The Dementor's Kiss/ Hermione's Secret Final Battle
"One wrong move, Peter," said Lupin threateningly ahead. His wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew's chest.
Silently they tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of Black, his chin bumping on his chest. And then -
A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.
Snape collided with Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron, who had stopped abruptly.
Black froze. He flung out one arm to make Harry and Hermione stop.
Harry could see Lupin's silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.
"Oh, my —" Hermione gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!"
"Run," Black whispered. "Run. Now."
But Harry couldn't run. Ron was chained to Pettigrew and Lupin. He leapt forward but Black caught him around the chest and threw him back.
"Leave it to me — RUN!"
There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks's hair was on end again; he was backing away —
As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from Harry's side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other.
Harry stood, transfixed by the sight, too intent upon the battle to notice anything else. It was Hermione's scream that alerted him — Pettigrew had dived for Lupin's dropped wand. Ron, unsteady on his bandaged leg, fell. There was a bang, a burst of light — and Ron lay motionless on the ground.
Another bang — Crookshanks flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled, pointing his own wand at Pettigrew; Lupin's wand flew high into the air and out of sight. "Stay where you are!" Harry shouted, running forward.
Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. Harry saw his bald tail whip through the manacle on Ron's outstretched arm and heard a scurrying through the grass.
There was a howl and a rumbling growl; Harry turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the forest —
"Sirius, he's gone, Pettigrew transformed!" Harry yelled.
Black was bleeding; there were gashes across his muzzle and back, but at Harry's words he scrambled up again, and in an instant, the sound of his paws faded to silence as he pounded away across the grounds.
Harry and Hermione dashed over to Ron.
"What did he do to him?" Hermione whispered. Ron's eyes were only half-closed, his mouth hung open; he was definitely alive, they could hear him breathing, but he didn't seem to recognize them.
"I don't know…"
Harry looked desperately around. Black and Lupin both gone… they had no one but Snape for company, still hanging, unconscious, in midair.
"We'd better get them up to the castle and tell someone," said Harry, pushing his hair out of his eyes, trying to think straight. "Come —"
But then, from beyond the range of their vision, they heard a yelping, a whining: a dog in pain…
"Sirius," Harry muttered, staring into the darkness.
He had a moment's indecision, but there was nothing they could do for Ron at the moment, and by the sound of it, Black was in trouble —
Harry set off at a run, Hermione right behind him. The yelping seemed to be coming from the ground near the edge of the lake. They pelted toward it, and Harry, running flat out, felt the cold without realizing what it must mean -
The yelping stopped abruptly. As they reached the lakeshore, they saw why — Sirius had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head.
"Nooo," he moaned. "Nooo… please…"
And then Harry saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. He spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them…
"Hermione, think of something happy!" Harry yelled, raising his wand, blinking furiously to try and clear his vision, shaking his head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it —
I'm going to live with my godfather. I'm leaving the Dursleys.
He forced himself to think of Black, and only Black, and began to chant: "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"
Black gave a shudder, rolled over, and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.
He'll be all right. I'm going to go and live with him.
"Expecto patronum! Hermione, help me! Expecto patronum!"
"Expecto —" Hermione whispered, "expecto — expecto —"
But she couldn't do it.
The Dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around Harry and Hermione, and were getting closer…
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry yelled, trying to blot the screaming from his ears. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A thin wisp of silver escaped his wand and hovered like mist before him. At the same moment, Harry felt Hermione collapse next to him. He was alone… completely alone…
"Expecto — expecto patronum —"
Harry felt his knees hit the cold grass. Fog was clouding his eyes. With a huge effort, he fought to remember — Sirius was innocent — innocent — We'll be okay — I'm going to live with him —
"Expecto patronum!" he gasped.
By the feeble light of his formless Patronus, he saw a Dementor halt, very close to him. It couldn't walk through the cloud of silver mist Harry had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronus aside.
"No — no —" Harry gasped. "He's innocent… expecto expecto patronum —"
He could feet them watching him, hear their rattling breath like an evil wind around him. The nearest Dementor seemed to be considering him. Then it raised both its rotting hands — and lowered its hood.
Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, grey scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth… a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death rattle.
A paralyzing terror filled Harry so that he couldn't move or speak. His Patronus flickered and died.
White fog was blinding him. He had to fight… expecto patronum… he couldn't see… and in the distance, he heard the familiar screaming… expecto patronum… he groped in the mist for Sirius, and found his arm… they weren't going to take him…
But a pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly attached themselves around Harry's neck. They were forcing his face upward… He could feel its breath… It was going to get rid of him first… He could feel its putrid breath… His mother was screaming in his ears… She was going to be the last thing he ever heard —
And then, through the fog that was drowning him, he thought he saw a silvery light growing brighter and brighter… He felt himself fall forward onto the grass… Facedown, too weak to move, sick and shaking, Harry opened his eyes. The Dementor must have released him. The blinding light was illuminating the grass around him… The screaming had stopped, the cold was ebbing away…
Something was driving the Dementors back… It was circling around him and Black and Hermione… They were leaving…
The air was warm again…
For a fraction of a second he stood, irresolute, in front of Hagrid's door. You must not be seen. But he didn't want to be seen. He wanted to do the seeing… He had to know…
And there were the Dementors. They were emerging out of the darkness from every direction, gliding around the edges of the lake… They were moving away from where Harry stood, to the opposite bank… He wouldn't have to get near them…
Harry began to run. He had no thought in his head except his father… If it was him… if it really was him… he had to know, had to find out…
The lake was coming nearer and nearer, but there was no sign of anybody. On the opposite bank, he could see tiny glimmers of silver — his own attempts at a Patronus —
There was a bush at the very edge of the water. Harry threw himself behind it, peering desperately through the leaves. On the opposite bank, the glimmers of silver were suddenly extinguished. A terrified excitement shot through him — any moment now —
"Come on!" he muttered, staring about. "Where are you? Dad, come on —"
But no one came. Harry raised his head to look at the circle of Dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear — but no one was coming to help this time —And then it hit him — he understood. He hadn't seen his father, he had seen himself —
Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his wand.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM! " he yelled.
And out of the end of his wand burst, not a shapeless cloud of mist, but a blinding, dazzling, silver animal. He screwed up his eyes, trying to see what it was. It looked like a horse. It was galloping silently away from him, across the black surface of the lake. He saw it lower its head and charge at the swarming Dementors… Now it was galloping around and around the black shapes on the ground, and the Dementors were falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness… They were gone.
The Patronus turned. It was cantering back toward Harry across the still surface of the water. It wasn't a horse. It wasn't a unicorn, either. It was a stag. It was shining brightly as the moon above… it was coming back to him…
It stopped on the bank. Its hooves made no mark on the soft ground as it stared at Harry with its large, silver eyes. Slowly, it bowed its antlered head. And Harry realized…"Prongs," he whispered.
But as his trembling fingertips stretched toward the creature, it vanished.
Harry stood there, hand still outstretched. Then, with a great leap of his heart, he heard hooves behind him. He whirled around and saw Hermione dashing toward him, dragging Buckbeak behind her.