Chapter 8 - The Dog is On the Case

Sirius Black was bored.

Considering his usual cheerfulness and playful energy, this was more common than one might think lately. Ever since Harry Potter had left Grimmauld Place for the start of his sixth school year, the dark house had become slightly more dismal, and Sirius had had loads less to do. He mostly went around searching for any of his bitch of a mother's old possessions that might be cursed, and wiping them clean. He wondered how Harry was doing in school; it had been a couple weeks since their last correspondence. He still wanted to know if Harry wanted to return to Grimmauld Place with Sirius or hang out at the Burrow to spend time with Ginny.

A wide grin spread across Sirius's face as he made himself some breakfast. Wasn't that something? His godson finally had a date! He'd teased poor Harry endlessly about landing his catch with the youngest Weasley upon first learning of it from a letter. He'd sent a Howler to the kid that, instead of rage, boomed out a mortally embarrassing love poem about how cute Harry thought Ginny was. According to a letter from Ron the next day, Harry hadn't been able to stop blushing the entire day. Sirius still felt like exploding in laughter at the memory.

Poor guy.

Not.

Snorting, Sirius shook his head. He cracked some eggs and broke them apart, dumping the yolks onto a well-oiled pan that sat over a medium-hot fire on a stove. They sizzled and the air filled with the smell of cooking eggs. Sirius's stomach rumbled, and he took a spatula and began shifting them about. There was nothing like a nice plate of scrambled eggs in the morning. Once they were a nice, fluffy yellow, he picked up the pan, carried it over to a plate that he'd sat out waiting on the counter, and dumped the pan's contents onto said plate, next to a piece of toast covered in strawberry jam that already lay on it. He then deposited the greasy pan in the sink and brought his plate of breakfast over to the table, messy with a pile of all sorts of newspapers and old, cursed books that had yet to be freed of their curses, and had just been about to sit down when a slight tapping came to the kitchen window.

Sirius blinked. Now, what could that be? Frowning, he sat the plate down on the a clean spot of table and shuffled over to the window, surprised and delighted to see Hedwig poking at the dirty glass. Her plumage was as soft and white as ever, and she gave him a look like, Let me in this moment, you big, dumb dog, or else I'll poke your damn eyes out. Sirius laughed awkwardly and opened the window for her. She flew in with a ruffle of feathers, and dropped a letter proudly into the last remaining Black's hands.

"Thank you, Hedwig," he told her sincerely, smiling and messing up the feathers on the back of her neck. "You're a real beauty of an owl, you are." She preened at this and leaned into his thick, calloused hand. Chuckling, Sirius let her hop up on his shoulder and then searched the kitchen for a letter opener. At last finding an old, way too fancy silver one, he brought it back to Harry's new letter and stuck it under the flap. He then ripped open the envelope and took out the slip of parchment inside. His eyes flicked over the words written hastily in black ink there, and slowly, his smile turned into a frown.

"What in Merlin's saggy underpants...?" he gasped. His head ached, and with a furious flurry of blinking, the dark-haired ex-convict reread the letter to make sure he hadn't momentarily went insane.

For a moment, Grimmauld Place was completely silent.

Then - -

"KREEEEACHERRR!"

CRACK. With the bang that always accompanied Apparation, Kreacher, the Black family's house elf who was less-than-faithful to Sirius, appeared grumpily in front of him. He looked like a wrinkly old midget drunkard who lived on the streets. His skin was pale and leathery, and his big, floppy ears were a little dirty, no doubt from spending his days creeping around the darkest, messiest corners of Grimmauld Place. He harrumphed and folded his arms across the rags on his body. "What is it, Traitor?" Kreacher grumbled.

"TAKE ME TO HOGWARTS CASTLE," Sirius seethed, a fire burning in his eyes, "NOW."

Kreacher snorted and looked away, refusing to budge an inch.

"KREACHER! NOW!"

With a great, tumultuous sigh, Kreacher hissed nasty things under his breath and gripped Sirius's robe sleeve. Another crack resounded across the kitchen, and Sirius and Kreacher disappeared from it altogether.

Albus Dumbledore liked to say he had a good intuition. It wasn't always spot-on, and sometimes the failures happened to be at extremely inopportune moments, but he still trusted his instincts very well. So when the long-bearded, snowy-haired old man suddenly got a concerned tingle on the back of his neck, he knew that the day was, for whatever reason, about to become a lot more interesting. Even more interesting than it had been since Harry had turned into a girl three nights ago, at any rate.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. And here he'd been hoping that Hogwarts would be peaceful now that the Marauders were gone.

Almost as soon as he'd thought this, the intruder alarms set up in the Headmaster's Office created a commotion, and Dumbledore slumped down with a sigh. "What is it now?" he wondered aloud, shaking his head. He looked down to a map of Hogwarts that lay on his desk in front of him, and saw a red X on Gryffindor tower. Dumbledore frowned and suddenly stiffened. "An intruder in Gryffindor Tower..." he said, concern starting to edge into his voice. "Could this be the same person who cast the curse on Harry...?"

With a sudden tension, Dumbledore reached into his pocket and withdrew the Elder Wand. He pictured Gryffindor Tower, and the next second, it focused into view after he Apparated. Hurriedly, he looked around the red-and-gold themed Common Room, the room he'd teleported to, for any sign of an intruder. Some Gryffindor students were crowded near the east wall around a scraggly-haired figure with a somewhat slouched back who looked... very familiar...

An exhausted groan escaped Dumbledore's lips. "Sirius Black, pray tell, what are you doing here?" he sighed.

Sirius looked up and his eyes widened with fury. "DUMBLEDOOOOOORE!" the last Black roared, voice laced with rage, "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"

"The meaning of what, exactly, Sirius?" The wise old man stared at his old ally and student. "I cannot answer your question unless I know about what you mean to ask."

"What else could I be asking about?" Sirius seethed. The confused Gryffindors, mainly comprised of second and third years by the looks of it, backed away as Sirius charged forward. He stomped up to Dumbledore, face so red he was practically steaming from the ears. "WHY HAS MY GODSON BEEN CURSED TO BE A GIRL?"

Ah. So that was what it was about. He must've heard it... somehow... and come to handle matters personally. Inwardly, Dumbledore groaned. This could only lead to a tiresome mess. "We are not yet sure," the Wizard with the Longest Beard in Britain informed Sirius. "We do not know who has cursed young Harry, although I and the other professors have been attempting to uncover the perpetrator. We believe we are making progress, however it is still uncertain whether the caster was a student in this very castle or a Death Eater who managed to avoid capture all these years."

"Sirius, did he say...?" one of the students whispered in bated breath.

A girl looked up at the rageful Black with wide eyes. "As in, the Sirius Black, you think? The one who captured the Potters' betrayer and singlehandedly caught one fourth of the remaining Death Eaters?"

"He seems a lot... angrier in person," a third hissed.

Sirius turned and pointed furiously at them. "YOU LOT SHUT UP!" he growled. "I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE FURIOUS! MY GODSON JUST BECAME MY GODDAUGHTER, AND NOBODY'S DOING SHIT ABOUT IT!"

Dumbledore groaned. "Language, Sirius."

"Once a teacher, always a teacher," Sirius grumbled back. With a huff, he folded his arms and turned back to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. "Whatever. Where is my godson?"

"Currently, he... she just left for class," Dumbledore said soothingly, "so at the moment, it would be best if he... er, rather, she, were not to be - -"

"WHERE. IS. MY. GODSON."

...Yes, today was shaping to be very interesting indeed. Dumbledore cursed whatever star Harry had been born under. "Care of Magical Creatures," he relented with a weary groan. "Just please try not to embarrass him too much, Sirius?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I'm his godfather, it's my job to embarrass him. But before I do that, I need to make sure he is FUCKING ALRIGHT."

"Language, Siriu... aaaaand he's gone."

The wielder of the elder wand ran a hand through his hair, looking at the wide-eyed second and third years. He sighed yet another sigh. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. "Perhaps I'm getting too old for this job," he mumbled to himself, and tiredly walked out of the Common Room.

Could it be? Is Lemony Yuri Snicket really returning to the best fem Harry story out there? Yes, that's correct. I apologize for making you wonderful people wait so long for this chapter. I was really stuck for ideas all this time, but I think I've finally got some. Don't expect very frequent updates, but definitely expect me to actually be writing this again.

Thank you all for over 500 follows and 420 favorites! That is quite the accomplishment for a story like this. I really appreciate it, guys!

See ya, and Merry Christmas to all!