AN: Updated 5/7/22
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.
"Oh my god, why? Why are you such- such a- such a boy!"" Hermione groans, pinching her forehead. "That was reckless and dumb. You could have died, both of you, or destabilized the timestream, or- or- Merlin Harry!"
He shrinks a little at her tirade, and she softens, "It was reckless, but it worked. That's what's important right now. And Harry, make no mistake, you are one heck of a powerful wizard." 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' Anglia." 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. But that's not important." 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? The platform was closed, everyone was on the other side, and I was not going back the Dursleys. The Twins rescued me, pulled the bars off the windows and picked me up not a week before. I was desperate."
"Harry, I-" Hermione pauses, her face twitching through a series of emotions and the strain of digesting and unpicking all of the things Harry told her. She sighs, "We have a lot to discuss when we're back in the castle. A lot." She whispers firmly as a howl echoes through the forest.
"Alright." Harry agrees, shelving the topic. The two walk in quiet for a while before Hermione cracks.
"You really let Ron drive it to Hogwarts."
"Yeah, and then he crashed us into the Whomping Willow. You can imagine how that went."
"You're lucky you weren't killed."
"Or expelled. Snape was the one to welcome 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 'not much' already and I- Have I even been petrified yet?"
"Yes, this part was after you got zapped. Hey, is that part of why you were given the time turner, so you could catch up easier?"
"That's probably what McGonagall told the ministry." She says, impressed at his reasoning. But her proud look fades to irritation, "Don't try to change the subject."
"Fine. Aragog is Hagrid's acromantula friend. It got him expelled when Tom Riddle pinned 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. Hagrid said 'follow the spiders' and that was a mistake."
"Hagrid means well, but..."
"After Fluffy and Norbert we should have known better. Aragog was a proud sire, and he gave us our answer: the basilisk. But, he also refused to protect us. He said Hagrid had safe passage because of their relationship, but Ron and I were fair game. Ron and I did our best, but we were being overwhelmed until the Anglia showed up."
"That's incredibly lucky." Hermione says as they fight through a tangle of thorns.
"It was. That car carried Ron and I all the way back to Hagrid's hut. We owe it our lives."
"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.
"What makes that- was a Malfoy house elf?" Hermione asks.
"Right, this I'm proud of." Harry chuckles, "So, Fawkes carried me and, " he looks at her, "the victim to Dumbledore's office. Who should be there but Draco's father trying to have Dumbledore dismissed! I explained what happened and then gave Mr. Malfoy his diary back in the hall, but not before sticking one of my socks in it. House 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."
"Why did you have Mr. Malfoy's diary?" Hermione asks.
"I think it was an artifact of Voldemort. Draco's dad slipped it into Ginny's cauldron back before school started and she started 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 by." She says, dimming her light and blinking to adjust her eyes.
"I see him!" Harry says, darting forward.
Hermione grabs his jacket and yanks him back, "Harry, that's not Buckbeak."
Indeed, the shape limbers up from the roots tree it had been crouched under. Long sinuous legs and an elongated muzzle, saliva dripping from its jaws. No wings. No beak.
The creature under Professor Lupin's bones prowls forward, the duo entranced and too terrified to move as he creeps closer. He growls, a low rumble that they feel in their chests more than hear. 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." 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. They turn, Harry careful to stay between Lupin and Hermione.
"Hermione close your eyes!" He shouts, coming up with an idea in the nick of time as the werewolf lunges. "Lumos Maxima!"
The light the blooms from the end of his wand almost bends reality. The clearing is thrown into stark relief, the shadows writhing away from the light, trees bleached; all color cast out of existence. Lupin's monster howls in pain, rearing up and away, his sensitive eyes streaming tears. He claws blindly as he twists, loping away from the pain. Harry, arm outstretched, screams as the claws rake his arm. The fierce light dies as his wand goes flying. Hermione can't see anything either, but she heard Harry's scream.
"Harry!" Slowly her vision comes back. Harry is in the dirt and she quickly drop to her knees to try and see the damage.
"What happened?" She asks.
"I think he clawed me." Harry groans, sheltering his arm. Hermione can barely see in the dim light, especially after the flare Harry cast, but what she can make out dorns't look good. His arm is shredded, from the bicep almost the the wrist has ragged rents in the skin bleeding into the torn jacket.
"This isn't good." Hermione says, trying to remember what she was taught, and those books she had read.
"Am I going to turn into a werewolf?" Harry asks breathlessly.
"Did you pay any attention to Snape's lectures? Only werewolf saliva can infect. I'm pretty sure you got clawed. It'll probably scar, but you shouldn't turn unless he bit you." She lectures.
"My jacket sleeve." Harry grunts, "tie it over the wound."
"I'm not sure it will fit." Hermione says weakly.
"You're telling me the brightest witch of her age can't find a way to make it work?" Harry challenges.
"Prat." She snaps, wracking her mind for something that will work, "But I think I have something." The process of removing Harry's jacket is delicate and painfully, but Harry stays still and doesn't make a sound. He gasps, and she can feel his pulse race and breathing quicken, but he doesn't scream or shout or vocalize at all. Once they have his arm free, the last part, Hermione starts casting.
"Reparo, Scourgify." The sleeve is made whole, the rents twining back together and the dirt falling off of it. She wraps his arm with the sleeve and ties off the rest in a crude sling.
"Well?" Harry asks.
"We need to get you to the hospital wing." Hermione says, knowing full well Harry would never agree to going straight there.
"After we save Sirius." He insists, climbing to his feet and staggering into her.
"Harry!" she yelps.
"I'm alright. Stood up too fast is all." he explains.
"You're probably exhausted from that Patronus and you lost a lot of blood." she cautions.
"I know. But we can't stop now." After some more wandering through the forest, they find Buckbeak tugging on one of the traps.
"Buckbeak!" Harry says weakly, staggering forward. The birdhorse, Or is it a horsebird? Semantics, bows to them and Harry clumsily bows. The Hippogriff looks at them for a moment before bowing back.
"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. 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 what to do, 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.