Chapter Seventeen: Transcendence

""Four things come not back: the spoken word, the sped arrow, time passed, and the neglected opportunity."

–Omar Idn Al-Halif

"Master, are you sure we should use the boy?"

"Do you doubt my judgment, Bellatrix?" hissed the cold, high voice.

"Of course not, Master, but wouldn't it be easier-"

"This way has its advantages, Lestrange, as well as the delicious irony."

"Of course, forgive me, master. And what of the other?"

"We will deal with him later."

It was burning. Again. The lightning scar- the thing that marked Harry for the world to identify- was red, swollen, and stinging like hell when he awoke, and danger was building. It always seemed that way, ever since he'd come to Hogwarts- but there really was no turning back now. Returning to Riddle Manor would be hardly wise, all things considered. Hogwarts was safest, and provided new means of protection to be learned. And the Burrow was safe enough, for now. Once he got back to Hogwarts, the basilisk blood would provide protection as well. Pettigrew had withstood the testing. No long-term side effects, no withdrawal, and the added resistance to poisons seemed to be permanent. And, once we arrive, the rat will face the final test…thought Harry with some satisfaction. Basilisk venom. Harry was unsure whether it would kill the rat, or simply render him back to normal vulnerability. If the later, Fred and George could always use a test subject…

He'd have to learn as many defenses as possible once he returned. Danger, always danger… not that he hadn't grown a bit used to it…

"HARRY! It's time to wake up, Harry dear, the train leaves at eleven and-" a voice called, interrupting his train of thought.

"I'm up, Mrs. Weasley!"

He dressed hurriedly in muggle clothes the Weasley's had lent him (his own were too small now, as well as being in tatters) and hurried downstairs for a hasty but thorough breakfast with the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley was fussing over everyone even more than usual. There were tearstains on her cheeks, and both she and her husband had dark circles under their eyes. The rest of the table's occupants were unusually quiet and uneasy. Even Fred and George said very little except for 'good morning's and frequent offers to help out which seemed to only depress their mother more. It was much to Harry's relief when they all finally left the house and piled into the car.

They arrived to find the platform bustling with the usual crowd. Percy split off to join the prefects, leaving Harry, Ron, Fred, and George to look for Tracey, Nott, Neville, and Hermione. When they had finally managed that, the eight of them headed on to the train to look for a compartment.

"This one's empty!" pointed out Neville. "Well, almost…"

"He's hardly going to mind, he's asleep." Tracey sneered, opening the door of the compartment and walking inside.

"Tracey…" groaned Hermione, probably more at the girl's tone than anything; she didn't argue the point and followed Tracey into the compartment along with everyone else.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut.

"Professor R. J. Lupin," whispered Hermione at once.

"How d'you know that?"

"It's on his case," she replied, pointing to the luggage rack. Fred, George, and Tracey sniggered unsubtly. Ron tried to ignore them.

"Wonder what he teaches?" said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.

"That's obvious," whispered Hermione. Lupin. Remus Lupin. That's Moony, then…Padfoot was shifting uncomfortably at Harry's side, but he could see no way of leaving now without gathering suspicion. Only Ron knew who the dog was at the moment, and he had no interest in explaining this to the others. Anyway, the man was asleep, and with it being so close to the full moon, he was likely to sleep the whole way. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Well, I hope he's up to it," said Ron doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he?"

"Want to test it?" asked Tracey, a smirk playing across her lips.

Hermione glared fiercely at her.

"There will be no hexing in this compartment!"

"Cool it, Granger, it was all in jest. Why the concern, anyhow? I'm sure he's up to the job. Just as much as the last two were…"

Theodore snorted. "As if that's saying anything."

Hermione looked about to comment, but then the compartment door slid open, and the others went to investigate the food cart.

"D'you think we should wake him up?" Ron asked awkwardly, nodding toward Professor Lupin. "He looks like he could do with some food."

Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.

"Er- Professor?" she said. "Excuse me- Professor?"

He didn't move.

"Don't worry, dear," said the witch with the trolley, "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver." "I suppose he is sleep?" said Ron quietly as the witch slid the compartment door closed. "I mean- he hasn't died, has he?"

"No, no, he's breathing, whispered Hermione.

"Cut it out with the whispering, he's obviously not about to wake up," commented Tracey, rolling her eyes.

For the next few hours, the train ride remained uneventful. Then it stopped.

"What the hell?" exclaimed Tracey.

"What's going on?" said Ron's voice from behind Harry.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione, "Ron, that was my foot!"

"We didn't do it, really." George commented.

"Unfortunately." Fred added.

"D'you think we've broken down?" asked Neville nervously.

"Dunno…"

Only moments later, the compartment door opened. Standing in the doorway was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Harry did the first thing that came to mind, and sensed, focusing his awareness on his surroundings. Then the figure drew in a slow rattling breath. Cold swept over the compartment, and Harry knew without a doubt what it was. Dementor… He continued to focus on his surroundings as he stood to face it. There was a faint rush in his ears, and it was cold- He had to stay focused, not to let it control his consciousness… as he drew his wand, he concentrated briefly on Hogwarts, and on the people surrounding him. Then he opened his mouth and let the words spill out.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Then there was a winged silver form bursting from his wand. The dementor turned and glided out of the compartment. Finally, the cold began to fade. Harry felt horribly drained.

"How did you learn that?" came a voice from behind him. Harry turned unsteadily to find Professor R. J. Lupin fully awake, watching him.

"I studied it last year, when I learned dementors would be guarding Hogwarts. They obviously still are. Anyhow, I've enough bad memories to find them a cause for concern."

Lupin nodded, watching him intently. "Sit down, Harry. You going to be alright?" Harry nodded. "Here," said Lupin, taking out a bar of chocolate and handing out chunks, the first to Harry, "it helps." Then he froze suddenly, staring at Padfoot.

"What is a dog doing here?"

"That would be my guard dog."

"That dog's not a safe-"

"I assure you, Professor, that Padfoot is doing a perfectly good job. I've no need to fill the position of guard-wolf as well." Lupin stared at him. "Let's have this conversation at a different time and place. Keep your mouth shut, and I'll explain everything that's going on. I assure you, I know what I'm doing."

"You're playing a dangerous game, Harry, he's not to be trusted, and there isn't always someone around to help you if-"

"There is, actually." Harry replied. "Silas, come out please." Silas slithered out from under Harry's sleeve. Harry petted the snake absentmindedly, not taking his eyes off of Lupin.

"Immediately after the feast, then."

Harry nodded. "I'll see you then."

"I'll come." Ron spoke up.

"Very well." Harry agreed. Lupin looked surprised, but nodded.

"What about the rest of us?" asked Tracey indignantly.

"Just Ron. He knows what we're talking about."

Tracey scowled. "And why don't the rest of us?"

"You weren't there."

"Urgh. I guess I must have missed out on even more fun last year than I thought."