Harry sat up suddenly in bed his hand to his forehead. His scar was burning as if it were made of white-hot wire, and the pain wasn't fading. Harry knew what this meant: Voldemort. Voldemort was either nearby, feeling a strong surge of hatred, or trying to harm someone. Harry's stomach lurched. He didn't know how or why, but he suddenly knew it was the last one. Someone nearby was in danger. He tumbled out of bed fumbling to push feet into shoes and pull on his robes over his pyjamas.
"Ron! Ron! Wake Up!" he hissed urgently, shaking his friend. Ron turned over and cocked a sleepy eye toward Harry. Harry's alarm must have shown in his face for, suddenly, Ron was sitting up and moving quickly out of bed.
"What is it, what's wrong?"
"Someone's in danger, I can feel it!"
Ron's eyes widened but he did not ask Harry how he knew, he merely bent to shove his feet into shoes as Harry handed him his robes and they hurried out of the room.
"Who? Who's in danger?"
"I don't know," Harry said tensely as they rushed down the stairs. "Voldemort is trying to hurt someone nearby."
Ron went pale, "You-Know-Who is here?"
Harry rubbed his scar, he wished it would stop burning. "I don't think so, not in person"
As they ran into the common room there was a slight commotion. Harry was grateful to see Hermione rushing out from behind a table piled with books and parchment. Concern was written across her face.
"What's wrong?" she asked tensely
"Someone's in danger. Come on, just follow me!" Harry said leading the way toward the portrait hole. Harry moved down the corridor taking his direction from instinct alone. As they approached an open window Harry felt a particularly icy wind move against his flushed face and stopped dead in his tracks. He knew that feeling... There was a very faint shout from far below and Harry turned and went to the window, Ron and Hermione crowding on either side of him.
They could just see the near side of the lake. It was covered in an unnatural fog and two figures on the shore were being harassed by a large group of ... Dementors. Harry's stomach lurched again and, for a moment, he felt his nerve might fail him.
"Comeon, we've got to help!" Ron urged pulling at Harry whose knuckles were white with gripping the window ledge.
"Harry, it's okay, you can do it! You've done it before and we'll be there to help!" Hermione said desperately. Harry's eyes strayed toward the figures on the shore and he shook himself. His friends were right, they had to do something! He turned and rushed forward with Ron and Hermione at his side. When the breathless trio finally made it to the Entrance Hall they saw the large Oak doors were already standing open. They pelted through them and down the stone steps. As they reached the bottom a strange sight stopped them in their tracks.
At first, Harry couldn't quite make out what the uneven thing moving toward them in the darkness was. Hermione could, however. "Hagrid!" She cried in alarm moving forward past a confused Harry. Harry looked harder and saw that Hagrid was being supported between Snape and Dumbledore who were using their wands to help him move. Not far behind, Professor McGonagall was helping Isabel Clay walk toward the castle as well. He looked past them toward the lake. It's surface once again reflected starlight and moon. The Dementors were gone.
Dumbledore had held up a hand to warn Hermione back and she moved back up toward Ron and Harry. As the odd group moved into the light cast by the open doors, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned and rushed back up the stairs to hold the doors open wide for the four to pass through. When they had shut the doors they silently followed the group up to the hospital wing. The professors neither forbade nor encouraged them.
Dumbledore and Snape eased a still dazed Hagrid down to sit on a bed. McGonagall sat Isabel Clay down on the one beside him as Madam Pomfrey came rushing out.
"What is it?" She said sharply.
"Dementors," Dumbledore said, a dangerous edge to his voice, "Quite a number. Hagrid lost consciousness."
Pomfrey's alarm showed in her face, but not in her manner. She took in the sight of Isabel being assisted by McGonagall and asked,"Ms. Clay lost consciousness as well, then?"
"No, she did not." McGonagall replied.
Pomfrey stopped dead for a split second before turning to go back to her office for what Harry had no doubt would be a large block of chocolate. For his part, Harry had started a bit at the news that Clay had not lost consciousness. So, had Ron and Hermione.
Dumbledore looked grim. Snape also looked quite severe, but also confused. McGonagall was a bit pale and had begun pacing sharply as soon as she helped Isabel to sit on the edge of a bed. When Harry, Ron and Hermione reacted to the fact that Clay had not fainted she suddenly turned toward them as if noticing them for the first time.
"Mr Weasley, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, What were you doing out of bed and out of the castle at this hour!"
At McGonagall's questions Harry's hand unconsciously moved to touch his scar. The burning had stopped it was only prickling painfully now. Ron and Hermione looked at Harry as if willing him to be able to explain it.
To Harry's great surprise it was Snape who spoke up, "The scar."
Harry nodded, too stunned to actually speak.
As Pomfrey came back with chocolate, the best remedy for post-Dementor shock, Dumbledore motioned for everyone to take a seat. He, however, paced back and forth in a measured fashion. Finally, he turned to Harry.
"When did your scar pain you, Harry?"
"Not long before we ran into you," Harry answered, "It woke me up and I just -knew- someone was in danger. How did I know that?"
Dumbledore didn't answer but turned, instead, to a more alert but somewhat abashed Hagrid and Isabel (who was looking mutinously at the chocolate in her hand but not eating).
"Madam Clay, do you feel up to telling us what happened?"
At this, Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth indignantly, no doubt to protest Dumbledore's questioning her patients when they needed rest. She apparently thought the better of it (no doubt from long experience) and closed her mouth again. She turned sharply and walked to her office in a huff.
With a glance at Pomfrey's retreating back, Isabel set her chocolate on the bedside table.
"We were along the lakeshore watching Nestor when a fog rolled across the lake. I could never really make them out, but there was something - some sort of creatures in the fog. It was like they were aiming a sort of coldness at us, especially Rubeus. It was like they were attacking him without touching him. After he lost consciousness, I began to remember a lot of things I hadn't thought of in a long time..." Isabel trailed off here. Harry knew exactly the sort of things she was talking about.
"Unpleasant memories," Dumbledore said, more than asked.
"Yes."
"When you remembered these things what happened?" he asked.
"It was so strange, for a moment I felt as if I would just get lost in despair but then, all of a sudden, I was filled with incredible anger, indignation. Without thinking I just stood up and moved toward the, er, Dementors you call them? It seemed to me that they backed off a bit but then they started for us again, that's when you came."
Snape and McGonagall were listening intently. Dumbledore was nodding.
"If you don't mind, Isabel," he said, "Could you tell me which unpleasant memory you now remember most clearly as having come to you?"
Isabel's eyes brightened and she studied the bedcover upon which she was sitting for a moment before answering. I don't think I really can. It really wasn't one memory specifically. At first all I could feel was the feelings, but suddenly how I felt about the feelings... the anger over what I've seen people do... as a child... I..." Isabel trailed off.
"Ah. Righteous indignation. Was that all that was on your mind when you stood up to face the Dementors?"
"Yes, But I also remembered something - you wouldn't understand I think-" she trailed off.
"Please, allow us to try."
Isabel sighed. "I remembered what they taught me in Church School when I was little... before my parents died... that with God on our side we need not fear any evil." Both Snape and McGonagall looked faintly surprised. Ron's face was blank, and Hermione's was screwed up as if she were trying to figure out how this all fit together.
Dumbledore was smiling. "Ah, indeed. Thank you." He turned toward the group seated along the wall, "If Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, and Mr. Potter are feeling quite up to it, I would suggest you return to your dormitories and attempt to get some sleep. Severus, Minerva, I think that we have learned what we can tonight so you may wish to follow suit."
They all rose and moved toward the door, Ron and Hermione looking back at Hagrid. Harry, however, found himself hanging back. Dumbledore waved Ron and Hermione on and waited for the door to shut.
"Harry do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?" Harry shook his head.
"Something on your mind, then?" Dumbledore asked gently.
"Do you think Voldemort sent the Dementors?"
"It certainly seems possible."
"Why?"
"That I cannot answer."
Harry paused. He wanted Dumbledore to tell him that everything would be alright. But Harry knew that Dumbledore couldn't do that, and he felt mildly ashamed of wanting it.
"Will, Hagrid be alright?" Harry said, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.
"Yes, Hagrid will be fine, Harry. Why don't you say goodnight to him?"
Dumbledore walked Harry over to the beds where Hagrid and Isabel were sitting.
"I'm glad to see you looking better, Rubeus," He said to Hagrid, "I insist that you take the morning off. As for you, Madam Clay, I urge you to eat that chocolate, it will help. Good night."
With that, Dumbledore turned and was gone.
Harry smiled at Hagrid who smiled sheepishly back.
"Never done tha' afore." Hagrid said color rising in his face.
Harry remembered the feeling of shame he had in his third year, before he'd learned to deal with Dementors, when they caused him to lose consciousness. He rushed to re-assure Hagrid.
"Did you ever have a whole crowd of them going for you before?"
Hagrid shook his head then said softly, "Ruddy awful, them Dementors."
"Yes they are." Harry said emphatically
"What, exactly, are they?" Isabel asked from behind Hagrid.
"They are dark creatures, they infest foul places and make everyone around them miserable by sucking away all good feelings and forcing them to re-live bad memories." Harry said flatly. "They're very powerful. They can rob a wizard of their powers if he's left with them long enough." Harry paused, then said thoughtfully, "Muggles aren't supposed to be able to see them, though. You're, er, they're just supposed to feel depressed for no particular reason."
Harry suddenly realized that he'd as good as called Madam Clay a muggle.
"Well, good night." Harry added quickly, anxious to cover up his slip. After all, they didn't know for sure that Isabel Clay was a muggle. He headed for the door. Just before opening it he turned back and addressed Isabel. " They're right about the chocolate," he said and then he was gone.
When he got back to the Gryffindor common room Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. "Is Hagrid alright?" Ron asked.
"A bit embarrassed is all, they'll both be okay."
"Good."
"Harry," Hermione broke in excitedly, "we overheard McGonagall and Snape talking... we didn't mean to of course-"
"Anyway," Ron interrupted, "They were saying they thought the Dementors would have given Hagrid the kiss if Clay hadn't held them off."
Harry blanched. He hadn't thought of that. The Dementor's kiss was the most horrible thing a Dementor could do. They would "kiss" the victim, sucking the soul out and leaving them an empty, soul-less shell. The thought of that happening to Hagrid was, well, unimaginable.
"Dumbledore said he reckoned Voldemort sent them but he doesn't know why."
Ron's eyes widened, "But that means-"
"-they've joined Voldemort. If Azkaban Prison isn't already unguarded, it will be soon." Hermione filled in, her voice grave.
Harry felt a thrill of horror and dread. He was certain Hermione was right and the implications...
Just then the portrait hole swung open to admit McGonagall.
"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed, "Has Dumbledore contacted the ministry to tell them the Dementors have turned-" Hermione began but was halted by McGonagall's hand.
"Yes, Miss Granger, that has been done."
"If Fudge will listen," Harry muttered.
"Indeed, Mr. Potter. Yet that is not a matter with which you need concern yourselves. It has been a long night for all of us and it is time for the three of you to get to bed. Go." She waited until all three disappeared on the staircase before disappearing back through the portrait hole. Once in the corridor she permitted herself a deep sigh before making her own weary way to bed.
