AN: Updated 7/18/21
Cold. Cold penetrated into Harry's skin, into his bones. Cold harsher than any he had ever felt, had ever dreamed of. A biting cold, so potent and consuming that he couldn't even muster up a shiver. Cold so deep he could feel himself shutting down, could barely blink or even think. Cold so devouring-
Warmth. Waves of cascading brightness and warmth, like a hug from a close friend. Like coming home after a long day. Warm like chocolate and sweaters and joking late at night. Knocking shoulders and wrapping arms around each other. Harry could barely see beyond the waves of pure love exuding from the creature across the icy lake. He could make out a shadowy figure, the barest glint of glasses reflecting light from the Patronus. The frozen surface of the lake cracked and Harry's body gave out, falling into the comforting dark of unconsciousness.
The last thought on the exhausted wizard's mind was, "Dad?"
Harry turned and looked back at a shocked Hermione, whose jaw was hanging open in disbelief.
"Well, um, that's that." He says weakly, shoving his hands into the pocket of his ratty jacket.
"Harry! That was- Merlin, Harry! Most adults can barely produce mist, much less drive off an entire dementor swarm. How did you know you could do that? Canyouteachme?"
"Hermione, stop it. It's not like- I'm not that great of a wizard. You're loads better than I am. And well, I knew I could do it because, well, I'd done it before." He says with a smile and a shrug.
"Why are you such a boy, "Hermione grouses. "That was reckless and dumb. But make no mistake, you are one heck of a powerful wizard, Harry." Hermione says firmly, "Now let's find Buckbeak and go save Sirius."
"Buckbeak!" Harry calls into some bushes. "Beaky!" he shouts again only for Hermione to swat his arm.
"Harry, there's a werewolf here. Do not go shouting into the woods. I'd rather not be killed or bitten. My parents would be horrified."
"Right. Sorry. Here Bucky!" He whispers, voice substantially lower. When the creature fails to appear, they kept descending the slope and calling out softly for him.
"Hey, here's a track from the Weasleys' Angelina." Harry says offhandedly, stepping over a dried rut of tire tracks in the mud. Hermione stops in place, sincerely dumbfounded.
"What?!" she says, the absurdity shocking her out of her quiet precautions.
"Er, right you weren't there. Um, so you know Ron and I missed the train last year, right?"
"I do. I spent nearly an hour searching for you, convinced that you weren't going to forget about me over the summer, even if you never responded to any of my letters. When the train left without you, I was nearly in tears." Hermione says primly.
"Yeah, sorry about that. But it wasn't our fault! Dobby blocked up the portal to the train, so Ron and I had to find another way to Hogwarts."
"I doubt this ends well." Hermione says.
"We sort of borrowed the Weasleys' car." Harry says.
"You drove all the way to Hogwarts?" she asks, torn between relieved and admittedly impressed.
"Ron did. Well, kind of. He forgot to turn it invisible for a while."
"Invisible?" She asks.
"Yeah, reckon the obliviators had a hell of a job explaining that to the muggles." Harry jokes.
"Underage driving isn't that uncommon, Harry."
"Yeah, but it was flying." Harry says as if that isn't the first time she is hearing of this.
"FLYING?!" Hermione yells.
"Bloody hell Hermione, what happened to being quiet?" Harry snaps in a whisper, looking around to see if her shriek had drawn unwanted attention of the extremely fury and even more hungry kind.
"You let Ronald Weasley fly you to Hogwarts in what I assume was a home enchanted car?" She hisses.
"Wasn't my best idea, but I didn't have a whole lot to work with now did I? They pulled me out of the Dursleys not a week before. Stole the bars right off the window."
"Harry I-" Hermione pauses, her face echoing a series of emotions and the strain of digesting and unpicking all of the things harry told her. "We have a lot to discuss when we're safe in the castle once more. A lot." She whispers firmly as a howl echoes through the forest.
"Okay." Harry agrees, shelving the topic. The two walk in quiet for a while before Hermione cracks.
"So you let Ron drive it to Hogwarts."
"Yeah, and then he crashed us into the Whomping Willow. It wasn't too happy with us and beat the snot out of the car before tossing us away. The Angelina ejected everything before driving off into the forest."
"You're lucky you weren't killed."
"Or expelled. Snape was the one to greet us." Harry adds. "So, later when Ron and I are searching for Aragog-"
"Aragog?" Hermione interrupts. "When I asked what all I missed being petrified last year, you told me not much. This sounds like a bit more than much already and I haven't even been petrified long yet."
"Is that part of why you were given the time turner, to help catch up?"
"That's probably what McGonagall told the ministry." She says before giving him an impressed and irritated look, "Don't try to change the subject!"
"Okay. Anyway, Aragog is Hagrid's acromantula friend. It got him expelled when Tom Riddle blamed Myrtle's death on him.
"Moaning Myrtle?" Hermione wonders, but stays quiet, lest Harry go off on yet another tangent.
Harry continues, "We went searching for him to find answers on what was petrifying the students. He wasn't what Hagrid told us he was, and he sort of sicced his brood on us. Said that he had them spare Hagrid due to their friendship, but all others were fair game. So we were running from the spiders-"
"Running? Aren't they just spiders? You could've stepped on them. Or if there were too many, incendio. Believe you me, I will remember that spell for the rest of my life after 1st year." Hermione says.
"You do know how big acromantulas are, don't you?" Harry asks quietly, almost regretfully.
"No, how big?"
"Well, Aragog was about the size of a lorry, and his brood ranged from regular to pony sized."
Hermione gasps, smacking his arm "And you went looking for these things?!"
"Hagrid said we should!" Harry yelps, rubbing his arm. "We didn't think they would attack! Hagrid hasn't tried to kill me yet-" Harry stops to think for a moment before continuing, "at least not intentionally. Looking back, Ron and I should have been more cautious- I mean Fluffy and Norbert weren't exactly safe."
"Aragog, as you called him, would be the third class-five dangerous creature he's called friend." Hermione adds.
"Anyway," Harry continues, "we ran and the car found us. It took us back to Hagrid's hut and threw us out again. Ron and I owe it our lives." He finished.
"That's crazy. Second year was a mess for you." She says, looking over and reading his face, "Oh Merlin, that's not the end, is it?"
"Not exactly." Harry admits, "So Dobby was the Malfoy's house elf. He got it in his head to protect me, so he did his best to keep me from Hogwarts. He stole my mail, dropped pudding on my Uncle's client which got me in trouble with the Ministry and the Dursleys. Then he blocked Ron and I from the platform. Finally, that rogue bludger during the first quidditch match; that was him. After that I made him promise to stop trying to save my life."
"It certainly sounds like he values your life above everything else, even your well-being." Hermione comments.
"Tell me about it." Harry gripes.
"Was a Malfoy house elf?" Hermione asks.
"Right, this I'm proud of. So, after Fawkes carried me up the tunnel from the chamber, Dumbledore summons me to his office. Who should be there but Mr. Malfoy trying to have Dumbledore dismissed; I explain what happened and then give Mr. Malfoy his diary back in the hall, but not before sticking one of my socks in it. Hose elves are free if given clothes by their master, so when Mr. Malfoy threw the diary to Dobby, he inadvertently gave him clothes and set him free."
"Let me try and make sense of that," Hermione says.
"Fawkes carried you and Ginny out of the tunnel and the first thing you did was go to Dumbledore and not the infirmary." Harry winces.
"You then walk in one Mr. Malfoy having Dumbledore dismissed from being Headmaster, and explain what happened in the chamber."
"You gave Mr. Malfoy his diary back with one of your socks in it. He then threw the diary to Dobby, who was freed because of the clothes thing."
"Yep, that's how it happened." Harry agrees.
"Why did you have Mr. Malfoy's diary?" Hermione asks.
"Right, I think it was an artifact of Voldemort's. He slipped it into Ginny's caldron back before school started and she was writing in it. It slowly possessed her and was draining her life when I confronted it in the chamber." Harry adds.
"What makes you think it was Voldemort's?" Hermione asks.
"Besides the fact that everything magically bad around me is because of him? The shade introduced himself as Tom Marvolo Riddle and did a cool thing where he wrote his name in fire,
"Drama Queen." Hermione coughs.
"and spelled his name out before waving it into-
"Immortal dove lord?" Hermione asks sweetly.
"I am lord Voldemort, but close enough." Harry replies with a chuckle.
"Not very clever of him, really. He should have cut all ties to his past life if he didn't want to be Tom Riddle anymore." Hermione says.
Their chatting had kept them from watching the shadows around them as much as they should have, and something was prowling closer. Yellow eyes watched through the underbrush, planned its attack, and scampered off as they laughed.
"Hermione, there's one of the ferrets!" Harry says, pointing to a small shape at the edge of their wandlight.
"Buckbeak must be close." She says, dimming her light and blinking to adjust her eyes.
"I see him!" Harry says, darting forward with Hermione only a step behind.
Suddenly she grabs his jacket and yanks him back, "Harry, that's not Buckbeak." Indeed, the creature limbers up from the tree it had been crouched under. Long sinuous legs and an elongated muzzle, saliva dripping from its jaws. No wings and no beak.
Professor Lupin prowls forward, the duo entranced and terrified to move as he creeps closer. He growls, a low rumble that they feel in their chests. As he creeps through a shaft of moonlight, they can see the small wounds dripping blood on the leaves and dirt. There's a ragged scratch down one side of his chest, a deep clawed trio of gashes.
"Hermione, get behind me and close your eyes." Harry orders, flexing his fingers and gripping his wand. He knows it's probably futile, but there is no way he is not fighting. Maybe an overpowered stinging hex or a supersized incendio could drive it off. Or, perhaps he could pull a Ron and levitate it out of the way. Hermione scrambles behind him, becoming painfully aware that she is actually larger than he is and can still see Professor Lupin over his head if she stands on her tiptoes. She knows now is not the time, but if they survive this, she's not letting things go any longer.
Harry determinedly takes a step forward, the idea coming to his mind in just the nick of time. As Lupin draws back to swipe at them, Harry shouts "Lumos!"
The tip of his wand lights up brighter than his Patronus had been, brighter than anything he's ever seen in his life. The clearing is thrown into stark relief, the shadows bending away from the light, trees bleached; all color seemingly cast out of existence. Lupin howls in pain, rearing up and away, his sensitive eyes streaming. He claws blindly as he falls back. Harry, arm outstretched, screams as the claws rake his arm. His wand goes flying, arm and jacket shredded, blood quickly dripping down on the leaves with wet splats. The werewolf turns and lopes back a few feet, shaking its head.
"Harry!" Hermione screams, pulling her own wand and tugging Harry back by his jacket. She steps forward and trues to come up with a spell, with something. She's desperate, cursed by her studies into knowing just how outclassed she is. Even blinded, she knows she's no match for Professor Lupin. Finding them by scent, he rushes forward and claws at them. Hermione blanks, all the spells she's memorized flying out of her head. All she can do is watch Lupin come closer, almost in slow motion.
At the last second, Lupin is thrown aside. Buckbeak shoves the werewolf away and lashes out, another set of deep gashes tearing into the professor's breast. The wolf snaps at the hippogriff, but Buckbeak matches it. Each bite is met with a sharp beak, every swipe caught and turned away with bloodied talons. When it meets its match, the wolf retreats, disappearing into the brush of the forbidden forest.
As soon as she realizes they've seen the last of Lupin, Hermione drops to her knees and looks over Harry.
"Hermione, am I going to change now? When will the first be? Oh god, what will the Dursleys do? Uncle Vernon will kill me when he hears!" Harry says.
"Harry, did you sleep through every one of Snape's lectures? Only werewolf saliva can infect. You'll be fine, other than some scars, thank god. Now, what was I just saying about being careful?" She cuffs the back of his head before hugging him. "That's for saving me and risking your life. And not in that order!" Hermione feels Buckbeak's beak prodding her back, and rises, raising her hands to show the Hippogriff that she doesn't have any food for it.
"Harry, what do we do now?" She asks, running up on the edge of her control and valiantly ignoring how she's trembling.
"Buckbeak is probably hungry. Help me find my wand; I think I can find one of Hagrid's traps. Wait, I got it." Harry climbs to his feet only to stumble to a tree and fall as his leg gives out.
"Harry!" Hermione shouts, rushing over.
"I'm fine Hermione, just stood up too fast." He replies, picking up his wand and climbing back to his feet. She groans and tears off the sleeve of his jacket.
"Reparo, Scourgify." She casts, making the sleeve whole and cleaning it of debris. She wraps it around his scratches, tying it in a knot over the wound. "That'll do until we're back at Pomphrey's. And it's no surprise about your condition. Magical exhaustion AND blood loss. If it were anyone else, you wouldn't be walking."
"Well, the chores've got to be done, no matter how I'm feeling." Harry says drily. "Thank you Buckbeak." He calls, bowing to the birdhorse. "Or is it a horsebird? Semantics." He muses.
"I see a trap over there, Hermione." He calls, pulling his wand and focusing with a muttered, "Lumos." The light comes out narrower, thin as a laser beam pointing at a line hanging from a branch.
"How did you do that?" Hermione asks as she retrieves the dead rodent.
"I've been practicing magic with Professor Lupin during my breaks. He's taught me some tricks with intent." Harry replies.
Once she's back by him, Hermione tugs on his wand and Harry lets her pull it out of his hand, the tip going dark as it disconnects.
"Magical Exhaustion," she admonishes, passing it back to him before feeding the ferret to Buckbeak.
"So, how exactly did you fly on him last time?" she asks.
"Bow, then er… Figure it out." At her dirty look he continues. "Hagrid just kinda plopped me on him last time. I'm not sure how to mount. Come to think, Hagrid probably doesn't either with his size and all." Harry protests.
"Boys." Hermione huffs, bowing to Buckbeak. When he bows back she approaches him, stroking his beak. "You're a wonderful hippogriff. So handsome and smart. I bet you know the mounting procedure, don't you?" Buckbeak snorts and bends even lower, to where she can brace off a nearby tree and sling a leg over him. "Come on Harry, it's not hard." She says triumphantly.
With much more care, Harry repeats the process, shuffling onto Buckbeak's back.
"Now to the north tower. "Hermione says. Harry nods and, prods the hippogriffs sides with his worn trainers. They canter twice before Buckbeak snaps his wings open and they lift off. Hermione still hates the feeling of flying, of air rushing past her, and not being able to see the ground, but her focus is on Harry, who she knows could be seconds away from passing out and plummeting to his death without warning.
Their arrival at the north tower happens without notice, as well as bursting Sirius' cell door. Hermione's subtle Alohomora attracts as much notice as it did first year, rather than the loud blast that Harry's planned Bombarda would have caused. However, buried in the shadows of the cell, Sirius doesn't react at all.
"Sirius? We've come to rescue you! Sirius?" Harry's chipper call swiftly descends to worry as he doesn't react.
Hermione's hands climb to cover her mouth, trying to muffle the "No…"
"Siri?" Harry is on his knees by Sirius body now, clumsily feeling for a pulse or something. "Hermione, Hermione, he's- he's cold. There's no heartbeat. Hermione he's, he's, he's dead. He was going to let me stay with him instead of the Dursleys and he's dead. He's dead. Hermione, he's dead!" Harry is in full hysteria, tears sliding on his cheeks, nose running; it falls to her to keep them safe.
"Harry." She calls softly, gently. "Harry there's nothing we can do."
"But- but I made sure they didn't kiss him. I watched the dementors flee. They didn't get his soul. Hermione, he was fine! They- they didn't get him." He protests.
"Harry, the dementors kiss doesn't kill a person, it only takes their soul. If he had been kissed, the body would still be alive." She says gently, feeling her eyes start to water.
"So you're saying that he- that someone?"
"Maybe. We don't know. We didn't see them take him in. We don't know Harry. We don't." The ominous sound of tolling bells suddenly booms.
"Harry, quick- we've got to be in the infirmary before the bells are over." Hermione cries out. "Buckbeak, you're free now. You can go wherever you want to, but you can't stay here. Go. Be free, and be safe." She pleads, pushing on his side. The hippogriff noses her shoulder. "No, you can't stay! Forgive me." She slaps his flank roughly. He whinnies in shock, turning and launching from the tower. "I'm so sorry." She sobs, turning back.
"C'mon Harry. We have to be at the infirmary."
The final bell tolls as she drags a shell-shocked Harry through the doors. Ron is thankfully asleep and Dumbledore is nowhere to be seen.
"Harry, you have to lie down on your cot." She guides him to his cot and gently pushes him down.
"Miss Granger?" Madame Pomphrey's tone is sharp, and comforting.
"Harry was thrashing about. I- I woke him up, but he turned to this. I think it may be that the adrenaline is wearing off. Also, his arm is torn open. I just noticed it now. Lupin had bound it before…" She trailed off.
"Oh, my poor dear. Rest. I'll handle this." Madame Pomphrey guides her to her own cot and gently pushes her down. "A calming draught?"
"Yes please." "Anything to end this night."
"How is he?" the whisper is quiet and gruff, voice hoarse and tired.
"Good considering what happened. He's magically exhausted, but that should heal itself within a day or two. I did my best on the scratches he got, but they're going to scar. I have no clue how he melted his fingertips off, but they'll grow back before long."
"And the others?"
"Ron is fine. I had to vanish the bone, but he's halfway through regrowing it. Hermione is the best off; with just a little bit of superficial damage- some scrapes and cuts. She'll be right as rain when she wakes up."
"Good."
"And you? Last night could not have been pleasant."
"It was a trial. I had forgotten how painful the transformation is. I'm glad they're okay."
"There is good news though, they found the traitors body!"
"They what?"
"Sirius Black. They found his corpse. Harry is safe now."
Remus Lupin, exhausted and in pain from the night before, felt a shiver of dread go down his misshapen spine.
Harry Potter, Lily's boy, is most definitely not safe.