For the next couple of days, the break in was all anyone could talk about. Rumors grew and became more ridiculous with each new idea. Hannah Abbott spent most of their next Herbology class telling anyone who would listen that Black could disguise himself as a potted plant.
When the Gryffindors were allowed to return to the tower, it was to see that the Fat Lady's portrait had been removed, and replaced with Sir Cadogan. A psychopathic knight, who enjoyed spending more time challenging people to duels and thinking up absurdly complicated passwords, than actually letting anyone into the tower.
But the lunatic in the painting was the least of Harry's worries. His teachers seemed far more on edge, and had begun making the habit of following him in the halls. Professor Jackson in particular, seemed to have taken to shadowing Harry whenever he could, and Harry could have sworn that he'd seen Mrs. O'Leary watching him from the shadows on more than one occasion. But every time he tried to get a look at her, she seemed to disappear into nothing. It all came to a head when a very morose looking Professor McGonagall held Harry back after class.
"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter," she said in a very serious voice. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black-"
"Is after me, I know," Harry said, "Professor Jackson told me about it this summer. I already promised him I'd be safe.
Professor McGonagall seemed very taken aback. She stared at Harry for a moment, then said,
"I see! Well, in that case, Potter, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be going into Hogsmeade until Black is caught,"
Harry gaped at her.
"What?" He exclaimed, "But-but professor!" He exclaimed, unable to believe how unfair that was,
"But nothing, Potter." Professor McGonagall said sternly, "Sirius Black is dangerous, and while you are inside the castle, then you are protected. I know this is difficult, but this is for your own safety Potter."
She dismissed him, and Harry stormed out of her office. He could not believe that she was taking away Hogsmeade trips from him. It was wildly unfair. Why was everyone treating him as though he were some fragile glass doll? Had he not proved that he could look after himself?
But a little voice in the back of his head spoke up; but he couldn't take care of himself. Not yet, anyway. He had needed others to fight his battles for him on more than one occasion. But he was rectifying the situation. He was getting stronger, he was getting better. He resolved to redouble his efforts in his training. He wouldn't let anyone fight his fights for him, never again. He hated being treated like he was so fragile. First Professor Lupin, then McGonagall, none of his professors, except maybe Professor Jackson, thought he could handle things for himself. He would prove them wrong; he would prove them all wrong.
BREAK
"She did what?" demanded hotly at lunch. Harry had just finished explaining what Professor McGonagall had said, "She can't take away Hogsmeade, that's barbaric!"
But Hermione was worrying her lip in thought. She looked like she wanted to say something, but was refraining.
"You agree with her, then?" Harry asked dryly, unable to keep some of the bitterness from his voice.
Hermione jumped, and couldn't quite meet Harry's eyes,
"Well…Harry, I mean he just broke into the castle! He nearly got into Gryffindor Tower! What would have happened if he had gotten in and we hadn't been down at the feast?" She looked nearly on the verge of tears again, and Harry felt some of his annoyance leave him at her worry. He knew that Hermione was just scared for him, but he was getting sick of people treating like he was weak.
"Don't think I can take care of myself, Hermione?" Harry asked, coldly. Hermione flinched,
"Hermione," Ron said, coming to Harry's defense, "Harry's better than either of us with that defense stuff! If anyone can look after themselves, it's him."
Hermione, not liking being teamed up on, just averted her eyes. But Harry didn't think they'd changed her mind in the slightest.
Checking his watch, Harry quickly downed the rest of his pumpkin juice and got out of the hall, he had to get to quidditch practice. In spite of the torrential rains, and gale force winds, Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor team, was insisting on them practicing harder than ever before. But if Harry had been hoping for quidditch to take his mind off of things, he would be sorely mistaken. Wood told them that, because of Malfoy's injury, the Slytherin team had petitioned Dumbledore for a schedule switch, and so Harry and his team would no longer be taking on Slytherin in their first match, but rather Hufflepuff. It was simply the cherry on top of an already terrible week.
At least until the night two days before his first match. The full moon was that night which meant that Harry needed to make his monthly roll for History of Magic. But when he'd rolled the die, he looked down to see a large number nine, staring up at him. To Harry's surprise, the die opened up, and a slip of paper flew out at him. Harry quickly checked around his place in the Common Room. Ron and Hermione were both too engrossed in their Divination homework to see Harry's roll. Quickly smoothing out the paper, and placing it in his History of Magic text to make it look like he was engrossed in his assignment. He read the message on the paper.
"Whoops! Looks like someone has lost their mind! Well little puppy, time for you to go mad. You feel your bones break, you feel your mind go numb, as you are overcome with an overwhelming urge to bite, to hunt. And you're hungry. So hungry. You need to eat, to feed, to consume. You look around the town, there is an innocent looking woman hunched over a water pail. It's late, and you are sure no one will see as you attempt to drag Lavender Brown into the forest."
A second slip of paper shot out of the die, and into his hand. It had Lavender's name on it, and told her that she'd just been consumed by a werewolf.
Harry felt anxiety well up inside of him, as he looked up and cast a sidelong glance at Lavender Brown. She was in a very deep conversation with her friend Pavarti. How was he supposed to slip her the paper without either of the girls noticing? His mind jumped to the invisibility cloak in his bedroom, and he made his decision. The Common Room was crowded, but not so bad as to make it impossible. Making an excuse to slip upstairs, Harry left the Common Room and climbed the stairs to his dormitory. The inside was blissfully empty. Digging through his trunk, he pulled his father's invisibility cloak out of his trunk. Inspiration struck him before grabbing a filibuster firework, and pulling on the cloak. He crept down the stairs, having to press himself tightly to a far wall so as to avoid detection when a pair of fifth years climbed the stairs around him.
Slipping into the Common Room, Harry walked to the far side of Lavender, careful to avoid hitting anyone or anything. He tucked the firework into a corner before lighting it and hurrying away to the other side of the room. The firework exploded, and people screamed, but the screams of terror turned into shrieks of delight as everyone began clapping as sparks and stars danced around the common room. The distraction worked, as both Lavender and Pavarti's attention turned away to look at the chaos. Moving quickly, Harry pulls his paper free, and tucked it into Lavender's book. His job done, Harry made his escape from the Common Room. Once in the dorm, he ripped the cloak off, threw it back into his trunk, and pulled a random book out of his trunk.
He made his way down to the Common Room, doing his best to appear confused when he saw the chaos still occurring. He took a seat in his chair across from Ron and Hermione,
"What's happening?" Harry asked,
"Fred and George must have left one of their fireworks near the fire," Ron said with a laugh, watching as the last of the sparks fizzled out, "One of them just went off,"
"Honestly," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes, "Those two need to be more careful, someone could have gotten hurt!"
They were distracted, however, when Lavender Brown let out a shriek,
"I've been killed!" She shouted, waving the paper Harry had slipped her in the air, "I've just been attacked and killed by a werewolf! Oh, this stinks! I was having so much fun too!" A group gathered around her, and Harry joined Ron and Hermione in the throng of students. Harry did his best to appear confused and excited, but he couldn't help noticing the way Hermione was eyeing him warily.
"Did you see who did it?" Dean Thomas asked, but when Lavender tried to say something, no noise came from her mouth. They all stared at her in confusion as she just mouthed wordlessly. The paper then flew up into the air, and it folded itself into the shape of a mouth,
"Now, now," It said in Professor Jackson's voice, and Harry could have sworn he could hear the smile in the man's voice, "No spoilers. We'll discuss it class." Then the paper burst into flames.
"Lavender?" Pavarti asked, "Can you speak?"
"Can you hear me?" Lavender asked shrilly,
"Ooooh," Hermione gasped excitedly, "It a tongue locking curse. I'm guessing if you try and talk about it, your tongue will tie up and you won't be able to say anything!" She babbled,
Harry, feeling thoroughly proud of himself, just returned to his chair, listening as the others began rapidly discussing what they thought happened, as accusations were tossed around the room. When he looked back down at his textbooks however, there was another message on the paper.
"Excellent work, you successfully avoided capture and no one spitted you. With the flesh of a fresh kill sitting warmly in your stomach, the madness ebbs away. But it's getting more difficult to control yourself. When you change back you feel sick. You're pale, and sweaty. You look like you haven't slept in days. Your assignment, due in one week, is to look up the nature of Werewolves, their effects on the body, and how, in your opinion, your character would explain away the effects to curious and scared townsfolk."
Smirking slightly at how much fun Professor Jackson clearly had in creating the project, Harry got to working on his assignment. He might not be able to go to Hogsmeade, but there were still ways Harry could have fun.
BREAK
Harry was in for a surprise the following day as he strode into Defense Against the Dark Arts ten minutes late. Wood had distracted him by giving him too much advise on how the Hufflepuff seeker, Cedric Diggory, liked to play. Harry had run through the doors at a dead sprint, but was surprised to see that, not Professor Lupin, but Professor Jackson, was standing at the front of the room.
"Professor?" Harry asked, confused,
"Glad you could join us, Harry," Professor Jackson said, though he seemed more amused than anything, "Have a seat, I was just telling the rest of the class that Professor Lupin is feeling a little ill, and I'll be filling in for him until he's feeling a little better."
Harry hurriedly grabbed his seat next to Ron and Hermione. Professor Jackson, it turned out, was equally as adept at teaching about dark magical creatures as he was about History. It was a thoroughly enjoyable lesson about Hinkypunks. Tiny one-legged creatures that lure travelers into bogs before killing them. But Harry was distracted during the entire lesson. He couldn't help but wondering exactly what it was that caused Professor Lupin to fall ill so suddenly. Maybe he was just susceptible to it. He always did look far paler and more fragile than most. Something he'd read the night before stuck out in his mind,
"For those cursed with Lycanthropy; the morning after their transformation can be just as bad as the transformation itself. If they'd eaten the night before, the cursed person typically regurgitates their victim over the next day. Victims of Lycanthropy often appear ill. They have a pallid complexion, and frequently have the appearance of someone suffering from the flu."
But…that couldn't be - no, Harry was doing it again. He was butting his nose into things he shouldn't be, and was jumping to conclusions. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and tried to drive the idea from the back of his mind and turned his attention to the class, and to the match the next day.
Harry always awoke earlier than normal on game days. He typically chalked it up to nerves. Throwing on his robes, Harry made to leave the dormitory, when he had to bend down and yank Crookshanks out by the tail. The damned cat had been taking every opportunity to sneak into their room when he could. On more than one occasion it had even attacked Ron, in an effort to get to Scabbers, Ron's pet rat. Hermione insisted that Crookshanks was doing nothing wrong, but Harry was of the same mind as Ron, that if Hermione didn't get a hold of the cat, Scabbers would be gone before too long.
Before he knew it, he was marching with his team, through the horrific hurricane onto the field. It was the worst weather Harry had ever played in. Even after Hermione had cast an impervious charm on his glasses, it was almost impossible for him to see. He was soaked to the bone, and was so cold that he was worried about catching hypothermia. The match seemed to be going on for hours, and still, Harry had not been able to find the snitch.
Then, in the light cast by a flash of forked lightning, he saw it. A glimmer of gold, over by the teacher's box, with a pang of panic, Harry saw that Diggory had seen the snitch too, as he began tearing after it. Harry flattened himself to his broom, urging it onward and to move faster. He was gaining on Diggory. They were about level with one another when it happened.
An eerie, calm silence, descended on the pitch. It was as though the rain had gone silent, and the roar of the crowd was deafened. The handle of Harry's broom grew colder still, looking down, Harry saw that a layer of ice was creeping up the sides of the handle. He thought he saw something moving down on the field below, but before he could get a proper look at it, the horribly familiar cold washed over him.
His vision started to go black, and he felt once more, as though he'd been plunged into dark, icy water. He managed to hold onto himself long enough to look down. There, flying up to him from the field below, were at least a hundred, black-hooded, dementors. His heart started hammering, he tried to get away, but his vision was fogging once more. He felt his grip on the handle of his broom go slack, as voices began screaming in his head.
"Not Harry, not Harry, please, not Harry."
"Stand aside, you silly girl, stand aside."
"Not Harry, please, no, take me, kill me instead, but spare my baby, please"
The screaming started. Harry was dimly aware that it felt as though he were falling. What was happening, who was the woman, why was nobody helping her? She was going to die, and the baby…the baby Harry…Him? Was that him, did that mean?
A pair of new voices cut in through the fog, sounding as though they were coming from miles away,
"EXPECTO PATRONUM"
There was a flash of light, Harry felt his body slow and he hit something soft. Then blackness covered his vision, and he knew no more.
BREAK
"We're lucky the ground was so soft,"
"Thought he was dead for sure, he was just lying there,"
"Yeah but Dumbledore stopped him, look, he didn't even break his glasses,"
Harry could hear the voices, but what they were saying was making no sense to him. He didn't know where he was, aside from the fact that he was warm, and laying on something very comfortable. He was aching everywhere, it felt as though someone had taken a beater's bat and clobbered every inch of him they could. Slowly, he opened his eyes. For a moment, he was blinded by the white light, but quickly he adjusted, and he could just make out around eight faces looking down at him in concern,
"He does look a bit peaky, though doesn't he?
"Peaky?"
"He fell nearly a hundred feet,"
"Yeah, Ron, how about we throw you off the Astronomy Tower,"
"And see what you look like."
"Probably a damn sight better than he does normally," Harry heard himself say, his voice sounded very hoarse. His vision cleared and he could see his entire team gathered around his bed looking incredibly worried. Ron and Hermione stood at the foot of his bed, looking like they'd just climbed out of the bath, and both looking horrible. Hermione's eyes were red and looked as she'd only recently stopped crying.
"Harry," Breathed Fred, some color returning to his pale, mud-splattered cheeks. "How're you feeling mate?"
"Brilliant," He said, shuffling around as he tried to get comfortable, Katie Bell put a hand on his chest, and forced him back into the pillows. With the help of Alicia Spinnet, they propped him up on a pair of pillows.
"Please don't joke right now Harry," Katie said, she looked incredibly pale, and her eyes were wide and puffy as though she'd been crying. Angelina Johnson was nodding firmly behind her, and Alicia too looked miserable.
"Scared the devil out of us Harry," Alicia said, "You had to have fallen over a hundred feet," She shuddered, "That was horrible. You were just lying there on the ground,"
"Sorry," He said, as a feeling of shame washed over him for having worried so many people. Though, he couldn't quite stop the swell of happiness that threatened to spread across his face at the knowledge that the team had been so concerned for him. "I didn't mean to worry you."
"I have a feeling you'll be saying that a lot, Harry, you can't seem to get out of bed without turning it into a fight," Katie said, sitting herself down in the chair next to him,
"Too right mate," Fred said,
"Though you do know how to keep things entertaining," George added,
Harry gave them a smile, then looked them all over, "So what happened?"
"You fell," said George simply, "Must have been, what? hundred feet?"
"If not more," Said Fred,
"We'd thought you'd died," Alicia said with a shudder,
"But Dumbledore slowed you down as you fell, cast some spell at you and you slowed down as you hit the ground." Angelina said,
Harry furrowed his brown, as he tried replaying the match in his head. Why did he fall off? He'd never fallen before. He remembered chasing Diggory, remembered the sudden cold, remembered looking down and seeing…
"The dementors," Harry breathed out, and Katie twitched next to him,
"Had to be a hundred of the damned things," Ron said with a shudder, "They just appeared out on the pitch, and they all seemed to go after you."
"You were too high for us to see," Hermione said, "But I saw Professor Jackson and Professor Dumbledore stand up, they shouted something and that silver wolf appeared out Professor Jackson's wand again, and Professor Dumbledore summoned this big bird thing. They chased the dementors off, but you had already fallen."
That explained the shot and sudden light Harry had heard before he'd hit the ground.
"But the match?" Harry asked, and as one the entire team flinched and averted their eyes. Harry felt his stomach drop out from under him. "We didn't…we didn't lose…did we?"
"Diggory got the snitch, just after you fell," Angelina explained, "After the dementors were gone he tried to call it off. But Hooch was adamant that it was a legal catch."
Fred said something foul under his breath, and shared a look with George. Harry would have felt bad for the flying instructor for her future, if he hadn't been so mad.
"But the dementors!" He insisted. How could it be legal with such blatant interference,
"She says while unfair, it's not without precedent." Alicia said bitterly,
Harry had never felt so terrible. In all his matches, he had never once failed to catch the snitch. They had lost. They had lost and it was all his fault.
His thoughts must have shown on his face because Katie, pat his arm gently, and said, "This is not your fault Harry,"
"Yeah," Said Fred at once, "Those things were targeting you; not even Victor Krum could have caught the snitch in conditions like that."
Harry didn't know who Victor Krum was, but he assumed he must have been a seeker of some kind.
It was then that Harry noticed they were missing one of their number,
"Where's Wood" He asked,
Fred snorted, "Still in the showers. We think he's trying to drown himself,"
"And-and what about my broom?" Harry asked, "Did someone get my Nimbus?"
Everyone winced at Harry's words, and Harry felt something in him snap slightly. Hermione and Ron shared a look, before Hermione shakily reached down, and grabbed something at her feet.
"Harry…" Hermione said as she cradled a large bag in her hands, "I'm so sorry, but when you fell, it well, it flew off and it hit - it hit…oh Harry. It hit the Whomping Willow.
Harry's stomach lurched painfully. He knew full well what would have happened to anything unfortunate enough to get with the Whomping Willows viscous branches.
"And?" He asked, his voice very dry.
"Well, you know the Whomping Willow, it - it doesn't really like getting hit," Ron said, not meeting Harry's eyes. Hermione reached into the bag, and pulled out the shattered handle of Harry's broom. Something inside Harry snapped, and he reached out with a shaking hand to grasp the shattered handle. He could still make out the Nimbus insignia on the tip.
Harry knew he shouldn't be as upset as he was. It had, after all, been just a simple broom. But at the same time, it had been so much more. Harry had so little that he could call his own. The Dursley's had only ever given him things second-hand; but the Nimbus 2000, had been his, truly his. One of the first things he could truly call his. It had been a present from Professor McGonagall, and he had treasured it as deeply as his wand. He fought back tears as his hands tightened around the handle. It was silly, but it was awfully similar to losing a friend.
He felt Katie clutch his wrist and give it a reassuring squeeze.
"It's ok Harry," She said softly, "We all know how much that broom meant to you, but it's ok. Better to have lost your broom, than to have lost your life, right? There are other brooms, but there's only one of you." She said, and Harry, who didn't trust his voice, simply nodded.
"Besides, it's not the end of the world," George said firmly,
"Exactly," Said Angelina, "We only lost by a hundred points,"
"So if Hufflepuff loses by-"
Harr tuned them out, lost in thought about the dementors. In spite of what professor Jackson had told him, Harry couldn't help feeling weak. It was the second time he'd fainted because of them; if things kept going, the way they were, then, well, Harry didn't want to think about what might happen the next time it happened. He remembered Professor Jackson saying there were ways around defeating a dementor. He decided that the second he was released from the Hospital Wing, he would track down the History professor and ask him to teach him how to protect himself from the dementors.
But Harry didn't need to go looking for Professor Jackson, because at that moment, the door to the infirmary opened and Professor Jackson, looking quite dry, with a very ill looking Professor Lupin marched into the room.
"Hey there, everyone," Professor Jackson said, as he munched on a very large chocolate bar. "We need a word with Harry here. Mind giving us the room?" It wasn't a question and they all knew it. Fred clapped Harry on the shoulder as they all stood up,
"We'll be by to visit you later," He said
"Yeah," Said Katie, giving him a bright smile, "And don't beat yourself up about it, Harry. You're still the best seeker Gryffindor has ever had."
With a final wave, the team left the Hospital Wing. Ron and Hermione gave each other a look, and looked like they were torn between leaving and demanding they stay,
"You two are welcome to stay," Professor Jackson said, as he slid into the seat Katie had vacated. Professor Lupin took up his other side.
Ron and Hermione looked relieved.
"How are you feeling, Harry?" Professor Jackson asked,
Harry shot a look at Ron and Hermione, the at Professor Lupin. He wanted to tell Professor Jackson the truth. But he didn't want to admit how he really felt in front of the others. He knew Ron and Hermione would never make fun of him for how he felt, but he refused to burden them with his problems. And Harry already looked bad enough in front of Professor Lupin, he didn't want the man to coddle him any more than he already did.
A warm hand shook his shoulder, and Harry met Professor Jackson's penetrating gaze.
"Harry, it's not a sign of weakness to admit when you're not ok. It is weakness, however, when you refuse to let others in to help you. You don't have to fight the world on your own. Not when there are others so willing to stand by your side." He said firmly.
It was all too much. Harry couldn't take it anymore. He'd been bottling it up for months, and the dam was bursting. He was so tired of feeling weak, tired of feeling so utterly helpless. He'd lost the match; he'd failed to get the snitch because he'd failed to be strong enough to fend off the effects of the dementors. But there was more, a revelation he'd had while sitting in the Hospital Wing about the screaming he'd been hearing. The revelation was so painful, so pitiable to Harry that he could hardly even handle it. Unable to keep all the pain, frustration and anger any longer, the words began to tumble from Harry before he could even think about stopping them,
"Why am I so weak?" He asked, "Why can't I stand up to them? Why do they keep affecting me so poorly? Why am I the only one who has to listen to his mother die, every time they come 'round."
Harry knew what it was he was hearing every time the dementors came around. He didn't really know how it was that he knew, but he knew that he was hearing his mother's final moments; her last, desperate pleas for mercy before Voldemort murdered her.
The room fell still, and Professor Lupin's face went chalk white. There were tears streaming down Harry's cheeks, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"And you know what's worse?" Harry asked, as Professor Jackson squeezed Harry's arm reassuringly, "Is that there's a part of me, that actually likes it. Likes, that I get to hear my mother's voice. How twisted is that? How pathetic am I, that I actually kind of like that I get to hear my mum's voice, even when it was the last words she ever said!"
Hermione was sobbing, her hands covering her mouth. Ron's fists were clenched so tight that his fingers were turning white.
"Harry," Professor Jackson said, forcing Harry to look at him, "Listen to me," He implored, as he placed both his hands on Harry's shoulders.
"You. Are not. Weak. Do you remember what I told you at the start of the year? These things affect people worst. whose past are filled with horrors that most couldn't begin to comprehend. That's why the effect you so poorly, because you have faced terrors that would make grown men cower. You faced them, and you have lived. You are not weak. As for...as for your mother,"
His features softened, and there was a flash of something in his eyes that looked like broken despair,
"Harry," Professor Jackson said, his voice quivering slightly, "Do you know what I hear, what I see, when the dementors come near me?" He asked, Harry shook his head, "I hear…I hear the woman I loved die. I see her final moments flash before my eyes. I see-" His grip on Harry started to quiver, and he shook his head.
"Her name was Annabeth. She was my best friend, and the love of my life. There isn't a day that goes by, where I don't miss her. Miss her making fun of me for doing something stupid, miss her for laughing at me, miss hearing the sound of her voice." He took a shuddering breath,
"I've been hearing her voice since my first encounter with those things. And you know what?" He gave Harry a bitter chuckle, "I love it. I love, that even for a moment, I get to hear her voice one more time. That I get to hear her say that she loves me before she dies. I love it. It disgusting, selfish, and abhorrent, but I do."
He exhaled slowly, and he relaxed his grip on Harry, "Do you think I'm weak, Harry? Do you think I'm pathetic? Because I covet something I'll never have again?"
Harry wiped at his eyes, and shook his head, "N-no sir. Never," he said defiantly, and truthfully. Which was the truth, he couldn't think of anyone who was the antithesis of weak, but Professor Jackson.
"Then why do you think so lowly of yourself? You're not weak, so why do you keep thinking you are?" He asked Harry, and Harry averted his eyes,
"No one else seems to think I can take care of myself," Harry heard himself mutter, but Professor Jackson just snorted,
"Harry there isn't a single person in this room who doesn't think you're capable of looking after yourself,"
"He doesn't," Harry said, pointing at Professor Lupin, who reared back as though he'd been slapped,
"What?" Professor Lupin asked in shock, "Harry, of course I don't think you're-"
"Then why didn't you let me face that boggart?" Harry demanded, his voice rising as he jumped from emotionally depressed to violently angry, "What, did you see me collapse on the train and think I was too fragile to do anything for myself,"
Lupin just stared at him, his mouth working soundlessly. When he finally did speak, he sounded broken,
"Harry, I would never think the son of Lily and James Potter, to be anything less than they were, and they were the strongest people I've ever met." He shook his head and collapsed into a chair, he looked exhausted, "I didn't let you face the boggart, because I was certain that it would take the form of Lord Voldemort." Hermione let out a squeak, and Ron flinched so badly he accidentally smacked Harry's leg. In spite of himself, Harry couldn't help feeling impressed that Professor Lupin had said Voldemort's name.
"I believed," professor Lupin continued, "That Voldemort appearing in the classroom would have been…unpleasant for your fellow classmates."
Harry fell silent. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting Lupin to say, but it had not been that.
"I…I did think of Voldemort, at first." Harry said, "But then…then I thought of the dementor. I thought of the screaming…"
Lupin looked speculative, before nodding slowly,
"I see…" Lupin said, looking thoughtful, "It appears that both of us have misjudged the other, Harry. I apologize," He said with a small, proud smile, "Do you know what that suggests to me?" Harry shook his head, "It suggests to me, that what you fear, most of all, is fear itself. That's very wise, Harry. You are very much like your mother in that respect,"
"You-you knew my mother?" Harry asked, feeling suddenly lighter than he had in days.
"I did," Lupin said, "Your mother, along with your father, were among the few to stand by me when no one else did. I can tell you about them sometime, if you like."
Harry nodded, unable to keep the eager smile off his face.
"As much as I enjoy this," Professor Jackson said, "And as cathartic as I'm sure this has been for you, Harry, I'm afraid that all of this," He gestured around the room, "Wasn't why we came here."
"Then-then why are you here, sir?" Harry asked, feeling suddenly very drained. The emotional roller coaster of the past several minutes catching up with him.
"The past several hours, have made something abundantly clear," Professor Jackson said, "The dementors do seem to have taken a particular liking to you. I know you were unconscious at the time but I want you to know just how furious Professor Dumbledore was when the dementors came onto the field today."
Ron and Hermione nodded in unison,
"Bloody terrifying." Ron said, "Never thought I'd hear Dumbledore yell like that," He added with a shudder,
"Indeed," Said Professor Jackson, "I don't doubt fear of Dumbledore's wrath will keep the dementors from doing anything again, but all the same, Dumbledore, Remus and I are of the opinion that because of their particular fondness of you, you need to learn to protect yourself from them."
Harry felt another surge of hope and excitement, but tried to control himself, "But, sir, I thought you said that it was too complex,"
"I didn't say too complex," Professor Jackson said with a frown, "I said that it was complex, and not something I'd teach you unless I thought you needed it. Now? After this," He waved a hand vaguely at Harry, "I believe you need it. Should the situation come where you are facing one of these things, I want you to be able to hold it off long enough to get help. Remus agrees, and wants to help,"
Professor Lupin gave a nod and a reassuring smile,
"Now," Professor Jackson said, "We'll get started next week, after you get out of here. We'll meet every Thursday in my classroom, Remus," He said, turning to the Defense Professor. "Knowing what his boggart is, are you thinking what I am?"
"Yes, I believe I am," Professor Lupin said thoughtfully, "I believe I remember Mr. Filch complaining about one just the other day, it should be no problem."
"Good," Professor Jackson said with a nod, then turned back to Harry, "Get better Harry, and meet us in my classroom next Thursday after dinner. Sound good?"
"Yes sir, thank you sir," Harry said nodding happily. He couldn't find the words to describe the relief that he was feeling. A lot of his fears, a lot of his anxieties, the things he'd been feeling since the start of term, had been addressed. Harry felt incredibly validated, and knowing that he would be learning to protect himself went a long way toward feeling like he was normal again.
Professor Jackson gave Harry's leg an encouraging pat, as he and Professor Lupin excused themselves from the room. They left the room, leaving Harry alone with his friends. Ron shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other as Hermione refused to meet Harry's eyes. There was an uncomfortable weight in the room, and Harry realized with a pang of anxiety, that he'd just revealed a lot of information he would have much rather his friends never hear.
"Harry," Hermione said carefully, "Why-why didn't you tell us?" She asked, still not meeting Harry's eyes, "Why didn't you talk to us about all of-all of this," She said with a vague wave of her hand.
It was Harry's turn to duck his head. He would have very much liked to have disappeared into his pillows at that moment, but he knew that there would be no getting out of the conversation,
"I didn't-" Harry said, his mouth growing very dry, "I didn't want to bother you…they were my problems, I didn't want to burden you with my stupid worries,"
"You absolute prat," Ron said, finally looking up at him, a fierce expression on his face. "We're your friends! After everything we've been through, did you really think we would run away because of any of this? That we'd what, abandon you?"
Harry refused to raise his head, but he nodded. Harry felt a sudden weight on the bed as Hermione wrapped her arms around him, and buried her face in his neck,
"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed, and he could feel fresh tears streaming down her face, "Ron's right. We wouldn't run away just because you talked to us. We're your friends! We want you to talk to us. We bother you with our problems, why would you think we wouldn't want you to do the same!"
Harry swallowed thickly. How did he explain that every time he tried to complain, or talk about himself or his feelings, the Dursley's punished him? How did he tell his friends that he couldn't risk pushing away the only people he'd ever been able to truly call his friends? He raised his eyes and he met Ron's gaze. His best friend nodded at him, before he strode over, and sat down on the side of the bed, and wrapped his own arm around Harry and Hermione.
The three sat there for a long time, holding one another, and as Harry leaned into his friends, he felt himself smile. It had been a long day, and he was sure there were many more long days yet to come. But he knew, with his friends by his side, and with the likes of Professor Jackson looking out for him. Harry could handle anything the world threw at him.
Even, a dementor.
AN: So Harry has like, a real human reaction to all of the shit that's been happening to him. That's pretty much all I have to say about this. Glad to see that so much of you have been enjoying this! Stay safe, stay healthy and thanks for all of the support!
Love,
LilDB