Wednesday 1 September, 1993:

"Now, regarding today's patrols on the train. You will each be assigned one carriage, for a one-hour long patrol. You are to make sure nobody is using magic, loitering in the corridors, or allowing their pets out of their cages. You are also there to answer any questions our First Years may have. The Prefects on duty for the first round of patrols are: Hubert Goddard, Karima Siddiqui..."

As Percy Weasley listed off the names of the Hogwarts' Prefects, Lena tried to connect them with the faces of the students around her, but with little success.

Part of the reason she had arrived at least half an hour early to the Hogwarts Express that morning had been so that she could try to find out all the names of the Prefects as they entered Compartment A for their first meeting of the year. But it had soon become apparent that there wasn't going to be any small talk with Lena.

The reactions from the Prefects as they'd walked into the compartment to find her there had been varied, from shocked to... well, very shocked.

It was Weasley, however, who'd had the stand-out reaction to Lena's presence. He had made quite the entrance into Compartment A. At precisely eleven o'clock, the door had swung open, and in had strode the new Head Boy, already dressed in his uniform, his badge proudly displayed on his puffed out chest, and an incredibly smug and satisfied expression on his face.

Until, upon seeing Lena sitting amongst the other Prefects, it suddenly turned a quite remarkable shade of puce. Behind his horn-rimmed glasses, his eyes had bulged. It took him a few attempts, but he had eventually been able to ask, "Whaaa... what are you doing here?"

Lena had simply smiled pleasantly, and gestured to the Head Girl badge she'd pinned on her cardigan. To which Weasley had responded with some indistinct noise of shock – and possibly outrage.

"Congratulations on your appointment," Lena had said sweetly. "I'm so looking forward to working with you this year."

She suspected it was probably only the presence of the other Prefects, and Weasley's fear of looking bad in front of them, that had stopped him from throwing a hissy fit right there. Instead, he had jerkily nodded his head, and said in a strained voice, "Yes. Excellent." Then he had gingerly sat down next to her, and had studiously avoided looking at her since.

She had decided it was probably best to let him do all the talking in this first Prefects' meeting, considering she had zero experience in the area of being a Prefect. It was a decision which Weasley had not contested. But his droning voice was not particularly effective at keeping his audience engaged, so for most of the meeting, Lena was very aware of the many pairs of curious eyes watching her – or her Head Girl badge (those eyes were more disbelieving than curious). She imagined they thought they were being discreet.

'Well, they're sadly mistaken,' she thought. 'They might as well be pointing too.' Occasionally she would make eye contact with one of them. She didn't think her expression was particularly intimidating, but they would flinch and quickly turn their attention back to Weasley.

'Maybe I should smile,' Lena wondered to herself. 'Perhaps they would find that less threatening.' Feeling the eyes of one of the female Prefects from Hufflepuff – Lena couldn't remember what she had said her name was – upon her, she turned to the girl and attempted a welcoming smile.

The girl's eyes widened in fear, and she immediately stared down at the floor.

'Okay, smiling makes it worse. Good to know.'

So for the rest of the meeting, Lena just looked down at her lap, and listened to Weasley's lecture.

It didn't take long for her to realise that Weasley had stopped giving out new information, and was just saying the same thing in as many different ways as he could. She risked a look around the compartment. The Prefects were either staring at their Head Boy with a glazed-over expression, constantly checking their watches and fidgeting uncomfortably, or looking at Weasley in a way that suggested they were fantasising about gagging him with his school tie, stuffing him up onto the luggage rack, and leaving him there for the train's return trip to London.

The latter were mostly Slytherins.

'Someone really should shut him up,' thought Lena. Then she noticed that Gemma Farley and Fakhir Kahn were looking at her. Not curiously, like everyone else, but pointedly.

'Oh. That someone's me.'

The next time Weasley paused to take a breath, Lena cut in. "Well, I think that covers all of your responsibilities and duties as Prefects. And now, as it's–" she checked her wristwatch, "–five-past-twelve, it's probably about time to begin that first round of patrols – wouldn't you say, Weasley?"

"Er, yes, of course. But I would just like to reiterate–"

Lena addressed the compartment. "Does anybody still feel unclear about their role as Prefect?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Wonderful. Thank you to our Head Boy for his very thorough explanation. Now, on behalf of both of us, I'd like to once more congratulate our Fifth Years on their new appointments–" she paused to lead a brief round of applause, then continued, "–and welcome back our Sixth and Seventh Years. Good luck to you all, and we hope you have a great year." She turned to Weasley to ask him if there were any final, quick things he wanted to say, but was interrupted by someone saying, "Thank you, Lestrange."

It was Farley, who was swiftly joined by Kahn, also saying, "Thank you." This was followed by a muttered chorus of 'Thank you' from the rest of the Prefects. Lena got the sense that there wasn't a lot of sincere gratitude.

'But,' she had to admit, 'it's a step up from flinching at the sight of me."

"Ahem," coughed Weasley, bring the Prefects' attention back to him. "Well, if there are no further questions, you are all free to go back to your compartments until your assigned patrol time. Except Goddard and Siddiqui, who have the first patrol with me."

There was a flurry of movement and noise as the Prefects stood up, chatting to each other excitedly. Lena made to stand up, but was stopped by Weasley.

"Actually, Lestrange, I was hoping to have a word with you before I start my patrol."

Settling back into her seat, Lena considered the possible reasons that Weasley would want a private conversation. 'Merlin, I hope it's not the 'We've had our disagreements in the past, but I'm willing to give you a chance' speech,' thought Lena, watching Weasley say goodbye to every individual Prefect as they left. Most of them took one more backward glance at Lena, undoubtedly trying to reassure themselves that no, they hadn't been hallucinating: Lena Lestrange was the new Head Girl. She estimated that it would take about four minutes for the news to spread throughout the entire Hogwarts Express.

Once the compartment was otherwise empty, Weasley shut the door, and faced Lena, properly looking at her for the first time since he'd entered the compartment.

Lena folded her arms, waiting for him to speak.

After a couple of seconds of silence, Weasley cleared his throat. "I just wanted to – that is to say, I never got a chance, last year, after everything – well, to thank you for everything you did for my sister."

Well, she hadn't expected that.

She rubbed her neck awkwardly. "Oh, well, I didn't really do much, it was mostly Harry–"

"According to him, you helped kill the Basilisk and destroy the diary."

"My contribution to both of those things was very small," argued Lena, standing up. "Honestly, there's absolutely no need to thank me."

"But–"

Lena didn't let him finish. "And I would really prefer it if you didn't," she said firmly.

Weasley regarded her with a strange look, but nodded. "Then I suppose I should begin my patrol." He turned to leave, only to look back at Lena. "Don't forget," he reminded her, his officious manner returned, "You're scheduled to patrol from–"

"Four until five, I know."

Weasley nodded. "Right. Well then..." He turned back around and strode out of the compartment, leaving Lena alone, lost in thought.

At the end of the previous school year, Lena had been so preoccupied with everything that had gone down in the Chamber, and the realisation that Harry was in fact an unintentional Horcrux, that she hadn't really noticed what the rest of the Hogwarts students were saying about her part in the whole situation. She knew Harry had told Hermione and all the Weasley children that Riddle had taken her into the Chamber in the hope that she would help him, like her parents had helped his older self, but that she'd refused and instead helped save Ginny's life. Lena had told Maggie and Rolf much the same thing, and she assumed that it was the same story Dumbledore and McGonagall had told the rest of the staff. But as for everyone else...

She was sure that her Slytherin classmates in their DADA class would have wanted to ask her all about it, but as exams had been cancelled, she hadn't conducted any more of the extra lessons. And it wasn't like there was anyone else bold enough to approach her. She was fairly certain it was common knowledge that she had been in the Chamber that night, but there was likely still speculation about why. And now that she was Head Girl, that speculation was probably only going to intensify.

Glancing at her wristwatch, she decided it was time to go join Maggie and Rolf – and Mortimer, who she'd left with them – in their compartment. It was the first one in the final carriage, so she would have to pass a lot of curious students on her way.

Preparing herself for the stares, she exited Compartment A, only to find someone waiting for her: Farley.

"Lestrange," said the girl. "I just wanted to congratulate you."

Lena blinked, surprised. "Erm, thank you," she said awkwardly. She hesitated, then added, "That's really nice of you. Considering, um–"

"That as the female Prefect for our Year, you've sort of taken my place?" interrupted Farley, smiling. "Well, there was no way I was going to be Head Girl, so I'd rather it be you than someone from another house."

"Oh. Erm, well, then I'm glad you're okay with it."

"Yeah."

When Farley didn't move, instead continuing to stare at her, Lena asked, politely as she could, "And was there something else you wanted to say, or..." She gestured down the carriage corridor.

Farley blinked a couple of times, then – to Lena's discomfort – giggled nervously. "Oh right, yeah." She ran a hand through her short brown hair, and grinned. "Good thing Weasley isn't here, or he'd tell us off for loitering in the corridor."

Lena smiled weakly. "Good thing, yeah." Patiently, she waited for Farley to speak, but the girl just continued to grin. After five or six seconds of silence, Lena prompted her. "You wanted to say something."

"Oh!" Farley blushed, and looked down embarrassed. "Sorry." She tugged the bottom of her shirt nervously. "I just – well, we were just wondering–"

"Who's we?"

"Fakhir and me. We were wondering if you were planning on continuing your Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons this year."

"Well, I think that depends entirely on the competency of the new professor."

Farley's face fell, disappointed. "So it's not a definite thing, then?"

Lena stared at her, puzzled. "No, it's– do you mind if we talk while I walk back to my compartment?" She could already see some students were standing at their compartment doors, watching her in what they probably thought was a surreptitious manner.

"Oh, sure!" was Farley's immediately reply.

"I thought the only reason you guys came to me for help last year was because Lockhart was totally inept," said Lena as they set off. "I assumed you'd all only want to continue if the new teacher is equally lacking in ability."

"Yes, well, that's quite likely, isn't it?" Farley pointed out. "I mean, I can hardly imagine that Dumbledore was spoiled for choice of candidates, given that, you know, the position's cursed."

Lena shrugged, opening the door to the next carriage. "I suppose that's not a totally unfair presumption to make," she conceded, standing back to allow Farley to go first.

Farley blushed again, muttered, "Thank you," and passed through. Lena shook her head in bemusement, following her.

"But," continued Lena, "I wasn't going to make any plans without, erm, experiencing one of the new professor's classes first."

"Okay, but would you still consider holding lessons even if the teacher's fine?"

"What would be the point of that?"

"Because you're interesting," replied Farley immediately, then clapped a hand over her mouth, looking mortified.

Lena raised an eyebrow. "Interesting?"

Farley gulped nervously. "I mean, the way you talk is interesting. The way you teach." She bit her lip. "I think I learnt more from you last year than I did in the five years prior to that put together. And even if this teacher actually knows their stuff, they still probably don't know as much as you."

Now Lena was worried that she was going to blush. "Well, thank you," she said, feeling awkward, but flattered. "Look, if the teacher's bad, I'll continue the lessons. But if not... well, being Head Girl this year, I'm probably going to have less spare time, so..."

"It's fine, I get it," said Farley hastily. "Totally. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be pushy."

"Oh, no, you weren't–"

"This is my compartment," she said, coming to a stop at one of the doors. "I don't have patrol duty with you, so I guess I'll see you at the feast tonight." She reached for handle.

"Wait," Lena blurted out, not entirely sure of what she was going to say. "Even if we don't continue proper lessons, that doesn't mean you can't ask me for help."

Farley froze, then turned back to Lena, a perplexed expression on her face. "Help?" she asked, as if unfamiliar with the word.

'Yeah,' said a little voice in her head, 'what exactly do you mean by help? I don't think you've thought this through. "

But Lena's mouth didn't appear to be listening to the rest of her head. "With schoolwork," she said. "If there's something you don't get in class, you can always ask me about it. Or even if you just want to know more about a particular topic, I'd be happy to help."

Farley stared at Lena for a few seconds, her face blank. Then she smiled shyly. "Thanks. I might take you up on that."

Lena nodded, although the internal voice was screaming at her to stop it. "Yeah. Okay."

"Okay." Farley continued to gaze at her with a smile.

Adjusting her cardigan in discomfort, Lena took a few steps backwards. "Right, well, I've..." She indicated behind her.

"Right," said Farley, reaching for the handle again but, with her eyes still on Lena, missing it. "See you later then."

Inclining her head, Lena replied, "Later, then." Then she quickly turned around, only to walk straight into the carriage door. "Ow."

Behind her, she heard a muffled giggle. She looked back around, only to see Farley's compartment door closing behind her.

Opening the carriage door, Lena shook her head, disgusted. 'Idiot,' she mentally berated herself, entering the final carriage. 'What the hell was that? You acted like a... like a...'

She opened the first door to her right, where Maggie, Rolf and Mortimer were waiting for her. As she greeted them, she couldn't stop thinking: acted like a what?

It took a while, but the answer finally came to her.

For a couple of minutes, she'd acted like an ordinary teenage girl.

It was about twenty minutes before they were supposed to arrive at Hogsmeade Station that the train began to slow. Straightening up in her seat, Lena looked at her watch, confused. There was no way they'd arrived this early.

Rolf pressed his face up against the window, staring out into the dark night, but the rain hammering against the glass was obscuring the view even further. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I don't know," replied Lena, frowning. She couldn't recall the Hogwarts Express ever stopping before reaching its destination any other year. "Something wrong with the track, maybe?"

Maggie shrugged. "I guess there's a first time for everything," she said, sounding unconvinced.

Lena put Mortimer, who was sitting on her shoulder, on the seat next to her, and stood up, just as the train came to a halt. A second later, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

Maggie's voice cut through the blackness. "Okay, what the fuck is going on?"

Holding her hand out, Lena wordlessly conjured a ball of blue flames, and their compartment was once again lit.

"I'm going to find out what's happening," she told Maggie and Rolf.

"And leave us without light?" complained Rolf.

Lena gave him a withering look. "You're a wizard, Rolf," she snapped. "Use your own fucking magic."

Leaving Rolf looking sheepish, she opened the door and stepped out into the corridor, and looked around. There were several students stumbling about, some whispering to each other in panicked voices, others groping around to find handles to the compartment doors. As the blue flames illuminated the space, they all turned to look at its source.

About to tell them all to return to their compartments while she found out what was going on, the carriage door leading outside was slammed open. The sound of heavy rain filled the carriage, and it became much colder.

A black-hooded figure slowly glided onto the train, coming to a stop about five feet away from Lena. Then it breathed in.

Lena had never seen one before, but she instantly knew what it was. She took a step back. "Get into the compartments," she ordered the students, who had frozen in horror. "Now," she urged them, her voice harsh and low.

The children didn't need to be told twice. They threw open the doors and raced inside, slamming the doors shut behind them.

"Lena?" She heard Maggie's voice from their compartment. "Are you–"

"Don't come out," hissed Lena. "Do you hear me? Shut the door, and stay in the compartment."

There was a pause, then the sound of their compartment door slowly shutting.

Lena had known there were going to be Dementors outside Hogwarts this year, due to the perceived threat of Sirius Black; Dumbledore had sent a letter to the Head Boy and Girl informing them of the arrangement. But there hadn't been any mention of them searching the train.

Without warning, the Dementor began to glide towards Lena, closing the short distance between them. The handful of flames went out, and Lena clenched her now empty fists, as the Dementor took another breath. And Lena felt–

Nothing. Her eyes widened slightly at the realisation. She knew very well what the effects of a Dementor were supposed to be, and none of them were happening to her. And although she could no longer see the Dementor's hood – or in any case, what was under it – she sensed that it was staring at her too. Surprised, if a Dementor could be such a thing.

There was a noise – like a rustle of a cloak – and the Dementor was now merely inches away from her. Lena held her breath, but also her ground. She grasped her wand in her robe pocket.

'Come on,' she told herself, 'you know the words. You know what you need to think of. Just cast the damn spell.'

True, she knew the incantation. She knew it required focusing on a happy memory. But Lena also knew, try as she might, that she could not cast the Patronus Charm. So she relaxed her grip on the wand, and stepped to the side of the corridor, in front of the door to her compartment.

As the Dementor passed her, she was sure it was looking at her. But with what? Derision? Wariness? Curiosity? Lena's hand found the door handle. Sliding it open, she stepped inside, catching a last glance of the Dementor, which was slowly opening another compartment's door.

A soft light was being emitted from the tip of Rolf's wand. He was sitting next to a nauseated-looking Maggie, and looked up concernedly at Lena as she shut the door. Mortimer was sitting on his shoulder, also worried.

"What is it?" whispered Rolf.

"A Dementor," answered Lena, sitting on Maggie's other side. Her friend was clutching her stomach and shivering. Lena guessed that the effects of the Dementor had transcended the barrier of a mere door to reach Maggie – someone who'd undoubtedly suffered enough in her childhood to be more adversely affected than most. "I think it's searching the train for Sirius Black." She decided that the light from Rolf's wand wasn't enough, and reignited the handful of blue flames.

Rolf frowned, confused. "Why? Did they get a tip-off that Black was going to try to enter Hogwarts this way?"

Lena snorted. "Of course not. They're just opportunistic bastards who saw this as a chance for a free meal." Gently, she placed a hand on the still-shuddering Maggie. "I know this feels awful now," she murmured to her, "but it'll be gone soon, and you'll feel better again."

Maggie looked at her, and Lena could see the pain and horror, usually so well-concealed, in her brown eyes. "I thought I was back there," she whispered. "When I was little. Before I knew I was a witch..." She shuddered, and clenched her teeth, unwilling to say anymore.

Lena could only nod in response – what else could she say to provide comfort? She noticed that Rolf was eying her oddly. "What?" she asked him

Rolf bit his lip, hesitating. After a few moments, he said, "Are you okay? The Dementor must have gotten pretty close to you–"

"I'm fine," said Lena, a little too quickly.

Rolf raised his eyebrows, incredulous, but didn't inquire any further, switching his focus back to their shivering friend.

Lena watched Maggie helplessly. Physical wounds she could treat reasonably well, but the affects of a Dementor... there wasn't much one could do without a Patronus.

She stood up. "I'm going to see where it's up to," she told Rolf and Maggie. "It must have nearly finished searching this carriage by now."

Blues flames still in her hand, she opened the door just enough to peer around it. It took a few seconds to make out the outline of the hooded figure in the dark corridor. It was at the end of the carriage, hovering in the doorway of the final compartment.

And then, to Lena's astonishment, the Dementor... sort of... jumped back, as a sliver light shot out of the compartment. With considerable speed, the Dementor turned and glided back up the corridor, chased by the indistinct silvery figure. It exited the carriage, the door sliding shut with a bang behind it.

Lena stared at the Patronus, which had come to a stop a couple of feet from where she was standing. It was incorporeal, but somewhere within it was the suggestion of a face. She squinted; there was something almost... canine about it.

Then the carriage was suddenly, blindingly illuminated as the lanterns were reignited, and the Patronus disappeared with a pop. A couple of seconds of later, Lena stumbled to the side as the Hogwarts Express jerked forward, beginning the final leg of its journey.

She looked back around at her friends. Rolf looked relieved, and Maggie was beginning to look slightly less ill.

"It's gone?" asked Rolf.

Lena looked back at the corridor. "Yeah," she replied distractedly, running a hand through her hair. Who could have cast the Patronus? The Hogwarts curriculum didn't have students learning the Patronus Charm until the second trimester of Seventh Year.

"What's wrong?" asked Maggie, watching Lena's face closely. "You look confused."

"Yeah," added Rolf, "and if you're confused, that can't be good for the rest of us."

Lena chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "Nothing's wrong," she assured them. "Just... it left because somebody cast a Patronus."

Maggie and Rolf shared a surprised look. "That's pretty advanced magic," said Rolf, scratching his head.

"Exactly." Lena made a decision. "I'm going to go find out who it was."

"How will you know?" Maggie queried.

"Because it came from the last compartment on this carriage," answered Lena, sliding the door fully open. "I'll be back in a minute."

She was stopped halfway down the corridor, however, when another compartment door was wrenched open by what Lena assumed to be a First Year, due to the lack of house colours on her robe and tie.

"Excuse me," said the small girl, looking up at Lena with large, fearful eyes. "My friend, she – she needs help. Could, could you–"

Lena gestured for the girl to step back. The doorway clear, she entered the compartment, and immediately identified the child in need of assistance.

There were four girls in the compartment – including the one who had asked for help, a blonde – and they all appeared to be First Years. One girl was sitting hunched over, shivering and sobbing so hard she seemed to be struggling to breathe. The other two girls were sitting either side of her, frantically trying to find out what was wrong.

"Give her some space," Lena sharply said to them. They took one look at Lena, and scooted over in their seats, leaving the crying girl about two feet of space on each side.

Lena knelt down in front of the girl. She was pale and clammy all over, and as she met Lena's gaze, she saw that her hazel eyes were red and swollen from her sobs. "What's your name?" she asked her.

"Erin," croaked the girl in between ragged breaths.

Lena nodded. "Okay, Erin, do you know what that creature was that came in here before?"

Erin shook head frantically, another round of sobs escaping her.

"She's Muggle-born," said the girl to Lena's right, a brunette.

"It was a Dementor, wasn't it?" said the girl to the left, whose black hair was corn-rowed and tied back in a ponytail. Her voice was quiet and scared. "What was it doing on the train?"

"It was searching the train for an escaped prisoner," Lena explained, trying to figure out how to calm Erin down.

"Sirius Black?" asked the blonde. "The one who's been in the newspaper? But why–"

Lena cut her off. "I appreciate your desire to be well-informed," she said, patiently as she could. "But your questions aren't particularly helpful right now." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the blonde look down, abashed. Refocusing her attention on Erin, Lena said to her, "Now, Erin, I think what's making you upset now is that the Dementor made you remember something really bad that happened to you. Is that right?"

"Ye-e-es," Erin choked out. Snot dripped out of her nose.

Lena dug into her robe pocket, and found an empty lollypop wrapper from earlier in the day. She pulled both it and her wand out, and muttered a spell. There was an audible ooh from one of the girls as the wrapper was Transfigured into a handkerchief.

Lena offered it to Erin. "Here."

The weeping girl took it with a shaking hand, wiping her nose and eyes. But the flood of tears continued.

"I-i-it was like it w-was hap-p-pening all over again," she cried, a whole shudder running through her body.

"What was?" asked the brunette.

"M-my d-d-dad," sobbed Erin. "He c-collasped, and then it was all my fault–" She started gasping for air.

Lena firmly clasped Erin's hands. "Okay, I need you to hold your breath, and count to ten."

Erin shook her head frantically. "I – can't–"

"Yes, you can," Lena told her sternly. "And I'm going to do it with you. Ready?" She took in a deep breath, and held it. A moment later, Erin copied her.

They locked eyes, and Lena started counting to ten. Still holding her hands, she could feel that Erin's whole body was still shaking.

Reaching ten, Lena nodded at Erin, and began to slowly blow out the air. Her face still wet with tears, Erin followed her lead.

"And we're going to do it one more time," said Lena, and the whole process was repeated, while the three other girls watched on anxiously.

Erin gradually stopped shivering, and her breathing became more regular. But Lena could still see, as she let go of her hands, that there was a haunted look in her eyes.

"Are you okay, Erin?" asked the brunette.

"No, she's not," said Lena, a little more harshly than she'd intended. She cleared her throat awkwardly, as the small girl gazed at her, upset. "But she'll start feeling better soon," she added in a gentler tone. As if to prove her point, the flow of Erin's tears came to a standstill. Lena leant back, preparing to stand up, when something shiny under the seat caught her eyes. It was a chocolate wrapper.

'Moron,' Lena scolded herself, having to resist the urge to smack herself in the face. How could she have forgotten the remedy to a Dementor encounter? She'd have to make sure that Maggie ate some.

"Do any of you have some chocolate left over?" she asked the girls.

The blonde nodded, pulling a bar out of her pocket. Lena held her hand out for it. The girl looked bewildered, but handed it over anyway. Lena tore off the wrapper.

"You need to eat this," she told Erin, who stared at the chocolate bar in confusion.

She shook her head. "I don't want it," she croaked, her voice hoarse from crying.

"That wasn't an offer," said Lena flatly. "Eat it."

Erin shook her head stubbornly. "No, I'll be sick if I–"

But Lena was done being nice. "Eat the damn chocolate," she hissed, fixing Erin with a death glare, "or I will force it down your throat."

The sudden menace in Lena's demeanour affected Erin instantaneously. She quickly snatched the chocolate from Lena, edged back in her chair, and took a sizeable bite.

The change in Erin was almost immediate. Lena could almost see the warmth spreading through her body. Swallowing the chocolate, she stared at the rest of the bar, than at Lena, perplexed.

"Wha–"

"Eat half of it," ordered Lena, standing up, "and split the rest of it between the three of you." She walked over to the door, very conscious of the four pairs of eyes intently following her. "I'm going to leave now, but I'll check up on you just before we get to the station, and when I do, that chocolate better be finished."

"But what was that thing?" asked Erin, a shadow of fear passing over her face. "The de-de–"

"Dementor." Lena pointed at the dark-haired girl, who shrunk back in her seat. "Can you explain it to her?" she asked her.

The girl nodded hastily. "Yes."

"Good." She looked back at Erin. "And if there's anything you still want to know, you can ask me when I get back. Now, eat that chocolate, or I'll–" she paused, not sure how to finish the threat. "Or I'll be very cross."

Apparently, a cross Lena was enough incentive, because the last thing she saw as she exited the compartment was Erin quickly taking another bite from the bar.

Continuing down the last half of the corridor, Lena shook her head, not sure if she was feeling amused or exasperated. Her first threat of the year – and it was in order to make a First Year girl eat chocolate.

'So much for my terrifying reputation,' she thought ruefully.

A few metres away from the final compartment, Lena noticed that its door was still open. Reaching it, she turned to enter, only to find her way blocked by a man.

Five minutes earlier:

Remus was pulled from his deep sleep by the sound of nervous and frightened voices. However, when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by only more darkness. He straightened in his seat. They seemed to still be on the Hogwarts Express, but it wasn't moving. Something was very obviously wrong.

"What are you doing?" a girl's voice was saying.

"I was looking for Ron–" another feminine voice replied.

"Come in and sit down–"

"Not here!" a boy's voice hastily interjected. "I'm here!"

"Ouch!"

Remus, now properly awake, finally spoke. "Quiet!"

The children in the carriage immediately obeyed. Remus held his hand out in front of him, and a couple of seconds later, a small cluster of flames appeared in it – one of the very few feats of wandless magic that Remus could perform. Now, he could just make out five faces in the carriage with him.

"Stay where you are," he told them, slowly getting to his feet. He needed to get to the train's driver – he didn't think there were any other staff members onboard – and see if he knew what was going on. But before Remus took another step, the door slowly slid open.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Remus' hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling.

A Dementor.

Remus froze. The last time he had seen one was just before the end of the War. Dumbledore, of course, had told him of the Ministry's decision to deploy a number of Azkaban's guards outside Hogwarts, but he hadn't been aware that any would be searching the train.

The Dementor drew a long, slow, rattling breath, and an intense cold filled the compartment. At once, memories flooded Remus' brain: hearing the news that James and Lily had been killed, the subsequent realisation that Sirius had betrayed them all, and not being able to find Peter in time to stop him going after the man they had loved as a brother...

Remus was dragged out of his stupor by the sight of one of the boys falling out of his seat and beginning to convulse on the floor.

A little voice inside Remus' head shouted, 'You're supposed to be their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, do something!'

He stepped over the boy, putting himself between him and the Dementor, and pulled out his wand. He cleared his throat. "None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks," he said to the Dementor, relieved that his voice didn't crack or shake. "Go."

But the Dementor didn't move, nor make any indication that it had understood Remus at all.

So Remus shut his eyes, and focused on a memory.

His mother, sitting in their garden, her back against a tree. A book lay open in her lap, from which she was reading aloud to his four year old self. Happy, untroubled, he listened to her, spellbound by the story, his mother smiling at her son's expression of wonder...

He opened his eyes. "Expecto Patronum," he muttered. A silver light shot out of his wand, and this time, the Dementor moved back and glided away.

For a few moments, Remus just stood there, staring at where the Dementor had been. Then all the lights came back on, and he remembered the unconscious boy. He turned back around as the train began to move again, but once again found himself dumbstruck.

Lying on the compartment floor was James. Remus shook his head, blinking wildly.

Then one of the girls knelt down beside the boy. "Harry?" she called concernedly.

Remus could have smacked himself. 'Of course it's Harry, you idiot,' he berated himself. Seeing the boy again after twelve years had been one of things he'd been most looking forward to since he had accepted Dumbledore's offer. He just hadn't been prepared for how much he would resemble his father.

A redheaded boy was now also kneeling next to Harry, as the girl lightly slapped the still unconscious boy's face.

"Harry!" she repeated. "Harry! Are you all right?"

Just as Remus was about to intervene, Harry stirred, and mumbled, "W-what?" He opened his eyes – 'Lily's eyes,' was Remus' immediate thought.

Harry pushed his glasses back on properly as he slowly sat up. He was then heaved back onto his seat by his friends.

"Are you okay?" asked the redheaded boy nervously.

"Yeah," said Harry, looking towards the door. "What happened? Where's that – that thing? Who screamed?"

Remus frowned as Harry's friend nervously replied, "No one screamed." He knew that Dementors affected children who had undergone traumatic experiences more adversely than others, making them relive those terrible moments. It was then Remus remembered the bar of chocolate he had left in his robe pocket as a precautionary measure if he had come across any Dementors on the way into Hogwarts. He quickly pulled it out and tore the wrapping off.

"But I heard screaming–"

The loud snap sound of Remus breaking the chocolate into pieces caused all the other occupants of the compartment to look at him.

"Here," Remus said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

Harry took the chocolate but didn't eat it. "What was that thing?" he asked Remus.

"A Dementor," said Remus, handing the rest of the chocolate out to the other four children. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."

He crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket, as he tried not to squirm in discomfort as they all stared at him. He wasn't used to being the centre of attention – another thing, he realised, he would have to get used to as a teacher.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me." He strolled past Harry, desperately hoping the students wouldn't see how unnerved he'd been by the last five minutes.

He turned into the corridor, only to take a hasty step back in order to avoid colliding with someone trying to enter the compartment.

"Excuse me," said the man.

He was taller than Lena by almost half a foot. There were several scars on his stubbled face, and his light brown hair was beginning to grey at the temple. Under his pale green eyes were dark shadows, and what she suspected were premature crow's feet. His robes were well-worn, and at this close distance, she could see there were several spots where the material had been torn and restitched.

All in all, it took Lena about seven seconds to identify the man as a werewolf.

"Lena Lestrange," she introduced herself, extending a hand. "Head Girl. I imagine you're the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

The man blinked a few times, then looked down at the offered hand. After a couple of seconds, he took it. "Yes," he confirmed, shaking it. "Professor Lupin."

It required some effort for Lena not to raise an eyebrow when he said his name. 'Well, that's horribly ironic.' Aloud, she asked, "And that would have been your Patronus I saw earlier?"

"Er, yes–"

"Lena?" a voice from inside the compartment called out. Harry. "Is that you?"

The man looked back over his shoulder, and Lena took the opportunity to slip past him. Harry was sitting in between Ron and Hermione, a piece of chocolate in his hand. His face was paler than usual.

"How are you, Harry?" asked Lena.

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. He seemed to be thinking something over. "I fainted," he said at last. "When that – Dementor – came in here. And I thought I heard someone scream before I passed out, but everyone's saying–" He broke off, a strange look on his face. He was looking behind Lena.

She turned around, and found herself wishing she could disappear into thin air. Sitting opposite Harry was Ginny. And sitting next to her was Neville Longbottom, who was staring at Lena like he wanted to vomit. Their eyes met for a second, then Neville tore his gaze away, and stared down at the floor resolutely. Lena swallowed uncomfortably, then turned back to Harry. "You heard a scream?"

Harry's eyes flicked between Lena and Neville, but he simply said, "Yeah, but apparently nobody did." He frowned. "So why did I hear it?"

"It was a memory," explained Lena. "That's what Dementors do: suck out the happiness, and leave you reliving your worst memories. So that scream was real – it just happened some time ago. And you should definitely eat that." She pointed at the chocolate.

The fact that Harry automatically took a bite of the chocolate was a testament to his trust in Lena and her knowledge.

"Feel a little better?"

Lena started, and glanced to her left. She hadn't realised that Professor Lupin was still standing in the doorway.

"Yeah, thanks," Harry replied to him. Everyone else seemed to take this as a cue that they could eat their chocolate too. Which reminded Lena that she should get back to Maggie and tell her to eat some – she was fairly sure Rolf had a couple of bars left over.

She checked her watch. "Well, we should be arriving at the station in ten minutes," she announced to the compartment. "And I need to check on some other people, so unless there's anything else you need..."

Harry waved his hand that wasn't holding chocolate. "It's fine," he assured her. "But talk to you tomorrow?"

Lena nodded, very aware that everyone else in the compartment was watching her and Harry's interaction closely. "I'll be in the library the hour before dinner," she told him.

"Okay." He flashed her a smile, which Lena returned.

Turning to the doorway and looking at Professor Lupin, she gestured out to the corridor. "Were you..."

He shook his head, stepping out of the way. "No, I'm staying in here."

"Right. Then I suppose I'll see you in class, Professor."

He inclined his head, but Lena was positive there was a wariness in his eyes as he watched her leave.

'Not like that's anything new,' she told herself as she walked back up the corridor. 'Probably would be more concerning if he heard the name 'Lestrange' and decided to be nice to me.'

But a werewolf professor... now, that certainly was new.