The compartment gently rocked side-to-side, and the overhead light flickered for a moment – the others paying it no attention as he glanced at them out of the corner of his eye. He focused his gaze back on the window, straining to see past the long trails of water, and the slight condensation creeping up from the corners.

The world beyond the window was pitch-black, and he had no idea just how far along their journey they were. In the distance, a brief flash of lightning lit up a pair of mountains in the distance. He shifted in his seat.

The morning of his return to Hogwarts, had, in hindsight, mirrored the closing days of his summer – he had woken up, dressed in his school uniform, and had his breakfast with his family. Susan had been excited for the coming year, and for reuniting with her friends; she had visited those she could over the summer when they were at Blackwall, but it wasn't the same as their time at Hogwarts.

He'd understood her desire to spend time with her friends – while the two of them had grown closer over the summer, and he enjoyed her company, but she was no replacement for any of his friends. Despite the farce with Trevelyan turning up at Arpton and forcing him to extend his stay until he'd left, he'd enjoyed his summer – his birthday had been the best weekend ever.

There were so few days that he could remember when he didn't feel some mounting pressure from something or another, or even the expectations he had for himself – but when his friends had come over, he'd been able to be Harry.

It felt weird, knowing he'd spent more time with his friends than Susan had with hers. If it were up to him, he'd have had her friends around as well, or worked something out where Susan could go and visit. But then, he wasn't an adult – as Sirius had said upon his return from Hogwarts, adults usually sorted that kind of thing out, and, although he often thought otherwise, it was their job.

His thoughts drifted to the adults in his life – Sirius had been tense for days, like a coiled viper ready to strike. His eyes had been stormy, and his smiles forced. He'd never seen Sirius that way, and even now, as he thought back on it, the feeling of Sirius's magic, simmering around him, barely kept under control made shivers run down his spine.

He hoped Sirius would be alright.

Amelia had barely been home, always in the Ministry – she would leave early in the morning, and arrive home late in the evening, usually after they'd all eaten. Woopy had kicked up a storm about her abnormal eating times, but in the end, it was just his own way of showing he cared.

Harry hadn't missed the dark circles beneath her eyes that morning either; whatever it was that she was having to do at the Ministry, he feared it was beginning to take its toll on her. Susan had noticed also, the two of them having shared more than a few concerned glances before boarding the train.

Remus had, shockingly, been the most normal – Harry knew he was anxious about taking up his new position at Hogwarts, even if it was only to keep an eye on him. He wasn't worried though. Remus was an excellent teacher.

Those days spent in the library at Blackwall, huddled around a small table, and sat at a chair that was a little too large for him, while Remus taught him his numbers, and how to read and write were some of his fondest memories.

They'd milled around the house for an hour after breakfast – Susan had retreated to her room to make sure all of her things were packed, while Harry had spent some time with Arlan out in the stable. He'd not brought the stallion out of his stable, instead, he'd contented himself with gently stroking his face and murmuring quiet words to his horse.

Arlan had been patient with him, and, thankfully, not pushed to be let out for a run or a brush. He'd butted his shoulder more than once, playfully wrapping his lips around the folds of leather on his school coat, and his dark eyes had been soft and warm.

He already missed Arlan and felt terrible that he couldn't be with the fantastic creature for more of the year. When he'd first ridden a horse, he'd thought it the worst thing in the world at the time – the mare he'd travelled to the Capitol on had been nowhere near as exciting as flying a broom, and she'd barely listened to a thing he'd told her to do, far more content to follow both Sirius and Remus's mounts.

Now, he couldn't imagine his life without Arlan – he couldn't imagine not spending time with him, be it brushing him down, or pushing him to his absolute limits on the rolling plains beneath Arpton as the wild Aurochs watched on. Brooms were still fun, and he enjoyed playing Quidditch at Hogwarts, but it wasn't as exhilarating as working with the horse beneath him.

He exhaled softly, his shoulders drooping slightly as the desire to visit Arlan in his stable began to spread through his chest. He trusted the House Elves and Sirius to care for Arlan, but he couldn't help but wonder if he would be warm enough – if he had enough hay, enough water – had his bag of oats been refilled?

His hands clenched and unclenched – if there was one thing he was thankful for in these moments of anxiety, it was that his Familiars were already at Hogwarts. He was deeply attached to both Clara and Hedwig, and he was well aware that he was only supposed to have a single Familiar at Hogwarts as a student, but Gods, he couldn't imagine them not being there.

He'd sent them both ahead to Hogwarts with Dobby, along with his trunk. Dobby would make sure that his room was to his liking – he'd insisted on it, actually; quite vehemently, in fact. He could sense both of his birds to the north, both happy and excited – he was fairly sure Clara was fast asleep.

Unlike himself, Susan had opted to have Bones on the train with her – the Augurey had rarely left Susan's side since their return to England, and the blue-eyed bird rarely took his own eyes off of Clara; not that she gave him the time of day.

At first, Bones had made him laugh – the way the mournful-looking Irish Phoenix would puff up his greenish-black feathers and spread his wings whenever Clara would appear had made him think of a few of the older students at Hogwarts that he'd seen over the last two years.

In the later days of the summer, and especially once everyone had Apparated to the platform earlier that morning, Bones had stared at him quite unnervingly – at first, he'd thought it because Clara hadn't been with them, but there had been something about that unblinking stare that had unnerved him.

He'd shaken it off, putting it down to his nerves for returning to school, and his concern for Sirius and Amelia. Instead, he'd focused on the platform itself.

There had been a small crowd, which was to be expected for having arrived an hour early, and almost two dozen red-robed Aurors, each one more stone-faced and stoic than the last. Their eyes had been hard as they swept the crowd, and each one had a wand in their hands – at one point, he'd thought he'd even caught sight of a silver dagger in a holster on one of their belts, but it had happened so quickly, he couldn't be sure. No doubt, their presence heralded by the articles he had read in the Daily Prophet he had been reading.

Amelia had disappeared for a few minutes, hurrying over to a grizzly looking Auror with scars all over his face and half an ear missing, where the two talked quickly. He'd stopped looking when Susan had tapped his shoulder and began pointing out all sorts of Familiars.

There had been dozens, and they'd all been so varied – some he'd recognised from around the school before, like Lilith's black Jaguar; he'd seen the two of them board at the far end of the platform. No doubt that would make a few first-years jump. There had been others too – he'd seen a Puma, and he'd thought he'd even caught sight of Aspen, Lauren Calvert's wolf, but he hadn't been sure.

There were an ungodly number of owls and other birds – the second carriage had been positively covered in them. The owls had been quiet for the most part, only hooting or barking when one of the other birds got too curious. The others, species too numerous to count, hadn't been so quiet – it had been a miracle that the train hadn't become a zoo in the time since they'd left the station.

When Amelia had returned, and their goodbyes shared, Remus had escorted the two of them onto the train. It had felt like some significant thing, to have stepped foot back on the Hogwarts Express, surrounded by the scent of stained wood, burned ozone, and smoke from the train chimney. He'd paused, stopping at the doorway and looked back to Sirius.

He'd nearly ran back to him in that moment, when both of their eyes had met – there was something there that he wasn't understanding, and no matter how much he'd thought about it since, he still wasn't sure what it could have been. He'd turned and followed after Remus and Susan at Sirius's encouraging smile and wave, even though he could tell it was forced.

Remus and Susan hadn't gone far – only halfway down the carriage they'd entered; already there had been excited first years, perched on benches with their Familiars in their lap as they chatted to those around them. He'd smiled when some caught sight of him, and one girl had gone white as a sheet when her eyes had caught the barely-there scar on his forehead.

They'd passed into the compartments after that – the most sought-after seats on the train; they were perfect for sitting with friends, and for a modicum of privacy during the excruciatingly-long journey.

Susan had found Hannah Abbott first, sat chatting with Earnest Macmillan, and Blaise Zabini. The three had been delighted to see Susan, though each of them had seemed a little wary at his hovering presence – not that he could blame them; the Daily Prophet was still printing articles about Ruhxu once a week as her remains became available on the international market.

He'd left Susan after that, though he'd made sure she knew she was more than welcome to visit his compartment at any point during the trip – they'd had a string of luck, finding the next two after Susan's empty; Remus had taken the next one, and Harry's was last.

Remus had accompanied him to his own compartment, a comforting hand on his shoulder – they'd spoken for a few minutes, beyond the threshold of the door; pausing only long enough for Remus to place his cloak on one of the benches of his own.

They'd talked about nothing, really, just little things to fill the silence. Harry had claimed the bench with his back to Remus's compartment, and his eyes had been drawn to the gradually-filling platform. He'd spotted both Sirius and Amelia quickly, the two of them waving at him – Sirius had his arm around Amelia's waist, and her head had been resting against his shoulder – if it hadn't been for his sense of unease, he'd have thought them no different from the dozens of other parents strewn about the platform.

Remus had patted his shoulder after that and assured him that the two of them would be fine.

Harry somewhat doubted that.

Moony had left after that, the compartment filling with silence following the sharp click of the sliding door as Remus closed it behind him. He'd sat quietly for a time, content to let his mind wander, and his magic to rise to the surface.

He lost himself in it, feeling the way that it railed against the chains that he'd placed upon it, straining to get loose, to be used – it begged and pleaded, whispered and yelled. He'd stared at his right hand through it all, watching as a single tendril of crimson energy danced along the length of his fingers.

When the door had clicked open, he'd been so startled, lost as he was in the pseudo-meditation, that he'd almost allowed his magic to escape his fingers – Merlin, what an awful way to have started the year that would have been.

Though, seeing that it had been Hermione that had startled him so hadn't helped the racing of his heart. He'd shot to his feet, seeing her enter the small room, and he'd tried to smile at her like he always had, but there was something about it all that made his hands tremble, and his stomach feel like it was wrapped up in the most uncomfortable way. It was strangely addictive.

She was dressed in her uniform – no doubt all of his friends would be; it was much more preferable to getting changed on the train, though some insisted on it. His eyes had travelled the length of her body, and without any prompting, the image of her in a swimsuit had flashed in his mind.

He'd swallowed, while she'd grinned and hefted her trunk through the door.

It had taken another two seconds for him to shake himself out of it, rushing forward to take her trunk and to quickly slide it onto the railing across and above his seat, though when he'd turned back to Hermione, she'd suddenly, inexplicably, been there, almost nose-to-nose with him.

He'd always been close with Hermione – ever since the Troll – the two of them often exchanged hugs, and she'd even held his hand once or twice, but in the cramped confines of the compartment, he'd been all too aware of their close proximity. Before he knew it, she'd launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, while his own had wrapped around her middle instinctually.

The leather of his school cloak had creaked ominously as Hermione had squeezed him tightly. Her hair had tickled his nose, but he could smell that familiar shampoo she liked to use. The two had separated after a moment, and Hermione had beamed up at him, her cheeks tinged pink. He'd let her sit first, and he'd had to swallow again when he saw her tuck her pleated skirt beneath her legs as she sat down and crossed them.

The picture had flashed through his mind again. Merlin, he was glad he'd left it at Blackwall.

He'd sat down in his spot next to the window and shifted awkwardly when he realised their knees were touching – something Hermione didn't seem to care about, or, he figured, she didn't even realise.

Before he could say anything, a large, ginger Kneazle appeared, the very same one from their trip to Magical Menagerie the previous summer – Crookshanks, Hermione reminded him. His golden eyes had peered at him curiously, and he'd felt a brief wave of magic wash over him before Crookshanks leapt up into Hermione's lap and butted his head against his arm, purring as he rubbed against his sleeve.

Hermione had been thrilled, of course, and had gladly told him everything about her Familiar – though she had expressed some regret at not being able to spend her classes with Hedwig. He'd laughed at that, warning her that Hedwig was still just as likely to turn up in her room unannounced, regardless of Crookshanks' presence.

The two chatted happily, falling into that familiar cloak of comfort and ease that he enjoyed so very much. When Neville had arrived, his trunk banging against the doorframe as he shimmied it open, he'd almost forgotten that the others were supposed to be arriving soon.

Neville had stowed his trunk away and flopped down on the bench across from Harry with nary a care in the world; his hair, unlike his own, hung loose and in front of his face, while Harry's was tied into a messy bun at the back of his head – sometimes, he couldn't believe Augusta hadn't made him chop it all off.

The three of them had laughed and talked until Daphne had turned up – the Greengrass heiress hurrying into the compartment and closing it behind her, her chest heaving up and down, and a wild look in her eye. For the first time in his life, he'd thought she looked flustered.

He'd been about to ask why when he'd heard Astoria's voice on the far side of the door, accompanied by a gentle knocking. They'd all burst out laughing at that – except for Daphne, of course, who'd glared at the three of them before spinning and opening the door for her sister.

If it hadn't been for Daphne's imperious stance in the doorway, he was sure Astoria would have sprinted into the compartment and flung herself at him – in fact, he was still sure that had been her plan; especially after he'd seen how she'd leaned around Daphne and grinned at him.

When Daphne had eventually allowed her sister inside, and both girls had put their trunks away, Astoria had leapt at him, flinging her arms around his shoulders, and shuffling until she was sat in his lap. He'd groaned as she crushed his thighs, and she earned more than one admonishing look from Daphne, and even a warning from Hermione, but the look on her face when she'd showed him a spell she'd learned with her wand had been priceless.

Piper had contentedly curled up in the corner of the bench, at the far end to where Astoria had accosted him. Tracey had arrived just as he'd managed to get Astoria to take her own seat and let his thighs recover.

Tracey had been the final one of their little group to arrive – as usual – and she'd quickly dragged Daphne and Hermione into a conversation about the latest perfume she'd bought, while Astoria had been content to quietly talk to Piper, whose tail had beat a steady rhythm against the seat.

After that, it hadn't been long until the train had set off, lurching away from the platform with the familiar chuffing sound, and the shouted farewells of all the students and parents. They'd all waved to their families, who, he'd noticed, had all found one another among the crowd.

He'd watched the scenery flash by – at first, it had been the buildings of London, and the busy roads, and later on, it had become rolling countryside, and tall trees. Twice they had entered tunnels, and each time the lights in the ceiling had made sure they had been able to continue on with their conversations, or, in Hermione's case, read her books.

The temptation had been there, to call for Dobby and ask for a book of his own, but he'd chosen not to – his mind was in so much of a buzz, trying to work out, well, everything, that he'd wouldn't have been able to focus on the words.

When the restless energy he'd felt had finally gotten too much, he'd gotten up to go for a wander around the train – Neville had been fast asleep by that point, and he was sure they had just passed Sheffield. Daphne and Tracey were talking animatedly with their hands about something, and Astoria was curled up into Hermione's side, her eyes darting back and forth across the page in his fellow Gryffindor's lap.

He'd smiled to himself as he'd stepped out, rolling his shoulders as he passed Moony's compartment – a quick rap of his knuckles on the glass had the man standing before him in the doorway, a concerned look on his face, and his sheafs of parchment left abandoned on the seat behind him.

The two had exchanged only a few words – Harry letting the Marauder know he was just going to stretch his legs. With a nod, and a warning to be careful, he'd continued on his way further down the train.

It had been during the little jaunt along the train that he'd regretted not having his cloak with him – everywhere he went, there was a following pair of eyes and whispered conversation. Sometimes, he wished he could just fade into the background of the world and let someone else take the spotlight.

The pinched, but otherwise handsome features of Draco had ruined his mood when the two had met in the corridor outside of a compartment full of second year Ravenclaws. The blonde-haired Slytherin had remained in his place in the middle of the corridor, his group of friends behind him – Crabbe and Goyle had loomed like the pair of gorillas he was sure they were descended from, but he'd also spotted Parkinson; a brunette girl that, ordinarily, he would consider pretty if not for the ugly scowl on her face.

No words had been shared between them – despite the tension. His fists had clenched and unclenched at his sides, and he'd raised a challenging eyebrow at those in his way. Draco's face had remained remarkably neutral, only the glint of anger in his pale grey eyes giving him away. In the end, it had been Crabbe that stepped back and allowed him to pass.

After that, he spent only enough time to purchase some snacks from the bar toward the back of the train, making sure to get a little something for everyone, before returning and flopping down in his seat with a huff.

He talked with Hermione a little after that, talking about some of their homework over the summer, before she too, had dozed off, her head propped on his shoulder as she snored quietly, little tendrils of her curly hair rising and falling around her mouth.

It had been awkward at first, but eventually, he got used to it. He'd tried napping for an hour himself, only to give up and return to staring out at the world beyond the window. The sun had gradually set over the course of the afternoon and had finally given way to the crescent moon as they passed through a patch of thick pine trees.

The rain had started shortly after that and had given no indication that it planned to stop any time soon – it had been raining steadily for two hours, and the lightning had been fairly regular for an hour.

There was another flash, and there was a brief moment where he thought he caught sight of the shimmering reflection in a nearby river, though with all the raindrops on the window, it was entirely possible he imagined the whole thing.

The compartment rocked violently, and Hermione sat up with a yelp, her eyes were slightly dazed, and there was a strand of hair stuck to her cheek – something in his chest tightened uncomfortably as she stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. Astoria, on the far side of her, groaned and sat up with a stretch, her arms above her head.

Neville continued to sleep, with only the rise and fall of his chest, and a small grunt of annoyance to show that he hadn't, in fact, died without them realising. Daphne's sharp elbow to his ribs woke him when the compartment rocked again.

"Hngh, whassat for?" Neville groaned, rubbing his side as he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Making sure you hadn't died." Daphne answered with a smirk, while Tracey snickered behind her hand. Harry's lips quirked, watching as Neville went through the various stages of waking up.

"Are we there yet?" Neville muttered, stretching out his legs and rolling his ankles. "Gods, I'm stiff."

"No wonder – you've not moved for hours." Tracey scoffed, though her eyes were drawn to the flickering light next to the window.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" He groused, shooting Tracey a baleful look.

"Because you're an arse when you've just woken up." Harry offered with a grin.

"I do wish you would mind your language, Harry – Astoria might get the wrong idea." Hermione huffed, scratching the grumpy-looking Crookshanks behind the ears absently. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Neville asked, confused.

"The entire compartment just lurched." Harry answered, holding up his fingers. "Twice."

"Did we hit something?" Tracey frowned, inching forward on the bench.

"It was probably just a strong gust of wind." Daphne shrugged, her eyes focused on Astoria, who, when he looked around Hermione, was clutching Piper nervously, her eyes darting around the compartment as she chewed her bottom lip. "Nothing to worry about, alright?"

Astoria nodded, her hair bouncing on either side of her head.

The train stopped with a jolt, and Harry found himself almost thrown from his seat by the force of it, only his foot hastily coming up to brace against the bench on the far side stopping him from ending up in Neville's lap.

Astoria gave a squeal as Daphne caught her, wrapping her arms around her younger sister, while Hermione braced herself on his shoulder – both Crookshanks and Piper were flung from their seats, the Kneazle hissing angrily, and Piper growled menacingly at the door, his tail tucked between his hindlegs.

Harry glanced nervously around the compartment – the rain was hammering even harder against the window, and there was a chill in the air that he didn't think had been there before; or, perhaps, he was simply imagining it.

"I'm scared!" Astoria whined, curling up in Daphne's lap while her older sister gently stroked her head. Tracey stood and slid the door open, ducking her head out – from the sound of it, everyone in the carriage had the same idea. Students called back and forth between themselves, and he thought he heard Susan's voice.

"Everything's going to be alright." He said softly, reaching over to squeeze Astoria's hand. She nodded with a sniff and wiped the back of her hand under her nose.

"What can you see?" Hermione asked, and like everyone else in the compartment, he looked to Tracey. She shrugged and closed the door, sliding it closed with a sharp click, and flopping back into her seat on the bench.

"Nothing much." Tracey sighed, shrugging. "Everyone else looks just as confused – I saw Remus heading down to the front of the train. Probably going to go speak to the Aurors I saw earlier or something."

"You think they might know something?" Neville frowned, his wand in his hands as he fiddled with it absently. Harry was sorely tempted to do the same.

"Makes sense – we never have Aurors on the train. Something must be up. Did Amelia say anything to you about it?" Daphne frowned, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she looked to him.

He shook his head slowly, his lips pressed tightly together. "No – I didn't even realise there were Aurors on the train. I only saw the ones on the platform."

The lights in the ceiling flickered out, and Astoria moaned into Daphne's shoulder. Crookshanks darted onto the bench between Neville and the window, hissing and swiping a paw at the frosted glass.

"What's gotten into him?" Neville frowned, inching away from the Kneazle warily.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione huffed, picking the Kneazle up before settling down in her seat again. Despite the situation, Harry couldn't help the lump that formed in his throat when he felt Hermione's hip against his own. "What's the matter with you?"

"Maybe he could hear something outside?" Tracey offered, stepping around Piper and shuffling between everyone's feet to peer out of the window.

"What could possibly be out there in this weather?" Neville huffed, inching toward the window himself. "It's a nightmare out there."

Harry blew out a breath and resisted the urge to pull his hair out of the knot and run his fingers through it. Something about it all didn't sit well with him – his muscles were tense, and his magic was bubbling just beneath the surface.

"Gods, there's actually something out there – I saw it move!" Neville gasped, jabbing his finger at the glass. He turned to Tracey. "Did you see that?"

"No, where?"

"Right there! It was only for a second, but…"

"Perhaps the two of you should get away from the window? And possibly stop looking for things in the dark that might make people more nervous than they already are?" Daphne snapped, tipping her head toward Astoria.

Both Neville and Tracey looked chagrined at that, murmuring soft apologies as they slid back into their seats. Harry's eyes drifted first to Hermione, who was nervously running her fingers down Crookshanks' flank, while Daphne and Astoria were slowly rocking back and forth.

The carriage rocked again, so violent it was with its sudden motion, that Astoria tumbled out of Daphne's grip, falling into Tracey with a groan. Even through the closed door, it was easy to hear the frightened screams from those further down the carriage. A scraping noise on the roof cried out in the darkness, and Harry stared up at the ceiling nervously.

"Merlin, look at the window!" Neville muttered.

His head spun, and his jaw clenched at the sight of ice creeping across the glass. His heart pounded in his chest, his breaths coming in short bursts – he felt Hermione grip his wrist, her fingers ice cold. When he looked at her, blinking rapidly, he could see puffs of mist with each rapid rise and fall of her chest, her shoulders heaving.

The two of them were hardly the only ones in the compartment scared – Daphne and Tracey were gripping each other tightly, their eyes darting around the small room, and Neville clutched Astoria to his chest. Both Piper and Crookshanks stood with their hackles up, glaring at the door, growling, and hissing, respectively.

A scraping noise, like the sound of ice scraping together drew his eyes to the window – his heart in his throat. A long, skeletal finger drifted over the glass, small cracks in the ice forming in its wake. He held his breath as it drifted ever further upward, until, finally, it disappeared.

He released the breath, and rubbed his hands together, just before the carriage trembled one more time, and the startled screams of those in the other compartments reached his ears. Hermione wrapped a trembling arm around his own, and loathed as he was to do it, he gently pried it free and flicked his wand into his hand, his tongue darting out to wet his lips nervously.

"Everyone, away from the door." He said, getting to his feet enough for Hermione to shuffle past him. Across from him, Daphne and Tracey disentangled themselves, and he saw their own wands flicking into their trembling hands – Hermione, when he glanced at her, already had her wand in-hand, and aimed at the door.

Outside the door, there was a brief, sudden sound of glass shattering, and the roaring boom of thunder overhead – his hand clenched around the handle of his wand, an icy chill formed in the pit of his gut, and his legs trembled violently. The sudden urge to moan struck him, but he had to remain strong – for his friends, and for little Astoria.

There was a deep moaning sound, otherworldly in its origin – like a thousand voices, all calling out in despair, and it made that pit of ice in his stomach twist and churn painfully. His extremities were cold with the mounting terror it heralded, and the world lurched violently around him, his vision darkening in the corners.

Beyond the glass into the hallway, he saw the floating robes first, shredded tendrils floating unnaturally before whoever, whatever, it was that had just boarded the train. The figure floated along, long, dark, skeletal fingers reaching out beyond the sleeves of whatever cloak they were draped in. As they moved, ice formed along the glass and the wood, crinkling, and crackling painfully as it spread.

He ground his teeth as the figure approached the door, and his shoulders tensed, but the figure continued onward, past the door, and eventually out of sight. He breathed a sigh of relief and fell back against the wall behind him as his legs gave out from beneath him, his chest heaving and the darkness in the corners of his eyes receding.

"Is – is everyone alright?" He panted, looking around at everyone.

Hermione nodded, her own wand-arm dropping limply to her side as her shoulders shook violently. Her hair, which fell about her shoulders, fell forward as she buried her face in her hands as she quietly sobbed.

On his other side, Astoria was moaning into Neville's chest, her hands fisting the leather of his coat as her body trembled – Neville, on the other hand, looked at him vacantly, his mouth forming silent words as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes.

Tracey slumped to the side, having been the closest to the door – like Neville, her gaze was vacant as she stared through the far bench. The little puffs of mist forming before her face, and the slight rise and fall of her chest were the only confirmation that she was still breathing.

Daphne seemed to be in the best state, looking only slightly more pale than usual – her blue eyes met his quickly, before she hurried to pull Astoria into her own lap. With trembling arms, Harry pushed himself back up and shrugged his coat off, draping it over Tracey and brushing the hair away that had fallen over her face.

"Will she be alright?" Daphne asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know – what was that thing?" He answered, looking over his shoulder at Hermione and Neville. "I don't think I've ever heard of anything that could do that just by passing by."

Daphne shook her head, her hand smoothing the hair at the back of Astoria's. "I don't know either, maybe-"

A scream ripped the air, and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end – he recognised the voice.

Susan.

Without hesitating, he threw the door open and darted into the corridor; ice covered the entire length from floor to ceiling. Behind him, the constant thudding of raindrops against the carpet revealed how the creature had entered the train.

Two doors down, the ominous, billowing robes of whatever it was, were visible just beyond the threshold of the door. He could hear the screams of the students – the low moans of the boys, and the shrieks of Susan, and, no doubt, Hannah Abbott.

He rushed forward, his feet fighting for purchase on the slippery surface beneath him; his arms flaring out at his sides as he fought for balance. He slid to a halt, just past the door to Remus's compartment, which, he was thankful to spot, was indeed empty. "Hey!" He shouted, and the screams turned to pained whimpering as the being floated back into the hallway.

That familiar, cold feeling in the bottom of his gut returned, and the deep, guttural moan assaulted his ears once again. He snapped his wand up, his hand trembling as the creature placed its skeletal fingers against the wall and floated toward him.

He thrust his wand forward, the powerful, crimson lance of magical energy leaping from the tip of his wand and streaking down the corridor toward the black cloaked being. The spell was powerful enough to shatter bones on impact, but when the spell struck the creature that was advancing on him, it barely shrugged.

Harry backed up quickly, firing off two more spells before slipping on the slick floor and landing heavily. The wind was knocked out of him, and he groaned as he scrambled for the wand that had rolled from his hand. He blinked quickly, the darkness creeping along the edges of his vision as the foul thing moved closer and closer. His blood turned to ice within his veins, and his limbs began to tremble.

When the fear had almost paralysed him, a bright figure appeared at the far end of the carriage. It was hard to make out, but it seemed to look vaguely familiar – it was hard to tell, with his vision blurred and unfocused. The luminous figure leapt forward, howling viciously as it charged the dark creature.

Whatever it was, the terrifying creature in black screamed in agony as the creature of pure, brilliant white light collided bodily with it. The two swirled around one another for a moment, and all Harry could do was watch as they struggled – after a moment, the dark creature pulled away and dived out of the previously smashed window.

With whatever it was gone, Harry found his breathing easier, the fear in his gut leaving him, and his limbs ceased their trembling. He breathed out a sigh of relief as his vision cleared, and he found himself face-to-face with a glowing wolf.

It was beautiful, semi-transparent with wisps of brilliant white magic whipping back and forth, like its wind was caught in a breeze. He reached out a hand, palm out-stretched, and gasped as the wolf nuzzled into it – its nose was even a little damp.

Shockingly, amazingly, he laughed; the startled sound barking out in the silence of the corridor as students' heads popped out from their compartment doors.

"Merlin, what's that thing?"

"Is it Potter's? He's a wolf, right?"

"What was that thing?"

"I want me Ma'!"

The wolf nuzzled his hand one more time and gave it a rough lick before fading away into nothing. Harry sat there, blinking dumbly as he tried to comprehend the spectre that had no doubt saved him. What had it been? Was it a manifestation of his Family Magic, or something else?

A shadow appeared before him, and a second later, Harry found himself staring into the familiar amber eyes of Moony, the flecks of gold glinting in the light as the overhead lights flickered to life.

"Remus?"

"Easy there, Harry – take it easy." Remus muttered, cupping his face, and tilting it this way and that. A few moments later, Remus smiled at him and pulled him to his feet. "Are you alright? Does anything feel weak, or not quite right?"

"I-I'm fine, I think." Harry frowned, swaying back and forth for a moment as Remus gripped his shoulders. "What was that thing?"

"A Dementor – one of the guards of Azkaban." Remus frowned, briefly bending down, and picking up his wand and handing it to him; he accepted it gratefully and slid it into his holster. "Nasty things, and you were lucky to have suffered only a mild exposure."

"A mil- Merlin, it was in there with Susan!" Harry gasped, pushing past his uncle, and rushing to the door of Susan's compartment. There were the familiar faces of Earnest Macmillan, Eirene Taylor, and – he breathed out a sigh of relief – Susan, huddled around the convulsing forms of Hannah Abbott and Blaise Zabini. "Are they alright?" He asked, blinking as his head swam for a moment as he fell against the doorframe.

"Harry!" Susan gasped, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. "I don't know what's wrong!"

Remus hurried into the compartment, shuffling past him, and knelt between the two students on the floor – the tip of his wand pressed lightly between their eyes as a soft, white glow pulsed rhythmically in short bursts. Once he had done that with Hannah, Remus shifted to do the same to Blaise – both students instantly falling still.

"Dementor exposure – they should go directly to the Hospital when we arrive at Hogwarts with the others." Remus said, sliding his wand away.

"Others?" Eirene asked in a quiet voice, her eyes staring at Zabini's still form, her hand gripping both his and Macmillan's. "There were others like these two?"

"All along the train, I'm afraid – the Aurors and I drove them off; we'll be safe now."

"But what if they come back?" He asked, his voice tight, even as Remus glanced over his shoulder at him. "Oh, no fear of that, I'm sure – Dementors rarely return to where they've been driven away from. Enough of that, let's get you back to your compartment."

Remus offered a few quiet words to Susan and her friends as he got to his feet, and Harry stepped back enough to give him some room. Has the man stepped past him, Harry gave one final look at Susan, and asked, "Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine." She answered, smiling tightly. "Thanks, for distracting it." Behind her, he spotted Bones balancing precariously on a small table attached to the wall, his wings fluttering in an attempt to stay upright.

"It was the least I could do." He nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" He added, pushing off from the doorframe.

"I will." Susan nodded, both Earnest and Eirene smiling thankfully at him, though they still looked a little pale in the light of the compartment. He closed the door behind him, and turned to face Remus, who was looking at him, a slight frown tugging at his brow. "Everything okay?" He asked, groaning as his shoulder throbbed.

"Oh, no need to worry about me, Harry." Remus sighed, waving his wand at his shoulder as he drew level. "Bit of bruising in the morning, I'm afraid."

"I must've landed on it." He muttered, rolling it carefully – thankfully, the ice had disappeared from the corridor; Remus's doing, no doubt. "You said the Dementors were the guards of Azkaban, right?" Remus nodded, slowly, his lips pursed. "What the hell are they doing here?"

Remus sighed and stopped before his cabin door and rolled his jaw side to side absently. "They're being used to find someone – someone very dangerous, and before you ask, no, I won't tell you who."

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes, while Moony chuckled.

"You're as curious as both your parents." Remus smirked, placing a hand between his shoulder-blades as he continued to guide him back to his friends. "It was a brave thing you did, distracting that Dementor; you very well could have saved young Hannah's life – she was the worst affected of the two."

"Will she be alright?"

"After a night with Poppy and Andromeda, she'll be as good as new."

He blinked, his hand on the handle of the sliding door. "Andromeda?"

"Sirius didn't tell you?" Remus hummed, innocently. "Andromeda will be working full-time at Hogwarts from now on – until you graduate, at least. Same as me."

He grinned before throwing his arms around Remus's shoulders; to know that Remus would be at the school all-year-round had been the best news he'd received in ages, and had been welcome during the crisis with Ruhxu, but to hear that Andromeda would be there too?

"Come, your friends are probably anxious." Remus smiled, patting his back gently, deftly avoiding his sore shoulder. Harry nodded and opened the sliding door, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of his friends.

Astoria was sound-asleep in Daphne's arms, her hair tucked behind her ears, and her nose scrunched slightly – disturbed by the noise of the door most likely. Neville and Tracey were propped up against one another, both pale and looking thoroughly exhausted – Daphne didn't look much better.

Hermione collided with him, her arms squeezing his sides painfully before she quickly pulled back, her eyes sweeping his face. "Are you alright? When the lights came back on, we looked out the door for you, but noticed you were with Remus, and we thought, well-"

"Rambling." Harry grinned teasingly. "I'm fine, and Susan is too – Hannah Abbott and Blaise Zabini are going to need to see Madame Pomfrey. What about you lot, are you alright?"

"A little shaken up, but-" Hermione gasped, stepping back from his quickly as she looked over his shoulder. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Professor Lupin!"

"Remus, Hermione – you've known me long enough, I think." Remus chuckled from behind him, and Harry rolled his eyes again as he shuffled past the flustered Gryffindor. "My, you all look like you got quite the dose of exposure as well – let me help with that. Come, sit in a line – best leave Astoria where she is, Harry. Might do her some good too."

Harry nodded, his hands falling back to his side as he sunk into the bench across from Neville. Hermione sat on the edge of the bench next to Daphne, between the Slytherin and the door – her leg bouncing anxiously. Like before, Remus muttered something beneath his breath, and pressed the tip of his wand to each of their foreheads – a brief flash of white light illuminating the room, and then he would move on to the next.

Remus stood with a grunt when it was all over and tucked away his wand – each of his friends looked much better than before. "You said others were affected, like Hannah and Blaise. Anyone we would know?" Harry asked, groaning as the compartment rocked gently – the train was moving again.

"I saw an Auror seeing to a pair of older Gryffindors earlier, but there'll be others up and down the train, I'm sure. No doubt the Aurors are seeing to them as we speak."

"Professor – what was that thing?" Hermione asked, quickly hurrying to return to her spot next to Harry.

"A Dementor, a guard of Azkaban. Now, I'm sure you have many questions, but I'm afraid I really must check the rest of the train and have a word with the driver."

"Be careful, Moony." Harry said, looking at Remus anxiously when the man was halfway through the door. Remus paused and offered a quick wink before setting off, making sure the door was closed before he did so.

His head fell against the back of the seat with a dull thud. Gods, what a start to the year.


Their arrival at Hogwarts had been heralded by the flashing of white-blue forks of lightning, thunderous claps of thunder that seemed to shake the carriages they had rode in on, and the torrential downpour of rain.

If it hadn't been for the Thestrals, which seemed entirely unconcerned by the weather and more than able to pull the carriages along the muddy path between the station and Hogwarts itself, he had no doubt that they'd all be stuck out there, soaked to the bone, instead of sat along the benches of the Great Hall.

High above, in the rafters of the large room, dark clouds roiled and flashed as they mimicked the sky outside, and floating above the tables, just out of reach, were the hundreds of candles; their little flames dancing this way and that as they bobbed up and down.

He leaned against the wood of the table; his chin propped up on the heel of his palm as his eyes swept the Gryffindor table. Neville sat to his right, and Hermione to his left – across from him were Parvati, Lavender, and Lauren, all murmuring quietly with one another about the trouble on the train. Further up the table, to his right, he spotted Ron, Seamus, and Dean talking animatedly, and beyond them were the Twins and the rest of the Gryffindor team.

Oliver was hunched forward, his face focused while he used his wand to demonstrate a Quidditch manoeuvre – no doubt he had a dozen strategies for this year's season, though both Angelina and Katie were looking like they were paying attention, despite the best efforts of Fred and George.

To his left, where the younger years would sit, he spotted the familiar red hair of Ginny; she was paler than he remembered, or perhaps it was just the light of the Hall. She sat between Demelza and Colin, who, thankfully, didn't have his camera.

On the far side of Hermione's Dorm-mates, sat the Slytherin table, the green banner of the House hanging proudly. The flickering light of the candles caught the silver serpent, and for a split second, he was reminded of Ruhxu's mounted skull in Arpton, with its bands of Mithril.

He dropped his gaze and met the eyes of Daphne – she was looking at him intently, her chin propped against her fist as she frowned at him. He blinked, confused, and realised she must have caught him staring at the banner above her; after everything at the end of the year, he couldn't blame her for keeping an eye on him, especially with the Dementor.

Tracey was seated next to her, rolling her eyes as Theodore Nott tried to talk to her – judging from the look on her face, whatever he was saying was less than impressive.

He'd never really considered Theodore before – he was the heir to House Nott, a Noble Family of some wealth and power within the Wizengamot, but in truth, he'd never spoken to him. He certainly looked friendly enough – he looked handsome, and had black, messy hair; it actually reminded him of his own when it was short.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, his eyes raking the Ravenclaw table – Lilith Kullens was easy to spot, sat imperiously among Sue Li, Padma Patil, Lisa Turpin, and Isobel MacDougal. He briefly wondered what would become of their Parselmouth lessons this year – they'd been postponed over the summer break, but he'd heard nothing about it from either Sirius or Remus.

Susan was the last person he spotted, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Both Blaise and Hannah had been rushed to the hospital the moment they'd arrived at Hogsmeade Station, and he'd noticed a number of others that had been hurried away too.

He turned his attention to the head of the Great Hall. It had been changed – before, there had just been one single, long trestle table for all of the staff to sit at, with the Headmaster in the middle. Now, the platform was much higher, and tiered.

The top-most tier had Dumbledore's gilded throne, and two chairs on either side; he assumed for the Heads of House, though he couldn't be sure – Dumbledore was the only adult in the room, standing quite patiently at his podium, with his hands behind his back and an easy smile on his face.

Right below Dumbledore's table, were three tables, each with eight chairs at each, and so it went for the rest of the tiers of seating until it reached the slightly raised dais where the Headmaster continued to watch over them.

Before the dais, settled at the foot of the gilded plinth, was the stool and the Sorting Hat – it looked just as ragged as it had the previous year.

He continued sweeping his eyes around the Hall, smiling briefly at the Gryffindor banner hanging proudly above their table. Hermione had been drawn into the conversation with her Dorm-mates, and Neville was happily chatting away with Steven Galeman.

Steven was on the heavier side, Harry thought, but was one of the easiest in all of Gryffindor to get along with. In fact, not once in both years had he heard anyone, not even those in the other Houses, say one disparaging thing about the boy.

A bang echoed across the room, followed by a golden flash of light. Harry peered around Neville, leaning back on the bench as he looked toward the Headmaster, who was holding his wand up in the air, gentle sparks trailing through the air and settling around him before fading away.

"Greetings, one and all to yet another year at Hogwarts. In just a moment, our newest students will enter through that door and will be sorted into their Houses, but before that, I would like to take this time to speak to you all." The Headmaster said, his voice ringing out clearly in the sudden silence.

"It came to my attention last year, that there was a heinous case of bullying within these halls. While at this school, the staff here are responsible for the safety of every single one of you – mentally, physically, and even emotionally." Dumbledore's eyes swept the room, and Harry shivered when they focused on him. "We failed."

"What's he talking about?" Neville whispered to him, glancing over his shoulder. Hermione made a shushing noise.

"Hence forth, let it be known that there will be a change at this school. Repeats of the last year will not be tolerated, and those that are found breaking the rules set forth by your Head of House will be punished most severely – do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore!" The entire Hall chanted, and Harry squirmed in his seat as a low rumble of murmuring filled the room. Before he could say anything, Dumbledore raised his arms, and the large doors opened.

Professor McGonagall stood there, a small army of first year students, staring with wide eyes, and open mouths standing just beyond the threshold as they gasped at the Great Hall. He could relate – when he'd first seen it, the Great Hall had felt like the most magical place in the world.

His eyes swept the faces of the younger children, and grinned when he saw Astoria in the crowd, her dark hair tied back in a high, loose ponytail – she grinned and waved at him excitedly. The trembling, timid girl that the Dementor had left in its wake had long-since disappeared. He waved back, offering her a quick thumbs up.

"What House do you think?" Neville muttered, gently nudging his side.

"Not a clue – Slytherin, maybe. Could you imagine Daphne's face if she sorted in there?"

Neville snickered, and the two of them grinned over at Daphne, who was sat glaring at the two of them; Tracey at her side, a hand over her mouth as she tried not to laugh too.

The first student was called, and Harry tuned the process out – he was only interested in hearing where Astoria was going, after all. Behind him, Hufflepuff cheered, and the boy rushed to sit with his Housemates.

The process was slow, but Harry cheered when necessary, and clapped when he was supposed to. His stomach growled uncomfortably, and he winced.

"Greengrass, Astoria!" Professor McGonagall called, and Harry sat up, a hand on Neville's shoulder as he strained to lean around him. Behind him, he could hear Hermione laughing to herself.

Astoria stumbled forward, her eyes wide, and her hair bobbing with each hurried step – her hands were clenched at her sides, but when she turned to sit on the stool, she had such a fierce look of determination on her face. McGonagall placed the hat on her head, almost swallowing it entirely, and Astoria went absolutely still. Harry held his breath.

"Gryffindor!"

Harry leapt to his feet, cheering the loudest, and clapping proudly – Neville and Hermione were the next on their feet, and he laughed as Astoria practically threw the hat from her head and charged down the aisle towards him, grinning from ear-to-ear.

She slammed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he stumbled back – if it hadn't been for Hermione's steadying hand, he was sure the two of them would have gone flying. He laughed as he patted her back and nodded thankfully at Neville as he shifted to make room for her.

"Daphne's going to be miserable!" Neville laughed, and as they turned to glance at the Slytherin, neither of them could stop the laughter that was caused by the sight of Daphne with her head in her hands, and Tracey gently rubbing her back; her own grin and amusement when she looked at the four of them quite clear.

Astoria shuffled into the seat next to him, and gave Neville a quick hug – the Longbottom heir playfully tugging on one the loose strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail. Harry leaned over to Hermione. "You'll have someone in Gryffindor other than Neville and me now."

"Oh no, she's all yours." Hermione scoffed as the ceremony continued, the noise at the Gryffindor table thankfully quiet once again. "It'll be nice to have another girl with us, though."

"What do you mean? It's been Neville and me as the only boys the entire time! We've been disgustingly outnumbered this entire time."

She patted the back of his hand and pressed her lips together – something lodged itself in his throat, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. "I'm sure you'll survive."

"Not when Daphne gets hold of me – she'll flay me alive for making a Gryffindor out of her sister!" As he said the words, as intended as a joke as they were, a cold pit of dread filled his stomach, not dissimilar to the feeling the Dementor had inspired. "Merlin," He muttered. "She'd actually do it too."

He glanced over to the Slytherin table, and physically flinched as he met Daphne's cold glare. He swallowed nervously.

"Don't worry." Hermione said, nudging his shoulder. "I'll protect you from the big, bad Slytherin."

He narrowed his own eyes at the girl beside him. "You've been spending too much time with Sirius."

"Kotak, Aahana!" Professor McGonagall called as he glanced back at the ceremony. A girl with light brown skin stepped forward; her black hair falling about her shoulders and trailing down to the middle of her back. She walked with her head held high, but he could see the nervous flexing of her fingers.

Like Astoria, when the hat went on her head, it threatened to swallow her whole. "Ravenclaw!"

The girl hopped off the stool and grinned the whole way to the Ravenclaw table – Harry smiled as she immediately began talking with a few of the other fresh Ravenclaws.

He tuned the rest of the names out – Gryffindor received another seven first years after that, with the rest going to the other Houses. Unlike the other years, however, McGonagall didn't immediately remove the hat and stool, causing him to frown.

"Now that the traditional Sorting is complete, I'm happy to announce the transfer of a new student – if you would please join the rest of us, Mister Griffin?" Professor McGonagall called, looking toward the door.

Harry blinked and spun in his seat – he'd completely forgotten about Cai! He watched as Cai stepped through the door calmly, his dark eyes sweeping the faces of everyone as they looked at him. There were murmurs at all the tables, from the girls in particular.

Cai nodded politely at him, and for a moment, Harry thought he might even go so far as to bow – though thankfully he didn't. He smiled and gave an encouraging thumbs up.

The two of them had spoken a little after the meeting at Arpton – both Cai and his father had stayed the night at Arpton and had departed for their own lands shortly before they had returned to England. He found Cai to be pleasant company – the older boy had an easy charm about him, and a dry sense of humour that he could appreciate.

Unlike the first years, Cai sat on the stool confidently. When Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head, it had barely been there for a second when "Ravenclaw!" was loudly proclaimed.

Cai grinned, his white teeth flashing to the delight of both Parvati and Lavender, and quickly hurried to the Ravenclaw table – Harry didn't miss that Cai had positioned himself so that he faced his direction. He rolled his eyes with a smile and inclined his head as he clapped, silently congratulating his future Bannerman – Cai bowed his head in thanks, just before he was swept up in the congratulations of those around him.

Dumbledore's voice rang out once again, and Harry turned to look at the Headmaster. "Welcome new students, welcome! Now, before we begin our magnificent feast, I'm sure our returning students have noticed the change in décor behind me." The Headmaster gestured to the tiered seating behind him. "Please, join me in welcoming the staff of Hogwarts!"

The Headmaster began clapping, the rest of the Hall quickly following suit as a procession of professors of all ages – some looked freshly graduated, while others looked to be close to Dumbledore's age, walked into the hall, each professor he recognised was leading a trio of unfamiliar faces.

He spotted Remus, who threw him a cheeky wink as he led a group of men along the aisle. The first was a broad, blonde man – the sides of his head were shaved, while the top was swept back, a finely trimmed beard covered the lower half of his face.

Behind the blonde man, was a tall, brown-skinned man with an angular face and thick, dark hair – unlike the man before him, this man had dark stubble running along his jaw.

The last in Remus's entourage was the most intimidating – he was taller than the previous two, with white hair tied in a loose bun at the back of his head, and yellow eyes. Harry shivered as he felt the full weight of the man's stare and breathed a sigh of relief when they passed.

Remus wasn't the only familiar face – he also spotted Micca, his Parseltongue instructor, walking behind Professor Dots, and couldn't help the enthusiastic cheer he gave as Hagrid passed; the large man grinning down at him from behind his thick, bushy beard.

Andromeda wasn't among them. Had Remus been wrong?

Harry watched as they all shuffled to their seats and sat as one – Harry offering a quick wave to Remus, who grinned at him. "Welcome, faculty, new and old. Let me just say, I look forward to seeing each of you pass your knowledge on to our students." The Headmaster said, holding his hands out for quiet.

"Now, before we begin our feast and our minds become befuddled by tasty treats, I would like to say a few words. Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures professor, has decided to retire, in order to spend some more time with his remaining limbs."

A smattering of laughter danced around the hall, and Harry found himself chuckling along with them – the eccentric professor had always had some injury or another.

"Fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be taken, by none other, than our very own, Rubeus Hagrid!"

The Hall clapped their applause, Gryffindor the loudest, as the Headmaster gestured to the giant of a man, who stood awkwardly from his chair, looking rather flustered at the attention. Behind him, Hermione cheered – Hagrid had always been exceedingly kind and gentle in their classes, and Harry knew that the large man was her favourite, after McGonagall, of course.

Fred and George whistled loudly.

"As I'm sure a number of you are aware, our dear Madame Pomfrey is not with us tonight – but rest assured, she is still in the school; she, and the other Healers that have been brought on to help look after all of you, are currently in the Hospital Wing, making sure that your friends are all returned to you in the best of health."

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. That made more sense.

"Finally, on a more disquieting note, following the tumultuous events that you all encountered on the train this evening, it is my duty to inform you all, that, at the request of the Ministry of Magic, until further notice, Hogwarts will play host to the Dementors of Azkaban."

As panicked whispers erupted all around him, Harry scowled and looked to Remus, sharply, who nodded solemnly. If those things were going to be at Hogwarts all year…

"The Dementors have been placed here in an attempt to capture a dangerous individual – who that individual is, neither I, nor the staff behind me, are at liberty to say. What I will say, is that the Dementors will be stationed at every entrance and exit to the grounds, and while I've been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities; a word of caution."

Harry swallowed at the hard tone to the Headmaster's voice – the deep, guttural moan of the Dementor echoing in his mind.

"Dementors are vicious beings; they will not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who gets in their way. Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you to give you no reason to harm you – it is not in the nature of a Dementor to be forgiving. As such, staff and Prefects will be monitoring curfew much closer, until such a time that the Dementors are removed from the grounds."

Down the table, someone hissed a curse under their breath.

The Headmaster held a finger up in the air on each hand, his blue eyes peering over his half-moon spectacles. "But you know, happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times." He paused, only long enough to wave a hand and extinguish a nearby candle. "If one only remembers, to turn on the light." With a final wave of his hand, the candle re-lit, flaring far more brightly than before.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together and rubbed them quickly, and Harry found himself blinking, startled at the sudden noise. "Now, with that dreadful notice out of the way, why don't we all cheer ourselves up with a wonderful feast!"

As the Headmaster lifted his arms, plates and dishes full of delicious foods appeared all along the table – at his side, tucked between himself and Neville, Astoria gasped and immediately launched herself at the food, grabbing a bit of everything as quickly as her hands could move.

Neville laughed, and Harry found himself glad for the sudden distraction – the news about the Dementors had shaken him, something he hadn't realised until the food had arrived. He grinned as the smells of the various dishes wafted under his nose, and his mouth began to water instantly.

He felt terrible about not being able to eat any of it.

However, when he glanced down at his plate, any feeling of guilt over the food on the table was washed away at the sight of the roast dinner – it was chicken breast, crispy roast potatoes, roasted parsnips, carrots, peas, and sweetcorn, all covered in a generous helping of gravy.

Silently thanking Dobby, he picked up his knife and fork and dug in – the meat was deliciously moist and seasoned with a heady mix of herbs and spices that danced on the tip of his tongue. To his right, Astoria shoved a chicken kebab into her mouth, her hand gripping the base of the wooden stick like a sword.

"This is the best I've ever had!" Neville moaned around the mouthful of cottage pie.

"You say that every time you have it!" Lavender cried, waving her fork in Neville's direction from across the table.

"Because it's the best!" Neville defended himself, and Harry chuckled quietly and shook his head as he looked to his left.

Like always, Hermione had chosen something that looked quite adventurous; a flat piece of bread, cut into triangles, coated in a tomato paste and golden, melted cheese. Little pieces of bacon, chicken, and peppers dotted the surface – he blinked at the look of joy and bliss on Hermione's face as she took a bite.

"What's that?" He asked with a wince – hoping his voice wasn't as high-pitched as he thought it had sounded.

Hermione placed her fingers against her lips as she finished chewing, and swallowed quickly. "Pizza – do you want to try some?"

The conversation with his mother flashed in his mind – for a moment, he was back there, in her arms as she ran her fingers through his hair. He could remember her voice, and everything she'd said. He blinked, and the Great Hall rushed back into focus. "Pizza?"

"Yeah, have you never heard of it?" Hermione blinked, surprised.

"Once, but I've never tried it."

"Oh, you have to try some!" She gushed, nudging her plate toward him – he squirmed in his seat and chewed on the inside of his lip. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked, noticing his discomfort – he smiled, despite himself.

"I'm not supposed to eat food prepared by Hogwarts anymore." He admitted, quietly. "Dobby's the one that looks after everything to do with me now. It's the price of having a personal House Elf."

He winced as her face fell.

"Oh – that makes sense, I guess." She muttered, turning back to her plate – he nudged her shoulder gently; she looked at him.

"Tell me your favourite pizza, and I'll let Dobby know tomorrow – you got it from that plate there, right?" He asked, pointing to a large plate just beyond his own reach. She nodded, smiling. "Well, I couldn't eat all of that myself, could I? I'll need help."

"Well," She said slowly, taking a small bite out of her slice and smiling at him lopsidedly. "I'm always happy to help you."

Harry grinned, and shifted a little closer to the girl next to him as she began to list all the different types of pizza, those she liked, and those she didn't. Perhaps, if the year were full of moments like these, the Dementors wouldn't be such a problem after all.


The journey to the Gryffindor Common Room had been pleasantly subdued – his stomach was full, and his eyes had grown heavy as it settled into his gut; he was sure that, after the excitement of the day, if it hadn't been for the need to trudge up all the stairs, he could have quite easily fallen asleep at the table.

Astoria, it seemed, had an endless supply of energy – latching onto his arm quickly and almost dragging him up the stairs behind her as they trailed in the wake of the Prefects, and their own Head Boy, Percy Weasley.

He'd had little to do with the most serious and studious of the Weasley brothers – Harry personally found him rather aloof, and noticed he kept himself apart from most of the House. Perhaps he just hadn't seen it, but personally, he had no idea how Percy had been made Head Boy; a small part of him pitied the Head Girl and the Prefects.

But, he would admit, it was entirely possible he'd simply gotten the wrong idea about the boy in the last two years. He'd be the first to admit that he didn't know the boy beyond his name.

Behind him, Hermione yawned loudly as they trudged up the last staircase; he glanced over his shoulder and grinned at her – quite maturely, she stuck her tongue out at him, which set Neville off in a quiet chorus of chuckles.

"We're almost there, Harry!" Astoria groaned, tugging on his arm again. He rolled his eyes and hurried up the last two steps – a small crowd had gathered before the portrait of the Fat Lady, hissing the password exasperatedly.

It was hard to see or hear what was being said, behind the crowd of bodies, though he did catch Seamus's voice amongst it all. After a moment, the portrait swung open, and Harry couldn't help but laugh as Astoria hurried through, vibrating with excited energy as she spun on the spot, taking the whole room in.

"This is amazing!" She gushed as he stepped up to her, placing his hands on her shoulders to keep her in place. "It's so big!"

"It feels a lot smaller when everyone's in here." Neville muttered, appearing at his side and pointing to their little alcove in the far corner. "See that table over there? That's ours – you can always come and sit with us."

Astoria nodded rapidly, her hair bobbing up and down, and her excited grin was infectious. Off to the side, the Prefects were explaining the Dorm rules to the new students; he gently guided Astoria to her year-mates before flopping into a nearby chair, Hermione and Neville slumping into a couch across from him.

The room was loud, though many of the older students were disappearing up into their rooms – he caught sight of Ron, Seamus, and Dean laughing on their way up the stairs. Lavender, Parvati, and Lauren hurried up the opposite flight – though he thought it more accurate to say that Calvert stomped up the steps.

"It's good to be back." Hermione hummed, hugging a crimson cushion with golden tassels around the edge to her chest. "I didn't realise how much I'd missed it."

"Long Valley Keep's too empty for my liking." Neville agreed, kicking his feet out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. "It's too quiet."

"It's a castle – if it were noisy, there'd be something wrong, don't you think?" Harry pointed out with a raised eyebrow. Neville rolled his eyes and tossed his own pillow, which Harry snatched out the air, laughing.

"Stop being an arse – you know what I mean."

"I'm surrounded by children." Hermione sighed, dejectedly.

"You're the same age as us." Neville pointed out, and Harry looked at her, bemused.

She sniffed and held her nose a little higher. "I'll have you know I'm the oldest – I'll be fourteen in a few weeks."

"At least I'm not the youngest anymore." He scoffed, turning to glance at Astoria, who was slowly making her way over to them – many of the first years scurried up the stairs to their rooms. "You look nervous." He said when she was close enough.

Astoria wrung her hands, her fingers wrapping around themselves as she shifted from foot to foot. "Do you think Daphne will be upset? She didn't look too happy."

"I think she's just annoyed at Harry." Hermione grinned, patting the cushion between herself and Neville – Astoria flopped into it heavily, her feet kicking absently. "I bet she thinks Harry corrupted her little sister."

"That's not true – I've always been brave!"

"Don't forget all those monsters you told me you beat." Harry nodded. "All by yourself."

"Here – want to know a secret?" Neville asked, nudging Astoria with his elbow. Astoria nodded quickly; her eyes wide. "I bet if she wasn't in Slytherin, Daphne would've been put in Gryffindor too."

Hermione snorted, and quickly put a hand over her mouth while her face turned red.

"See? Hermione thinks so too!" Harry laughed, getting to his feet – he ignored the glare from her and instead focused his eyes on Astoria. "Alright, I'm going to head up – make sure Clara and Hedwig haven't destroyed my room."

"I'll make sure Astoria finds her room, and she knows where mine is, just in case." Hermione smiled, wrapping an arm around the younger girl's shoulders. Neville got to his feet with a quick stretch, and the four of them made their way to the stairs. "Goodnight you two – and don't stay up late like you did last year!"

"I promise nothing!" Neville called over his shoulder, already trudging up the stone steps. Harry rolled his eyes, but offered Hermione a smile, nonetheless. Just as he turned to Astoria, he felt her collide with his chest, and he chuckled as the two of them stumbled back a step.

"I'm so glad to be in Gryffindor with you, Harry." She muttered into his shoulder. He patted her back and gave her a gentle squeeze before she let go.

"Me too – now, best not to keep Hermione waiting." He said, winking cheekily at Hermione, who just rolled her eyes, even as her cheeks coloured again. "There's a reason she's the smartest."

"It's good that you finally admitted it." Hermione smirked, folding her arms across her chest. "Personal growth, after all."

He scoffed but waved at the two of them as he began to make his way up the stairs, offering a heartfelt goodnight as he went. He found the door to the shared common room easily, and stepped through, only to pause as he passed the threshold, his hand still on the doorknob.

Sitting with each of their Familiars, Dean, Seamus, and Ron, all sat around the small table in front of the fireplace. Across the room, Neville emerged with Trevor in his hand, and all the eyes in the room turned to him.

"Should I be worried?" He asked, watching them all warily.

Dean snorted and shook his head. "Nah – just thought we'd hang out in here for a bit. Want to join us?"

"Sure – want me to get Clara?"

"Definitely!" Seamus grinned, his hand running along the feathers of his Barn Owl, Ave.

He hurried across the room and threw open the door to his bedroom – everything was perfectly laid out; his armour sitting on the stand proudly, and his sword hanging on the wall, the pommel glinting in the low light.

He swept his eyes across the rest of the room – the tapestry hung proudly on the wall, and the portrait of Arpton sat next to it, the banners on the walls of the castle flapping proudly in the magical breeze. To his left, he saw the two perches – Hedwig's was empty; no doubt having ventured out to hunt something, but Clara sat there, staring at him.

He shrugged his coat off and tossed it on the foot of the bed and held his arm out to the Phoenix – she took the invitation gladly, hopping onto his shoulder with a low trill of pleasure. Once she was settled, he eased his way out of the room, closed the door behind him, and shifted Clara to the arm of an empty, wing-backed chair. He settled into it after, and wasn't at all surprised when she hopped into his lap.

"I still can't believe it, you know." Ron muttered, staring at the Phoenix. "A bloody Phoenix!"

Clara stood a little taller and puffed out her chest at the Weasley boy, and Harry traced his fingertips lightly down the back of her neck. "She's a handful." He scoffed and rolled his eyes when she looked at him balefully. "But I wouldn't have her any other way."

"So, what did you two get up to over the summer?" Dean asked, ducking his head as his cat, Bishop, decided to jump on his shoulders. "Do anything fun?"

"Stayed around the Keep for the most part – went to Harry's for his birthday, but that's about it, unless you count the Wizengamot." Neville shrugged, absently stroking the back of Trevor's head.

"Nah, I've heard that's right dull!" Seamus moaned, leaning back into his chair. "Me Ma' always listens to it each month. Can't imagine why."

"It's not exactly exciting." Harry grinned, glancing at Neville to his left. "Neville nearly fell asleep in the first session we went to."

"Ye didn't!" Seamus laughed, shifting in his seat. "That's brilliant, mate."

"What about you lot? Get up to much?" Harry asked, ignoring Neville's glare.

"Not really." Dean shrugged. "Mum took me and my sister to Alton Towers, but that was about it."

Seamus stifled a yawn behind the back of his hand. "We went on 'oliday in the caravan – somewhere just south of Derry. Met a nice lass while I was there." He said, rather proudly, puffing out his chest.

"Get up to anything there?"

"Nah, just bike rides and stuff – went to the beach a bit too."

Harry glanced at Ron, who was resting his arms on his knees, holding Scabbers between his hands – a cold shiver ran down his spine at the sight of the rat with the tufty ears; there was something about the way Scabbers always looked at him that made him uncomfortable. It was a stupid feeling, because he was just a rat, but still…

"We went to Egypt, to visit my brother Bill – he's the oldest, and he's a Curse Breaker for Gringotts! Uncle Thomas arranged for us all to go, and it was great! We saw the pyramids, Bill showed us a tomb he'd cleared, and the food was great!"

"Of course he'd be most excited about the food." Dean snorted. "Did you even stop to breathe during the feast?"

"I'm a growing boy!" Ron defended himself, grinning as they all laughed. Ron's appetite was infamous, and he'd seen for himself just how much food the boy could put away.

"'Ere, what about all the new professors, ey?" Seamus grinned, sitting up. "Did ye see the one next to Professor Saller? The one with the dark hair?"

"Oh, yeah! I hope we get her for Alchemy. I bet she's really good!" Dean snickered, wagging his eyebrows. Harry chuckled and scratched Clara under her chin; her wings twitched, and her eyes closed.

"Forget her, did you see the bloke with the white hair? He was huge!" Neville cried.

"The one Remus led in?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side – he didn't think there were any others with white hair, but then, there had been so many. "Hair tied back in a knot?"

"Yeah, that's the one – do you think he'll be teaching Defence too?"

"Who's Remus?" Dean blinked, looking between the two of them.

Harry blushed and cleared his throat, while Neville snickered behind his hand. "Oh, sorry – I guess you'll know him as Professor Lupin; he's the Steward of House Black, but he was one of my dad's friends. He's basically my uncle."

"My Dad knows him, I think." Ron said, nodding slowly. "I've never seen him before, but Dad's mentioned him once or twice."

"He taught us before we came to Hogwarts." Neville said, waving a finger between the two of them. "We're hoping he teaches us, which, I reckon, is going to be a given."

"Why do ye say that?" Seamus asked, confused.

"He's here to watch over Harry." Neville grinned, and Harry resisted the urge to sink into the chair. "To make sure he doesn't almost get himself killed again, I guess."

"It's true then – you almost died fighting the Basilisk?" Dean gasped, his mouth hanging open.

Harry nodded, his hand drifting over the part of his arm the fang had punched through. "The tip of one of the fangs went through my arm. If it hadn't been for Clara, I'd have died."

"Clara?" Seamus frowned, and Harry noticed Ron paled.

"Phoenix tears can heal you, but it tires them out. The more they heal, the weaker they get – Clara almost forced herself into a Burning Day healing me." Harry smiled sadly, running his fingers down Clara's neck. "She's fine now though."

"Thanks, by the way – y'know, for everything." Ron muttered, awkwardly. Harry just nodded and pressed his lips together tightly.

"Speaking of life and death situations," Dean began, raising an eyebrow at Harry. "Is it true you face off against a Dementor on the train?"

"You've heard about that already?" He gasped, blinking. He looked at Neville, who just shrugged sympathetically.

Seamus grinned. "Aye – saved Abbott and Zabini, right?"

"I wouldn't say that." Harry grimaced. "I shot three spells at it, and it didn't even flinch. Next thing I know, I'm on my back because of the ice, and there's a white wolf chasing it off."

"It was still brave." Dean nodded, and Harry found himself smiling.

"Thanks."

"Dumbledore said they were trying to capture someone, right? Must be pretty bad if they've set them after 'em." Seamus muttered, visibly shivering. Harry didn't blame him.

Ron shifted in his chair and cleared his throat awkwardly. "I heard there was a botched operation at the Ministry the other night – everyone's been all in a tizz ever since. Overheard Dad talking to Mum about it."

"What did you hear?" Dean asked, inching to the edge of his seat, still balancing his cat on his shoulders as he rubbed it behind the ears.

"I heard a name," Ron swallowed nervously. "Fenrir Greyback."

Neville choked, and Harry's hand stilled as his eyes went wide. "You're saying they're after Greyback?" He whispered.

"Who's that?" Dean asked, confused. "Someone dangerous, I guess?"

"He's the Ministry's most wanted – they haven't been able to catch him for decades. There was a big thing about him when we were… seven, right?" Harry frowned, glancing at Neville.

"Eight – Gran wouldn't let me in the same room as the Prophet for the next month after that."

Harry shook his head and rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead. "Did you hear anything else?" He asked, looking at Ron.

"Nah – just that there was a threat against someone."

"Gods, what poor bastard pissed Greyback off?" Neville muttered, the crackling of the fire the only answer to his question.