Harry and Hermione arrived at King's Cross a half hour early. The train station was full of a variety of people with a few wizarding families beginning to say their goodbyes to their children. Some of them were going for their first year, and a small pain struck Harry in the chest that no one had been there to wish him goodbye when he was eleven.

Even though it's been weeks since I saw them, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia still find a way to punch me in the gut one more time.

He had said his goodbyes to Andromeda, Ted and Dora earlier that morning before meeting up with Hermione's parents at their home. Andromeda had concealed her tears and told Harry to write to her as often as he wanted. Before he left, she handed him a signed permission slip for him to visit Hogsmeade which earned her an extra goodbye hug.

"Now Hermione, don't forget to write to us about your new classes," Emma said. "I'm sure you'll do great in them. We are so proud of you."

Dan turned to Harry. "I know that you'll try to stay out of trouble, Harry, but it does seem to follow you around."

Harry waited for him to continue.

"Just do your best to steer clear of it. Use your head. You seem like a good kid, and my Hermione could do much worse. Honestly, I'm shocked you are as nice as you are, given your upbringing with the Dursleys."

Harry's brow creased slightly. "I'm not sure where you're going with this, sir."

Dan put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Just watch out for her, will you? Don't put her in danger if you can absolutely do everything you can to help it. Keep a cool head. Understand?"

With a nod, Harry reached out and shook Dan's hand firmly. "I'll do my best, sir."

Emma reached out and pulled Harry into a hug right after she had done the same to Hermione. "We are so grateful that Hermione has grown closer to you. I've never seen her happier."

Hermione blushed with a big smile but did not correct her mother.

"You both watch out for each other and study hard," Emma said sternly.

"Yes ma'am," Harry said quickly.

"It's still Emma, dear," Hermione's mother chided.

"Sorry. I'll remember next time."

"Come on, Harry. I want to get a good compartment before they fill up." Hermione waved at her parents. "I love you both, and I'll see you at Christmas."

"We love you too sweetheart!" Emma called as both she and Dan waved.

Harry and Hermione stepped through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ and made their way onto the Hogwarts Express. It took them about 5 minutes before they found a compartment near the middle that had longer windows for what Hermione assured him were better views of the scenery.

Hermione fidgeted with one of her books for a minute before one of her hands dropped down to the seat. It didn't go unnoticed by Harry who was puzzled for a moment by the obvious action. Why did she do that? In a flash of understanding he knew.

She wants me to hold her hand, he thought.

Reaching out, he entwined his fingers in hers and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Hermione beamed at him. "Thank you, Harry. I was worried that . . . well, it's silly to say."

Harry asked, "You were worried that I changed my mind?"

"Not really. I just thought that maybe you didn't want people to see you with me just yet. People may not understand why you wanted to be with me. Especially Ron."

At the mention of their best friend's name, Harry felt the urge to let go of her hand as if the red-haired Gryffindor was walking into the compartment. He felt his face flush at the shame he felt and was glad he didn't act on it. Hermione was self-conscious about their relationship already. Harry could tell that she was worried that it wouldn't last because of other girls that might be interested in him. He had done his best to reassure her, but it would probably just take time.

I hope, he thought.

"I'm sure Ron will be fine with it," he said. "Even if he's not, I'm not letting you go, Mione. I really like you and I won't let Ron's temper get between us. And the rest of them can hang for all I care."

She smiled again and gave him a deep kiss.

Just then, the compartment door opened and a dumbfounded Ron was standing in the doorway.

"H-how? When? You . . . explain!" His face grew redder with each passing second.

"Honestly Ron, we were just kissing," Hermione said as she opened her book again. Despite her attempt to play it off, she was blushing madly.

Ron closed the door and an awkward silence fell in the compartment for almost five minutes.

"Why were you kissing Hermione?" Ron blurted. "I mean, she's well . . ."

"My girlfriend?" Harry offered.

"Girlfriend? Mate, you know you don't have to go for her just because she's our friend."

Harry fought the urge to snap at his ginger friend. "I'm not, Ron. I really like her, and she likes me. How hard is that to get?"

"Aren't you too a little, you know, young?" Ron glanced at Hermione, but she seemed to be tuning out of the conversation.

"We're dating, Ron. It's not like we're getting married tomorrow."

"You know what I mean."

It was quiet again for a few minutes.

"You gonna be ok with this?" Harry asked finally. "With us?"

"Oh, so you two are already an 'us', are you?" Ron said with a small smile. "Yea, just give me some time to wrap my head around it. It's just the shock of it all. I never saw it coming."

"I never did either until the basilisk."

Hermione lifted her eyes, suddenly very interested in the conversation again.

"A thousand-year-old serpent made you realize you liked me?" she asked wryly. "How romantic."

"Well, when I woke up and you were holding my hand, I started to feel something." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "It all started there I guess."

"No wonder you were so pissy when we were at Flourish and Blotts," Ron said quickly.

"Harry kept his temper just fine," Hermione informed him. "He even spoke to Malfoy without hexing him. You were being a prat so my reaction was perfectly understandable."

Ron's eyes flashed. "Malfoy? What the bloody hell were you doing talking to that slimy git?"

Harry shrugged.

"Seriously Harry, why? Were you telling him off because of what his Dad did to Ginny?"

"No." Harry wasn't sure what Ron's reaction would be. After a moment, he decided that it would come out eventually. "I was basically making him stop being my enemy."

"How are you planning on doing that? He basically hates you. Always has."

"Some of that is my fault, Ron. You know we have been just as bad as him sometimes. I could have been nicer to him."

Ron grimaced. "I still don't like it. He's a Slytherin, and Snakes can't be trusted. It's not like he's going to suddenly want to become your friend. You don't want that, right? Please tell you that you don't want that because if you do, I swear I will have you checked for the Imperius Curse."

Harry chuckled. "I don't need to make him my friend. I'm really not even looking to make him my ally."

Rubbing his temples, Ron muttered something that sounded like, "Bloody mental."

"I just need to be left alone this year. If I can be a little nice to Draco to get that, then I will. There's too much at stake now."

"What do you mean? And since when are you on first name basis with him?"

"I told him I would call him that, and you know that someday Voldemort—stop shuddering Ron—will come back. I need to be ready so I'll be studying more this year with Charms and DADA. Who know? I might even get Snape to give me a passing grade."

The ginger wizard snorted. "Sure thing and then he'll twirl around the Great Hall and sing praises about how great your Dad was."

The train edged away from London and began chugging toward Scotland. It was a quiet trip, punctuated only by Ron's occasional talks about Quidditch or a discussion with Hermione about something she had just read. Whenever the latter happened, Ron would roll his eyes.

"You're gonna turn him into a bookworm if you're not careful, Hermione," He joked.

She gave him an icy stare. "And what's so wrong with liking books, Ronald?"

"Well uh, you know that Harry's never really been into books like you have. Actually, outside of Ravenclaw, no one's really into books as much as you."

"Books don't make me cry or sent me toward a troll," she replied. With a sigh, she added, "Don't worry, Ron. I don't hold it against you. You should really learn to think before you speak though."

Ron opened his mouth as if to say something when the train suddenly slowed and finally came to a stop. He peered through the large window at the dark night.

"Why have we stopped?" Harry asked before he poked his head out of the compartment.

"No idea," Hermione replied.

The lights winked out and before they knew it, people were stumbling into each other in the corridor. Harry thought he heard Neville and Ginny cry as they tripped over one another, but it was hard to tell with all of the ruckus. His attention was more focused on a man was stepping through the corridor, a ball of blue flame held in the palm of his hand. Wandless magic? Who was he?

The man's face looked haggard but alert. His wand was out before him, but he paused when he saw Harry. Something in the look made Harry think that the man recognized him. It might have been the flicker of the light, but the man seemed to pale.

"Get back in your compartments," he ordered calmly. "We have—"

Harry was wondering what had stopped the man from speaking when he saw it. A looming figure, hooded and cloaked could be seen from the light of the blue flame. Before Harry could ask what it was, a withered skeletal hand reached out for him, sucking in a deep breath.

The air seemed to drop fifty degrees in a second, chilling Harry to the bone, but his body refused to shiver. Even deeper still, the cold reached for his magical core, to his very soul. He felt his eyes roll back in his head as he floated down into the depths of the cold. It was an abyss that he couldn't escape if he wanted to, a suffocating ocean that drowned him before he could think to breathe.

Throughout it all, a woman was screaming and the sound slowly intensified. Faint flashes of green floated throughout but it wasn't long before the scream and the cold were so intermingled that he thought he must be dead.

"None of us are hiding Sirius Black," the strange man's voice echoed in Harry's head.

A surge of magic snapped him back to his senses as a white light pulsed from the wizard's wand, driving back the cloaked intruder. He still felt the cold and at a glance, he wondered how he had managed to be on his back on the floor. His vision still felt hazy, and the cold still held its grip on his heart.

Someone slapped him on each cheek.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

"You . . . slapped me," he stated in shock.

"Sorry. I had to make sure you didn't pass out again."

His eyebrows shot up. "Again?"

"Yes. You fell on your back."

"You started twitching when you were on the floor," Ron spoke up. "We thought you were having a fit or something."

"What was that thing anyway?" Harry asked of the wizard who stood in the doorway. "And who are you?"

"That was a dementor from Azkaban," the man explained. "And I am Remus Lupin, your new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Well, I'm bloody well impressed," Ron said. "You've already got to be better than Quirrell and Lockhart combined."

Lupin smiled before he fished out a bar of chocolate out of his coat. "Break this up between yourselves. It will help with the effects of the dementors."

Harry gave him a skeptical look.

"Eat," Lupin ordered. "You'll feel better for it."

As he watched Professor Lupin walk away, he took a bite of chocolate. It did help, and Harry could immediately feel the warmth returning to him. He reminded himself that he would do his best not to cross paths with a dementor ever again.

"Sure you're okay, mate?" Ron asked.

"I'm fine," he answered.

Hermione gave him a look that told him that she didn't believe him in the slightest and shuddered. "It felt so cold."

"Yea," Ron agreed. "There was something worse too—like I'd never be cheerful again."

"I heard screaming," Harry blurted.

"Screaming?" Ron frowned. "Nope. I didn't. Hermione?"

A concerned look was plastered on her face. "No."

Harry sighed. "Just forget I said anything. At least no one saw me faint or whatever."

As they made their way up the stairs, Harry couldn't help but wonder why he had fallen apart but the others hadn't. He had heard some girls crying in other compartments, but there was no talk of anyone else fainting.

What's wrong with me? He thought. And who was screaming?

More questions and no answers. He thought for a moment and decided that he would talk about it with Professor Lupin. The professor seemed to know his stuff about dementors so he might have an explanation for the screaming.

Shortly thereafter, McGonagall had led Harry to see Madam Pomfrey. After insisting that he was fine and he had already been given chocolate, he was ushered away by Hermione. They made their way into the Great Hall, but the delay had caused them to miss the Sorting. They took a seat next to Ron and were as ready as their ever-hungry friend to tuck into the delicious food.

However, Dumbledore stood and welcomed everyone to Hogwarts before announcing that he had a few announcements. Harry could tell that Dumbledore was angry. The young wizard still wasn't sure how he felt about Dumbledore's negligence, but whatever was pissing the Headmaster off had to be bad.

"As you all know, there was indeed a dementor that was on the Hogwarts Express on its way here today," Dumbledore began. "The following very serious announcement will affect all of you for the coming year."

Harry felt his stomach drop. No. Please no.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Until further notice, Hogwarts will play host to the dementors of Azkaban who are here on Ministry of Magic business. They will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds. Nobody is to leave school without permission. dementors can see through tricks, disguises and even invisibility cloaks."

Harry glanced at Ron who silently gulped.

"It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleas for help or excuses," Dumbledore continued. "Do not give them any reason to harm you. I'm sure that our Head Boy and Girl and Prefects will help keep the rest of the students from interacting with the dementors."

Moving on to lighter things, Dumbledore announced Lupin's assignment to the DADA post and Hagrid's surprising assignment as the new teacher of Care of Magical Creatures. He did note that Snape was glaring at Lupin with an unusual amount of loathing, something normally reserved just for Harry. That would definitely be something to ask Lupin about whenever he got to speak with him about the dementor from the train.

After the feast was over, the Gryffindors shuffled up to their common room and most of them went straight to bed. A fire was already going and Harry decided that he could still use some warming up. After he sat down on the comfortable couch directly in front of it, he was pleasantly surprised to find Hermione placing herself right next to him.

His girlfriend held his hand and placed her head on his shoulder. "I was so worried for you."

Harry squeezed her hand. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You're just too stubborn to admit it. It's ok to feel weak about something or confused. You can be just Harry. You've always been that to me."

He grinned. "Would it help if I said that I'm planning on talking to Professor Lupin about it?"

He could feel her smile through his robes. "Yes, it would. I'm glad to see you have some sense."

After several minutes of silence, Harry noticed that it didn't seem awkward at all. Normally, whenever he or Ron didn't talk while they were sitting together, it felt awkward like they each should say something to kill the boredom. There was nothing like that with Hermione. It was almost like she was a part of him, and he surely couldn't miss that.

How am I supposed to explain that when it barely makes sense to me? I'll probably come off sounding like an idiot. Quick, Potter, think!

"I'm glad you're my girlfriend, Hermione," he said instead.

Oh, that was brilliant!

She raised her head and kissed him tenderly for over a minute. The softness of her lips sent a surge of warmth throughout his body so intense he could swear that if a dementor stood right next to him, he'd barely feel a cool breeze.

To someone else, it might seem a waste to be kissing that long without it turning into snogging, but they would be dead wrong. To Harry, it conveyed all of the passion, protectiveness, vulnerability and understanding that only Hermione could give him. With a start, he realized that she was his dream girl. Maybe someday he'd tell her that.

"Goodnight, Harry," she whispered before making her way up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

"Goodnight," he called back, hoping she heard him. Harry sat there for another ten minutes, contemplating his life since the summer began and the dementor on the train.

Eventually, Harry gave up his musings and went up to bed. With more than a little tossing and turning, he finally managed to get to sleep. The memory of Hermione's kiss definitely helped, and he made a mental note to tell her that first thing tomorrow.