A/N: So . . . Prisoner of Azkaban has proven to be a little bit too good. There was so much Harmony in there, I didn't know what to do with it all! So I've narrowed it down to just my absolute favorites. A painful decision, really, but it's for the best. That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the rest of the story. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


It was cold.

I didn't remember it being this cold earlier. Of course, before (or right now, you could argue), I was in the Shrieking Shack, being shielded somewhat from the icy wind. But now, sitting a safe distance away from the Whomping Willow, I had lost almost all the feeling in my toes, and my fingers were getting stiff.

Not creepy at all.

My thoughts wandered to Sirius, and therefore, my dad. I remembered what I'd seen at the lake, and suddenly felt the need to talk to somebody about it.

Well, Hermione was next to me, and who better to discuss something with than the smartest witch of her age?

"Hermione?" I said cautiously, not entirely sure of myself. I knew this would sound crazy to her, even though she probably wouldn't say it outright. It had been in her voice earlier, when we were in the hospital wing. But I wanted to get this out.

"Yeah?" she replied.

I bit my lip before speaking again. "Before . . . down by the lake, when I was with Sirius . . . I did see someone. That someone made the dementors go away."

I wasn't looking directly at her, but I could picture her nodding her head. "With a patronus," she guessed. Though, knowing her, it wasn't a guess. She always knew these things. I turned to her. "I heard Snape telling Dumbledore. According to him, only a really powerful wizard could have conjured it."

There was no stopping the smile that spread across my face. "It was my dad," I said, looking away again. "It was my dad who conjured the patronus."

"But Harry, your dad's—"

"Dead, I know!" I snapped, feeling very defensive all of a sudden. I regretted it as soon as I saw the look on Hermione's face. She looked confused and apologetic, but most of all, hurt. Hurt because of me. I sighed. "I'm just telling you what I saw," I explained, hoping she would just leave it alone. To my relief, she did.

I wanted to apologize. I really did. I felt horrible knowing I'd caused that pain in her eyes. But I didn't know how. Just saying "I'm sorry" wouldn't be enough. There was too much I wanted to say to her that I didn't know how to put into words. Until I could, I would just have to be silent.


A/N: Bah! Another long one! It's so hard to keep these short! Especially these later ones, as they mature and their emotions get more and more complex. So, I think it's safe to say that I can no longer classify these as "drabbles." They're one-shots. Boo. I like the word "drabble." It's fun. Don't ask me why I think that, I just do.

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