but good enough."

"Whatever, Parkinson." She turned to look at herself in the mirror. "What did you do? I can't see a difference." Her hair was definitely neater, though…

"Of course you can't. Get out if you're done in here." She stood and glared until Hazel left, shaking her head at the strange episode.

"What was that all about?" Daphne asked from her bed. "We heard you two talking from in here."

"Oh, Parkinson was offended by my face, I think," and she waved at her face. "Apparently I would have disgraced the entire House walking out the way I was earlier, or something!"

"Since you hardly ever use the stuff I'm not surprised." Tracey was scrutinizing her intently, but whatever she saw wasn't worth getting out of bed just yet. "Whatever, you're fine, get dressed and go have fun."

Get dressed and go have fun, she said. Hazel got dressed, and put her Cloak and the Map in her bag before heading out the door. She waved to the other snakes and kept going, running into Fred and George as she emerged into the Great Hall. "Fred, George!"

"Alright, Hazel?" They both turned and grinned at her. "You haven't gone mad from enforced leisure time yet, I see."

Did everyone know about her little break? She didn't dare let it rattle her. "Nope, not yet anyway." She looked around, then leaned in and lowered her voice. "Hey, I wanna sneak Luna out to Hogsmeade today, you guys got any suggestions?"

They both grinned madly at the thought of mischief. "You know that statue of the one-eyed witch up on the third floor?" Fred whispered. "You tap that and say the word, Dissendium! Then her hump opens up and there's a slide to a tunnel out to Hogsmeade, leads you right up into the cellar at Honeydukes!"

"Bit of a hike though, fair warning," George warned, also glancing around.

"One-eyed witch, Dissendium, Honeydukes," Hazel recited. "Got it, thanks guys!" She shook their hands and hurried toward the Slytherin table, spying Luna sitting with some friends on the way; they made eye contact and Hazel winked, Luna smiled back but didn't stop chattering, and she kept going, sitting down to another hearty breakfast.

Afterward, as everyone left the hall to queue up for Hogsmeade or head back to common rooms, Hazel slipped her Cloak to Luna, along with a note with instructions for the passageway, and hurried on to the queue, where she waited her turn for Filch to sneer at his list and let her by.

Once outside, she was halfway down the lawn before a voice called out. "Hazel, Hazel!" She turned and saw Luna hurrying after her, bold as brass. "Wait up!"

"Luna? How'd you get outside?" she asked stupidly, automatically pulling her into a hug.

Luna just giggled. "Silly, there's no reason we can't go outside, right? I told Filch I had to see Hagrid about something and he let me right by!"

Silly indeed, she realized, rolling her eyes at herself. "Put the Cloak on anyway, okay? No sense letting him see you walking with me."

Eventually they reached the village, and slipped by the crowds for Madam Puddifoot's tea shop. Luna pulled the cloak off and they went inside, where Madam Puddifoot herself, a short and rather stout woman with a shiny bun of black hair and a bright smile, was busy serving the holiday crowd.

"Table for two, m'dears?" she asked, shining that smile on Hazel and Luna. Hazel nodded in reply. "Righto! That one in the corner's free! Get ya anything?"

"Just a tea service, ma'am," Hazel replied, taking Luna's hand and guiding her through to the corner. It was very closely set, perfect for two teenagers in love, and they had their tea in a flash.

Hazel was a little self conscious at first, about acting silly in a public place, but when she realized everyone else was too busy being silly and self conscious to notice two more girls, she relaxed and got into the mood, pouring tea and feeding Luna little cakes and cookies and having a lovely time.

"You should do that spell, Hazel," she murmured with a mischievous sparkle in her pale blue eyes. "That perverted spell!"

"Here?" She looked around, noticing everyone was preoccupied with their own affairs. "Hm, I'm not sure I could do it quietly enough…"

"Sure you could, if I hadn't known it was happening I wouldn't have spotted it myself."

Hardly reassuring, she thought. She looked more intently, for anyone she knew or anyone she thought would be Muggle-born; they were more likely to have cute underthings, she reckoned. "Let's do it on the way out, at least, we could get in so much trouble if they notice and word gets back to the Castle."

So they finished their tea and cakes and got up, leaving a pile of sickles to pay the bill before heading to the door. Nervously, Hazel had one eye on a pretty, older Hufflepuff girl who was far too preoccupied with a similarly older Ravenclaw lad, to the point that she doubted either of them would notice an earthquake. She flicked her wand and muttered the spell, jamming both hands in her pockets when she felt cloth appearing in one of them.

Once outside they ducked down an alley so Hazel could examine her prize. "Wow," she murmured, looking at the wispy bit of silk. "Definitely a Muggle-born, these are from Marks & Spencer."

"I told my friends you'd get me a new quill, Hazel, so let's go look at those," Luna suggested. Hazel nodded and put the silky thing away again, stepping out of the alleyway with a spring in her step.

She bought a lot more than a quill or two, before all was said and done. This always happened when they went to Hogsmeade, she reckoned, and wondered how much money the village made off of students with loose purse strings. On the way back they went around so that they came from the direction of Hagrid's hut, and that way anyone watching would think Hazel had gone down too and they came back together.

And after lunch the two of them snuck up to the Room of Requirement, where they were quite preoccupied indeed.

Notes:So if you got this far and you feel like screeching at me for the little bit of fuckery Hazel and Luna got up to, feel free. But know this: I included it for a reason, to show that Hazel has no impulse control and no decent adult role models, and is very much a 90s child. Furthermore, the tone of the books surrounding sexual assault (love potions treated as pranks, a teacher with an eye that can see through clothes treated as no big deal, the potential for things like Polyjuice Potion, the Imperius Curse and the Confundus Charm to be misused), led me to write this scene in a similar vein. But like I said, nothing else comes of it; she returns the underwear in the next chapter.

Chapter 31: Mischief ManagedSummary:In which Hazel manages a lot of things, not just mischief.

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextA few days after the Hogsmeade trip, Hazel still hadn't done anything with the stolen knickers, mostly because she wasn't sure what to do with them. She knew she should feel bad, for having disobeyed Lupin and McGonagall, and wondered why she didn't. Was it because she had gotten the prank idea from Sirius?

Either way it was awkward having stolen underwear, and she debated with herself on how to fix the situation. She couldn't just march over and own up to it, that was a one-way ticket to being suspended. An anonymous note along with the underwear? No, that was cowardly, if she was gonna write a note she'd have to sign it.

In the end she settled on planting the knickers back in the girl's pocket the following Friday, from behind her in the crowd funneling down to dinner. And she didn't hover around to see what the girl did or even if she noticed; brave she might be, she wasn't brave enough to remain at the scene of one of her crimes.

February became March, and Hazel managed to stay ahead of the game. Despite herself she had finally learned the value of relaxing, and so decided that two nights a week would be devoted to rest, to playing with Luna and her other friends. Surprisingly, it made dealing with homework that much easier, as she didn't have to struggle against headaches and exhaustion like she had before.

Draco looked more and more anxious as time went on, and she thought she knew why; the time was coming closer for Lucius to be released from Azkaban, and she knew he wouldn't like what awaited him.

"Mother's giving him one chance," he explained in a low voice one evening in the common room, a letter from Narcissa clutched in his hands. "One chance to give up all that Death Eater stuff and be a responsible husband and father. If he doesn't, she's going to initiate divorce proceedings and move back into the old Black place."

"Would he actually do that?" she wondered out loud, finishing up her final essay for the night. "He seems pretty well set on his traditions and things, after all."

"I don't know, but like I said, he's got one chance to do it." He put the letter away and rubbed his eyes. "Merlin's beard, I'm tired. I'm calling an early night."

"Sleep well, Draco." Hazel leaned back and sighed, wondering what to do with herself. She had a couple hours yet before curfew, and no pressing assignments that needed to be done immediately.

Maybe she could go find Luna? No, Luna probably had her own schoolwork to attend to, they couldn't spend every night sneaking off and fooling around. She got out the Marauders Map instead, since there was always time for spying on the rest of the school. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she muttered, tapping it with her wand.

Ink spread out across the faded parchment, and Hogwarts came to life in miniature before her. There she was, in the Slytherin common room which had been filled in since she brought it here. Instinctively she checked for teachers and prefects; Snape was in his office, Gemma Farley and Percy Weasley were in a classroom with other students she assumed were prefects. Filch was prowling outside the Ravenclaw Tower with Mrs Norris.

She flicked her eyes upward, and thought about the four names at the top:

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP 

Not for the first time did she wonder about those four Gryffindor pranksters. Four boys… her father had hung about with three other boys during his time here, she knew. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. "Pettigrew," she murmured, staring at the map without seeing it. No one ever wanted to tell her about him; all she knew was that he was imprisoned in Azkaban.

Her gaze settled on another name, Prongs. What were prongs, anyway? What could that name mean? Snatches of a nearby conversation drifted over while she was racking her brains for ideas, from two boys on their way out: "You shoulda seen the rack on the stag me dad and I brought down over the hols! Wide as me hands all stretched out!"

"Had some nice prongs, then?" the speaker's companion replied, before they reached the door and left.

"Stag," she mumbled. Her father James could turn into a stag, she remembered. And stags apparently had prongs, which she guessed was another word for their antlers. "Wait! Prongs!" Her breath caught in her throat as a rush of epiphanies lit off one after another in her mind. If James was Prongs, then Lupin had to be Moony, right? Because he was a werewolf and affected by the full moon? That meant Sirius could be Padfoot! And Pettigrew was Wormtail, of course.

It would be easy to confirm the story. She checked the map for Lupin, saw him in his office and stood up from the couch. "Mischief managed," she muttered, tapping the map with her wand to dismiss it. No sense bothering with the Cloak, curfew was hours away; she left the common room and took off at a jog for Lupin's office on the third floor.

"Professor? Professor Lupin?" she called, knocking firmly.

"Hazel?" he called back, and the door creaked open. "Haven't you had enough of wandering about at night?"

"Never!" she laughed. "No sir, I wanted to show you this." She crossed the room and placed the Map on his desk. "Does this look familiar?" she asked, scrutinizing his face.

To his credit, he showed no overt reaction, but the quick flash in his eyes told her she was on the right track. "Should it?" he asked instead, shrugging. "Looks like a manky old bit of parchment to me, we should toss it in the fire," and he made as if to slide it toward the fireplace behind him.

"Wait!" She snatched it back before he could. "It's not just parchment and you know it!"

"Very well." He chuckled victoriously. "What is it, then?"

"Don't play stupid, Professor, it's a map of the castle." She slapped it down on the desk again. "You were involved in creating it, I know you were."

"What on earth would give you that impression?" he replied, feigning outrage. "I've better things to do with my time than muck about with something so invasive as that."

"Not when you were in school," she countered. "You were Moony back then. My father was Prongs and Sirius was Padfoot."

"So, that would mean Pettigrew was this Wormtail?" he replied skeptically. "Not exactly the most inspiring nickname, I'd say, even for a boy."

"I told you not to play stupid, sir." Lupin's pedantic ways had their time, but this wasn't it. "I know you're involved here. You were Moony because of being a werewolf, my dad was Prongs because he was a stag, Sirius is Padfoot because he's a dog sometimes, and Pettigrew…" She trailed off, though, realizing she didn't know for certain what was up with that one.

"Yes? And Pettigrew what?" Lupin insisted gently. "You are making fantastic accusations here, Hazel, you're going to need more proof than some flimsy logic and a gut feeling."

"Flimsy?" She cocked an eyebrow at that. "It's not flimsy at all! When I first saw the Map, only the boys' dorms of the Gryffindor tower were detailed minutely, out of all the common rooms and dormitories. So the four of them were Gryffindor boys, just like you and your friends! And the names fit all your animal personas too!"

She recalled an offhand remark she'd once made, and smirked. "And Pettigrew could turn into a rat! That's why he was Wormtail!" She whipped out her wand and tapped the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

The Map unfolded and revealed its secrets, and Lupin sighed. "You're like a dog chasing a bone when you think you've got a secret to dig up, aren't you?" he asked rhetorically. "Fine, I admit it. I was Moony back then, just as you surmised."

"I knew it!" She laughed and felt quite pleased with herself. "You four really were troublemakers, weren't you?"

"It was mostly James and Sirius," he explained, smiling reluctantly. "Pettigrew was more of a follower, and I did my best to curb their worst impulses. I didn't always succeed, suffice to say, even when Dumbledore made me a prefect."

A follower, eh. "If Pettigrew was a follower, then who was he following when he got sent to Azkaban?" she asked.

Instead of answering, Lupin shook his head. "That is not my story to explain, I apologize." He looked at the map, sighed again and drew his wand, muttering "Mischief managed," to himself as he tapped it. "I trust you don't have time to abuse that Map?"

"I hardly have time to abuse myself anymore, Professor." She took the Map back and put it away. "Thank you for your time, sir, I should be going." She bowed and left the room, heading straight back to her common room and then her dorm. She had gotten more answers than she had expected, but there were still plenty of questions lurching about her mind.

What had Pettigrew done to get sent to the worst prison in Britain? Why would no one tell her about it? Why had she been left to piece things together from crumbs and hints dropped by her so-called betters? She had a dim sense of some vast betrayal, and rationally was aware that chasing old nightmares would only end badly for her…

But it was like Lupin had said. When she smelled secrets she just had to pull them into the light of day, come hell or high water. Especially when they might be secrets about herself or her family!

Divination that week wasn't quite a disaster, but it got close. Trelawney's vision had slipped again, as she had taken to wearing the glasses and fumbling about once more. She was still scatterbrained too, frequently trailing off and losing her train of thought. A bit of asking about revealed there was only one NEWT Divination student this year, a familiar Hufflepuff girl; it took Hazel a few moments to realize it was the same girl she'd stolen the underthings off of last month, and she had to hide in a bathroom so no one caught her giggling like a madgirl.

What was she going to do about it, then? She pondered the question over lunch, lining up what she knew about the eccentric professor. She had once been a decent teacher, supposedly; her vision was prone to degrading for mysterious reasons; she was always cold? That was more of an assumption though, based on how she always wore shawls and scarves, and never let the fire in her tower go out.

Her vision was the easiest way to begin, she reckoned. No need to hurry, either. She caught up with Luna after eating and drew her aside. "Luna, are you still hanging around with Professor Trelawney?"

"Yes, I am. The nargles won't leave her alone, poor thing."

No time for nargles! "You should convince her to go see Madam Pomfrey again at some point, she helped before and I'm sure she could help again. Don't let her do just a vision test this time, have her run more tests too."

"I can do that for you." Luna smiled and kissed her cheek, and turned to head off for her next class, humming and skipping along. Hazel felt her heart skip a little as well, and left for her own classes.

The rest of March went by easily enough, punctuated by Hazel sneaking off to the Room of Requirement when she had to get away and vent her darker feelings. Many a conjured pixie and spider writhed beneath her magic, or was snuffed out by flashes of green light; by now she had learned Snape's trick of lowering her Occlumency while using the spells, so that she could put them back up afterward and keep herself under control.

And with the Map, the Cloak and the Hand of Glory, it was pathetically easy to sneak around after dark, so she had free reign of the castle at night as long as she got enough sleep for the day ahead. Especially on Astronomy nights!

Although as April drew near and the Easter holidays loomed, all their professors began piling on the homework, in preparation for the exams at the end of the year. Hazel did her best to pace herself, but even with her best efforts, she felt herself growing irritable and snappy yet again; Quidditch wasn't the break it was supposed to be either, with Flint and other upperclassmen frequently absent because of OWLs or NEWTs, leaving the teams to run themselves.

"Enough slacking!" she shouted at the lot of them one sunny afternoon, a brisk wind blowing across the pitch. "We've got to be ready for the match with Hufflepuff, and we won't get there by lazing about!"

"Whatever you say, Captain," Draco replied, rolling his eyes. That earned him a Bludger, and he darted away with a laugh. Hazel hid a smile and kept going, smacking the Bludgers at anyone she thought was lagging behind; it was an effective strategy, she thought, as everyone pushed themselves to avoid her wrath. And she got to be all angry and snarly as much as she wanted!

The pressure of their assignments mounted, and Hermione was the first to give in. "Not this again! You call this teaching?" she snapped one morning in Divination, shooting to her feet and cutting Trelawney off as she was making some darkly dramatic proclamation or other.

Everyone looked to their professor, who appeared insulted but unsure what to say. "Miss Granger, I… how dare you interrupt-"

"I've had it!" Hermione shouted back, throwing her Divination books to the floor along with the day's assignment. "I give up, I'm leaving!" She stomped across the room and kicked the trap door open so she could slide down the ladder and storm away.

"Professor, you were right!" Lavender Brown said in a mortified whisper. "Remember, in the first day of class? You said one of us would leave forever!"

"Ah, of course I did… I had hoped to be wrong, of course, the Inner Eye can be a burden at times…" She looked to Hazel, who only shrugged and stared blandly back. "A-Anyway! Back on topic, my dears!"

Later, Hazel went to look for Hermione, but she was still sulking and didn't seem up for talking to anyone. "What else happened to her?" she asked Ron.

"Messed up in Herbology, she did," Ron replied, shaking his head. "Sprout let her go again and of course she nailed it, but you know how she is."

"That's too bad." How did a person mess up Herbology? Even Neville had an easy time of it. Well, whatever. She was still worrying over the issue of Professor Trelawney, and wondered if she should get someone besides Luna involved in her efforts to solve it.

She got an owl from Sirius, asking her what she had planned for the holidays. Honestly she had planned on staying at Hogwarts and plowing through her homework, but upon consideration she realized she could do homework just as well in London, since it was likely to still be cold and wet and she'd have an excuse to stay inside. So she wrote back and said she'd like to stay with him and Remus for the holidays.

Finally the holidays came, and it was about time; Hazel's headache was starting to come back. She had breakfast before leaving, and focused on shoring up her mind against the headache while heading to Dumbledore's office. "See you soon, Professor," she called to him as she approached the fireplace, prepared this time for the Floo network.

She didn't hear his reply, as she was already throwing the powder down and stepping into the green flames. "23 Claremont Square!" she yelled, and just like that she was sucked away.

Notes:I started getting impatient when I reached this chapter, and I'm afraid the writing may have suffered just a bit as a result. Oh well.

Who knows what's funny about Sirius' address?

Chapter 32: Spring BreakSummary:Finally, Hazel can take it easy. But does life go easy on her? Never!

Chapter TextThe spinning stopped and she stumbled out of a simple fireplace, finding herself in a clean but sparsely decorated sitting room. One wall was dominated by a large TV and various Muggle electronics, she noticed. "Hello?" she called, clutching her bag tightly.

"Hazel?" someone called back, and footsteps approached before Sirius stepped in. "Ah, we weren't expecting you before lunch." He threw an arm around her shoulders and grinned. "I won't lie, I was surprised when you decided to stay here. Figured you'd want to be with Luna, eh?"

"Luna's busy with other stuff, unfortunately." She was still working to bring Trelawney out of her shell, and with the holidays and an empty castle Hazel hoped she'd have more time. "What about you?"

"Still working, you know, boring grownup things." He led the way to the kitchen, which was also clean and spartan. "Tea?"

"Yes, please." She watched as he flicked his wand and brought a tea service to life on the counter. "This isn't quite the bachelor pad I was expecting, you know."

"Remus made me tidy up," he responded, grinning. "He's indisposed at the moment or he'd be here too." He poured tea and presented her with a cup. "I won't pretend to be as good at tea as Hagrid or Molly, but I like to think we do well enough!"

She tasted it briefly, and decided it needed some sugar. "Well enough," she declared, adding a few cubes. "I'm assuming you have some awful kind of bonding activity planned for while I'm here?"

That made him laugh. "Nothing so awful as whatever you're imagining. No, now that you're here we can take care of something I'd been considering for a while." He sipped his tea, and the grin faded from his face. "I'd like to make you my heir, Hazel. I told you before that I intend to let the Black name die out upon my death, and if my will says that everything goes to you and is to be absorbed by the Potter line, that'll be the end of it for certain."

His words caught her off guard, and she couldn't help but stare at him. "Are you sure?" Heir to the Black dynasty… That was a lot to take in all at once. At least it had an interesting ring to it. "Would that work, though? Are you really the last remaining Black?"

"The last male Black," he replied. "I have a lot of cousins, to be sure, but they're either female and married or too distant to have any solid claim. You've met one of them already: Narcissa Malfoy."

"If she was a Black, then wouldn't Draco be in line to inherit as well? And if your family is patrilineal, would the Black legacy even accept me as Lady?"

Judging by the confusion on his face, he hadn't thought of that. "He might… but isn't Draco one of your underlings at school? He won't want to get in your way, no matter what Narcissa says. Besides, he's in line for the Malfoy inheritance, I doubt he'll want ours as well."

She shook her head. "Would he still be in line even if Narcissa divorces Lucius and moves back into the old family house? She's threatening to do so if he doesn't renounce Riddle and his Death Eaters when he gets out of Azkaban."

"Riddle?"

Right, he didn't know about that. "You-Know-Who?" she explained, rolling her eyes. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? The Dark Lord? Vol-?"

"Okay, okay!" He shivered slightly at the merest thought of that name. "How'd you- wait, no, that business with the diary, right?"

"I thought you were a Gryffindor," she teased. "Scared of a name, what would my father say? What would Remus say?"

"Exactly what you just said." He sighed and drained his cup, pouring a new one. "He thought it was silly to be scared of a name too, said we shouldn't be scared of You Know Who, and Remus says the same thing. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, or something."

"Sounds like something Dumbledore would say." Now there was a man who didn't fear Voldemort, she reckoned. "Hey, Sirius, you were around when I was born, right? Did my parents ever say anything about a seal they put on me?"

"This again?" He couldn't help but laugh. "They did, yeah. Apparently your core was one of the brightest they had ever seen at St Mungo's, and I'm guessing they've seen a lot of cores since the 1600s."

Hazel didn't know why she kept asking people about cores, when she knew it would just irritate her all over again. Maybe she just couldn't help herself. "So they had it sealed off so I wouldn't be a danger to everyone around me," she said, a touch of bitterness infecting her voice.

"Frankly, yes." He put a hand on her shoulder. "You remember your childhood, all the things that went wrong? Think how much worse it could have been if your magic was unhindered, left to run wild. At a minimum, the Statute of Secrecy would be at risk, and knowing your relatives and their aversion to magic you could have become an Obscurial."

Obscurial. That sounded bad, but she didn't want to be sidetracked so she waved it aside for now. "You're being dramatic, Sirius, it wouldn't have been so bad as that."

"Tell that to Professor Burbage when you go back to school later," he suggested. "She'll tell you all about it, I'm sure."

She couldn't help the slight flush of color in her cheeks at the mention of the pretty young Muggle Studies teacher, and Sirius laughed. "You've got it bad, don't you?" he teased.

"Shut up," she muttered, looking away. "You'd have it bad too, Sirius, she's not like any of the other professors."

"Of course not, she's Muggle-born after all." He flicked his wand to summon a tray of sweets and treats to go with their tea. "She might have been an Auror too, I'm pretty sure that was her ambition. I do know she took time off from her magical studies to serve in the Muggle military, so she probably has a perspective on magic and wizarding life that no one else has up there."

"You think she'd know how to use guns?" Hazel had no particular desire to learn to shoot, of course, but like anything else, knowing what was out there would help in defending herself.

"I'm sure she would, but don't go worrying about that. You know perfectly well that guns are heavily controlled in England."

She rolled her eyes again. "Whatever, guns or no guns, she's a great teacher all the same." Then she smirked and rolled up her sleeve so she could flex. "Besides, I got all the guns I'll ever need right here!"

That drew a long laugh out of her godfather, and after a moment she laughed too. "It's not that funny, Sirius, I've been working on these!"

"No, that's not…" He wheezed to a stop and tried to catch his breath. "...James did the same thing all the time… That kinda took me back for a moment…"

Another reminder of her parents, then. She just grinned. "I'm gonna go do homework for a while, okay? When did you want to handle all that Heir stuff?"

"Let's do it tomorrow," he decided after a moment. "We just need to go to Gringotts, really, they can handle the rest once we inform them of my decision."

"Okay." She probably had some business there anyway. "Where am I staying, then?"

"Just up here." He led the way up the narrow stairs and pointed to a closed door. "There's Extension Charms all over the place so you should have plenty of room. And if you can't fix it up yourself feel free to come and get me."

She pushed the door open and saw a small bedroom, not unlike her room at Privet Drive. It had a large bed and a matching desk, thick green carpeting and a window in the opposite wall that opened onto a park. "Will the Trace notice if I do anything? This counts as Muggle London, doesn't it?"

Sirius scoffed. "You're worried about the Trace? It won't trip any alarms here, this place has almost as much magic as the Burrow. Feel free to make the room yours, just don't start any fires." He clapped her on the shoulder and went back downstairs, and she put her bag on the bed and made herself at home.

She worked on the most pressing assignments, then crawled into bed for a quick nap before dinner. Sirius called her down when it was time, and she went down to see he had put together fried chicken and mashed potatoes and things like that.

"So where's the ancestral Black house, anyway?" she asked at one point, chasing some food down with a swallow of milk.

"Mm, it's not too far from here, actually, on a street called Grimmauld Place," he replied. "No one's lived there for years, though I drop in to check once a month; our old house-elf Kreacher keeps it clean, though I'm sure he spends more time polishing the relics and muttering about what a fine old witch my mother was."

"I assume no one can get in without your permission?"

"Smart girl," he nodded approvingly. "And if anyone tries I get a warning." He held up his left hand, and for the first time she saw he had a ring on his middle finger. "There's only two of these rings, one for Lord or Lady Black, and one for the Heir. Both are keyed into the house of course."

Hazel was about to ask what else they could do when a door she hadn't noticed earlier creaked open, and Lupin carefully stepped into the room. "Professor?" she asked, unsure whether she should stand up and help or stay where she was.

"H-Hazel," he panted, giving her a bleary smile. "Lovely to see you… Wish I could've been up earlier…" As usual he looked quite ill, and the scars on his face stood out more than ever. He fell into a seat while Sirius made him a plate. "The worst of it is over, now to recover my strength…"

"Is that a basement or something?" Hazel asked, nodding at the mystery door.

"Indeed it is, reinforced and soundproofed to keep the neighbors in ignorance," Sirius said. "Made to withstand the full rage of a werewolf in times we can't get hold of his medicine."

"I am very lucky to have Sirius around, he can keep me company in his animal form," Lupin said. They smiled at each other, and Hazel looked away, not wanting to intrude on their happiness. "Very lucky indeed."

"Are you two, like, you know." In a relationship, she hesitated to say, just in case she was wrong.

"Off and on, you might say." Sirius didn't seem offended. "We're two bachelors living together in London, obviously we can't be in everyone's faces about it." His grin turned a little sly. "You and Luna will have to be careful too, you know. Our kind don't care so much about it, but the Muggles can be quite judgyabout that sort of thing."

Her ears burned slightly and she looked away. "Yeah, I know. Really not in a hurry to find out what Uncle Vernon thinks about dykes and fags." Bad enough she was a witch, but if they knew which team she swung for they'd be impossible!

They finished eating and stood up, Sirius flicking his wand to put the dishes away to clean. "Exploding Snap, anyone?" The rest of the evening went by thus, the three of them playing cards with the TV on in the background. All three of them had singed eyebrows by the end, but those were trivial to repair.

That night, while getting ready for bed, Hazle decided staying with her godfather and the Professor wasn't as bad as she had thought it would be before. They weren't nearly as judgemental as she'd been afraid of, either, which definitely made a difference. And curious what sort of dreams she might have, she went easy on her mental focus too.

Chapter 33: Heir to the House of BlackSummary:Sirius makes Hazel his heir, and things happen very quickly after that. No rest for the wicked!

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextHer dreams were confusing, of course, a kaleidoscope of her friends and classes, and the women and girls she had crushes on. The darker stretches featured the undead Quirrell as usual, but time and distance were allowing her to ignore him more and more. She was reasonably well rested in the morning, despite the nightmares.

After breakfast, Sirius took her straight to Gringotts via side-along apparition. She kept herself from barfing all over the steps, somehow, and they went inside. Instantly she noticed he was different; he stood up straight and had a cold, distant expression on his face, and when he approached the nearest available goblin he was stiff and regal. "Lord Sirius Black and Heir Hazel Potter to speak with Griphook and Gnashfang as soon as possible, if it pleases you."

"Right away, Lord Black," the goblin replied, gesturing for them to follow. He led them to a meeting room and disappeared, leaving them alone while he fetched their contacts.

"What's with the attitude, Sirius?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"They're goblins, Hazel, they appreciate that sort of thing," he replied, rolling his eyes. She doubted that was true, but didn't want to make a fuss of it.

The two goblins appeared within minutes. "How might we serve, good sir?" Gnashfang murmured, bowing.

"I wish to instate Hazel Jade Potter as the Heir to House Black," he replied haughtily. "By my authority as Lord Black, all other claims are to be immediately vacated and annulled, especially any claim posed by Draco Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, or Bellatrix Black Lestrange."

"Heir Potter already stands to inherit more than just the Potter responsibilities, milord," Griphook said. "She is an acknowledged Heir of Salazar Slytherin himself, and with the Gaunt line extinct and the last known Heir out of favor with our nation, she is the only one."

"I can handle it," she asserted calmly. "It's in my blood, after all, is it not?"

"She can handle it," Sirius agreed. "The paperwork should already be prepared, correct?"

"Quite so." Gnashfang brought out several scrolls, unfurling them on the table with a click of his fingers; a second click conjured quill and ink, as well as a long stick of green wax. "Please sign at the appropriate blanks, if you would."

Sirius went first, dipping the quill and signing at the bottom of each of the scrolls. Hazel studied them, but didn't get very far; all the wording was dense and eye-wateringly archaic, legalese of the worst kind. The gist of it seemed to be just what Sirius had asked for, a formal acknowledgement of herself as his Heir, and all others being barred from any claim.

Once all the scrolls were signed, Gnashfang sanded each signature, and handed Sirius the stick of wax. "They must be sealed as well," he explained when he caught Hazel's stare. This was accomplished quite quickly, with Sirius flicking his wand so that blobs of wax melted and dropped to the scrolls, and he pulled his ring off his finger and stamped each blob firmly.

"Now, Heir Potter, you sign these three," Griphook explained, handing the sheets to her. She dipped the quill and signed the three lines, and the parchments flashed green. "The Black legacy has accepted you, milady."

"That's it?" she asked, placing the quill back. "That was easy."

"Of course it was." Sirius flicked his wand again, and a silver ring appeared before her. It had an ornate letter B and an emerald coat of arms on it, she saw. "Put that on, then."

She slipped it over her left middle finger, like Sirius wore his, and watched as it shrank to fit perfectly behind the knuckle. "So what comes with this, then?"

"For now, not much," Sirius explained as the goblins gathered everything up and took it away for filing. "You have access to the old house at Grimmauld Place, no matter what sort of enchantments or protections may be placed on it. And you can command any house elf that may be bound to it as well, though for now we only have one."

"Kreacher, you said." She wasn't sure what to think of having her very own house elf, and resolved to leave it alone as much as possible.

Griphook returned, carrying a small box before him. "One more thing, Heir Potter," he said, placing the box on the table. "Thanks to the paranoia of the Gaunts, we only have one relic of Slytherin remaining, though it will prove the most useful for you." He opened the box to reveal a gold ring, emblazoned with dark green gems and sporting a basilisk curled in the shape of an S. "This ring belonged to Selima Slytherin, and with it you will never be unarmed; it is connected to the dagger you showed me last summer, and you can summon it to you wherever you are with a thought."

She placed this one on her right middle finger, and it shrank down like the first ring. "With a thought, you said?" She thought of the dagger, wished it into her hand, but nothing happened.

"Press down on the middle of the snake and try again," Griphook said, and she did so; there was a faint click, but still nothing happened. "You may need to reunite the two items first, but once the magic in question is working, you can summon and banish the dagger at will. If you wish to avoid summoning it inadvertently, simply press the middle and it will remain in place."

"What else can it do?" she asked. "And why didn't you present it to me before?"

"Nothing that we are aware of, unfortunately," he admitted. "You may find answers at Hogwarts, if you wish to learn more. As for your second question, it was simply that we had to make inquiries to ensure you really were an Heir. A blood test and the opinion of a beast are not sufficient."

She wondered what sort of proof they had found in the meantime, but didn't have time to think about it too hard. "You can hide them as well, if you'd care to conceal your new status," Sirius explained. "Simply clench your fists and imagine the rings disappearing, and they'll fade from view."

She tried that, and this time it worked. "Very cool." She looked to the goblins again. "Is there anything else tied to the Gaunts or the Slytherins that I could inherit as well, that you know of?"

"Merely a ruined hovel on the outskirts of Little Hangleton," Griphook explained, a moue of distaste crossing his features for a moment. "They had delusions of grandeur and very little sense regarding wealth, so whatever riches may have been passed down were squandered long ago."

She looked up at Sirius, and saw the same curiosity she felt in his eyes. "Search the old vaults for anything belonging to Slytherin or his descendents, please, and if you do find anything, transfer it to the Potter vaults and notify me discreetly," she told Griphook. "Deeds, artifacts, gold, whatever." She stood up and offered them a bow, they bowed back, and she left with Sirius at her side.

Once back outside, she looked up at him and smirked. "Little Hangleton?"

"Not yet." He smirked back. "First I want to visit the old place, I remember an old locket that had a design on it that was a lot like that ring. But we should head back home and get that knife before anything else."

She nodded and gripped his arm, and they apparated away back to the bachelor pad. She ran upstairs and dug into her bag, pulling the dagger out and bringing the Slytherin ring back into view; she gripped it with her right hand, and ring and dagger both grew warm before the dagger disappeared. Remembering what the goblins said she pressed on the snake and thought hard, and it reappeared once more.

"This is gonna be fun," she giggled, banishing the dagger again and pressing on the ring before making it fade away. It would be easy to imbue it with basilisk venom too, and then she'd have the perfect sneak weapon always on hand! Or was it in hand?

A quick cup of tea for their nerves, and Sirius took them to 12 Grimmauld Place. It was an imposing old pile of a townhouse, sandwiched between 11 and 13 of course. "Doesn't look like much," she remarked, staring up at the chipped green paint, broken and boarded windows, and cracked steps leading up to the battered door.

"Of course it doesn't, but the Muggles can't see the place; my family have been pureblood maniacs for centuries." He strode up to the door and tapped it with his wand so that it groaned open. "Come on in, then."

It was quite dark inside, and though it was clean it felt unlived in. Sirius lighting the lamps along the walls did not alleviate this impression. "It feels like a mausoleum," Hazel muttered, peering at the empty portraits on the walls.

"Kreacher won't allow anything else, the old nutter," he replied. "Speaking of- KREACHER!"

A slight pop heralded the appearance of the oldest, most demented house elf Hazel had ever seen. No bigger than any other house elf, it had tufts of white hair poking out from its ears, and bloodshot, watery eyes that regarded Sirius with deepest loathing. "Welcome back, Master," it simpered, its voice hoarse like a bullfrog's croaking. "Has Master finally come to reclaim the seat of his ancestors?"

"No." He bit the word off like it tasted bad. "Kreacher, you have a new master. Meet my Heir, Hazel Potter."

Its eyes went wide at the name, and it looked up at her, at the scar on her forehead. "It IS her," it croaked to itself. "Kreacher heard how Hazel Potter destroyed the Dark Lord…"

"That's right, and I'll do it again," she said impatiently. She went to one knee and revealed her Slytherin ring. "Look closely, Kreacher, have you ever seen a locket with a design like this?"

Kreacher's eyes went even wider at the sight of the snake-like letter S. "That… Master Regulus…"

"What's my brother got to do with this?" Sirius demanded. "Actually, it doesn't matter, just bring it to us."

The house elf disappeared again, and minutes later came back, a golden locket in its grasp. Hazel took it from the elf, and felt something dark and familiar inside. "How did you get this locket, Kreacher?" she asked, looking it over.

"Not here," Kreacher rasped, glancing at a set of curtains on the wall. "Follow Kreacher…" It led them out of the entrance and down a set of stairs to a kitchen, where it snapped its fingers and had the fireplace full of burning wood instantly. "Master Regulus came to Kreacher, a year after joining the Dark Lord, two years after Master Sirius ran away, bad boy that he was… Master Regulus said the Dark Lord needed an elf."

"An elf?" Sirius asked. He sat at the counter and looked confused, apparently having never heard this before. "What did he need with an elf, Kreacher?"

"Master Regulus was proud to serve, proud to volunteer Kreacher for whatever was needed. Told Kreacher to do whatever he was told and then to come home," it muttered, shivering and clutching itself. "The Dark Lord came, and took Kreacher to a cave by the sea. Beyond the cave was a great cavern, and inside was a great black lake…"

Hazel could almost imagine it in her mind's eye. The foul Tom Riddle and the shivering Kreacher, flying along the coast to an ancient, broken grotto…

"The Dark Lord took Kreacher across the lake with a boat, and there was an island in the middle with a basin, full of p-potion… Kreacher had to drink it all, every last drop… Kreacher's insides burned, Kreacher saw terrible things, he cried for Master Regulus and for his Mistress Walburga, but the Dark Lord only laughed… and when the basin was empty, the Dark Lord put that locket in it and refilled it… then he left Kreacher alone…"

Sirius looked gobsmacked at the story, and Hazel could tell he was regretting his treatment of the elf. "What then, Kreacher?"

"Kreacher needed water, he was burning up inside… crawled to the lake, tried to drink, but dead hands rose up to drag Kreacher down… but Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back home, so Kreacher came back home…"

"Inferi," Sirius muttered. She gave him a confused look, and he shook his head. "Reanimated corpses, You-Know-Who must have had an army of them. What happened next, Kreacher?"

"Kreacher told Master Regulus what happened, and Master was troubled… he told Kreacher to hide, to stay in the house, and one night later on he came back, troubled and disturbed… he ordered Kreacher to take him to the place the Dark Lord had taken him, show him what was there… Kreacher and Master Regulus crossed the lake to the island, and then he took out another locket…"

Hazel and Sirius exchanged horrified looks, but they didn't dare interrupt.

Kreacher was crying now, tears and globs of snot pouring down its face, but it couldn't stop. "Kreacher was ordered to swap the lockets, to leave without Master Regulus and take the first locket home, to never tell Mistress Walburga, to try everything he could to destroy it… and then Master Regulus drank the potion, drank all the potion… oh, the things he screamed… Kreacher tried to make him stop, tried to comfort the Master, but Master resisted…"

"Regulus, you poor, deluded fool," Sirius murmured. "He was on our side in the end, I can't believe it…"

"What h-happened to Regulus, Kreacher?" she asked, wincing when her voice broke.

"Master Regulus finished drinking the potion, and Kreacher swapped the lockets, and then… and then Master Regulus went to drink from the lake, and he was dragged under…!"

Sirius made a funny retching sound before turning away to vomit into the sink; it took all of Hazel's Occlumency to keep from doing the same herself.

"Kreacher failed!" the elf wailed, falling to its knees. "Kreacher tried everything but could not destroy the locket! Too many dark spells upon it, Kreacher couldn't get it open! He punished himself and tried again, punished himself and tried again, but nothing! Mistress Walburga was mad with grief for losing her little masters, but Kreacher couldn't tell her what happened!"

The elf finally broke down sobbing, curled in on itself, rocking back and forth, and for a few moments, the only sounds were Kreacher sobbing and Sirius retching over the sink.

Notes:I can't believe the end is nearly on us. Only six chapters left!

Chapter 34: Too Early For ClubsSummary:Sirius is not a good role model. That is all.

Chapter TextThere was a sound of running water; Sirius was washing his mouth out. "Kreacher, I'm sorry," he muttered as he came back, looking stricken. "I'm very sorry for the way I've treated you all these years, when you were fighting against You-Know-Who all along. We've been on the same side this whole time…"

"Can Master Sirius destroy the locket?" Kreacher asked hopefully, looking up. "Can he help Kreacher carry out his final orders from Master Regulus?"

"I can certainly try." He gave the locket a grim look. "I'll have to write to Dumbledore immediately, tell him everything we've just learned. I'm certain he'll send Snape, but some things will have to be tolerated." He shook his head and stood up straight. "Kreacher, please get this place ready to be lived in again. Even if I don't come back, Hazel might appreciate having somewhere else to call home besides her relatives' house."

"Kreacher will do everything to make Mistress Hazel feel at home," the elf croaked, bowing low.

"Dark and creepy and full of mysteries, just like the Slytherin dungeons," she said with a laugh. "I feel at home already!"

Sirius laughed too, but he sobered quickly. "We should get going, Remus is going to wonder where we are. Thank you for everything, Kreacher." The elf bowed low, and the two humans left the kitchen and went outside, where Sirius apparated them back to the bachelor pad.

"Hey, you two." Lupin was waiting for them, thankfully with tea. "I heard you come back earlier, but you didn't stay too long."

"No, we had to visit the old place." Sirius still looked a bit haunted, and he reached for a cup of tea. "You'll never believe what Hazel and I just heard from Kreacher, either."

Between them they told the story, and Lupin looked shocked and then resolute. "We have to alert Dumbledore immediately," he said as soon as they were finished. "Another damn relic of Voldemort's. How many are there, anyway?"

"You can send Hedwig, she'll appreciate the exercise, I'm sure," Hazel offered, and Sirius nodded gratefully. She had some tea herself, then went upstairs to get her owl. "I've got a job for you, Hedwig, as soon as Sirius is done writing it," she murmured, gently stroking her owl awake. Hedwig hooted softly and fluttered to her shoulder, and she went back downstairs.

Sirius had parchment and a Muggle pen and was scrawling his missive, and when he was finished he curled it up into a tube and held out a hand for Hedwig. "Hedwig, is it?" he asked, offering her the letter. "You're a very pretty girl, aren't you?" She hooted appreciatively, and he scratched her gently on the head. "Take that straight to Albus Dumbledore, alright? It's quite urgent."

She gave another hoot and took off, flapping out the window that Lupin opened with a flick of his wand. "We should stay here for the rest of the day, in case Dumbledore decides to come down in person," he suggested. "For now, how about lunch?"

They had a few sandwiches, and then, feeling restless, Hazel went up to her room and ran through her exercise routine, stretching and warming up before a series of pushups, situps, pullups off her broom and other things. Enough to work up a sweat and burn off the restless energy she felt. She imagined Hedwig winging across England, still in the grip of late winter even as spring attempted to assert itself.

What would Dumbledore do? she wondered as she worked herself over. Would he immediately send for Snape and descend on Claremont Square in force? Would he take time to gather research and information first? Or would he send a message back requesting the locket be brought directly to Hogwarts?

She got her answer an hour later, when the doorbell rang. She dashed down the stairs just as Sirius was opening it and allowing Dumbledore inside, followed by Snape. "Your letter was alarming enough I felt it prudent to come in person," the Headmaster told Sirius as he shrugged out of his traveling cloak. "Sirius, Severus, I insist that you both set aside your grudges for now, we must work as one."

"Right," Sirius said, favoring Snape with a cool glare but not saying anything else.

Snape replied with a glare of his own. His glance then fell on Hazel, and for some reason she thought he was relieved. "You have the locket, Potter?"

"Yes sir." She pulled it from her pocket and held it up. "It feels weird, I can't quite describe it. Dark, similar but not exactly like the diary."

"Tell me in your own words how you came by this relic, Hazel," Dumbledore said gently, staring at the locket as it dangled from her hand.

She looked to Sirius, who looked unhappy but nodded resignedly. "Well, Sirius took me to Gringotts to make me his Heir this morning," she began, leaning against the banister. "And while we were there, the goblins presented me with a Slytherin ring as well."

"A Slytherin ring?" Dumbledore asked sharply. "Could you show it to us?"

"Er." This was about his locket, she thought, but she held her hand up anyway and revealed the ring. "It belonged to his daughter Selima, apparently. For now it just lets me summon her knife."

For a split second Dumbledore seemed disappointed, but he seemed to rally himself just as fast. "I presume this ring's resemblance to the locket was what prompted Sirius' memory?"

"Yeah, he commented on it as we were leaving the bank. We traveled to Grimmauld Place and asked Kreacher about the locket, and it, er, he told us about Regulus and all that. Regulus ordered him to destroy it, but he failed to do so and has been torturing himself ever since."

"And I was always eager to help him along," Sirius admitted ruefully. "So we've got to destroy the thing, but I'd personally like to know what it is first, apart from an heirloom of old Salazar."

"It is exactly that," Snape murmured, approaching the locket and examining it closely. "Place it on a table, Potter, if you would."

She moved to the living room and set it on the coffee table, and Snape approached, waving his wand over it and muttering spells. "It is genuine," he declared eventually. "It is also alike to the diary; the Dark Lord has implanted some residue or shard of himself into it."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Sirius demanded. "Let's destroy the thing and be done with it!"

"Hold, Sirius." Dumbledore held up a hand. "We should not rush. There is no hurry to destroy it, as there was with the diary, as it is not actively possessing anyone or influencing them. Indeed, it raises many questions that must be answered before we can consider its destruction."

"Like how Riddle came across it?" Hazel suggested, happy to say anything if it meant putting off destroying her inheritance. "Or how he did whatever he did to plant part of himself into it?"

"Among others." A sweep of his wand summoned a familiar crystal box, and Hazel placed the locket inside. "You have my word, Hazel, that we will not move to destroy it without involving you; it is your inheritance and your property, after all."

"What else did you inherit, Potter?" Snape asked.

"A hovel on the outskirts of some place called Little Hangleton," she replied, shrugging. "It belonged to the Gaunts, and apparently they squandered Slytherin's wealth over generations. I'm thinking as soon as Griphook finds the deed I'll go and take possession, there might still be some things hidden there."

"A fine plan," Dumbledore agreed as he held the box beneath one arm. "I would strongly advise against going alone, however. If it was also part of Riddle's inheritance, who knows what traps or failsafes may be in place?"

"Good point." How would she get there by herself, anyway? "Pretty good for my second day off, eh?"

"I'd say some points were in order, but I might be biased," Lupin said unexpectedly, from the door to the kitchen.

"Quite so, fifty points to Slytherin for unearthing another threat to the school and the world," Dumbledore agreed readily, and Hazel grinned happily. Slytherin was sure to win both Cups at the end of the year at this rate!

"We have what we came for, Headmaster, we should return to the castle," Snape said, glaring at Sirius. Hazel could tell it wasn't a full strength glare, though.

"Yeah, clear off then," Sirius replied, glaring back. "Hazel came here to get away from her teachers, after all."

The Headmaster cleared his throat pointedly. "Let us be off then." He shook Sirius' hand, nodded to Hazel and Lupin, and left the house again, Snape in his wake.

"Is it really so hard being civil with him?" she asked, glancing up at her godfather.

"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "Why don't you go for a run or something? Remus and I need some alone time."

She gagged theatrically, but went upstairs to change into something a little warmer. She could always cast a warming charm on herself before leaving, too, but it'd be best to blend in with the Muggles outside. As long as she kept to the high street she figured it'd be okay.

Luckily it was too early for clubs just yet, and no one noticed the girl in a hoodie jogging along. It was strange being in Muggle London; so many people, all dressed in clothing she wouldn't have blinked at a few years ago. She had to actively stop herself from looking too closely, as well, since she didn't want to overwhelm herself on a street full of strangers.

She couldn't stop her mind, of course, and it worried away at the problem of the locket. How would they destroy it? Would it be as easy as forcing it open and stabbing the inside with the sword or the dagger? No, that would destroy the locket itself, they had to kill the piece of Riddle inside it. There had to be a ritual of some kind…

She went from one end of the road to the other, and at the mouth of Claremont Square she paused, staring at the other end. Could she sprint back to the bachelor pad? Why not? The sidewalk was empty after all. She giggled, then took a deep breath and took off!

For several seconds the only real sound was her trainers hitting the pavement below, along with her breath surging in and out of her lungs. Unfortunately, sprinting hadn't been a big part of her physical regimen, so she ran out of steam and lost her momentum only halfway there. "Shit," she panted, easing to a stop so she could lean on her knees for a few moments. "Didn't quite make it…"

She caught her breath again and went on at a more sedate pace, letting herself cool down after the long jog and sudden sprint. She knocked on the door, and shortly got a vague yell of some kind while the locks undid themselves; taking it for an invitation she pushed it open and went inside. "I'm back!" she called, heading upstairs. There was another indistinct reply, and she just laughed it off.

The next day, Remus had to go back to school to prepare for the next term. With no one to rein in mischief, Hazel and Sirius made their own fun; he showed her a few pointers for non-verbal spellcasting, and they spent some time relaxing on a park bench messing with Muggle girls by stealing their underthings.

"How does no one notice us waving our wands over here?" she asked him at one point.

"Muggle Repelling Charm," he explained, witching the underthings off a posh-looking Muggle woman. "Ooh, these are Victoria's Secret. But yeah, they can't see or hear us over here."

"Hopefully no actual witches come along."

"Even if they do, they won't give a damn. They're just Muggles, Hazel." He pointed out a pretty girl in a skirt, distracted by a magazine. "There, you try."

Picking on Muggles when they didn't know what was happening and had no way of fighting back didn't sit well with her, but she tried it anyway, flicking her wand and saying the spell in her head. Nothing happened at first, so she tried it again; it took her a few more tries before a slip of plain cotton appeared in her lap. The girl noticed something amiss though, and Hazel ducked instinctively.

"We're invisible to them, remember?" Sirius said, chuckling at the girl's panicked confusion. With another laugh he flicked his wand, causing her skirt to flip up. "Ha! We can see Christmas!"

"Knock it off, Sirius!" Hazel said sharply, looking away from the alarmed Muggle girl. "It's not funny anymore!"

"Aw, fine." He flicked his wand yet again, and the cotton slip disappeared back to where it came from. "There, happy?"

She wasn't happy, but at least the Muggle girl had her things back. "Yes, thank you," she lied, looking up at him. "Why are you messing with girls anyway, aren't you into boys?"

"Eh, I swing for both sides, honestly, though I connect easier with other men. What's the word, uh… homo-romantic?"

"Homo-romantic," Hazel repeated, tasting the word for herself. It sounded like a word that could apply to herself, to be honest. "That's a fun word, I'll have to tell Luna."

A few moments later Sirius stood up, and Hazel stood up as well. "Non verbal spells could be useful in a duel, I bet," she said.

"For sure, kiddo." He dispelled the charm and started off down the street. "Don't let on that you can use them though, you're not supposed to learn that until sixth year. Now how about fish and chips for lunch?"

"Sure!" He led the way into a pub and they had a lovely lunch, and then it was back to the bachelor pad.

For the rest of break she practiced silent spellcasting, and had a few duels with Sirius in the werewolf-proof basement. It felt great to cut loose and fight with all her skill and power, against an opponent she didn't have to worry about hurting too badly; he was an adult who'd been in a war, after all, and she was no Death Eater.

"You're pretty good for a kid," he declared once. "You could be an Auror one day, for sure!"

"An Auror, huh." Hazel liked the sound of that. Auror Potter! "Speaking of, why haven't you been to work this whole time yourself?"

"I own the garage I work at, so I can take whatever time off I want," he replied. "It's worth it to spend time with my goddaughter, and we're slow right now anyway."

"Being the man in charge has its perks." Sirius was fun to be around, she decided, as long as she wasn't offended by his sense of humor. And made sure she avoided mentioning Snape, or her House. Or the Dark Arts.