My Godfather is an Innocent Convict (Rewrite)

The Best Teacher Ever: Part 1

"Hey, Harriet," said Seamus Finnigan, the next day at breakfast, "have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning - they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

"Where?" said Harriet and Pansy quickly. On the other side of the table, Malfoy looked up, listening closely.
He had slowly been starting to place more things into the ordinary.

"Not too far from here," said Seamus, who looked excited. "It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Not too far from here... " Pansy repeated, looking significantly at Harriet.

Harriet tried her best not to shudder. The wanted poster flashed before her eyes.

"Thank you for the heads up, Seamus." she said, as evenly as she could manage, "let me know if there's anything else."

"Will do!" Seamus said grinning.

Harriet continued chewing on her food, only now she wasn't enjoying it. Her mind was elsewhere. If Sirius Black was in Hogsmeade, she was in trouble.

It was a shame really, she had been looking forward to the trip on the weekend. Now it was probably best to stay in the castle. There was a reason Hogwarts had been used a s a fortress on multiple occasions.

Besides, the dementors at the gates didn't seem too friendly either.

Harriet had no idea what to do.

"You don't think that he'll actually kill you, right?" Pansy asked in a whisper.

"I don't know." Harriet shrugged, "He might."

"Maybe you should ask Professor Lupin about him," Draco suggested gently. "He is the other godfather after all."

"You know," Pansy said, "Most people who lose their memories end up dumber."

"Actually," piped in Hermione, "Head Trauma injuries usually affect short term memory loss more than long term memory loss. The affected often finds it difficult to retain information of things they need to do or have done over short periods of time. In other words, while Draco can probably remember his childhood just fine by now, he might not remember what we did last week or what he ate for breakfast this morning."

Pansy stared at her. "Where did you get that from?"

"My parents and I went to visit a friend over the holidays," Hermione shrugged, "She's a surgeon and let me read some of the books she had lying around."

"I swear you're the smartest of us all!" Pansy exclaimed.

If Harriet hadn't known any better, she would have commented on how Hermione was blushing. She chose to slurp her drink very loudly instead.

Professor Lupin wasn't there when they arrived at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking about nothing in particular when he finally entered the room.

Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose. Harriet gripped her wand extra tight remembering the incident. She wondered if taping her wand to her hand was a good idea.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away, then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin-"

If Peeves hadn't been such a good sport to the Weasley twins, Harriet would have set her mind to banishing the poltergeist for the sake of future students sanity.

Peeves usually showed some respect toward the teachers, despite being a pain to almost every other living creature.

Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this. To their surprise, he was still smiling.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."

Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry.

"Polite," Blaise commented.

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely."

He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, "Waddiwasi! "and pointed it at Peeves.

Like a freight train, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril. He whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

"Cool, sir!" said Dean Thomas in amazement.

"Thank you, Dean," said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?"

Harriet wrote down the spell in a notebook she'd gotten from staples. She ran a black market on Muggle school supplies. The ball point pens were popular. Petunia had been all for it and had talked her through most of the business strategy.

Her aunt had been the only reason her uncle had managed to achieve anything in his miserable life.

They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.

"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. He made the face of a long suffering martyr.

As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin."

He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. He left with a flourish.

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe.

As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

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XOXO, Drachma