Harry froze.

Madam Pomfrey hovered for a second, soft eyes flicking over him. Her words had been harsh but it was clear in the way her fingers fluttered and her wand spun around her hands that she hadn't put her heart into them. And indeed, who would?

There he was, the supposed-to-be savior of the world, and he had a dementor hand that couldn't be fixed and he couldn't cast magic with. An ugly black hand that looked it had gone through a fire and hadn't survived. An ugly hand that moved slower than he wanted it to. An ugly hand that would never cast a spell.

Distantly, he could hear a soft rumble from new students shuffling into the Great Hall. They seemed quieter, but the roar from the other students made up for it. He was missing the feast and the sorting, sitting in the Hospital Wing while his friends ate happily and talked with others.

His somewhat joyous mood plummeted.

Madam Pomfrey appeared, though he hadn't noticed her leaving. She had another stick of chocolate in her hand, this one almost larger than the first.

"Eat up," she said sharply, then continued in softer tones. "I won't have you becoming all depressed and then realizing it was your hand all along."

He glanced up at her, already reaching out for the chocolate. "What do you mean?"

She pursed her lips. "Well, as best I can assume, your hand will be volatile and may react strangely over the next couple of days. It may cause you to feel sad for no apparent reason for as long as a week, but then again, it may end tomorrow. There aren't any records of a dementor getting close enough to grab someone and then being chased off. Actually, there aren't any records of dementors grabbing anyone. This one must have been very determined."

"The new defence professor must be very strong, then."

She tilted her head to one side, eyes staring off. "Well, I suppose you're right. Professor Lupin does have much experience with dark creatures, so it is quite fair to say he may be able to teach everyone to defend themselves from the dementors."

"They shouldn't ever attack us again. I hope they ran off to the farthest corner of the planet," He asked bitterly, taking another bite of chocolate. The pit in his stomach had come back, though weaker than before. With every bite of chocolate, it disappeared more and more before popping out of existence, and a bubbling spring of warmth filled its place. "Why were they even attacking the train in the first place? And why aren't there protections against that sort of thing?"

Madam Pomfrey sniffed. "Well, the Minister of Magic decided that Hogwarts would be safer with dark creatures floating everyone and sucking away the happiness in the minute chance that Sirius Black decides to attack the building that holds Albus Dumbledore."

Harry blinked up at her.

She looked back, radiating disapproval that wasn't directed at him.

"Wait, what? The Minister of Magic? Fudge? Fudge agreed to put dementors all over the train and have them attack us?"

"Not just over the train, Mr. Potter. Over the entire school."

He sucked in a long, deep breath. "That's bad. That's really bad. There are OWLs and NEWTs coming up for some people and homework is really stressful and we already suffer with Snape!"

"Professor Snape, my boy," a warm voice came from behind them. Harry spun and was greeted with the image of the tall wizard that ruled over the school. His beard was still white and nearly brushing the floor, and his hair was just as long. His blue eyes twinkled happily over his half-moon glasses, and his robes were a sort of light red mixed with yellow. He was everything that Harry remembered him to be.

"Hullo, Professor Dumbledore," he said. The feast must have just ended, and now he could hear hundreds of footsteps bouncing around the stone walls. Everything echoed here in Hogwarts.

The man smiled back at him. "Hello, Harry. How was your summer?"

He frowned. "Just as bad as ever, sir. But what do I do with this-" he shook his hand fruitlessly, watching the pockmarked surface thump against the blankets. It stood out sharply from the crisp white covers.

Dumbledore hummed quietly, reaching up. His wand was in his hand, and he gently touched it with the tip. Nothing happened. He didn't have to say a word and then his wand flashed a gentle yellow, the magic settling into his skin. Harry didn't feel anything other than a light tickle, and after that, nothing happened.

There was a soft sigh. "I'm very sorry, my boy. There's simply nothing that could be done."

Harry's hope dropped to his knees. "Are you very sure, sir? There's nothing?"

A nod. "A dementor's magic is a very fickle and curious thing, Harry. We do not know how it works precisely, and while there is nothing that healing spells could do, that doesn't mean that it won't just heal on its own."

He perked up, eyes wide. "Really?"

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "Dementor magic is strange, but the power of determination is even more powerful. Anything is possible with magic, Harry."

Harry blushed. "Oh, of course. I just wish it hadn't happened."

Dumbledore sighed unhappily. "I know just how you feel on this matter. I dearly wish that Cornelius could have seen my side of the issue, but he decided that dementors would be the safest idea for our school."

He opened his mouth to reply before a thought drifted over his head. Harry frowned, thinking. "But sir, surely you had to agree, right? I mean, this is your school."

Dumbledore laughed. "Ah, how I wish! I am in charge of the school, but Cornelius had quite browbeaten me into submission in order to do his work. He has never quite trusted me after the incident of last year, much to my sadness."

Harry nodded, but he was still confused. What could browbeat Albus Dumbledore into letting dangerous dark creatures surround his school? And why would he ever agree to Fudge's plan?

But still, he just grinned and settled back on his bed. Dumbledore fixed his glasses slightly, turning to fully face him. "You'll be out of here and back with your friends in no time, and I'm sure you will have many an adventure with them. But there is just one more thing you have to be aware of."

Harry turned to him, head cocked. "What is that? Should I not go near dementors?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, I would have hoped that was obvious! But no, something else. I'm afraid you may have to hide your hand. This, however small, is a weakness that I don't want any servants of Voldemort finding out."

He gaped at the professor.

"Just a simple glamour every morning, my boy. Nothing much at all. It is all for your safety, I'm sure you understand."

Harry ignored the last sentence and immediately broke into an argument. "Why should I have to hide it? Everyone on the train saw me get attacked, it's better to prepare for Voldemort finding out than try and hide it!"

"Oh, don't exaggerate. Perhaps a few, but I'm sure they won't say anything. Your friends would never tell anyone, and I trust Professor Lupin wholeheartedly."

"But it's not that big of a deal! My hand just looks a bit weird and while it might be a bit difficult to cook things, it won't affect me that much. I'll be fine. Voldemort can't use that against me."

Dumbledore didn't say anything, and Harry pressed farther. "If anything does happen to me in a battle, I can still fight back! This isn't any sort of weakness. I don't need to hide it, sir, just let me have it normal."

There was a long pause, and then Dumbledore let out a deep, rumbling sigh. "I'm sorry you feel that way Harry, but I'm afraid my decision is final. It's just a simple glamour in the morning, and then you are free to be as normal as you wish."

Harry stared at him, a million emotions burning inside his chest. Dumbledore stared back, firmness in his eyes.

And then Harry stood up and took off like a shot toward the doors.

He was out in a second, barreling through them with his shoulder and letting them clap shut behind him. The stone corridors towered above him but he ran on, moving faster and fast with each passing second. His robes twirled around him, arms pumping, breath sharp in his throat.

Where was he going?

There were voices from his left so he took a right, heading down an enormous hallway he barely recognized. And then there they were, the enormous front doors that had to be operated with magic. He took off past them, sure of where he was.

Three more rights and up a flight of stairs had him at the courtyard door, and he booked it outside.

It was cold but nothing like the train had been, a pleasant nip that died with the heat of his running. The sky still glimmered with the fading echoes of sunlight and light from the windows of Hogwarts spilled over the grass.

He ran on, eyes fixed on the shadowy towers of the Forbidden Forest. There, he could hide, if only for a short while. He could tuck himself into the corner of a tree trunk on the edge and just sit for an hour or so, trudging back inside once he got too cold.

Reaching the edge, he darted around the side of the first tree and came face to face with a girl.

It was a pretty girl, that he could recognize in the first thirty seconds of them just staring at each other. She was about his height - though that wasn't saying much - maybe a bit shorter. Pale, silvery blonde hair that was eerily close to Malfoy's color spilled down the back of her hair like a waterfall made of starlight, glimmering in the air. He probably would have appreciated it more if it didn't remind him of his rival. Her eyes were a darker shade, more silver than blond. She wasn't as pale as Malfoy, tan lines around places that gloves and necklaces would go. Her face was one of absolute serenity and curiosity at the same time.

He sucked in a shallow breath and stepped backward, glancing around. There was no one else there, just the endless wall of the forest he was in. He looked back at her.

Hogwarts robes edged in dark blue. Ravenclaw. She had no shoes.

"Malfoy?" He said softly.

And the girl laughed loudly, eyes sparking with mirth. "No, I'm afraid not." Her voice was strong yet fluttery, solid yet like a cloud. "Just Luna Lovegood. Or Loony, if you prefer."

"No, I don't. What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask the same, Harry Potter."

She knew his name. Okay. Everyone did. "You first."

"Well, they never serve pudding at the first feast. That's all I really eat in the Great Hall, as the house elves in the kitchen have much nicer foods. Nargles showed me them and I've gone there ever since."

"But why aren't you inside?" He pressed.

"It's much nicer out here, too."

He nearly opened his mouth to argue that she should be in her dorm before realizing that he probably shouldn't argue that someone should be inside while he was also outside. There wasn't any way he could win as a hypocrite.

"Why are you outside, Harry Potter?"

Dumbledore said to hide it. It was for his own good. Voldemort could use it against him.

So he pulled his hand around from where it was tucked in his pocket and showed it to her.

Luna's lips pursed as she stared it over, eyes wide. A glance flicked up to him. "May I?"

He offered it to her.

She pressed lightly on his fingers, on the burn marks, on the place where it ended. Her hand danced over the blackness of his own and her eyes were narrowed with thought as she stared at it all.

"That's very dark magic," she finally said, pulling back.

Harry slid his hand back down to his side. "Yeah," he answered lamely. "A dementor did it."

She perked back up. "That's interesting. So you came outside? Why not to the Hospital Wing?"

"Madam Pomfrey couldn't heal it."

Luna didn't press anymore on the subject, and he could have kissed her for that relief. It was hard enough to think about it, let alone explain it to someone he had never met before in his life. It would be hard to talk about it to Hermione, who had been there!

And then they are back to silence, one that was both awkward and comfortable. Harry sunk down to sit with his back against the trunk. The bark was scratchy but his robes were too thick, and he sighed and let his head fall back against the wood. Luna gently sat next to him, eyes closed.

Nothing happens, just a wind fluttering over them.

But the wind doesn't go away, and then something happened.

A flash of light, a pale white, darted in front of them. Harry jolted. Luna's eyes snapped open.

It happened again, another burning streak of light that disappeared in a second. They both shoot to their feet, eyes wide and staring.

"Know what it is?" He murmured to her.

"No idea." The gentle, dreaming quality had dropped from her voice.

The next time the light came, it isn't from in front of them. It was farther away, a speck behind another tree. They barely have to look at each other before running off after it.

It flashed again, this time much farther away from them. They sprinted after it, barely aware of the forest disappearing behind them, of the light from outside growing dim, of the turns they're making and not keeping track of. There was some sort of fire in their eyes that isn't their own, driving them to keep moving, chasing, running.

They'd been running for a while when Luna suddenly threw out her arm to catch Harry's chest, stopping them both. Their running catches up with them and they started panting, chests heaving and bent double. It is nearly completely dark, moonlight filtering through the branches.

"What- what the-" Harry gasped, wildly looking around. There was nothing here he recognized, no path he could remember taking.

Luna pressed a finger to her lips, eyes furiously wide. She points down to a circle of flowers, pale pinks and reds, right at their toes. Another second and they would have stepped inside.

"What's that?" He murmured to her, an uneasy feeling sliding over them. There was something strong in the air, something heavy and pressing.

"Faery ring. We nearly stepped in." Luna carefully took several steps back, Harry mirroring her. He doesn't know that much about the magical creatures in this world, but even he remembered the stories Dudley got read to him every night. Never, ever step in a faery ring. They take another step backward.

Metal touched their backs.

Harry jumped but Luna grabbed his arm, staring at him with wide eyes. She doesn't move and he copies her, keeping his face pointed straight forward.

The metal was thin but sharp, right in the small of their backs. Harry didn't hear anyone approaching. Who is it?

They still don't move, and all that there was was a gentle breeze floating through the forest. It brushed against them, almost mocking. There was a gentle scent of flowers and fire on it, too very different smells.

And then finally, there was a voice.

"Turn around." It was gruff and powerful, coming from somewhere above their heads. Harry and Luna carefully let go of each other, turn around, and then grappled to hold hands again. They were nearly cutting off each other's circulations.

He came face to face with fur, a gentle brown dappled with white. Carefully, he looked up, meeting a pair of strikingly blue eyes. Human eyes. A human body, with pale blonde-white hair and corded muscles, attached to the bottom half of a horse. A centaur.

A centaur he recognizes.

"Firenze?" He asked quietly, still holding onto Luna's hand. She was facing a pitch black stallion with a wild-eyed man and didn't turn to face him.

The centaur snorted and scraped the ground, still holding his bow with deadly precision. His arrow was tipped with metal and is very, very sharp.

"Firenze?" He tried again.

"Walk backward."

Luna nearly squeezed his hand off. Behind them was the faery ring, the one that Luna said they could never go in.

The two centaurs brandished their bows, drawing the string a little bit farther back. And slowly, the pair of them started walking backward.

One foot over the other, determinedly staring at anything but the centaurs or the ground they were walking over. Until Firenze smiled grimly and lowered his bow. The other centaur did the same.

The flowers gleamed below them, the pinks and reds lighting up with moonlight that danced through the trees to land on them. They've stepped inside a faery ring.

Harry desperately tried to remember what happened in those faery tales, the ones he never had read to him. But he can't remember anything past the number one rule - don't step in a faery ring.

The centaurs trotted a little forward, plucking arrows from bows and stringing them back into quivers. They seem much more relaxed, tails flicking and arms falling to sides. It was not a good sign.

Harry and Luna were not moving, were not blinking, were not breathing. They had no idea what the centaurs wanted from them. Luna was nearly squeezing his hand off and he was doing the same to her.

And then Firenze stepped forward again, stepping into the faery ring without so much as a glance down. "Turn around, and start walking."

They had no choice but to obey.

In front of them was a wall of branches that curled around each other in a sort of barrier. The centaurs make no movement to help them so Harry reached forward and pushed on the branches.

They gave way before him, showing a glimmer of light.

Luna grabbed his hand tighter and started walking forward. He didn't try to stop her, following as bravely as he could through the door of trees.

It was much thicker than he expected, as they walked through what seemed like a mile of everlasting leaves and branches that never touched them yet seemed to drown them in their number. But before long, they pushed all of the way through and ended up in a clearing.

The clearing was large, but not overly so. Far enough that he could see details on the trees of the other side, and far enough across that the trees couldn't cover the top and instead let the moonlight shine down, coating everything in a soft silver hue. The ground was covered in the softest of clovers, stopped only by flowers or a gentle stream that flowed over pebbles. There was a tree in the middle with an inner space carved out, like a throne.

And everywhere, there were creatures.

Centaurs lined the walls, standing powerfully next to trees with bows slung over their shoulders and arms flexed. They were every shape and color and gender, seemingly hundreds despite the small perimeter. They didn't come farther in.

Dotted around the clearing were tall women with hair and skin that glimmered in the richest of woodland hues. Amber, brown, mahogany, honey, russet - every color on a tree was present. They were garbed in strange materials, dresses and cloaks the same color as grasses.

The stream and air were filled with tiny creatures that glowed with an inner light. The stream was filled with dark blue ones that switched between forms as easily as blinking, going from falling rain to clouds to tiny people that swam with the currents. More filled the air, the same pale white as the light that had attracted them to the faery ring.

More and more strange creatures were around, all of them looking straight at the pair of them. But the strangest of all was the one sitting in the alcove of the tree in the middle.

She was tall and strikingly beautiful, with dark brown skin and hair the same color. Every few inches, there were dots of white along her arms and face, shaped somewhat like flowers, but they were actually in her skin, more like tattoos. Her eyes were large and a deep brown, framed by long lashes. In her hair there stood a crown of white flowers, the same shape and color of those marks on her skin.

Luna gasped lightly, color draining from her face. She looked like she was about to faint, breath hissing from her teeth.

"The Elder Dryad," she murmured.


Hey-o!

Bit more action this time, and my title actually corresponds to my story! Aren't you guys proud of me?

Anyway - please enjoy this chapter, and have a very fun time guessing what is going to happen next!

Have at it!

Anyway! Please read and review!

Frost OUT!