Memory

Challenge Number and Letter: 1B

Word Count: 1176

http:// community. livejournal. com/themomms/

A/N: Second part of the first challenge at MoMMs.

A/N 2: Did you know? 1176 was the year construction began on London Bridge. No lie.

"Quiet! Stay where you are," the professor said, standing and traveling slowly toward the door. But the door to the compartment slid open before Lupin reached it, and Hermione's eyes shot up to the doorway. The great dark figure was tall, imposing, and most definitely terrifying. Though the face was hidden by the cloak it wore, she had no curiosity to how it looked, for she saw the slimy gray hand.

The hand was only apparent for a moment, but she saw it; rotting, scabbed fingers that caused her to shudder in fear and disgust. Ron turned to her with fright-filled questions in his eyes that she knew she could not answer if she were threatened by death. Then, she heard the sucking noise coming from the monstrosity. Her body froze in horror and shock, cold sinking into her skin. It was as if ice water were emitting from her very bones. Her blood seemed to freeze, causing her to shake from the chill.

The thing looked at her and Hermione's mind went into overdrive.

Then, as if she were six again, she saw the face of the man who had pulled the knife on her; stubble so thick it was almost a beard, hair so dark blonde that it was almost red, the crooked nose that told of a past, shifty black eyes, bloodshot. The dread accumulated in her chest with the cold and her heart seemed to stop beating. She couldn't breathe.

"Got anything for me, little one?" the dark man asked her as she walked to school past the alley she never knew reason to fear.

She kept walking. Hermione didn't talk to strangers. That was rule number one.

He grasped her arm roughly, wrenching her towards him. "I asked you a question."

Her voice shook. "I don't talk to strangers."

"Do you have anything to give me?" he asked gruffly.

"I don't talk to stra—"

He pulled out a knife, placing it near her heart which was pounding hard enough that it might break out of her ribcage.

She searched her pockets and gave him her milk money, shoving it towards him with her lunchbox. The exact same lunch her mother had packed her since the first day of school. She could lose her lunchbox. She was relieved she hadn't worn her grandmother's necklace. That wouldn't be explained away easily. Hermione took out the earrings she was wearing for good measure.

He put the knife away and took the offering with a leer, patting her face with his free hand. "Good girl. You must have some brains in your head."

She trembled a little and walked away slowly until she got a few yards away and then began to run. She wouldn't that route again.

She opened her eyes and winced at the memory. She hadn't told anyone about that. Not even her parents. Ron had put an arm around her shoulders, gently squeezing her shoulder and rubbing his hand up and down her arm. His face was inches from hers. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine," she said, acting as if she had not just remembered that ghastly morning. She looked away to assess the room. The hooded creature was gone and Harry was twitching on the floor. Professor Lupin stepped over him and walked toward the hooded thing and pulled out his wand, pointing it at the creature. He wasn't quite menacing when he spoke, but the intention of the wand was clear. "None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go."

It didn't so much as twitch.

Lupin muttered incomprehensibly and a silvery shape emerged from the tip, causing it to turn away and glide away. The room was in silence. Hermione and Ron hurried to kneel at his side as the lamps quavered to life.

"Harry!" Hermione called, shaking him gently. "Harry! Wake up!"

"Come on, mate!" Ron said, shaking him harder.

"Harry!" Neville said from behind Hermione. She did not turn. Neville was fine.

"Harry! Are you alright?" she asked fretfully. He didn't stir and she began slapping his face, gentility gone from her attempts.

"W—What?" Harry rasped, opening his eyes. Ron and Hermione sat back slightly, sighing. He was fine. The two heaved him back onto his seat.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked nervously, eyes shifting.

"Yeah," said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. "What happened? Where's that — that thing? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed," said Ron, more nervously still.

Harry looked around the bright compartment. "But I heard screaming —"

Ron and Hermione shared a look. Had she screamed? She couldn't be sure. She had woken up in tears before to find her parents at her bedside, but that hadn't happened in years.

A loud snap made her jump, having been absorbed in her thoughts. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

Harry took the chocolate but didn't eat it.

"What was that thing?" he asked Lupin.

"A Dementor," said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. Hermione received hers with a smile. Chocolate was always helpful. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…"

He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" said Hermione, watching Harry anxiously. She couldn't imagine what Harry could've remembered.

"I don't get it… what happened?" said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.

"Well — that thing — the Dementor — stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face) — and you — you —" said Hermione. She paused, she really didn't know what was going on with anyone else after that. Ron picked up where she left off.

"I thought you were having a fit or something," said Ron, who still looked scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching —" he paused as well, looking at her searchingly and she filled in the rest. She knew the rest.

"It was horrible," said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?" Hermione nodded her assent, still not turning to the boy. Bone-jarringly cold.

"I felt weird," said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again…"

Hermione looked at him, wondering why he had not remembered something horrible.

Hermione heard a small sob and turned, glimpsing Ginny for the first time, huddled in her corner, looking so pale. She looked as if she were going to vomit. Hermione rose to her feet and went over to put a comforting arm around her.

"It's okay, Ginny," she said comfortingly. "It's gone."

It was gone, surely. But Hermione was sure that the memory evoked would torment her that night.