Death is but the Next Great Adventure

Sugar, Spice, & Everything Not-So-Nice

In the last chapter: Harry's year starts out busier than ever and he finds himself trying to juggle all of his duties at once. After a horrible prank played on Luna, Harry steps in and lays down the law by warning the other Ravenclaws that there would be consequences to bullying, especially within their own house. Harry meets Buckbeak. Bellatrix is spotted in London. Harry takes up trying to learn the Patronus charm. Harry has his first encounter with a Boggart and things go from bad to worse when Anthony has a rather awful experience then Harry's Boggart turns out to be highly personal and he is temporarily enraged at the whole mess.

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Hallowe'en draped itself over the giddy castle and for all else, was a time of celebration and festivity, all except for Harry Potter. It wasn't necessarily the anniversary of his parent's demise that had gotten to him. No, it was the cold claws of apprehension that dug into his gut at knowing his track record with that date, mixed with the magical and unpredictable school was not so great. The troll his first year, Ginny his second. It spelled trouble for his third.

As loathsome as he was to admit it, Harry was surprisingly superstitious for a Ravenclaw. Be it the years before Hogwarts when his life was filled with dangerous and suspiciously coincidental 'accidents' or his recent dabbling in the necromantic arts, he had plenty of reason for caution. Even though Harry had yet to learn the magic behind necromancy, his frequent contact with Death was in itself a form of necromancy of the purest standard. The forbidden branch of magic was very old—arguably the oldest—and not nearly as limited in its rules and confines as modern magic was, which made it far more unpredictable and a field in which superstition was encouraged—for the safety of the caster if nothing else.

It was for that low current of embarrassing superstition that Harry had decided to opt out of the first Hogsmead trip of the year—much to his friend's disappointment—and instead spend the day with his guardian. Remus had more than welcomed the company, but for different reasons. It didn't need to be specified which, because the somber mood he'd found the man in was all the indicator Harry needed. Remus was thinking about the two close friends he'd lost twelve years ago. Harry didn't blame him, if he had any memories of his parents, he would probably be in the same state.

So, instead of venturing out of the castle with more than half of the student populace on that bitter cold and windy day, the pair stayed holed up in Remus's personal quarters. Harry had given the man a funny look when he quickly changed into worn pajamas, slippers, and a bath robe with a steaming cup of something frothy and faintly spice-scented. Yet, not long after, Harry found himself in a similar state; wearing Remus' warm shrunken plaid pajamas and slippers with his own warm drink as they watched a few muggle films and at one point had an open floo call with Sirius so that the other guardian could be partly included in the laid-back activities.

Harry often found himself smiling unknowingly and thanking the Fates that they had brought together the small, yet no less real family after a decade of separation and loss.

Harry would take it to his grave, but every time Remus wandered out to get something or go to the bathroom, Harry would secretly pull the collar of his borrowed shirt up to his nose and breathe in the familiar scent of his guardian. He never knew how comforting a smell could be until he began finding people important enough to cherish something so small about them as their scent. Forcing the pathways to form in his brain, Harry committed the scent to memory and to never let it fade from his depraved brain. Smell was the strongest and longest lasting sensory stimulus for memory, and Harry never wanted to forget the precious moments he spent with his guardians.

...

A few weeks later was the first quidditch match of the year, and the day before just so happened to be the full moon. With Remus' usual replacement for the full moon sick, they were stuck with the brooding professor Snape as their instructor. Severus Snape had been entirely too obvious when he deliberately skipped entire chapters in the book to focus on werewolves. Those who remembered the connection between the current topic and Harry's guardian looked highly uncomfortable on his behalf, while everyone else looked confused.