Hi everyone! I'm so happy to present to you chapter fourteen of the third book! I'm so happy because there's not too much left before this story is done! And then it's on to the fourth book, wohoooooooooo! Well, I'm sorry this took a little while, but I love this chapter so very much, and I hope that you all like it too. I wasn't too sure of it at first, but with a little tweaking, I made it acceptable! ^u^ I'm so excited for you guys to read this, let me know if there's any comments or questions. Don't forget to review, enjoy!
Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter are not mine.
Chapter Fourteen: A Familiar Name
MPOV
This period of silence between Mia, Hermione, Ron and Harry lasted longer than anyone would have liked. Being in the same house as well as all the same classes, Mia saw Harry and Ron every single day, and she pretended not to see them every single time. At first it was so easy to stay mad at them, especially Harry. She refused to acknowledge their presence and they basically did the same for her and Hermione. However, as the days passed on, more of Mia's anger faded away, and she found herself spending more and more time thinking about her other two friends. As much as she couldn't stand to admit it…she was really starting to miss them. She missed Ron's jokes and Harry's laugh. There was no doubt they were the more comical members of their group, and not having them around made things a little too quiet. But as much as she missed them, she wasn't about to forgive them. Ron was just horrible to Hermione and Harry just rode off Mia's worries as if they didn't mean a thing to him—like he didn't pay any mind to the fact that she cared so much for his safety. So Mia continued through her days studying and working with Hermione, mostly in the library, and the two of them would sit quietly in their own little corner in the common room.
Mia also found comfort in her furry new friend. Ever since Mia had that visit with Hagrid, she has been meeting with Griff twice or even three times a week, mostly during her morning breaks before class started. She would always take some extra food from breakfast with her out onto the grounds, where she would sit on that fallen log by the edge of the forest and feed the food to Griff while she talked to him. She would talk about all kinds of things—her family, studies, friends, likes, and dislikes. She even talked to him about the disastrous event with Noah, and all the trouble it caused. Even though Mia always knew she had Hermione to confide in, it was different talking with Griff. She liked the idea that Griff could understand her, even though she knew otherwise, and it felt nice having someone to just listen. Mia would spend the whole hour just talking, ranting, or getting things off her chest, and Griff would sit at her feet, his head on her lap, and staring at her with his misty eyes. He would make a small noise every now and then, or wag his tail, especially when she mentions her friends. After a while, Mia even confided to Griff about her fight with Harry. As soon a she mentioned the ordeal with the Firebolt, Griff's demeanor changed, his ears flattened to his head, he made a soft whine, and he looked at her with softened eyes.
"Are you okay Griff?" Mia asked, scratching behind his ears. Griff just shifted his head and continued to stare at her.
"I wish you could tell me what was wrong," Mia said. "I wish you could tell me what I should do about all this. I'm just so mad at them, I only wanted to help. What if Black did send that broom and jinxed it? What if Harry fell off that broom, or even worse, it drove straight into the ground? But he just wouldn't listen, he doesn't even care that I worry about him, that I want him to stay safe. He doesn't understand how much he means to me…"
Griff made another whine and licked her hand.
"Thanks boy," Mia said, smiling softly. "I'm sorry I'm bothering you with all of this. I know Hermione is missing them too, but she won't admit to it. She's still so furious with them, she won't even spare them a glance. But I haven't either. This hasn't been the best year for us Griff. With Black still out there and the Dementors around the school, it's been hard on everyone, especially Harry. I just hope things get better."
Griff was always a good listener, even though he couldn't give Mia any sort of answers. Every time she saw him she felt happy, or at least happier than she's been lately, and whenever she had to leave she would give him a hug and watch him disappear into the forest. This routine continued on for a while, and so the beginning of the first month of the new term was not a very fun one at all. On top of all this, Mia was also growing concerned for Hermione. Now that they were back in school, Hermione was once again starting to feel the overwhelming work load of all their course material. Every night without fail she would have at least three books open on the table and was writing as much as four essays in a week. Mia was sure to help in any way, in case someone got suspicious. She knew there was no way anyone would ever suspect a Time-Turner, but she just wanted to be safe. She had even taken to carrying some of Hermione's books for her, as her bag seemed to split open at least once a week. On one of these days, Mia was standing outside in the corridor, holding some of Hermione's books while said witch was sitting at the base of a suit of armor, cramming whatever books she could into her bag. They had just finished their Defense Against the Dark Arts class and were on their way to dinner.
"You should try shrinking all your books Mione," Mia suggested. "It would make things a lot easier."
Hermione just smiled tiredly at Mia and didn't answer. Just as Hermione was cramming in the last of her books, they heard footsteps coming down the hall and Mia looked up to see Ron and Harry walking down the corridor. Mia just avoided eye contact with them as they walked past.
"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" Ron was saying. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?"
Hermione let out a loud and impatient "tuh" from where she sat, and Mia looked over at her. Mia was thankful that she and Hermione still seemed to be the only ones who have picked up on Professor Lupin's condition, and she would preferred that it stayed that way.
"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably.
"Nothing," said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.
"Yes, you were," said Ron. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you—"
"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority. Mia shot her a look that screamed "Don't say anything!" She didn't want to have Professor Lupin's secret spilled to the public.
"If you don't want to tell us, don't," snapped Ron.
"Fine! I'll see you at dinner Mia," said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off.
"She doesn't know," said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. "She's just trying to get us to talk to her again."
"Maybe if you took a moment to deflate your head you would remember that Hermione is the smartest witch in our year," Mia said, frowning at him. "She knows plenty more than you do."
Mia turned around and headed back down the corridor towards their Defense class. She was originally going to stay after to see Professor Lupin, but when she saw Harry walk up to him, she figured she would wait. Now, the class was entirely empty except for Lupin, who was sitting down at the teacher's desk, going through some papers and using one hand to rub his temple. He did indeed look ill, with his pale face, shadowed eyes, and he held himself differently, as if he was sore. This past full moon must have been a pretty bad one. Composing her face, Mia knocked on the door and Professor Lupin looked up.
"Hello Mia," he greeted with a smile.
"Hello Professor," Mia said as she walked inside. "I'm sorry to bother you."
"Not at all," Professor Lupin said, standing up. "I was just going through some papers before heading down to dinner. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Not really sir," Mia replied, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a bar of Honeyduke's best chocolate. "I just came to give you this."
Mia handed the chocolate bar over to Lupin, who took it carefully into his hand with a puzzled look.
"This is for me?" he asked.
"Yes," Mia said. "It's actually from me and Hermione—you haven't been looking too well, so we thought you would like it. Chocolate always cheers me up, and it's a pretty nice-sized bar, it should last pretty long."
Or at least until the next full moon, she thought to herself. Lupin smiled kindly at her.
"I really shouldn't take this Mia," he said.
"I know this is a little improper sir, but we thought it would make you feel better," Mia said. "We don't want you getting so ill that we have to deal with Professor Snape again."
Lupin laughed at that, shaking his head, and Mia could see the faintest of twinkles in his eyes.
"No, I suppose I could put you all through such torment again," he chuckled. "This is very kind of you Mia, thank you very much. I'm just about finished here, would you let me accompany you to dinner?"
"Of course sir," Mia answered. Professor Lupin smiled, placed the chocolate bar in his pocket, and began putting away some of the papers on his desk. Mia watched him, patiently waiting. She looked at some of the papers he was going through and managed to catch a glimpse of his signature at the bottom of official looking papers: Remus J. Lupin. So, Professor Lupin's first name was Remus. Mia thought it was a unique name, but then again, Professor Lupin was a unique man. She kept thinking it over in her head. Remus…Remus Lupin…
At that moment, a light bulb seemed to go off in Mia's head and her mouth dropped open slightly. She remembered—when Mia had first seen Professor Lupin's initials on his briefcase on the train, she was wondering why his name sounded so familiar to her. And now, something that Hagrid had told her two years ago was coming back to her. He had mentioned a Remus Lupin when he had given her the album they were making for Harry.
"Mind you, tha' Remus Lupin sent me most of 'em, he was happy ter help out."
"Remus Lupin?"
"Yeah, good ol' friend of Harry's dad," said Hagrid. "Went ter school with him, years ago."
"It's you!" Mia gasped.
"Sorry?" Professor Lupin said, pausing in his work.
"You're Remus Lupin," Mia said, excitement starting to grow in her voice. "You sent all those pictures of the Potters to Hagrid two years ago!"
Lupin looked absolutely stunned, staring at Mia for a long moment until comprehension dawned on his face and understanding shined in his eyes.
"You were the one making that album of Lily and James," he said softly. "Hagrid said you were making it for Harry."
"Yes," Mia said, nodding. "I made it for him as a gift, I gave it to him at the end of our first year. Sir, you have no idea how much you helped by sending those photos!"
"I was wondering what they were all going towards," Lupin said with a smile. "That was a very wonderful thing you did Mia. I was more than happy to help."
"Professor," Mia said slowly. "Those were a lot of pictures you sent. Did you know Harry's parents very well?"
Lupin's smile faded a little and he looked down at his desk. Mia instantly started to worry—did she say something wrong? Before she could apologize, Lupin spoke.
"Yes, I knew them," he muttered quietly. "Harry's father was one of my very best friends, we were in the same year when we went to Hogwarts. And his mother, Lily, was always so very kind to me."
"Professor Lupin," Mia said, taking a step forward. "I was hoping that I could find someone who really knew Harry's parents by collecting those pictures, not just someone who knew them because of what had happened that night. You've actually known them, their likes, dislikes, favorite things, and even the kind of clothes they wore. Why haven't you said anything to Harry? I'm sure it would mean the world to him if he could talk to someone about them."
"Mia," Lupin sighed, running a hand over his face. "You wouldn't understand. I haven't seen Harry since he was a baby, James was like my brother, and I…I couldn't…"
Lupin's voice sounded pained and Mia, instantly feeling ashamed, went red and bowed her head.
"I'm sorry sir," Mia said. "That's personal, and I had to right to question you. I just…I know Harry would love it if you could tell him more about them. I mean, he hardly knows enough as it is."
"What do you mean?" asked Lupin. Mia hesitated, choosing her words carefully. As mad as she was with Harry, she had no intention of breaking her promise to him about his life in Privet Drive.
"He and his relatives don't really see eye to eye," Mia said. "They never talked about his parents. Harry didn't even know what they looked like until our first year."
Lupin's brow furrowed at this and he looked like he was pondering over what Mia had said. Trying to get his mind off it, Mia said, "Professor, will you please talk to Harry? He wouldn't be mad at you, if that's what you think. If anything, I think he would be happy to know that there's another person who cares for him."
Professor Lupin stared at Mia for a long moment until he sighed once again.
"I'll think about it Mia," he said before giving her a small smile. "You know, Harry really is lucky to have such a good friend who cares so much for him. You remind me of his mother."
Mia blushed at the praise and she was dancing on the inside at the thought of Harry getting to talk to one of his parent's old friends. She was positive that Harry would be happy to hear some more stories about them, and about talking to someone from his past, someone who cares for him. Mia couldn't keep the beaming smile off her face as Professor Lupin finished putting his papers away and then the two of them left the room, heading down to the Great Hall. After about a minute of walking, Lupin spoke.
"You know, speaking of Harry, I couldn't help but notice that you two seemed to be avoiding each other recently," he noted. "Is everything all right?"
"No," Mia muttered, her smile disappearing. "We had a fight over something so pathetic, and he's being a stupid, stubborn idiot about it."
To Mia's surprise, Lupin started laughing softly.
"Merlin, history seems to be repeating itself," Lupin chuckled. "Would you like to tell me what happened? Maybe I could help."
"Unless you know a way for thirteen year old boys to stop whining over a stupid broom, than I highly doubt it sir."
….
Mia had felt very accomplished that she had found someone who could talk to Harry about his parents. She knew to let Lupin get around to talking to Harry in his own time—the subject was obviously a very sensitive one, and Mia wanted Lupin to be comfortable with it. She only hoped the two of them would talk soon. Lupin could give Harry something he never had before. Stories, stories about his parents, and she knew that would mean so much to him. So, despite still not speaking with Harry or Ron, Mia wore a happy smile for the next couple of days wherever she went.
On the Wednesday after Mia had spoken with Professor Lupin, Mia and Hermione were leaving their Ancient Runes class, making their way down to the Great Hall for some lunch. When the two of them reached the entrance hall, Mia heard a voice that made her stop in her tracks.
"Mia!"
Closing her eyes and sighing, Mia turned around and opened them to see Noah hurriedly making his way down the stairs, coming over towards her. For a moment she thought about ignoring him and continuing walking with Hermione to the Great Hall, but before she could decide to act on it, Noah was standing in front of her. His skin had returned to its normal color over the past few weeks, and his ears, nose and teeth were all back to their regular size. However, the scars remaining from the boils were not quite clear yet, and Mia could still make out the word toerag across his forehead. It took quite a long time for all the effects of Fred and George's prank to wear off, and Noah had to face the humiliation during all that time, along with his friends. While Mia felt slightly bad for them, she was still upset with Noah. She frowned upon seeing him.
"What do you want?" she said.
"Mia, please, can we talk?" Noah said.
"I have nothing to say to you," Mia said, starting to turn away.
"Mia, wait," Noah said, reaching out and gently taking her shoulder, making her turn back around to face him. Looking at him, Mia could see desperation in his eyes, and he looked so hopeless that it made her pity him a little. Sighing again, Mia looked over at Hermione.
"I'll be in in just a moment Mione," she said. Hermione nodded and then walked into the Great Hall by herself, glancing over her shoulder. Once Hermione was gone, Mia turned back to Noah.
"What do you want?" she repeated.
"Mia, I…I can't even begin to describe how sorry I am," Noah said, looking uncomfortable and incredibly guilty. "I shouldn't even be asking you for forgiveness, but I needed you to know how much I regret what I did. It was horrible and a cruel joke."
"Yes, it was," Mia said a little harshly. "You made me look like a complete fool, and you took advantage of me. I really liked you Noah, and you used that juts to get some money."
"I'm sorry Mia," Noah said, his voice thick. "So very sorry. It was supposed to be just a stupid bet at first, but the more time I spent with you, the more I actually cared about your feelings. I wasn't thinking, and I realized how much it would hurt you if I went through with the bet."
"Then why did you?" Mia asked. "Why didn't you just end it?"
"I didn't want to hurt you that way either," Noah replied. "Our last date in Hogsmeade, I was hoping that if I kissed you, I would feel something more than friendship, but…I didn't. I feel awful for saying it, but I realized that even though I cared for you, I didn't care in that way. I was going to end it after I met with Garus and told him to forget about the bet. Mia, I know you probably hate me, and I don't blame you in the slightest. What I did was hurtful, and I deserve every prank that the Weasleys throw at me. Even if you don't believe me, I just wanted to tell how truly sorry I am, and that if I could do it over, I would never have agreed to that bet."
Mia took a minute to just stare at Noah. Just from looking at him, Mia could see that he wasn't lying. His eyes were soft, and his entire demeanor was overflowing with shame and guilt…he really was sorry. Seeing that he was being truthful, and knowing that he probably received the proper punishment, Mia softened her glare.
"You really hurt me," Mia whispered. "I don't know if I can forgive you…"
"I understand," Noah muttered, looking utterly dejected as he hung his head.
"…at least not yet," Mia finished. Noah picked up his head again and Mia held up a hand before he could speak.
"Look, Noah, I see that you're sorry, and I'm glad you are. But it's going to take me a while before I can trust you or consider you a friend. What you did was really hurtful, and I just need time."
"I understand Mia," Noah said slowly. "Please, don't let what happened between us make you degrade yourself—you really are an amazing person. One day a really lucky guy is going to see that."
"Thanks," Mia said, giving him the faintest of smiles. "Well, I should get back with Hermione. And I'll tell Fred and George to cease fire before they do something to you guys again, all right?"
"Okay," Noah replied, nodding. "I'll see you around Mia."
"See you."
Mia watched as Noah turned around and started to walk back up the staircase. After a few seconds, she made her way into the great Hall, where she could see Hermione saving her a seat at the end of the table. Maybe things would get better after all.
HPOV
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off—"
The sounds of someone stumbling from a room—a door bursting open—a cackle of high-pitched laughter—
"Harry! Harry, wake up…"
Harry awoke to Professor Lupin tapping him hard on the face. Breathing heavily, Harry stared wildly around him, taking in his surroundings. He was lying on the floor in the History of Magic classroom, and it took him a moment to calm down and remember what he was doing there. Swallowing hard, Harry slowly sat up, wiping away some of the cold sweat from his brow. He and Professor Lupin was in the History of Magic classroom because Lupin had agreed to give Harry Anti-Dementor lessons, in case they were to show up again at the next Quidditch match. Professor Lupin had brought in a large packing case that held a Boggart inside it. Since they couldn't bring in a real Dementor, and since that was Harry's greatest fear, it would be a perfect replacement. Lupin said he would be teaching Harry the Patronus charm, a powerful positive force that is meant to drive away and repel Dementors. The Patronus must be conjured by a very happy and powerful memory. That memory alone is supposed to fuel the Patronus enough to get rid of Dementors.
However, Harry soon learned that it was much easier said than done. The first time he came into contact with the Boggart-Dementor, he was completely unprepared—he felt the same horrible cold effects that he felt when he was in the presence of a real one, and his mother's voice was screaming in his head louder than ever. Things were not that much easier on Harry's second attempt either. He succumbed to the darkness while trying to speak the proper incantation (Expecto Patronum), and instead of his mother's voice, that time he heard a different voice…a man's voice, shouting for Harry's mother to take him and run—James Potter. It was the first time Harry had ever heard his voice, and knowing that his father had tried to hold off Voldemort to give his mother time to get away brought tears to his eyes.
"I heard my dad," Harry told Lupin. "That's the first time I've ever heard him—he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it…"
Harry felt a tear start to roll down his cheek, so he quickly ducked his head down and wiped it on the sleeve of his robes so Lupin wouldn't see.
"You heard James?" said Lupin in a strange voice.
"Yeah," Harry answered, looking up. "Why—you didn't know my dad, did you?"
"I—I did, as a matter of fact," said Lupin. "We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry—perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced…I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this…"
"No!" said Harry, scrambling to his feet. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is. Hang on…"
Harry concentrated as he racked his brains, trying to think of a really good and powerful memory. A really, really happy memory…one that he could turn into a good, strong Patronus. After a moment of thinking, Harry finally thought of something. He remembered when he had first received his Hogwarts letter, telling him he would be leaving the Dursleys! Even more so, he remembered when he had found out Mia was going with him as well. All the excitement and happiness he had felt in that moment was coming back to him, and he gripped his wand tighter in his hand, focusing entirely on the memory. He faced the packing case once more, and Lupin, looking unsure, walked back over to the case and placed his hands on the lid.
"Ready? Concentrating hard? All right—go!"
Lupin pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the Dementor rose out of it. An instant cold swept through the room, and Harry immediately felt the chill in his bones. The Dementor hovered in the air, its black cloak billowing around it like a shadow, and its decayed hand slowly protruding from beneath the cloak…
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The screaming inside Harry's head had started again—except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio. Softer and louder and softer again…and he could still see the Dementor in front of him. It came to a sudden halt a mere three feet in front of him, and before Harry knew it, a blinding, huge silver shadow came bursting out of the end of his wand, creating a type of barrier between him and the Dementor. Harry could feel the energy start to drain from his body, but he pushed himself to keep up the barrier, concentrating hard on that memory. The Dementor tried to penetrate through the barrier, but to no avail, and Harry wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to keep it up.
"Riddikulus!" roared Lupin, springing forward.
There was a loud crack, and Harry's cloudy Patronus vanished along with the Dementor. Harry's wand arm fell limply to his side, and his legs were so shaky that he found himself falling into a chair, completely exhausted.
"Excellent!" Lupin said, striding over to where Harry sat. "Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!"
"Can we have another go? Just one more go?"
"Not now," said Lupin firmly. "You've had enough for one night. Here—"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large piece of what looked like Honeydukes' best chocolate. He handed it to Harry, smiling.
"Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood," he said. "Same time next week?"
"Okay," said Harry. He took a bite of the chocolate and watched Lupin extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Dementor. A thought had just occurred to him.
"Professor Lupin?" he said. "If you knew my dad, you must've known Sirius Black as well."
"What gives you that idea?" Lupin asked sharply, turning very quickly.
"Nothing—I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too…"
"Yes, I knew him," he said shortly. "Or I thought I did."
Professor Lupin went quiet for a moment and Harry could see the wheels in his head turning. He looked hesitant to say something, and after a few seconds, he looked back over at him.
"Harry," he said. "You know, when I said that your father and I were friends at Hogwarts…I mean he was one of my best friends."
"What?" said Harry. "You guys were best friends?"
"Yes," said Lupin. "He was one of my very best friends at Hogwarts. We were even friends after school, and the time you were born."
"Really?" Harry asked, a smile forming on his face. "So you really knew him?"
"Very well," Lupin replied, smiling again. "I would come over often to visit him, you and Lily."
"Why didn't you say anything before?"
"I'm sorry Harry, I just—after you parents died, I felt like I had lost my only friends. I wanted to come and see you, but due to certain circumstances…well, I figured you wouldn't want me there complicating your life."
"You wouldn't have complicated it sir," Harry said. "I don't know much about them at all, I've never met anyone who was actually friends with them before. Can you tell me more about them? Please?"
"Soon Harry, I promise," Lupin said. "It's getting late, you should get to bed. I'll see you in class."
"Thank you professor," Harry said, standing up from the chair. "Goodnight."
Just as Harry stood up and started to leave the room, Lupin spoke again.
"And Harry?"
"Yes sir?"
"I know it's really none of my business," Lupin said. "But you should probably try talking things over with Mia and Hermione. I would hate to see such a strong friendship being broken."
Harry's face fell a little, but nonetheless, he nodded at Lupin and then left the classroom, his mind starting to wander. As much as he didn't want it to, not talking to Mia was eating away at him. He missed her so very much, Hermione as well. He knew that they were only trying to help, but he couldn't help being angry—he had been the owner of the best broom in the entire world for only a few precious hours, and then it was taken away to go through a series of tests. He was positive that Sirius Black couldn't have sent that broom, but the girls seemed to think differently. Not too long after their fight, Harry found himself becoming less and less angry, and he realized that was being a little unfair. He and Mia had spent years looking after one another, it was only natural for them to think about the other's well-being. Not having her around was strange and unsettling. Ron was great and his best male friend, but he hated being on such rocky terms with Mia. But he honestly wasn't sure how to go about fixing it. Mia and Hermione barely even gave him or Ron a second glace anymore, and they've been avoiding each other so much, he wasn't sure if they would even want to listen to him.
Sighing heavily, Harry starting walking up the main staircase to the seventh floor. The start of term wasn't the best one. His Firebolt is confiscated, he and Mia weren't speaking to each other, he's attempting to learn a spell that not even all fully grown wizards can master, and the worst part, after this Anti-Dementor lesson, Harry made the realization that even though he wants to learn how to ward off Dementors, he also wanted to hear his parents' voices more than ever. It was wrong, he knew it, but going against a Dementor was the only time he could hear them, despite the fact that it was their final moments. Hearing his parents brought out so many emotions within him, and he irritably shook them off—he can't want to hear them, or he will never be able to cast a fully powered Patronus.
"They're dead," he told himself sternly. "They're dead and listening to echoes of them won't bring them back. You'd better get a grip on yourself if you want that Quidditch Cup."
Shaking his head, Harry continued making his way back up to Gryffindor Tower, looking forward to a good night's rest.
…..
January slowly faded into February, and the days were not getting any warmer. Ravenclaw and Slytherin faced off against each other in the first Quidditch match of the season, and Slytherin had won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too, so he therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This was maddening for Harry, who now had Quidditch, classes, homework, and his Anti-Dementor lessons to worry about all at the same time. So once a week he dedicated the entire night to getting all of his homework done, and with everything else he had going on, he wasn't sleeping very well.
However, as busy as he was, he was nowhere near as busy as Hermione. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes. She barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted. The only person she allowed in her company was Mia, and even she didn't speak much unless Hermione spoke first.
"How's she doing it?" Ron muttered to Harry one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape.
"Doing what?"
"Getting to all her classes!" Ron said. "I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermione can't've been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she's never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she's never missed one of them either!"
It was indeed a mystery as to how Hermione was able to get to all of her classes. Harry also suspected that Mia might know how she was doing it, but he didn't bother asking. He had too much to focus on instead of Hermione's impossible schedule. And to make things worse, the next Quidditch game was coming up faster than Harry would have liked, and he still didn't have his Firebolt back. He had taken to asking Professor McGonagall about it after every Transfiguration lesson, but she always told him that they were still examining it, and he would have it back soon.
The only thing that Harry could really look forward to was his Anti-Dementor lessons with Lupin. Not so much as trying to produce a true Patronus, which was going nowhere, but more so he could hear more about his parents. Ever since their first lesson, Lupin would answer any questions that Harry had, which tended to spill out from his mouth like a never-ending stream. He had learned some of his mother's favorite books, his dad's position as a Chaser on the 70's Gryffindor team, their first date, and their favorite classes.
"James had quite the talent for Transfiguration, but Lily's gift was in Charms," Lupin had told him one time. "Once, James had annoyed her so badly she turned his hair pink and lavender for a full week straight, refusing to do the counter spell."
Hearing about his parents made Harry happier than he's been in a while, but it also had a down point—the secret wish to hear their voices grew, and it made it all the more harder to produce a proper Patronus during the lessons, which made Harry angry with himself. He wanted to be able to protect himself, but he wouldn't be able to if he wanted to hear his parents. In the fifth week of their lesson, Harry only managed to create that same whisp of silver cloud, and it took all he had just to keep it up, making him even angrier.
"You're expecting too much of yourself," said Professor Lupin, sternly. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"
"I thought a Patronus would—charge the Dementors down or something," said Harry dispiritedly. "Make them disappear—"
"The true Patronus does do that," said Lupin. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."
"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," said Harry.
"I have complete confidence in you," said Lupin, smiling. "Here—you've earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks. You won't have tried it before—"
Lupin put his wand away and reached into his briefcase, pulling out two bottles filled with a foamy golden liquid, and Harry, without thinking, said, "Butterbeer! Yeah, I like that stuff!"
Lupin raised an eyebrow and Harry mentally kicked himself, thinking fast.
"Oh—Ron, Mia and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade the last time they went," Harry lied quickly.
"I see," said Lupin, though he still looked slightly suspicious. "Well—let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher…"
"Your secret's safe with me sir," Harry said, taking the butterbeer from Lupin and taking a sip. The two of them sat together in silence for a while, drinking their butterbeer, until Harry asked something that had been on his mind for quite some time.
"What's under a Dementor's hood?"
Professor Lupin lowered his bottle thoughtfully.
"Hmmm," said Professor Lupin quietly. "Well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor lowers its hood only to use its last and worst weapon."
"What's that?"
"They call it the Dementor's Kiss," said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and—and suck out his soul."
"What?" Harry said, choking a bit on his drink. "They kill—?"
"Oh no," said Lupin. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no… anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever…lost. It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry has given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him."
Harry sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then he thought of Black, and everything that he had done. Murdering all those innocent people, handing his parents over to Voldemort…
"He deserves it," he said suddenly.
"You think so?" said Lupin lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"
"Yes," said Harry defiantly. "For…for some things…"
Harry would have liked to have told Lupin what he had overheard in the Three Broomsticks, but then he would have had to admit that he had snuck out of the castle when he wasn't supposed to, as well as getting Fred and George in trouble if he was forced to tell about the Marauder's Map. So he kept silent as he finished his butterbeer, and once he was done, they both packed up their things and then left the classroom together. Harry bid Professor Lupin goodbye as he headed up the staircase, intending on going back up to the common room. While he was walking, he was going over what Lupin had just told him. He half-wished he didn't ask what was underneath a Dementor's hood, for the answer had been so horrible. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have your soul sucked out of you from your mouth, and he was so engrossed in his thoughts that he wasn't paying attention to where he was going, and he walked straight into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs.
"Do watch where you're going, Potter!"
"Sorry, Professor," Harry muttered. "I was just on my way back to the common room."
"I've just been looking for you there, " said McGonagall. "Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all—you've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter."
Harry's jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever, gleaming in the light of the torches, everything about it still utterly perfect.
"I can have it back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter—do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night. Now go on and get back to the common room, I daresay your friends will want to see it.""
Completely speechless, Harry numbly thanked Professor McGonagall and then hastily made his way up the stairs, his heart thumping with excitement. He got it back! He was going to be able to use the Firebolt in the game! As he turned a corner leading to the seventh floor corridor, he saw Ron dashing toward him, grinning from ear to ear.
"She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?"
"Yeah… anything," said Harry, his heart lighter than it had been in a month. "You know what— we should really make up with Hermione and Mia. We were really harsh on them, and they were only trying to help."
"Yeah, all right," said Ron. "Hermione's in the common room now, working for a change."
Harry and Ron made their way to the portrait entrance, where they found Neville, who was pleading with Sir Cadogan to let him inside.
"I wrote them down!" Neville was saying tearfully. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"
"A likely tale!" roared Sir Cadogan before, spotting Harry and Ron. "Good even, my fine young yeomen! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"
"Oh, shut up," said Ron as he and Harry drew level with Neville.
"I've lost the passwords!" Neville told them miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"
"Don't worry about it Neville. Oddsbodkins," said Harry to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let them into the common room. The minute Harry had stepped inside with his Firebolt, everyone's heads turned towards him, and then he was being surrounded by admirers in half a second. Everyone wanted to look at it and touch it, so it was nearly impossible for Harry to make his way through the crowd. It seemed to take forever for Harry and Ron to get on the other side of the common room, and that's where they found Hermione, who was, of course, flicking through a huge thickset volume. She looked up at them as Harry and Ron made their way over to her.
"I got it back," said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt.
"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.
"Well—there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"
"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry. "I'd better put it upstairs."
"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."
As Ron took the Firebolt and carried it upstairs, Harry asked Hermione if he could sit with her, to which she agreed. Harry observed all the books and parchment that was on the table, amazed and stunned at the workload Hermione had put upon herself.
"Where's Mia?" he said after a minute, looking to see if he could find her.
"She's in the library doing some research," Hermione replied. "She should be back soon."
"Okay. Hermione, how are you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked her.
"Oh, well—you know—working hard," said Hermione.
"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry said.
"I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalized.
"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.
"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly. "It's my favorite subject! It's—"
Exactly what made Arithmancy so wonderful, Harry didn't find out, because at that moment, there was a strangled yell that came from up the boy's staircase. No one even had time to figure out what happened, because at that moment, a door burst open and Ron came stomping down the stairs, his face red with the outmost anger, and he was dragging a bedsheet behind him. He stormed over to the table where Harry and Hermione were sitting, and shoved the bedsheets in her face.
"LOOK!" he bellowed, practically seething.
"Ron, what—?"
"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"
Harry looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it, something that looked horribly like—
"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?!"
"N—no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.
Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. She and Harry leaned forward to see that lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.
"And that's not even the best part!" Ron shouted, steam coming from his ears. "That second furry monster was clawing at the sheets, probably looking for whatever remains your blasted cat left of Scabbers!"
"Ron," Hermione said, trying to find her voice. "Scabbers might have cut himself—"
"HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THESE HAIRS?!" Ron hollered. "HE DIDN'T CUT HIMSELF—YOU'RE BLODDY CAT ATE HIM! HE ATE MY RAT! I SAID TO KEEP AN EYE ON HIM, AND NOW HE'S DIGESTING MY PET! WHY COULDN'T YOU STOP BEING SO STUCK UP ABOUT YOUR PRECIOUS MONSTER AND LEAVE HIM IN YOUR DORMITORY?!"
With that being said, Ron turned and marched back up the staircase leading to the boy's dorms, and the common room was deadly silent. Hermione looked abashed and bewildered, as if she could not believe what had just happened. The silence was only broken when the portrait opened and Mia came inside, her nose in a book and her bag on her shoulder. When she stepped inside, she lifted her head and gave a confused, puzzled look at the terrible tension that was in the room.
"Did I miss something?" she asked.
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