CHAPTER THREE

The Dementor

Harry woke up to an uncanny brightness. Tom had opened up the curtains to let in some light. Liam was still fast asleep. The mound that was his cousin humbly snored away despite the bright room.

"Better hurry up, Mr Potter. An hour goes by quickly," said Tom before leaving. He shot Harry his toothless grin, and then he disappeared into the hallway.

Harry rubbed his eyes opened, and then set his eyes on Liam again. He still didn't stir. He planned to do something, but Ron walked in.

"Percy's a real pain!" said Ron. "I suspect it's because he just realised that there's another Head Boy."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry. He was sure the last time there had only been one Head Boy and one Head Girl.

"Double in population, double in everything," said Ron. "After Liam and I stuck the world back together, Hogwarts went through this massive increase in population. There'd been too many students so Dumbledore and Glumberry agreed on two Head Boys and two Head Girls, and four prefects for each house instead of two."

"But that shouldn't matter, should it?" asked Harry.

"Eh, just increases my chances of becoming Head Boy," said Ron. He leaned on Harry's bed, only then realising the moving mound on the bed across. "Is he still sleeping?"

"Yup," said Harry. He picked up a pillow and threw it at Liam, waking him up.

"What the bloody hell!" he snapped.

"Wakey wakey, sleepyhead," said Harry, slipping out of bed himself. "We've got an hour until the train leaves."

Liam did nothing but grunt. For a moment, Harry thought he'd gone back to sleep, but he threw the pillow, that was rudely thrown at him, across the room and started rubbing his eyes open.

"How is it that you're the first to sleep but the last to wake up?" asked Harry.

Liam moved around in his bed.

"I think we all know the answer to that Harry," said Liam, yawning. "I cherish my sleep."

Then he got out of bed and paused. Sleep still keeping him drowsy. After a while he went off to open his trunk to get a fresh set of clothes out along with his Hogwarts robes. Harry had done the same, and Ron sat around on the unmade beds, waiting and ranting on about how much of a pain Percy had been lately.

"I need to tell you something," said Harry suddenly. This was prevented, though, because Fred and George had come to offer Ron a place in their pranking schemes as well, for successfully managing to irk Percy for the second time.

They went down for breakfast with forty minutes to spear. Mr Weasley was parked on a chair, again reading the Daily Prophet. Mr Williams was poking away at the nearby fireplace – it oddly almost appeared as though he was talking into to. Mrs Weasley, Mrs Clark and Mrs Williams were all telling Tessa, Ginny and Hermione their tales of the enchanted love potion. Liam may have even overheard his mother say that she may have used one once on his father, a statement that made him nothing but queasy. It seemed to have the girls all in giggles, though. Another thing that made him queasy.

Mr Clark had just made his last trip downstairs with his own travelling bag in hand. He placed it near a heap where all the other trunks were. Hedwig and Patches were on top of the pile, hooting away at each other.

"Were you about to say something, Harry?" asked Ron.

"Later," said Harry as they came closer to the rest.

"Oh boys," said Mr Weasley, "I've arranged for a couple Ministry cars to come by in a while, so eat up and get ready. They should be here in a couple of minutes." Then he went back to reading the newspaper.

Percy came in, placing Hermes, his pet owl, right next to Hedwig and Patches. A wickerwood basket was nearby, almost bouncing around as though it had a brain of its own. Hermione approached it and said, "It's okay, Crookshanks, I'll let you out when we're on the train."

And then she went back to join the girls, who were giggling all over again. First at Mr Clark – probably because of what Mrs Clark had said – who was making sure all the trunks were sorted out and in order, then at Liam – probably because they spotted his queasy expression – then to the other two fathers, one at the fire and one behind his copy of the Daily Prophet.

They all scarfed down breakfast and had twenty minutes waiting for the Ministry cars to stop by. When they had, they all had their trunks stuffed in the boot and seated themselves comfortably for their trip to King's Cross Station. There was ten minutes left when they arrived. The drivers found them trolleys, offloaded all the trunks and saluted to Mr Weasley before leaving.

"Shall we do this in pairs?" asked Mr Weasley.

"That's a good idea, seeming that there so many of us," said Mr Clark.

"I'm going with Dad!" yelled Liam, and he pushed his trolley to his father. Mr Clark took his trolley and looked at his son.

"Wanna play pilot?" asked Mr Clark, but he said it in a way Harry was sure was only known to the two of them.

"Pilot?" he asked his aunt.

"Before the Leaky Cauldron, your uncle took Liam out a lot in his car ... it's a flying car so imagine Liam's face when your uncle said 'hey Junior, want to go for a little spin in that old hooter in the garage' ... he even allowed him to drive it, or fly it ..." said Mrs Clark. A certain looked glazed over her face. Harry found it hard to read. "They called it 'Playing Pilot' ... stupid actually ... it's moments like these when I wish I could find a way to make him less childish ... but that's who he is, and the man I chose to marry, so I guess it was my mistake, too."

Harry laughed. By the tone of her voice he knew she was only joking.

"I can always do it for you if you want," his aunt said.

"On a trolley?" Harry heard Liam ask.

"It's simple, really," said Mr Clark. "Just ... hang on."

Liam climbed onto the trolley, clutching tightly as his father broke into a run towards the wall between platforms nine and ten. It looked dangerous, especially since they were running into a wall. It made Harry consider whether he wanted to do it or not. He quickly made his decision.

"I'm all right," said Harry, scrunching up his face.

"Right, Harry, will you be going with your aunt or me?" asked Mr Weasley.

"My aunt, thanks, Mr Weasley," said Harry, sticking close to his aunt who forced the trolley out of his hands.

She shot him a smile, and said, "Last chance ... you sure you don't want to play pilot?"

"I'm okay," said Harry.

"Okay ..."

The Clarks had a knack for using different tones when they spoke, and those that were all funny or enlightening in the situation. Harry thought it might have been to make them seem more friendly, or funnier. It was something that made him like them better. Something that almost made him wish he'd never met the Dursleys.

His aunt began to push the trolley towards the barrier. Harry ran along with her, gripping onto the trolley to make sure they didn't part. They fell sideways onto platform nine and three-quarters and looked up to see the scarlet steam train that would be their way to Hogwarts.

Harry looked around and spotted Mr Clark and Liam. Mr Clark was haunching so that he was levelled with his son. They were talking, a stern face on both of them. Then they both smile and Liam seemed to run his finger along the scar on his forehead. His father mirrored him, then Mr Clark stood and tousled his son's hair.

Percy and Ginny appeared next, Ron and Mr Weasley following suit.

"Penelope!" screamed Percy, suddenly smoothing his hair and going pink. Ginny and Harry looked at each other, both smiling, trying to refrain themselves from laughing at the boy that now took large strides towards a girl with long, curly hair. His chest was out to present the Head Boy badge.

"Is he trying to impress her or scare her away?" asked Mr Clark as he and Liam rejoined the rest. "Well, they've been dating for a while, from what I heard, so I think she's gotten used to it. That, or she's just completely oblivious to it."

The rest of the Weasleys, Hermione and the Williams joined them. Mr and Mrs Clark refused to let Harry and Liam touch their trunks until they were in the train. They all packed an empty carriage, and then put Hedwig, Patches and Crookshanks in the luggage rack. Afterwards, they went back out to say goodbye.

Mrs Weasley kissed all the Weasleys, Hermione, Tessa, Liam and then Harry. Harry and Liam went onto Mr and Mrs Clark – after bidding Mr and Mrs Williams a goodbye – both of whom hugged them. Mrs Clark did not hesitate to kiss either of them either, and Mr Clark ruffled their hair.

"So long. Enjoy the daunting roads of school work and exams and remember to cause all the trouble you can," said Mr Clark in a proud voice.

"Oh, shut it!" said Mrs Clark, even though Harry and Liam were smiling. "Don't listen to him. He's only listing the number of things that can get you expelled."

"I never got expelled and I was the worst troublemaker there was," said Mr Clark. "Me and your dad, Harry. The two of us got up to the most trouble, of course with the help of Venus and Si– Wigan."

"Wigan was a troublemaker?" asked Harry.

"Well, not all the time, but he was included in a lot of it," said Mr Clark.

Harry and Liam were about to be off, but Mr Clark caught Harry's arm. Liam, oblivious about this, went on to following the rest into the steam train.

"One quick word, Harry?" asked Mr Clark.

"This is about Sirius Black, isn't it?" asked Harry.

"Why, yes ... how'd you know?" asked Mr Clark. "What, can you speak to snakes and read people's minds?" He joked, but his expression changed almost immediately.

"No ... I – err – overheard you guys speaking yesterday," said Harry. "Sorry."

"It's all right, at least you know, it's better that way, I think," said Mr Clark. "Look, a lot of people have told me not to tell you. That you're too young ... even Minister Fudge ... but I'm your uncle, not the Ministry and not the Daily Prophet. In decision-making, Your aunt and I come next after your parents. We know what's best for you and telling you is honestly the next best thing."

"You're not scared, are you?" asked Mrs Clark, concerned.

"Not at all," said Harry. Mr and Mrs Clark weren't very convinced. "Really, I'm not. Sirius Black can't be any worse than Voldemort or Valindor."

"Okay," said Mr Clark. Harry was surprised at the lack of reaction his aunt and uncle had when saying the names of the Dark Lords. In fact, they didn't react to it at all. They both cracked a narrow smile, Mr Clark looking directly in his green eyes. "But we need to know one more thing. We need to know if you won't got looking for Black – I know it's an absurd idea ... but I know you and I knew your father. He and I, despite us being from entirely different families, were so alike in many ways. Eventually curiosity catches up to us, making us want to find out what's causing all the commotion and why ... apart from us, that is. We need to know that you're not going to go after Black, that you'll stay safe and away from those Azkaban guards. The farther away you are from them the farther you are from Black."

A particular feeling crept up Harry. He saw Mr Clark's lip twitch, something he found strange. Something told him that his uncle was putting an awful amount of effort into saying those words.

"How would I know a guard when I see one?" asked Harry.

"Oh, you'll know," said Mr Clark. "Now, Liam and I do this little thing when we make promises. It's a way we know we keep the promises we make. It's stupid, but we call it the Lightning Promise. Lightning Promise because we seal it by drawing a lightning scar on our foreheads with our fingers. I'm letting you in on this, okay, and I need you to make me a lightning promise.

"Promise me, Harry, solemnly swear it, that no matter what you do, you won't go looking for Black?" Mr Clark waited for Harry to respond.

Harry realised that this is what Mr Clark and Liam had been doing earlier before they rejoined them when Percy went off to Penelope. He knew now that Liam had promised his father to do something, something he wanted to know about, but along with the feeling that his cousin was keeping something from him came, oddly enough, a warm feeling. A warm feeling that boiled a smile onto his face. He smiled because he was allowed to do something that was secret between father and son. Between Liam and Mr Clark.

"I promise, I won't go after Black," said Harry, and then he ran his index finger along his scar. Mr Clark smiled, impressed that he didn't have to show Harry how to do it. Then he drew a lightning scar on his forehead, himself. Mr Clark then brought Harry into a hug and tousled Harry's hair again, and Mrs Clark hugged him, too, kissing his forehead once more.

"Our brave little boy," said Mrs Clark. "Now, off you go, or you'll be left behind."

Harry scurried off into the steam train and rejoined his friends and cousin, but they were looking for an empty compartment. Ginny had been lucky enough to find one with her friends.

"Took you long enough," Liam said to Harry. "What happened, your legs froze or something?"

"No. Nothing," said Harry. He smiled out the window. Mr and Mrs Clark, along with Mr and Mrs Weasley and Mr and Mrs Williams, were waving, arm in arm. "What's going on here? We haven't found a compartment?"

"All of them are full except for the one in the back," answered Tessa.

"Except there's some old man sleeping in it," said Liam.

"Do you even know how to be nice?" asked Hermione, glaring at Liam.

"Yes, actually, it's what wakes me up everyday," said Liam.

"Actually, what wakes you up is me throwing a pillow in your face," commented Harry.

"That too," said Liam. The main purpose Harry intervened was to stop the argument that would follow between Hermione and Liam. But it didn't seem to work for Liam's focus went back to Hermione. "Besides, I'm not fully convinced that you know how to be nice, either."

"All right! All right! The only thing worse than me and Hermione bickering is you two having a go at each other," said Ron. "Let's get to that empty compartment. Scabbers is getting irritable and I have a pretty good idea why." Ron looked at Hermione, and then at the wickerwood basket that was fixed to the top of her trunk. Then he led the way to the end where the empty compartment had been.

"Where'd they pick him up from?" asked Liam. Harry could sense that he wasn't trying to be entirely rude, but Hermione thought otherwise. She rolled her eyes at him and pushed passed him to get a seat in the compartment.

"Honestly, does 'nice' even have a description in your mind?" she said.

Liam's jaw clenched, and Harry could see that he was trying to make an effort not to shout. "How did she even become your friend?"

"We saved her," said Harry, trying to ease the tension. "From a troll."

Liam heaved a sigh and then looked at the man. He wanted to say something but stopped halfway through opening his mouth. He feared Hermione would come up with more reasons to hate him. Which added to his reasons, as well. Instead, he sat down opposite the sleeping man, but mainly to get away from Hermione.

Harry and Ron joined him. Hermione and Tessa sat next to the man as though he wasn't even there.

The stranger wore darned and shabby robes that nearly covered his entire face. Something told them that was his initial intention, but with the occasional bumps of the train and the man's heaving breathing, it was a very short-lived intention. He looked quite young, however there had been grey streaks in his brown hair.

"His name's Professor R.J Lupin, if you're wondering," piped up Hermione.

"How'd you know that?" asked Ron.

"She's being Ms Know-It-All as usual," muttered Liam. He avoided the inevitable glare from Hermione by looking out the window.

"He has a case, genius!" said Hermione, her gaze not leaving Liam even if he was looking out the window. "And, like everything else, his case happens to have his name on it. Everybody would have checked that unlike –"

"He'll be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts," spat Tessa, hastily.

"How would you know that?" asked Ron.

"It's obvious, Ron. It's the only job up for grabs after Lockhart and Wigan left," said Tessa.

"I honestly don't see why hunting down the Xelarus Slug is any reason to leave the role," said Ron.

"Sorry?" asked Harry.

"The Xelarus Slug? It's why Wigan left," said Ron. "He heard news of a rare slug species somewhere near the boarders of TAL. He said it fit every description of a Xelarus Slug, an mythical creature that has never been seen today. Dunno why it'd be found in TAL, though, it's a terrible place to find yourself in. Some say it's because it leeches onto you and sucks out a pint of blood with each swallow when in thought of danger. But people still go after it because it's a good ingredient for special potions. It's an excellent sedative, as well. It's slime's supposed to make you feel calmer than anything that's ever been created."

"Wigan quit his job at Hogwarts for a slug ...?" asked Liam, finally reeling his eyes back into the compartment. He had an unreadable expression on his face, somewhere in between confused and outraged. "That can't be the reason why?"

"And why not?" asked Hermione, sternly. "Wigan is a professional adventurer and author. His reason to capture an elusive mythical creature is highly for the purpose of benefitting the Wizarding race or, if not, his career. Even if it is a slug."

Liam rolled his eyes wondering how she couldn't see what he was trying to say. "Well that's exactly it. He's going after a mythical creature ... mythical creature. If you look that up in the dictionary, Ms-Know-It-All-Granger, then you'll know it means it might be only myth. A tale told in the olden days. Wigan would go after something that's never been seen before."

"Clearly you haven't met him," said Hermione.

"Cleary you haven't, either," retaliated Liam. "Look, yeah Wigan's a good adventurer and he's written tons of books, but they're all based on creatures that were recorded down from a long time ago – if you're going to ask me how I'd know that, Granger, it's because my dad happens to be his best friend," he added once seeing Hermione open her mouth. "He's hunted them down, proved to the people that this thing really has been seen before, but this – this slug has the same story every time. Wigan quit for something, all right, but it certainly wasn't to look for a nonexistent slug."

"Where'd that come from, Mister?" asked Ron. He and everyone else was shocked that Liam, above all people, could come up with a theory like that.

"My mother's Angela Clark ... it isn't very hard," said Liam. In some manner he felt he had the right to say that he'd also done it to sound smarter than Hermione Granger, the know it all who thought she knew it all about him, but he thought about the prospect. He didn't know Hermione enough to know what hurts her and what didn't, but he knew he didn't want to hurt her. He disliked her in some ways – many ways – but it wasn't enough to make her sad. In any fact, he hated it when people were sad. Even if they were strangers. Seeing a scene as such just boiled his stomach with such an unpleasant feeling that it becomes uncomfortable.

SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

Hermione's hand had appeared above her, snapping away at the sky as though it had no control. Liam stirred. She was frowning and looking directly at him.

"What's the matter with your hand? Does it hate you, too?" asked Liam, and she stopped.

"He didn't mean that ..." piped Harry.

"I know ..." said Hermione, but her expression said otherwise. "Stop staring at me!"

Liam hadn't noticed that his trail of thoughts about the girl who just about hated every factor of his wellbeing had him staring at her for the time being. His cheeks felt hot with embarrassment, but he didn't want to feel embarrassed, he wanted to retaliate. He put on a cheeky grin to draw attention away from his probably flushing cheeks and said, "Why? You scared of my eyes?"

Hermione rolled her own and then turned to Harry. "How is it possible for you cousin to be so obnoxious?"

"She didn't mean that –" said Harry.

"I know ..." growled Liam, but his voice didn't sound like he cared. Ron and Tessa looked at each other wondering what would happen next. "How is it possible that you became friends with her?" He was going to wait for an answer, but one came to mind that he knew would get Hermione to shut up. "Oh. Right. They save you from a troll, didn't they. What happened, were you too afraid to face it yourself? Did you crawl under a sink to hide away from it? Or perhaps you were so desperate that you tried to hide in one of the stalls? I would have suspected you knew at least one spell to save yourself ..."

When Hermione didn't say anything, Liam smiled, but he was quite oblivious to the fact that her face had gone red. Either from anger or embarrassment. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't welcoming and everyone else saw that.

"Whoa, Hermione! You look like you want to punch him," said Ron.

"You bet –" said Hermione.

"I'd like to see you try," said Liam, snickering.

"Calm down, Granger, it's only us," said a voice from the compartment door. All head's snapped toward it.

"Oh, as if my day wasn't bad already," sighed Liam. Draco Malfoy was leaning on the compartment door, his pale, pointed face twisted into a smile. Dmitri McElroy stood near him with her arms folded across her chest and with a bit of attitude. Her brother, Adrian, stood closely beside her with his hands in his pockets. Behind them, in a close pack, was Crabbe and Goyle, snickering amongst themselves. A smile was on their faces, too, and that had them all wondering whether they and their party of cronies had been listening –– and enjoying –– Hermione and Liam's argument.

Draco Malfoy has been Harry's enemy –– and somewhat rival –– since the first day they met. Malfoy always seemed to always want better things than Harry did, and always seemed to want to be better than him in everything. The same intentions came across the McElroy twins, who look so alike that it was a wonder why they had different coloured hair. Dmitri, with her blonde-streaked brown hair, always made everything sound dramatic, which was the most annoying thing about her –– apart from her insults. Adrian, with his brown-streaked blonde hair, was always the one with the nasty attitude. Liam was sure he had the potential to be worse than all three of them combined.

"Why, Granger, I think your dirty blood's starting to show through your skin," mocked Dmitri in her dramatically enhanced voice.

Hermione was certainly now red with embarrassment. Every bit of anger washed off her face. She looked away from the group, ignored their jeers and laughter.

"What's the matter, Mudblood? Embarrassed much?" jeered Adrian.

As the snickering grew, so did the tension in the air. Harry felt his hands ball into fist, prepping themselves to fly through the air and make a very painful contact with Draco or Adrian's faces. Ron gritted his teeth so hard he was afraid they might break, but cared no less. Tessa was consoling her friend, who didn't seem to need it, and her expression was incredulous. However, Liam – among the five of them – was oddly the first one to act.

He stood, anger riddled on his face, and literally spat, "Shut it!"

Draco, Adrian and Dmitri just smiled. Draco then pretended to be afraid of him and said, "Ooh ... careful there, Slippy, we all remember what happened the last time you tried to help her."

He remembered it all too well, but it was because he knew that somehow Louis Nord –– Lord Valindor –– had something to do with it. Not because everyone was there. He had ran, head first, into the wall behind him because in his mind he thought he was being chased by Venus Sting. It ended him up in the hospital wing with a slight concussion; Harry shortly joined after nearly being grounded into dust by a rogue bludger controlled by Dobby the house-elf as an attempt to protect him.

"In any case, why're you even helping her?" asked Dmitri. "We all heard your little argument. I'm surprised you two didn't wake up that old thing lying against the window."

"His name's R.J Lupin and he's a professor at the school," said Hermione, doggedly.

"We weren't talking to you, Mudblood!" said Dmitri, hardly recognising what Hermione said – probably because she didn't think it worth her time.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," said Liam, grinning yet there was still a very angered expression on his face, "because you won't be enjoying anything else much longer!"

"Oh, is Little Clark Junior in love?" mocked Draco.

"With her?" spat Liam, outraged. "I'd rather be thrown out of the train!"

"Yeah, me too," commented Hermione.

"And in any fact, the only person who gets to insult her is me ... at least I do it nicely," said Liam. Hermione rolled her eyes. "And don't ever call me Clark Junior again. That name is reserved for the people I actually give a damn about."

"Watch your tongue, Clark!" spat Adrian. The train gave an unexpected jerk, stirring the crowd by the door and almost knocking Liam over. All it did was widen the smiles they all had. "You better sit down before really get thrown off the train."

Liam sat, not wanting to take the risk. He had the same red anger Hermione had on for him on his face. He really looked like he wanted to punch him. It actually looked like a crazy desire.

"Anyway," began Malfoy, "Weasel, I heard your family got to hold real gold this year. I'm sure your mother died of a heart attack."

This time Ron stood. He stood so quickly that it hardly was registered by the others.

"Shut up and go away!" yelled Harry, before Ron could try anything stupid.

Professor Lupin snorted and a silence followed after. The train gave another jerk.

"You Slytherins must be real thick if you think picking up a fight under a teacher's nose is a good idea," said Liam. "So why don't you run along and mind your own business."

Another silence. Dmitri and Adrian looked at each other, then at Lupin, then at Malfoy, who looked at them. Malfoy's eyes had then flittered towards the teacher.

"Come on," said Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle seemed upset about the fact that they had to leave. "Let's go."

"They're not worth our time, anyway," continued Adrian.

Ron sat once they were all out of sight. His knuckles were white and his angered expression hadn't gone away.

"If they make another comment on my family, I'll –"

"Pipe it," said Liam, who, although had his eyebrows furrowed, looked otherwise calmer than a few seconds before. "There's no use blabbing on about something idiots like the McElroys and their new friend do. That's wasting our time. If they come up to us again with something else, we'll know what to do. I think it's on all our minds."

Ron, who was still quite angry, agreed with that and then went onto massaging his knuckles. Liam had barely leaned against the window when he heard,

"Thank you."

It was so soft he barely thought anyone had said anything. But he had looked up at Hermione, head in his hand, and saw that she had something of a sympathetic look on her face. One that was threatening to go away if he didn't talk anytime soon.

"I may dislike you, but I hate them," said Liam, flickering a smile. "Besides, an enemy of my enemy is my enemy, right? I wouldn't count you as an enemy, though. Just ... someone I don't really like."

The corners of his mouth curled when he thought he may have seen a smile on Hermione's face. He would have mocked her on that, if he hadn't just done the same thing himself. He just kept looking out the window, which kept getting darker and darker from the frosty rain outside.

"I need to tell you guys something," Harry said.

They all looked at him.

"Is it –" Liam had asked but Harry cut him off by nodding.

Harry then explained everything about Sirius Black being after him. He seemed at ease, and so did Liam. However, it was unfortunately only something the two of them shared. Hermione and Tessa bore similar expressions. They were both very shocked and a large amount of concern was riddled in their faces. Ron was still. Nothing showed how he felt.

"How is it possible that you are not bothered by this?" Tessa questioned Liam.

"He's insensitive ––" said Hermione.

"No!" snapped Liam, rolling his eyes at her. "I was there when we heard it. The shocked drained out of me."

"How can this 'drain out' of you?" asked Hermione.

"I was under the same circumstances, if you don't remember," said Liam.

"I'm going to stop the conversation if you two are going to bicker again," said Harry.

"She's the one who started it," mumbled Liam.

"You're not five," said Harry. He looked at Hermione after. "Neither are you."

"How'd you expect he's done it?" asked Ron, his tone evidently giving away that he wanted to move on with the matter. "Black, I mean. How'd he break out of Azkaban?"

"I dunno," said Harry. "My question's rather why he'd be coming after me? I didn't do much but be a baby, really."

"But no one knows that," said Tessa. "Everyone believes both you and Liam had some extraordinary power to defeat the Dark Lords. It's the only thing that makes sense to them. It's the only thing that makes sense to Black, and if that's what he's after you for, then it means he blames you for him being apprehended. For him losing everything. I only makes sense, right?"

Harry had heard it all before. He'd listen to Mr and Mrs Williams explain the exact reason why before, and it hadn't purged the odd feeling he got that there was something more to this story. To Black's story. He had to admit that he'd felt it before, but he was unsure where. Perhaps with Venus? After all, it was under the same circumstance.

After a while of thinking, Harry just felt uncomfortable about the whole thing. They had all gone quiet, watching him slip into his thoughts. When he stirred, he smiled and said, "Let's talk about something happier —"

"Hogsmeade!" Ron blurted. Harry's stomach sank and he shut his eyes. I forgot to get the form signed! he thought. He wanted to slap himself, knock some sense into him, punish his idiotic whim for making him forget something as such. However, he didn't want to let them know about it. Especially Liam as they all know that he could have asked his Aunt Angela and Uncle Thomas to sign the form.

"I believe you meant Honeydukes, dear Ron," said Liam with a wide smile on his face.

"Oh, I did." Ron grinned, and then looked to the ceiling with a sort of daze.

"Sorry ... what's Honeydukes?" asked Tessa.

Ron's head had snapped back to her.

"A sweetshop," said Ron and Liam at the same time.

"Always rely on Liam and Ron to be excited about something like that," said Tessa, rolling her eyes. "What I'm more interested about is the history behind it. I heard it's the only settlement that consists of just wizards."

Hermione's face lit up brightly. "You read about that, too ––"

"They've got everything there, Harry. Everything," spat Ron.

"Pepper Imps!" Liam yelled, his mouth wide opened. "They make your mouth smoke ––"

"Great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream," said Ron.

"Ooh! I would really like to try one of those sugar quills –– I'd use them all the time during Potions if I had to," said Liam. Ron nodded in agreement. "You can chew on them all day long and it would look like your concentrating."

Harry saw Hermione roll her eyes, probably as a gesture that she was disliking him even more. Then she turned to Harry, something that caught him off guard, and opened her mouth to speak.

"There are more interesting facts about Hogsmeade, Harry," she said. Harry braced himself for what she was about to say next. "In the 1612 goblin rebellion, the inn was used as headquarters. And there is a place that is supposed to be extremely haunted. They call in the Shrieking Shack ––"

"–– what about those massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ron. Liam appeared to nearly melt at the mention of it.

Hermione sighed and then looked at Tessa, who looked at Harry.

"I'm sure you'd love to do some exploring in Hogsmeade, won't you, Harry?"

"I only wish I could," said Harry, shutting up Liam and Ron.

"What d'you mean?" asked Liam.

"I can't go to Hogsmeade," said Harry.

"'Course you can ... didn't you give the form to my mum and dad?" asked Liam.

"I forgot."

"You forgot?" asked Ron, outraged.

"Yeah, I forgot," said Harry. "Well, first it was because my uncle and aunt –– the Dursleys, not your parents, Liam –– told me they'd sign it if I was nice around Aunt Marge. Given the outcome of that day, I didn't expect to get anything signed. Then we were at the Leaky Cauldron and I was kind of having a good time ... and I forgot to give it to your parents to sign. To be fair, they only came back yesterday."

"That's too bad," said Ron, lost for words. "But –– but I'm sure someone would give you permission. McGonagall? McDonald? Sunderland? Sunderland seems to like the two of you."

"Or you can just send the slip to my parents by owl," said Liam. "They'd send it back signed. Just make sure you remember to put I'm sorry for being an idiot and not bringing it to you in the first place on the letter."

For some reason, that brought a smile to Harry's face (despite the sudden mood the mention of Hogsmeade had him in). Harry hardly noticed that he playfully punched Liam in the arm and started to laughed.

"Well, at least that cheered you up ––"

GRUMBLE!

"Bloody hell, Ron, what are you housing in that stomach of yours?" said Liam. Again, Harry had the urge to laugh.

"I'm hungry, mind you! Hey ––" he spat, looking at Hermione. An orange, furry ball now sat on her lap. "Get that thing back in its cage!"

"Calm down, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "Crookshanks won't do anything to Scabbers."

"Oh you damn hope he doesn––" Ron caught Lupin stirring, and he shut his mouth. The sleeping professor lay still on the darkened window.

"Looks like we're slowing down," said Tessa, being the first to break the silence.

"Great!" said Ron, standing. "It's not good to keep a hungry stomach waiting."

"We can't have been there already," said Hermione, trying to see where they were though the misted window. She couldn't see anything, though, but it didn't appear as though they had been at the castle yet. "The trip was shorter than usual."

"Great, so we're stuck in the middle of the railroad with nothing to eat," said Ron. Harry stood to look out of the compartment. Dozens of heads lined up the walkway, all wondering, like Harry, what had been going on. "Boy, I wish that food cart would come round about now."

"It could be worse," said Liam, who used his efforts to lean on the window again, his palm planted into his cheek. "We could be sitting here in complete darkness ––"

Immediately after he said that, as though he were a trigger, all the lamps blew out, leaving them –– like Liam feared –– in complete darkness.

"Nice going, Liam!" groaned Ron.

"Okay, I did not mean that literally," said Liam, looking around the ceiling as though hoping it would grant him some light.

Harry felt his way back to his seat.

"Must've broken down, right?" asked Ron.

"Probably," answered Harry. "Hopefully they can start up again. I'm sure you're not the only one hungry around here."

A squeaking noise sounded, and Ron looked toward the window in hope of catching Liam.

"Oi! See what's out there!" whispered Ron.

Harry saw Liam's dark outline grabbing his sleeve and then using it to wipe a circle near his head.

"I can't see much –– but there's definitely something moving out there," said Liam.

"D'you think people are coming aboard?" asked Ron.

"Doubt it," said Liam, taking another glance through his small circle. "But it's a possibility."

Suddenly the compartment door opened and was followed by a loud ––

"Ouch!"

"Sorry ... I really need to watch where I'm going."

"Neville? Is that you?" asked Harry.

"Harry?" asked Neville. "Oh. Good thing I got a compartment with someone I know."

"Do you know what's going on, Neville?" asked Hermione. "Because if you don't, I'm going to have a word with the driver."

"Sorry, I don't."

"Right!" There was a muffled thud, and then a dark outline strode across the apartment in front of Harry. "Ouch!"

This time, two voices came in unison.

"Who's this?" asked Hermione.

"Who's this?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"D'you have an idea what on earth is going on here?" asked Ginny.

"I was just about to go ask the driver."

"Right, considering Ginny arrived just in time to stop you from going anywhere, can you sit down please!" spat Liam. "Owe! Not there!"

"You asked me to sit down!"

"Yeah ... it's a simple few steps to your seat! You didn't have to take the detour across my feet!"

"Oh, calm down!"

"Owe!" yelled Ron. "Blimey, Hermione, did you backtrack or something."

"Sorry."

A high pitched sound rang in the compartment. Silence fell. Again they looked at the window. The little circle Liam wiped into it was now frosting up, and the surrounding perimeter around it spiked with thin cracks. Liam barely nicked the glass with his finger before it swiftly retreated to his other hand. He was rubbing it warm.

"That doesn't look good ... and it's as cold as hell ..." said Liam, inching further and further away from the window; he feared it would spontaneously shatter.

"You should probably get away from the window," said a hoarse voice and Liam went still.

"Who said that?" asked Liam, slowly.

"Keep quiet!" he spat.

Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up, even after the rough trip and the unnecessary shouting. After a moment, a fiery light erupted from the palm of his hand, but it did not illuminate the compartment.

"Do not move," said Lupin. Him and his ball of fire were inching closer to the compartment door, but it opened before he could reach it.

Lupin's shaggy brown hair was blown into his face by a frosty, cold wind. The flames in Lupin's hand illuminated on cloaked figure standing in the doorway. Its face was hidden under its hood. A swift movement caught Harry's attention; a hand was snaking its way out from underneath the cloak. It look nearly raw. It shun, scabbed and slimy.

But it returned to the folds of the cloak. The thing underneath the hood drew a long, slow breath, gliding past Lupin in a swift stride and towered Harry in his seat. Harry could feel the very air around him thin, and his breath seized suddenly in his chest. The cold air seemed to have penetrated his skin, like tiny shards of icicles piercing every cell over and over again.

"Stop it!" he heard Lupin's hoarse voice yell, but it seemed distant.

"Leave my cousin alone!" this time Liam spoke, and yet again he sounded distant. He saw his blurred figure jumping in front of him, but it disappeared almost immediately.

Harry's eyes rolled up into his head. He could see nothing. He was drowning deeper and deeper into the cold. He could feel himself being dragged down the pressurising cold. And suddenly he was far away. The only thing he could hear was a loud, piercing scream. It was a terrible, pleading scream. Someone needed help, and Harry was desperate to do so but he couldn't. He was refrained from doing it ... his arms tied down by an invisible force ... a thick fog swam around him —