a/n: long chapter!! super juicy though!! unrelated but I'm so so excited for fourth year you guys have no idea.

Sirius Black knew about that passage underneath the Willow. I'd seen it on the Marauder's Map. There was a chance he could be there now, lying in wait for his next chance to get into Hogwarts.

I couldn't go at night because of the Dementors, not even under the cloak. That means I'd have to wait until the student body was preoccupied during the day — probably during the next Quidditch match. Well, maybe that could change, if I had a way to scare off the Dementors.

"How are your lessons with Lupin going?" I asked Harry at breakfast the following morning.

"Not as good as I hoped," he replied. "You?"

"You mean with Snape?" I decided against telling him what I'd seen. "Alright, I suppose. I don't get so sick anymore. Do you think you could teach me the charm?" I inquired. "I mean, once you've mastered it. It would be a really great thing to know how to do."

Harry shrugged. "I could try. I'm not that great at teaching — why don't you ask Professor Lupin?"

"He already has so much going on," I replied. The reality was that I couldn't speak to him knowing as much as I knew. He also looked tired enough, and every time I thought of him I couldn't help thinking of that terrified expression on his face before he transformed. He must have been only fifteen at the time — how long had he dealt with this? His whole life?

"If you say so," Harry went back to eating his food. "I think the hardest part is finding something happy to think about."

I snorted. "That's terribly depressing."

"You'll understand when you try it." He rolled his eyes. "It's hard. You have to think of something happy enough to conjure a being that embodies the idea of happiness and hope."

I hummed. "I see."

Harry taught me the basic wand motion and the incantation, but he was ultimately right — I was having a really hard time producing anything other than a few silver sparks. I practiced as often as I could until the day of the Ravenclaw-Slytherin match arrived. I was able to slip away before breakfast that morning, or so I'd thought.

"And just where are you going?"

I whipped around in the frosted grass, startled. Malfoy, plan-ruiner extraordinaire, was standing in the doorway and looking very smug in his Quidditch robes. A glance at his hands showed he was wearing the gloves Pansy had made him.

"What are you doing here?" I shooed him with my hand. "Don't you have a match today?"

"I saw you from the window. What are you up to, outside by yourself at seven in the morning?" he tilted his head, catlike.

I blurted the first excuse I could think of. "I'm getting some binoculars from Hagrid so I can watch better."

"You're coming?" Malfoy was surprised. I supposed visiting the willow would have to wait. I wouldn't mind watching a Quidditch match, and if Malfoy was expecting me to be there then surely he'd be suspicious if I wasn't in the stands.

"For educational purposes," I said brightly, "don't flatter yourself, Malfoy."

I swept by him hurriedly, as though in a rush. "Anyway, you and I should get going. Have you even eaten breakfast?"

"No, have you?" He fell into step beside me.

"No, but you're the one flying," I frowned, "if you lose because of an empty stomach I might have to hex you."

"I can assure you, Holmes, we won't lose." Malfoy smirked. "You'll want winning colors then, won't you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Sorry?"

He reached into his bag and produced a scarf — silver and green. "Take this."

I took it, albeit warily. "What do I need your scarf for?"

"To blend in?" He cocked his head at me again. "You're going to end up in an ashtray wearing what you are now."

"I suppose I'd rather not get pummeled on your side of the stands," I replied, eyeing my Gryffindor scarf. "Pansy would be thrilled to see me beaten to a pulp."

"She likes you more than she lets on," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "But alright."

"Thank you," I blinked, looking between Malfoy and his scarf in my hands. He scoffed at me.

"Don't thank me — I'd like it if I still had a partner for poisons next week. You know, just in case Snape needs someone to take a sample—"

I laughed. "Unbelievable."

I did end up breaking away to go to Hagrid's. He was happy to lend me his binoculars for the match, considering all the work Hermione and I have been doing for Buckbeak's trial.

Following some rearranging after breakfast, I deemed myself suitable for a Slytherin and made my way to the stands. I breathed in an uncannily familiar scent from Malfoy's scarf, but I couldn't trace it to anything in my memory. It was a pleasant, clean smell, but I wasn't surprised — Malfoy was rich enough for perfect hygiene.

Once I reached the Slytherin stands, I kept my face out of sight and made my way all of the way to the top so people wouldn't see me. The Slytherins themselves were packed rather tightly together. I saw Malfoy's crowd sitting together with a sign — I reckoned Pansy did it, I could recognize her handwriting.

"What's a Gryffindor like yourself doing on our side of the stands?"

I startled and turned to the girl next to me, who'd somehow crept over without making a sound. She looked like royalty, with long dark hair flowing down her back in neat waves. She wore only her white blouse despite the chilly weather, the first two buttons undone, and was adorned in gold jewelry that complimented her olive skin.

"That obvious, am I?" I chuckled to myself. "Are you going to hex me?"

"Tempting," she said. "But no. You've got some nerve. I'm not brave — or rather, stupid — enough to sneak behind enemy lines," she looked at Malfoy's scarf curiously. "Who's is that, by the way?"

"What's it to you?" I wasn't keen on ruining Malfoy's reputation. "Perhaps I stole it."

"Perhaps," she didn't seem to believe me, but the match had started and we both watched both teams take to the air.

"Who are you, by the way?" I asked.

"Inés." She didn't give me a surname. "And you're Lila Holmes." At my surprise, she smirked. "Don't be so shocked that I recognize you. My whole house was whispering about you being the Heir of Slytherin last year, but I knew that couldn't be true. You're friends with Dean Thomas."

This I was not expecting. Usually people recognized me for being friends with Harry or Hermione.

"I am, yes," I quirked an eyebrow. "Does he know you?"

"Probably not. We take art together but I don't speak to anyone in that class," she tossed her hair. "Or any class for that matter. But he's very talented, you know. He's piqued my interest."

"I see," that made some sense. Electives like art and music had so few people taking them that often years were mixed together. I knew Inés wasn't in our year, as I would have recognized her otherwise. Furthermore, I too had become infatuated with Dean and his talents, so I understood perfectly. "You should talk to him. None of us are as into art as he is — he could use a friend like you."

"Word would spread," she waved a hand. "Our houses don't take kindly to friendships like that."

"You can say that again." I mused as I watched Malfoy flit around in search of the Snitch. He twirled in lazy corkscrews above the rest of the game, probably waiting for the score to be in their favor.

"That Draco Malfoy boy." Inés must have caught me looking. "He's odd. Not really like the rest of us."

"How so?" I asked, having considered Malfoy the poster boy of Slytherin.

"He's up late in the common room, either reading by himself or studying with others." She told me, and at my confusion, she elaborated. "We Slytherins are known for our independence — seeking help from others, even our own housemates, is looked down upon. But he doesn't seem to care. Some of the first years who are brave enough to ask him for help come up to him sometimes, and though he grumbles about it he always ends up helping them in the end." She snorted.

"He helps his friends study, for the most part. Most of us don't really have friends in Slytherin — it's more like our parents work for each other so we have to be nice." Inès made a face. "Both of my best friends are in Ravenclaw, and one of them is up there looking for the Snitch."

"Ravenclaw in the lead, forty to ten," Lee Jordan was saying. I followed Inès' gaze to Cho Chang, Ravenclaw Seeker, who had been tailing Malfoy but had given up and was now searching for the Snitch on her own. Malfoy looked more irritable by the second. The Slytherin Chasers weren't doing too good of a job passing the Quaffle — it kept being intercepted by Ravenclaw's Chasers, who then kept scoring.

"I should try out for the team myself next year," Inés said bluntly. "Our Chasers are incompetent. How hard is it to pass a ball fast enough without interception?"

"Very hard, apparently," I said smugly, "you all aren't used to sharing."

"Very funny," Inés smirked at me. "If you're not careful maybe I'll share a bit of my knowledge of curses with you."

"Ravenclaw in the lead — eighty to ten."

"You're joking," she groaned, deflating.

"Cho has spotted something—" Lee Jordan said with anticipation. Cho had made an impressively sharp right turn (for the broom she had, at least) and was going full speed ahead until—

"Ouch!" Lee Jordan exclaimed, as everyone in the stands let out a sympathetic "oooo." Cho had been hit directly in the face with a Bludger, and with my binoculars I could see one eye had swollen shut and that her nose was bleeding. She wiped the blood off of her face using her sleeve and continued her pursuit of the Snitch, only to be hit by another Bludger in the arm.

"Cho!" Inés gasped. "They're terrible up there — give her a break, damn it."

"Despite this, Ravenclaw scores again! Ninety to ten!" Lee Jordan called. This seemed to be a wake-up call, as Slytherin's Chasers finally started to cooperate. However, Ravenclaw's Chasers worked twofold, and Malfoy looked to have reached his limit.

"I think Malfoy's found it," said Inés suddenly.

I switched my gaze from Cho's injuries and watched carefully as Malfoy's head turned sharply to the left. He dove, going faster and faster, reaching his hand out—

"Draco Malfoy has caught the Snitch!" Lee Jordan announced. "Slytherin wins, albeit narrowly, one-hundred-and-sixty to ninety points!"

Inés and the rest of the Slytherins cheered and hollered. I wasn't sure if Malfoy could see me, but he was looking in my direction. I raised my hands in a much more subtle applause, hoping he could see.

"I'm going to go check on Cho," Inés declared, watching her drifting back to the ground to be placed into a stretcher. "Hopefully she'll be alright."

February came fast. Surprisingly, I was making more progress on the Patronus Charm than I was on Occlumency, much to Harry's chagrin. Between this, Buckbeak's trial, and trying to mediate between Ron, Harry, and Hermione, I kept myself busy enough that exploring the hidden passage under the Whomping Willow was the least of my concerns.

Harry had ended up getting his Firebolt back, leading to a short reprieve, but then Scabbers had disappeared, leaving blood on the sheets, and the cat hairs Ron found by the bed were too incriminating to ignore.

Now Harry and I were in a bit of a sticky situation. Hermione and Ron had more tension than ever before, and neither Harry nor I knew what to do about it. It wasn't pleasant for anybody. The rest of the Gryffindors were wary whenever both of them were in the same room though, most of the time, this didn't last long unless it was in class.

Hermione and I were still trying to help Hagrid out with his case, but didn't have much luck. Not to mention my own private investigation would soon come to fruition.

The day of the match with Ravenclaw, I managed to slip away while everyone was oohing and ahing at Harry's new Firebolt. I was almost to the tree when I saw three cloaked figures emerge from inside the castle. I might have thought they were Dementors, if I didn't hear Malfoy's angry murmuring.

"Potter doesn't get to humiliate me like that and get away with it!" The three of them stopped in their tracks when they saw me. Malfoy looked particularly guilty.

"What are you doing?" I crossed my arms and cocked my head. "You lot look ridiculous."

"Shouldn't you be at the match?" Malfoy hissed.

"Shouldn't you be at the match?" I countered.

Malfoy squinted. "What are you up to?"

"What are you up to?"

"You can't just ask my questions back at me and change the emphasis!" Malfoy scoffed. He brushed past me, beckoning Crabbe and Goyle to follow. "You're ridiculous. Don't rat on me and I won't rat on you, whatever you're up to."

"It's a deal!" I called back, amused.

Already delayed, I hurried toward the tree, letting Brutus into the grass. I was surprised at the amount of force he had as he pressed into the knot. I turned over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't being watched before I slipped inside, Brutus slithering in after me.

The deja vu was tremendous as I walked through the same passageway as Snape had. I made it into a room that had definitely seen better days — the furniture was ripped and torn and the wallpaper was peeling. Sounds of people milling about were muffled outside. I surmised we were all the way in Hogsmeade, in the Shrieking Shack.

I jolted at the sudden sound of scrambling upstairs. I looked at Brutus on my shoulder.

"If I'm in trouble, go get help," I instructed.

"Bold of you to assume I'll get very far," he hissed back.

The stairs creaked painfully beneath my feet, and as I reached the landing I exhaled in relief when I saw I had nothing to worry about at all. A big, black sheepdog laid on the torn up mattress, panting with its tongue out. It barked at the sight of me, but stayed put.

"How'd you get in here?" I approached it, holding my hand out cautiously. The dog seemed friendly enough, and let me scratch it behind the ear.

But Brutus was hissing and practically spitting in my ear.

"I think you found who you're looking for."

I frowned. "This is just a dog. It couldn't possibly be—"

But as soon as the Parseltongue left my lips, the dog started to growl. I backed up as though to run, but it pounced and knocked me to the floor. At the same time, it turned into a fully grown and rather smelly man.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you." Sirius Black held both of my arms to the floor.

Well, this was certainly a predicament. Brutus started to slither away, but Black lifted a hand to grab him, and in a moment of hasty decision I used his lack of balance to flip the tables, socking him in the jaw and then kneeing him in the stomach.

I was able to escape his grasp long enough to scuttle away and stand, pulling out my wand and aiming it at his face.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you!" I spat back, my heart hammering. I'm on a roll with the emphasis today. Brutus slithered to encircle my ankle, hissing nastily at the other man. He laughed coldly, just like he had in Snape's memory.

"I suppose I don't really have one. But you wouldn't, right?" Black sat back on his heels, then swung his legs around to cross them in front of him. "You're only what — thirteen? Fourteen? You're just a kid, and if those colors tell me anything I reckon you'll want to hear me out before you do anything rash."

"I'm willing," I said slowly. "But I won't let my guard down around someone who escaped from Azkaban. As a dog, I'd assume. I didn't think you'd be an Animagus." I suddenly remembered the flash of black I'd seen behind me. "That was you, then. At Harry's match."

"Merlin, I feel so terrible about that." Much to my surprise, his composure shrank, and his expression grew stormy and forlorn. "I just wanted to watch Harry fly. I reckoned he'd be just as good as James, and he was. But the Dementors—"

"He's alright." I assured him, unsure why I said so. He seemed quite happy to hear this, perking up. I wouldn't let this get off track, though. I needed answers. "Halloween. How'd you get into the castle?" My brow furrowed. "Has Lupin-"

Black didn't even let me finish. He sat up straighter, eyes suddenly alert. "Remus? Remus Lupin? He's here?"

He suddenly looked so much more human, almost shy. A shell of the boy I remembered from my visions, but still that boy nonetheless. He seemed hopeful.

"He's here," I confirmed, wanting to smile but suppressing it. "He's our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He's been given Wolfsbane to help with his transformations."

Black's brow furrowed. "You know?"

"I'm not supposed to, no." I shook my head. "But Snape-"

"Snivellus is here too?!" Black scowled. "Well this is just a lovely little reunion, isn't it?"

"He wouldn't know if it wasn't for you," I said sharply, and Black almost seemed to shrink in on himself.

"Not my proudest moment." Black admitted, but then he looked back up at me. "How do you know about that?"

"I've seen into his memory. I'm Emilie's daughter." I explained, realizing this should have come much sooner, since Black's eyes lit up once again. "Lila. My name's Lila."

Black was quiet for a few minutes, staring at me with a sort of fascination. But there was pain in his eyes too, a terrible sadness like I'd seen when James mentioned Remus after the incident.

"I should have known." He murmured. "You've got her nerve, that's for sure." He grinned when he said it, so I took it as a compliment. He cleared his throat. "Now that we've established I'm not your enemy, and you're not mine, would you hear me out? I know that — well, I can imagine it's not easy to believe me with all I've done." He shook his head. "Feel free to keep the wand out, but I'm unarmed. Don't even have one."

I kept my wand out, but held it in my hand in my lap as I sat across from him on the floor. I looked at him expectantly as Brutus slithered back into my hair.

"I was your mum's Secret-Keeper." Black explained. "She used the same charm as Lily and James did with Pete." His expression hardened. "Except I held my word the entire time, even when I found out she died. It's a pity, really. Terrible blood curse."

"With Pete?" My head spun. "Blood curse?"

"Voldemort cursed your grandmother's bloodline in hopes that you wouldn't stand in the way of his rise to power." Black informed me. "When Voldemort has ceased to exist, so will the curse." His eyes grew murderous. "As for Pete—"

"Pete, as in Peter Pettigrew?" I asked. "The man you supposedly killed, after supposedly selling out the Potters to Voldemort?"

"I'd never sell out James and Lily," he hissed. "I thought I would be too obvious, so at the last second, we switched the Secret-Keeper to Pete. After all, Pete had been nothing but loyal, right? Had been James' friend ever since they were babies, right? Didn't have a mean bone in his body." Sirius shook in rage with every sentence before breaking into a cold, barking laugh. "How he fooled us all. That conniving, traitorous rat."

"He's an Animagus too," I understood now. "You all were. Except Remus. You became Animagi to help Remus."

"Of course we did," Sirius almost seemed to boast. "It was my idea. When I heard animals had the capability to calm a werewolf I knew it just had to be done. You should've seen him, coming back once a month with