My eyes moved on their own volition, the darkness creeping through the train forced my mind away from the words coming out of my friend's mouth. Four skinless finger bones scraped their way along the frame of the carriage door, tapping as they shifted past and onto the next compartment.

Oh my God.

"What was that?"

I ignored the question and confused looks from my friends as I scurried up and forced the door open, brushing past the dementors. I lurched forward when a trembling chill took me over and ran from my feet to my skull, visions of what occurred 13 years ago flashed through my mind, causing me to slow down slightly as I frantically searched for the compartment he was in.

"Harry!"

I pulled it open, almost becoming blinded by a bright light that emitted from a wand, forcing the dementor back. My vision swam momentarily and I blinked quickly, willing the focus to come back.

"Shit!" I wasn't fast enough.

I fell to my knees in front of him, grabbed hold of his hand in mine and reached upwards, placing the backs of my finger on his forehead and released a breath. Still warm.

"Hannah?"

It took a moment for my brain to process that my name had been said. I looked to my left and stared up into the eyes of a very frightened Ronald Weasley.

"Ron."

His gaze shifted between me and his best friend, before landing back on myself. "Is he gonna be alright?"

"He'll be fine." The sudden change in tone of voice caused me to sit up straight. Was he here the whole time? I readjusted my place on the floor and arched my back, turning slightly so I could look at him.

I paused, taking a moment to process everything that had just happened as the frost on the windows dissipated and the train's temperature returned to normal. Harry stirred slightly under my touch and I breathed inward before looking back at the man.

"Patronus?"

He gave a small nod in my general direction before reaching behind him and for his luggage.

"I'm glad you were here."

He seemed to find what he was looking for as he closed it, and put it back in its place. "So am I."

I felt a small twitch coming from Harry's fingers and he gave an involuntary kick, connecting with my side. I grimaced, trying to ignore the pain that erupted across my ribcage. "Harry? Wake up."

His eyes fluttered open and I released a breath, not realizing how much tension I had been holding. Ron moved over as I got up off of the floor and sat down next to him. "Are you okay?"

He said nothing, the shock of what had just occurred was plainly written on his face.

I saw an arm outstretched across the compartment out of the corner of my eye. "Here, eat this. It will make you feel better."

I reached out on his behalf and grasped the chocolate from the man's hand, my own not neglecting to notice that his was incredibly warm. "Thank you."

I snapped off a piece and handed to Harry. "Eat it, please." He took it from me before I leaned back into the seat and shut my eyes for a moment, gathering myself.

The sound of chewing stopped and he finally spoke. "What happened?"

Ron leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, "I dunno, mate. Those things came and you just kind of passed out."

"What were they?"

I looked around the compartment and my eyes fell on the man, hoping that he would answer so that I wouldn't have to. He didn't.

"They were dementors, Harry." I didn't want to explain any further so I made an excuse about arriving at school in half an hour so it was best that they change into their robes, leaving me and the man who had yet to give me his name, alone.

"So, tell me…"

He moved down his seat until he was sitting directly across from me. His demeanor had changed and he appeared more relaxed, allowing me to release some of the tension I had continued to hold.

"Exactly how much do you know about dementors?"

I smiled and crossed my legs, mindful of making sure my skirt didn't ride up my thigh. "Enough."

He seemed satisfied by my response and leaned back in his seat. "So, Harry, is he…?

"He's my brother. Younger by four years, actually. He's in his third year now and I'm in my seventh."

"And when you saw the dementors you thought to come and find him? That's quite thoughtful of you."

I bit my lip, thinking of how much trouble he'd found himself in since he started going to Hogwarts. "In all honesty he's always in the back of my mind. Until he stops giving me reasons to want to protect him I'll continue to do so."

"I'm sure he's lucky you have you, Miss Potter."

I stopped fidgeting with the hem of my skirt and looked up at him, taking in his features for the first time. I wasn't surprised when I realized I found him attractive. I've always had a thing for older men, I'm not sure why. Although, that's not completely true. I'd been through a lot in a span of 17 years and I tended to find that the boys my age weren't mature enough for me. I'd tried dating on more than one occasion and even managed to land a long term boyfriend during my fifth and half of my sixth year at Hogwarts but that had ended and I found I'd lost interest in most of the boys at school.

"Now that's not fair. You know my name but I don't know yours."

A small laugh escaped his lips and he smiled for the first time. "I apologize. My name's Remus Lupin, but I have to ask that you call me Professor Lupin once we arrive."

Where have I heard that name?

"Professor? Oh, are you the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

He nodded.

"Good, I'm glad. Based on that patronus I saw I'd say you're already better than Professor Lockhart was last year." I leaned forward and spoke in a whisper, "a bit of a dunce, that one."

He laughed louder and I couldn't stop myself from feeling a surge of pride at his response.

"I hope you won't be saying that about me by the end of the year."

The week had gone by slowly and I had found myself racking my brain on more than one occasion, trying to place the name of Remus Lupin. I had yet to have any luck and I was growing more and more frustrated.

"Still nothing?"

I tossed the few pictures that had belonged to my parents down on my bedcovers and rolled onto my back. "No, none."

My bed sank slightly as Ashley sat down beside me, skimming through the pictures I had just discarded.

"Why don't you just go and ask him if it's bothering you so much?"

I ran my hand over my face. "You don't think that would be weird?"

She shrugged, "depends on how you phrase it."

Without giving it to much thought I made my way down to his classroom hoping to find him there. I felt kind of strange being there after class but this was bothering me too much.

The door to the classroom creaked as I opened it, and stepped inside. "Professor Lupin?" He wasn't sitting at his desk near the back of the classroom but I saw light shining beneath his office door at the back. I quickly made my way across the room and up the stairs, feeling slightly hesitant before forcing myself to knock on the door.

It took a moment but I heard footsteps that caused my nerves to pick up. The door was pulled open and I didn't miss the surprised look on his face to see me standing there.

"Hannah? What are you doing here?" He rested his arm against the doorframe and I let my eyes wander over his physique. He was taller than a lot of the boys I knew at school, and a bit more filled out, too. His hair appeared disheveled but in such a way that came off more as endearing than anything else. He was no longer wearing the robe I'd seen on him earlier in the day during my Defense class but had instead replaced it with an incredibly warm and soft looking sweater.

I wanted to laugh at the leather patches covering his elbows, making me think of certain muggle tv shows with incredibly stereotypical-looking professors, but I stopped myself.

"I just have something I was wanting to ask you… can I come in?"

He raised his brows and pushed the door open further, ushering me inside before closing it. I looked around the room before deciding to sit down on a chair against the wall. He stepped away from the door and stopped at his desk, perching himself on the edge of it.

"What is it you'd like to ask me?"

"I'm really hoping this doesn't sound weird to you, but ever since you told me your name I can't get you out of my head."

His expression immediately changed and I felt a sudden need to clarify. Wrong terminology. I pushed a few pieces of my long, black hair behind my ear, "sorry, Professor, I just mean that I feel like I've heard it somewhere before but I haven't been able to place it. You wouldn't be able to explain that, would you?"

He said nothing, only looked down at his shoes and I found my attention was drawn there as well.

"I knew your parents."

Okay, shoes not so interesting anymore. "You what?"

"I went to school with them. Your father was one of my best friends and when your mother came along I grew to like her just as much."

My mind couldn't seem to create any thoughts. I knew I should have a lot of questions to ask him but no words were forming or coming out of my mouth. He appeared to notice but waited for me to say something first.

I shook my head, "oh, I'm sorry, it's just, well, other than Professor Snape I've never met someone other than my aunt that grew up with them, and neither of them are exactly forthcoming. It's, I don't know. I feel like I should be saying something, asking you something."

He smiled at me and leaned back slightly on his hands. "You can ask me anything you'd like."

"I just, so… um, did you meet your first year here? Or did you know them before that?"

"I met James during my first year here and I had seen Lily around, but didn't get to know her very well until her and James started dating."

"Oh… were you very good friends?"

He paused for a moment and I thought that maybe this was something that he didn't want to talk about with me. Or maybe at all. "We were, yes. Your father was one of the only reasons being at school was bearable for me. And your mother, well, she was there for me at a time when no one else was."

I couldn't help but smile at his words. I know everyone grows up thinking that their parents are the best people in the world but those ideas are often shattered once they realize just how human they really are. But being that they died when I was a child that sense had never been broken for me. I'd wondered for a long time whether that was really the case, or would I have thought differently had they still been alive today?

"And I, well, I know I've only known you for about a week, really but… am I like either of them?" As soon as the words left my mouth I felt silly. How was he supposed to make that kind of a comparison now? I'd barely said two words to him since we met on the train. How was he supposed to answer that?

When I looked at him I suddenly felt like I wanted to cry. I knew I was being stupid and that finally having someone to talk to about my parents shouldn't make me so upset. I should feel happy.

"That's a hard question to answer, Hannah."

I ran my fingers through my hair and sat forward in my seat. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to feel like I'm putting pressure on you to give me all the answers I've never had."

His eyes locked with mine and I felt a kindness radiate from him that I don't think I've ever experienced before. He tentatively reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder, rubbing slightly, in an incredibly comforting fashion. "You do look like both of them. Your hair is dark like your father's, albeit much longer than I remember his being."

I laughed as his hand slipped from my shoulder and I didn't like the sudden feeling of loss I felt when his fingers returned to his desk.

"And your eyes are just like your mothers. Incredibly green and bright."

I smiled, "thank you."

"You're welcome. And based on your actions on the train I suspect you're like her as well when it comes to protecting the ones you love."

I felt my cheeks tinge with appreciation at his words. No one had ever said I was anything like her before and I hadn't realized how badly I wanted that to be the case until now.

We fell into silence and I worried that I was overstaying my welcome. I licked my lips and stood from my seat, turning to him. "I really appreciate you being so understanding, Professor. And I hope you don't mind, but can I let Harry know? I think he could benefit a lot from knowing that you're here. I don't remember much from back then and even still, if I close my eyes and think hard enough I can picture their faces. He doesn't have any of that."

An expression of pity washed over his face momentarily before he shook it up and looked backat me. He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, "of course."

I found my way back to my common room and headed up the stairs, immediately finding my bed and closed my eyes. I wanted to save this feeling of finally having a chance at figuring out what kind of people my parents were.

When I fell asleep that night it was the first time that I could ever remember feeling a bit a closure when it came to my parents.