Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Company are wholly owned by J.K. Rowling et. al. I am making no profit from their work.

A\N: This is a crack fic. Seriously, do not take it seriously. It starts at the end of the Tri-Wizard cup. Rated M for lots of very bad words and naughty statements. Characters are willfully OOC and most likely intoxicated. This is just light-hearted schlock while I work on my other stories.

Harry reappeared in a flash of blue light. The crowds gasped in shock to see the returning Tri-wizard champion. He was gasping in shallow breathes, his face as pale as lamb's wool. In his hands he held a bloodied trophy. His green eyes stared blankly into the distance.

Albus Dumbledore rushed to Harry's side. "Harry, Harry! What happened."

"Sh-Sh-Sh… Voldemort… Sheep… Wormtail… horror…" Harry stammered.

Fudge followed after Dumbledore hoping to prevent a panic. "What's that boy? I don't understand." He looked to Dumbledore. "Do you know what's wrong with the lad?"

Albus shook his head. "Harry, you've got to calm down. You're safe now. Everything will be alright. What happened?"

Harry took a few calming breathes. "I don't know. First thing I knew Cedric and I were tied to tombstones. In the graveyard there was Pettigrew and this disgusting snake-baby-thing. Then Pettigrew killed Cedric with the Killing Curse. The snake-baby told me it was Voldemort, and they did this strange ritual." Harry held up his arm to show the fresh cut on his arm. "Pettigrew used my blood and cut off his hand into a cauldron. Voldemort came out!"

"Preposterous!" Fudge yelled. Albus held up a hand to silence him.

"Wait, Cornelius, there's more to this tale."

Harry nodded. "After Voldemort put on a robe, he pressed a wand into Pettigrew's Dark Mark. A dozen cloaked figures appeared. Lucius Malfoy was there, and some other people I didn't recognize. He started to taunt me when IT happened." Harry's voice trailed off and he got a horrified expression on his face. He started to shudder.

Albus laid a grandfatherly hand on Harry's shoulder while Fudge sputtered. "Go on, Harry, tell us the rest."

"I… I can't, sir. You won't believe me."

Albus's eyes twinkled. "I will, Harry, no matter what you tell me. I dare say you are too shocked to lie very well."

Harry swallowed. "There was this horrible low noise. It sounded like some sort of crazed animal, well animals. Then…"

"Go on," Dumbledore prompted.

"Sheep sir, dozens of them. They had blood-matted wool and terrible burning red eyes. They decended on Voldemort and the adults around him in a wave of blood and hooves. I'll never forget the sound of screams and baas mingling in the night. On of them sniffed me, sir, and I nearly pissed myself. It looked at me with these eyes… almost human eyes… and licked my scar. It burned like nothing I've ever felt before. Then it seemed to nod and left to eat one of the corpses. I think about five minutes passed before they left. There's only bones and blood in that graveyard now. I think they ate Cedric's corpse, sir, because I couldn't find it. After a few more minutes I was able to work my way free of the bonds and grab the cup. It must have been a portkey. It took me back."

Albus frowned with deep concern while Cornelius exploded at Harry. "How in the world do you expect me to believe such an utter load of poppycock! Boy, did you kill Cedric by yourself or have you gone mad! There isn't one single shred of evidence to support your outlandish…"

Harry interrupted the Minister by tipping the Tri-Wizard Cup at Fudge's feet. Out rolled the snake-like head of Voldemort, its face frozen in an expression of shocked horror. Only a bloody stump remained of the neck.

Fudge screamed like a girl. "GYAH! What… how… well I mean…" He gathered himself back together. "Um… don't say a damn word about the sheep, boy, and we'll both feel better." He tapped his wand to his throat. "Sonorous." With his amplified voice he addressed the crowd.

"Good witches and wizards, I bear news both triumphant and sorrowful! Cedric Diggory has died at the hands of dark men who resurrected You-Know-Who!" The crowd gasped in horror. "Do not fear, the Boy-Who-Lived has triumphed over evil once more! Harry Potter avenged his friend, slaying a dozen Death Eaters and bringing back the head of Lord Thingy! Cedric's died a hero's death valiantly fending off the attacks of You-Know-Who's minions allowing Harry to strike the blows of justice! Let us all remember this day as a time when two great men triumphed over the darkest of challenges! Let us remember Cedric Diggory's sacrifice as we remember Harry Potter's victory! Once again we stand united in our appreciation for those who gave so much for so little! I hereby declare Cedric Diggory the True Hogwarts Tri-Wizard Champion! I hereby declare that all wizards and witches shall henceforth remember this day as Cedric Diggory Day, so that the sacrifices of the Light holding back the tides of Darkness will never be forgotten!" Fudge tapped his throat canceling the spell as he basked in the wild cheers of the crowd. He glanced from side to side mildly amused by the astonished looks on both Dumbledore and Potter's faces.

"Albus, Albus, I am not the Minister of Magic by luck alone! It's obvious to anybody who knows the lad that Harry here hates attention and possesses an incredibly overdeveloped sense of humility. I don't want one damned word said about the sheep. The world doesn't need a mad savior." Fudge looked at Harry meaningfully. "Don't you think its better that Cedric's family has the small comfort that their son died a hero? If Amos is any indication Cedric was a hell of a kid. Let his family and the people think of him as a warrior instead of a victim."

Cornelius smiled at Harry's quick nod of agreement. "Do we have a deal, then? My story is the one we stick by?" Fudge offered his hand to Harry, who took it. They shook, sealing the gentleman's agreement. Cornelius turned to Dumbledore with a raised eyebrow. "I assume the boy's agreement is enough to satisfy you, or are you going to insist on repeating the less pleasant story."

Albus nodded solemnly. "It appears, Cornelius, I have gravely misjudged you. Today you showed me that you deserve your position as Minister. I hope you will not be too terribly inconvenienced by the lack of Lucius Malfoy's council?"

Fudge made a sour face. "His contributions, perhaps, but I feel rather ill that I've taken the council of a willing follower of Lord Thingy. If word gets out… well, shall we let bygones be bygones?"

Albus and Harry nodded. "Hey, wait! Minister, how about you include the bit about Peter Pettigrew being alive and declare Sirius Black a free man? I'll conveniently forget you ever associated with Malfoy."

Fudge smiled down at the boy. "Deal! Sweet Merlin, Mr. Potter, we'll make a politician out of you yet!" He cackled with glee while Albus and Harry made identically sickened faces.

"Merlin I hope not…" the pair muttered under their breath.


Harry walked with Albus up to his office. Albus opened the heavy wooden door revealing a smiling potions professor. Harry's shock prevented him from commenting.

"Albus, look!" Snape exclaimed as he rolled up his left sleeve. He thrust his pasty white forearm under the headmaster's nose. "I don't know how the boy did it, but the Dark Lord is gone for good!" Severus then appeared to notice Dumbledore's companion. He walked over and ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. "I take back everything I ever said about you." Snape beamed down at Harry. He walked past the stunned duo, turned his head and shouted, "Oh, and headmaster? I quit! No more ignoramuses detonating potions! No more snot-nosed brats fucking up my beautiful art! Joy!"

Snape dashed away leaving his gleeful laughter behind.

"Headmaster… that never happened," Harry deadpanned.

Albus nodded. "I concur. Shall we continue our discussion inside?" Harry nodded. The pair walked into the office, Dumbledore taking his customary seat behind his desk and Harry dropping into the large overstuffed chair he'd grown so fond of. "So, Harry m'boy, before I send you back to your dormitory, is there anything you'd like to know?"

Harry nodded, the events of the day still leaving him too stunned to prevaricate. "Yeah… can I please not go back to my relatives this summer? I mean with Sirius's innocence and all. I'd rather not be overworked and starved for another holiday if that's alright with you."

Albus appeared thoughtful. "Well, I can't think of a single reason why you should go back. You see, I put you there originally because of a powerful protective spell your mother cast. Unfortunately it required a blood relative to recharge it. Even though Voldemort is defeated some of his followers still remain. Do you feel avoiding your relatives is worth risking your safety?"


"I see." Albus nodded, ignoring the scandalized gasps coming from the portraits behind him. "Well, no need to tell me again. I'll make sure Sirius has cleaned up his house for you. Lemon drop?"

Harry took the proffered candy and sucked on it contentedly. The headmaster mirrored his actions. Nirvana found a temporary home in Dumbledore's office.


Harry walked into the Gryffindor common room late that night feeling exceptionally hopeful for the future. He didn't know what to expect but what he saw drove iron spikes of horror down his spine. Hermione stayed up knitting little hats while she waited for her friend to arrive.

Knitted little wool hats using colorful wool yarn.

Click. click. click. Harry shuddered as he watched the strands of devil's-hair knot themselves together into a fiendish mockery of outerwear. Hermione looked up to see her friend standing at the portal, face whiter than a Swedish nun's buttocks.

"Harry, what's wrong. I stayed up waiting for you"

Harry's eyes followed her knitting needles. Click. Click. Click. Hermione unconsciously kept up her task while she talked to her friend.


"Stop. Stop that now."

Hermione stared at him, confused and concerned. "Stop what?"

"The knitting. With wool. Stop. You have to stop. It's an abomination!"

"Harry! What do you mean an abomination! I thought you supported S.P.E.W.? You know I'm making these for the house elves!"

"I don't care. Stop! Find another way, that doesn't use…"

"What do you mean you don't care? I thought you agreed with me! Are you saying you were lying to me?" Hermione shouted, eyes brimming with tears.

Harry closed the distance between them to a short space. "Of course I care about house elf freedom. This… abomination isn't the way!"

"So you're saying I can't knit? Is that it Harry James Potter?" Hermione shrieked.

"Damnit, I'm not saying that! I'm saying stop using wool yarn and…"

"So you're saying I shouldn't make clothes for the house elves, is that it? You're saying that I'm wrong, aren't you?"

"Bloody hell Hermione, the fact that you are dead wrong has nothing to do with it. The bloody elves stopped cleaning the hall because of all those hats. Dobby love's 'em, he's got a huge collection! It doesn't matter! That's not what I'm talking about! I'm telling you to…"

"How dare you tell me I'm wrong? How dare you not tell me I was wrong earlier?" Hermione screamed.

Harry moved his face close to Hermione's. She could feel his breath on her lips. His eyes were cold hard emeralds boring into hers. His voice was soft and deadly. Power rolled off of Harry framing each word with lethal finality. "Hermione. Stop. Using. Wool." He stared at her, his eyes conveying both deadly intent and untold affection. When Hermione weakly nodded her agreement, Harry turned and walked to the boy's dormitory. "Thank you, Hermione," he said pausing in the doorway of the dormitory, "I knew I could rely on you. You've never let me down."

Hermione stared at him while he left. She felt the blush on her cheeks flow down her neck to her breasts. She could feel her nipples still hard underneath her shirt, and familiar warmth pooled between her legs.

Stunned, Hermione slunk to her dormitory on wobbly legs intending to scratch her new-found itch quickly. The tiniest of smiles crossed her lips. She'd found her resolution to her silly dilemma, and she looked forward to plotting out her future.

Safely ensconced behind silenced and spell-closed curtains, Hermione stroked her cat while planning her next steps.

Crookshanks paced at the foot of the bed, wondering when his mistress would let him join her.


Back in the Gryffindor common room Lavender and Parvati perfected their imitation of a carp out of water. Neither Harry nor Hermione noticed the pair sitting in the corner watching the entire exchange.

"Hey, Parv… did you just see what I saw?"

"Yeah, Lav, I did. Did you see the look on Hermione's face?"

"Her face Hell, did you see how she was walking after that?"

"Uh huh! I never would have pegged rules-loving bookish Hermione as one of those!"

"Parv, honey, that's precisely why I knew Hermione was one of those! I never would have pegged Harry as having grown enough of a pair to stop acting like my older sister around her."

Parvati turned thoughtfully to Lavender. "I never thought of Harry that way. You're right, he always was rather… feminine around her. No wonder I pegged her as having the hots for Ron."

Lavender giggled. "I doubt that's the case anymore. I wish I had a camera to cherish that moment forever." Parvati joined her giggling. "So, honey, do we help the girl out or enjoy the show?"

Parvati shared a wicked grin with her friend. "Oh, both Lavender, definitely both!"

Asleep in his bed, Harry felt ice cold terror completely unrelated to his horrible nightmare about flesh-rending farm animals.


Ron looked up at his friends. Like usual, his happily stuffed his face with food. Like usual Hermione sat next to Harry. It struck Ron as odd that unlike usual, Hermione sat rather closely to Harry. While he was used to Hermione sneaking concerned glances Harry's way, he wasn't quite able to place the look she currently gave Harry. It definitely did not appear like concern. Rather, it looked almost hungry.

"Harry," Hermione said with a ghost of a smile. "I think I'm going to try something different for breakfast."

Harry shrugged. "Okay, I guess it's good to change habits. What are you thinking of?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the house elves could whip me up some lamb chops."

Ron found himself befuddled by the conversation. Why on earth would Hermione decide to eat lamb chops for breakfast, and he thought she hated the idea of house-elves making special meals. Didn't she go ballistic during the Yule ball over that?

Ron certainly did not expect Harry's response.

"No," Harry said in frigid tones.

Ron boggled at his friends. Harry going ballistic over food? Was that a mischievous glint in her eyes?!?

"Now Harry, I rather fancy the idea of some lamb chops. I think I'm going to ask for them right now." Hermione's voice grew a bit louder. In a detached state, Ron recognized the signs of Hermione working herself into a tizzy. Harry's response floored him.

"I said no. End of story. Lamb," Harry shuddered, "chops are out of the question."

"Are you telling me what I can and cannot eat?" Hermione replied sharply.

Harry nodded. "In this case yes. No lamb. No mutton. It's bad."

"You can't tell me what I can or can not eat, Harry James Potter!" Hermione shouted.

Harry stood up. Hermione stood up to meet his gaze. "If you weren't being a silly girl about this and eating that abomination over a whim, I wouldn't have too!"

"Who are you calling a silly girl?" Hermione shot back. "I'll eat whatever I please!"

Harry reached up and gently grabbed her chin. He stared hard into her eyes with cold rage. "You. Will. Not. Eat. Lamb." He let go and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Hermione plopped back into her seat, shivering.

"Err, Hermione, you alright?" Ron asked, confused and concerned. Had his two best friends gone completely starkers?

"Mmm-hmm," replied Hermione when she finished panting. He boggled at the tiny grin on her features. Hearing giggling to his right, his eyes flicked over Lavender and Parvati whispering in each other's ears while pointing in their direction. Yups, starkers. The whole bloody world had gone starkers.


For the first time, Ron wished he was someplace safe and quiet. Ever since they left entered the compartment, Harry and Hermione were screaming at each other. To make matters worse, it was over Hermione moving to bloody New Zealand and buy a farm or some bloody nonsense. When the bloody hell did Hermione ever get the notion to raise sheep? Ron thought he was going deaf, knew he had a headache, and couldn't figure out the strange light musky smell that filled the air. His sister didn't make matters any clearer when she rushed out of the compartment.

"I've got to go to the Lavend… I mean lavatory. I'll be right back. Maybe."

Stakers. Utterly and completely starkers.


Sirius grabbed his godson into a great big hug. "Harry! It's so good to see you! Now I get you for the whole summer! I'm a free man now, so we can do whatever the hell we feel like. I've got near fifteen years of spoiling to catch up on!" Sirius beamed down at his godson.

Harry grinned up at Sirius. "Thanks. I don't want to be a bother, though. Just being here instead of at the Dursleys is enough…"

Sirius whistled. "Wow, pup, ol' Dumbledore wasn't kidding about you being fucked up. I guess you'll just have to get a solid regimen of Black Counseling."

Harry blanched. "You aren't going to ask me to talk about my problems, are you?"

"Fuck no!" Sirius shouted. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly. Harry emphatically shook his head no. "Alright then. All you have to do is ask, I'll listen whenever you need. Until then, let me introduce you to the two best kinds of medicine for a shattered mind the world has ever seen." Sirius walked over to a cabinet and withdrew a bottle and a magazine. He handed the items to Harry.

"Ogden's and Playwitch?" Harry raised his eyebrow.

"Booze and birds, Harry, booze and birds. Booze and birds are the only things a bloke needs to stay sane in an insane world. Using neither makes a man a devil. One without the other drives him starkers faster than Snape in a shower factory."

"Erm… well I guess I can see that, but I'm rubbish with birds."

"Oh? Well, we've all got to start somewhere. Know any birds that might fancy you? I've heard a few rumors, pup."

"Rumors? Look, Sirius, the only bird I know who fancies me is a little young to consider."

"Oh, well… follow me and let's take a look into those rumors of mine, shall we?"

Harry followed his godfather up the stairs of the Black Mansion. The climbed four stories until they reached a door leading to the attic. Sirius made a great show about producing a key from his shirt, waving his hand while mumbling gibberish, dancing like a flea-infested monkey for four seconds then rapping the key against the door precisely seventeen times.

"Um, Sirius," Harry said while Sirius started to open the door, "was all that really necessary?"

"Yes. Harry, the artifact that lies beyond this door has been the treasured possession of every Black since the founding of our family. For all the dark and evil things it owns, this wonder provides enough light to banish their shadows." Sirius threw open the door, revealing a body-length mirror surrounded by ornate carvings. "Behold, the Mirror of Noitaripsa Sniorg!"

Harry's eyes took in the words carved around the frame. "Noig deralced eht fo snoitaripsa tsetaerg eht laever I"

"Do I want to know?" Harry asked remembering the Mirror of Erised.

"Yes. Yes you do. Sure you see my handsome form in the mirror before you, but as soon as I say your name… well, you better not see my handsome form, that would be creepy. Understandable, but creepy."

"Huh?" Harry asked blankly.

Sirius sighed. "I see you need some examples. Alright, stand here." Sirius pointed to the spot next to him. Harry stepped into the attic and stood next to his godfather. "Good. Now, let's warm this thing up. Say the name of a bloke you know with a fancy you know about."

"Oh, okay, that's easy. Dean's got a real hard one for Ron's little sister. Dean Thomas." Harry's eyes widened as his best mate Ron appeared in the mirror.

Sirius blinked. "Well, I suppose you figured on the wrong Weasley. Try another."

"Alright. Seamus Finnegan." Ron didn't disappear from the mirror. Instead, he started to perform a slow strip-tease. "Augh! Sirius, I think it's broken!"

"No, no pup, it's just a coincidence. Quick, think of another!"

"Draco Malfoy!" Ron remained in the mirror, but his shirt didn't. Harry began to turn an unhealthy green. "Oh Merlin I did NOT need to know that! Um, Um, Vicktor Krum!"

Ron began dancing sensually unhindered by pants.

"GAH! I thought Hermione was my bloody hostage, soddering git piked her! Ron Weasley!" Harry screamed, desperate.

Ron vanished, replaced with the glowering figure of Viktor Krum. Harry blinked. "Sirius, I think I'm going to send Viktor a letter from a fellow champion and make Ron a very happy best mate."

Sirius grinned. "That's the spirit, pup! I'll make a proper Marauder out of you yet. Well, now that you've managed to give yourself some properly character building emotional scars, any birds catch your eyes?"

Harry shook his head. "Sirius, right now I'd like to know there's a bloke in this world who doesn't want to gobble sausage. So how exactly does the mirror decide which sod to display?"

"Good question," Sirius replied. "easy answer too. The mirror brings up the last bird or bloke that the given person rubbed one off to." Harry blushed deeply at the masturbatory reference. "Oh, there's a requirement that the person has to also have at least a realistic fancy, or the mirror'd be utterly useless when dealing with the average guy, if you know what I mean."

"Erm…no. I don't." Harry replied.

"Rub one off? Harry, I was a teenager once. I know how it is. Near chaffed my willy every day."

"Glerg! Sirius, bad mental image. I don't do that."

Sirius scoffed. "Bullshit, pup. You asked for it. Harry Potter."

The mirror lost the image of Viktor and filled with a wispy fog. Sirius boggled. "Merlin's Syphilitic Scrotum pup, you've never rubbed on off? Ever?"


"Harry, that's not healthy. I've got to get you laid. Fast."

"Um, Sirius? No hookers… really, I'm fine."

"Do you want to turn into a Dark Lord, pup?" Sirius asked. "Do you?"

Harry shook his head no.

"Well I have heard from a very reliable source that the former evil-bad-thingy that you whacked never dipped his dick in it. A wet wanker keeps dark thoughts at bay!"

"Erm, I don't think it works that way…"

"I'm your godfather, you will listen to me. I've got your best interests at heart here. Hell, I've got the whole world's best interests at heart! No Lord Pottermort!"

"No hookers."

"Alright, no hookers… spoilsport. So, how about you test that mirror on some birds you know?"

"Sure. Um… Ginny Weasley." Lavender and Parvati both appeared in the mirror clinging to each other in a sensual embrace. Sirius and Harry stared as the pair begin tender nibblings and caresses.

"Harry… do you have any friends who want the normal set of tubing?"

Harry shrugged helplessly. "I'm going to go grab some of that firewhiskey." He staggered down the stairs. Sirius called "I'll be right with you" after him.

Shaking off the image of pure Azkaban-bait beauty before him, Sirius grinned slightly as he remembered the one name Harry didn't call. "Huh, wonder why pup didn't ask about her. Too many shocks to the system, or is it something else. He may look like James, but he's all bloody Remus inside…" Sirius grinned. "Hermione Granger."

His smiled like a kleptomaniac ferret in an unmanned glitter factory. The mirror showed Harry's naked body staring out with cold green eyes and positively glowing with unbound power.

"I'll get pup set right in no time at all. Just got to make a quick apparition while he's sotted."


Sirius appeared in the Granger's kitchen with a sharp crack. He glanced at the figures eating at the table. Mrs. Granger was a dowdy middle-aged woman with her daughter's bushy hair and a gargantuan rack. Mr. Granger looked strict yet beefy, resembling a strange blinding of a librarian and a pit-boss. Hermione sat demurely in her chair wearing a conservatively loose blouse. The trio stared shocked at their sudden visitor.

"Sirius!" Hermione cried out. "Is there something wrong with Harry?"

Perfect! "Yes, I'm afraid he needs his friends pretty badly right now, what with Cedric and all."

Hermione smothered her triumphant grin. "I… " She looked at her parents, gauging how much their shock translated into permissiveness. "I mean, Viktor invited me and my parents to Bulgaria. I'd hate to disappoint him…"

Sirius barked out a few quick laughs. "No need to worry about Mr. Krum. I'm quite certain he'd be happier if a certain Weasley visited in your stead."

Hermione couldn't help the stab of jealousy. "Ginny?" She tried to ask in a sweet voice.

Sirius chucked. "Wrong Weasley."

Hermione gasped. "Well, I never would have…"

"Um, Hermione, don't take this the wrong way, but there's a certain kind of bird a poofter looks for when he's trying to hide his craving for tube-steak…"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "What exactly do you mean by that, Sirius?" She asked dangerously.

"Oh, just that he's going to go after a girl he knows is safe, that's all."

Hermione missed her mother and father's bemused glances. "And what makes me safe?"

"Well, you see, if a bloke's hiding in the broom closet, he's going to want a girl who won't mistakenly open the door. He's going to pick a nice conservative lass who doesn't snog on the first date. Doesn't want to blow his cover and all."

Hermione seemed mollified, and her parent's beamed with pride. "I for one think it's wonderful that Mr. Krum understood what kind of lady we've raised, dearest." Hermione's mother said. Her father nodded. "Quite right, honey. It's a terrible shame about Viktor dearest, but at least he knew you weren't some wanton strumpet!"

Sirius nodded. "Exactly, he's looking for somebody," Sirius carefully observed Hermione as he said the next words, "who is willfully ignorant and completely uneducated about human sexuality." Jackpot! He recognized the challenge in her eyes. "He certainly wants atimid female who is entirely too conservative to ever aggressively go for what she wants." Inside Sirius danced in wicked glee at the fire behind Hermione's eyes but he made sure his face stayed stern and disciplinarian for her parents. "Aside from that, will you please help you best friend? Harry needs you, more than any other person."

"Let me pack my things."

"Honey, shouldn't we talk about this first?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Mum, haven't you read any of the letters I've sent home. Harry needs me."

Mr. Granger sighed in defeat. "It's no use, dearest. When she makes up her mind it's made up and God and an act of Parliament won't change it."

"I wonder where she got that," Mrs. Granger sighed in defeat. Sirius and Mr. Granger shared a brief man-moment as they both unconsciously glanced her way. Sirius glanced at Mrs. Granger, then Hermione. Mr. Granger nodded. Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow. Sirius nodded. The both shrugged helplessly.

Bonding complete, Sirius set about introducing himself to the Grangers. After successfully fooling the pair into believing he was a responsible and reliable adult, they chatted aimlessly about the difficulties of rearing stubborn children whether muggle or magical. Sirius figured an hour passed when Hermione walked into the kitchen bearing her trunk and cat-carrier. "Can you bring all this in one go?" Hermione asked.

Sirius shook his head. "I'll grab you, then come back for your cat and trunk." Hermione nodded. Sirius took her hand and apparated them both back to the Black Manor. Hermione looked nauseous. "Sorry, apparition takes a bit to get used too. You'll have the chance, Ministry can't detect under aged magic use here. I figure you'll appreciate a bit of extra study time. Harry's in the other room… "

"What's wrong with Harry?"

"Erm, well… I think the Dursley's right buggered him up. I mean right buggered up."

Hermione stared at Sirius with wide concerned eyes. "How?" she asked quietly as if she was afraid of the answer.

"Look, um… we were doing some artifact hunting, cleaning house as it were… and we came across this thing, you know, that did stuff… and um it didn't work like it should on Harry because he'd not done… normal teenage things… "

Hermione gasped. "He's alright, isn't he? He wasn't hurt?"

"Oh, no, not hurt. Um… hopefully he took a couple swigs offa the medicine bottle… it might not look appropriate but it's the only treatment… if he hasn't, he'd better drink at least three shots of Odgen's in an hour… you know how he is about taking care of himself…"

Hermione nodded. "He'll take his medicine. I'll make sure of that."

"Right, good. Look, I'm not exactly McGonagall… if you want some, go ahead. I'm sure you're mature enough to handle it. Anyhow… that's not the worst part."

"What's the worst part?"

"Look, this isn't the kind of thing a bloke likes to tell a girl, okay? I mean, blokes don't talk about it to other blokes either. Well, maybe some blokes, but not this bloke. Harry… err… never played pocket rugby."

"Um… but he plays Quidditch. Isn't that enough sports to be healthy? Admittedly, healthy and Harry playing Quidditch is a bit of an oxymoron but…"

"No! That's not what I meant. Uh… he doesn't polish his broom."

"He most certainly does! I bought him a broom polishing kit for Christmas, and I know for a fact it has been rather well used!" Hermione huffed.

"Argh! He doesn't polish his wand! Stroke his pole! Yank his crack! Raise the Jolly Roger! Play pocket billiards! Shake hands with Percy!"

Hermione's mouth formed into a small o. "Never?"

"Never. Magic dark artifact and all that… it's a fact. Incontrovertible."

Hermione blinked. "Well, that's no good at all."


"Go get my things. I'll see to Harry's well-being." Hermione commanded. Her eyes were fixed solidly on the door leading to Harry's location.

"Right. I'll drop of your trunk and kip out for a while. Um… getting more medicine." He replied, grinning.

"Good." Hermione answered absently.

"Hermione?" Sirius asked.

"Yes?" Hermione responded

"Don't wipe it off on my pillow." He vanished with a crack.