Start 1.2

What a rotten day, a rotten year. At least what little of it I'd actually spent at Hogwarts rather than exploring Earth and the world beyond the rift. Not that previous years at Hogwarts had been all rainbows and sunshine. Having Voldemort as a DADA teacher and then a giant snake on the prowl had been bad, but at least I hadn't been forced to maim a teacher. Honestly, what had Dumbledore been THINKING. Hiring a werewolf was one thing, but hiring one without the common sense to take his wolfsbane potion on the night of a full moon? Honestly, he could have turned a dozen children into werewolves before he was stopped if the change had taken him in the castle – or killed them, for that matter.

God, he was wailing now. A dark creature, certainly, but still vaguely dog-like. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him as he bewailed his lost leg – or arm, I supposed, once he transformed back. It really was his own fault though. Ron hadn't been able to run thanks to twisted ankle and Harry was as always completely unwilling to flee from danger, so it had fallen to me to protect them. Unfortunately, stunning curses had melted off Lupin's werewolf form like they were nothing, and I lacked Harry's raw magical power to be able to force out a strong enough stunner to break through his resistance. Thus I was left with plan C, a curse that I had learned only recently in my time turner-aided extracurricular studies. The cutting curse had performed even better than I'd hoped, slicing through the werewolf's leg like butter. Was it wrong that I was feeling relieved that there was no way I'd be convicted for it? Given the Ministry's current stance on werewolves they probably wouldn't even give me a slap on the wrist for maiming him under the circumstances.

Honestly, what a mess this all was. First poor Buckbeak was executed, causing Harry to run off to the woods to grieve. Obviously with a horde of dementors roaming around as well as Sirius Black hunting the boy, leaving him alone in the Dark Forest was out of the question. Rushing after him had gone poorly from the start. A spider (and honestly not a scary spider, it was really almost cute) dropping in front of Ron's face was all it took to send him into a backwards somersault that ended with a twisted ankle.

It hadn't gotten better from there. A vicious black dog had come out of nowhere and transformed into the murderous Sirius Black. Whatever else the man was, he was a master duelist. In barely an instant he'd snatched Ron's wand and used it to disarm Harry and myself. From there he'd proved that the newspaper's appellation of "The Mad" was well deserved. Inexplicably he'd started rambling about the past while torturing Ron's poor rat Scabbers.

Lupin arrived not much later. Apparently he and Black were in cahoots, old friends from school and the war, it seemed. I hadn't thought Lupin had it in him. He'd seemed so nice at first but apparently he wasn't such a good werewolf after all. I wanted to believe that somehow all of this was a misunderstanding, that Harry's godfather Sirius black and Professor Lupin had some excuse for their actions and that Lupin's failure to take wolfsbane was an innocent mistake... but this wasn't a fairy tale. Immediately they'd started talking sinisterly of how they'd kill him (Harry) and take revenge for the years spent in Askaban. Strangely they'd decided Harry needed to know why they were killing him first. The delay as they debated explaining first or killing him immediately lasted just long enough for Lupin to be caught in a ray of moonlight. During the transformation Black had foolishly tried to restrain Lupin but was struck unconscious when Lupin shed the last of his humanity.

Well, at least it was all over now. I'd recovered my wand during Lupin's transformation and been the one to save the day for once, rather than Harry. It felt good, provided I didn't think about the severed limb. 'What now, what now.' So long as Lupin didn't go after us with only three legs, all we had to do was send up some sparks and wait for the proper authorities to arrive. Just for good measure I sent my strongest stunner at the still unconscious Black before retraining my sights at Lupin, wand at the ready.

"Ron," I said, "grab your wand and send up some sparks." I would have asked Harry, but I didn't want to talk him down from killing Sirius. Little Harry had shown some disturbing homicidal impulses this year.

It took a few fumbles as Ron struggled to regain his calm but ultimately it was a simple spell and he soon shot off a 100 foot high tower of sparks. With any luck at all, someone from the castle or one of the aurors "managing" the dementors had noticed it and would arrive quickly. "What do we do now?" he asked.

I was tempted to let Harry or Ron handle it from here. Boys could get a bit sullen if they didn't get to play Captain every once in awhile, and from here on out things should be fairly simple. On the other hand Ron was only holding it together out of some impulse to impress me if I was reading him right, and Harry was looking rather peaky. 'And that's why.' Frost creeping down the trees, darkness creeping through an already dark sky, an oily aura of fear and despair pressing down more heavily with every second... dementors. A whole bloody horde of them coming to investigate my apparently very stupid sparks idea.

"Scheisse." Ah, my German was showing. Well, it wasn't like the boys would ever figure out that I'd used the time turner to spend three weeks in Germany last Thursday. "We need to run. Now."

"What?" "Why?" they asked.

"Dementors. Now come on!" Harry and I held Ron between us to steady his ankle as we stumbled through the growing darkness. I slowed as my knees went weak and frost trimmed patterns along the hem of my robes. We came to a stop as I looked behind us, struck dead still by what I saw. I'd saved Sirius Black from Harry's vengeance, but it seemed I'd sentenced him to a far worse fate in doing so. With ominous finality a dementor closed its terrible maw over the glowing orb that was Black's soul.

Lupin succumbed not long after, a dozen dementors sapping away his strength before taking his soul as well. Werewolves weren't typically susceptible for dementors, but these were hardly typical circumstances. My attack had weakened him too much to run away, and separated so long from the prisoners of Askaban that served as their food source the dementors had grown ravenous beyond measure. Whatever docility had been bred into them in Askaban had disappeared entirely.

'They see us.' It was difficult to rustle up anything more than despair over that fact. I'd moved beyond fear into a terrible stillness. As the dark-cloaked figures swarmed towards us the color leached out of world and mind. Not just light but seemingly the very memory of light was extinguished as they approached, until it felt as if darkness and despair was all there had ever been.

Something in me rebelled. A twisting in my gut that refused to lie down and let my soul be taken. Even faced with these suffocating reapers there was part of me that responded to the darkness not with despair, but with hunger. Yes, I could feel it now. There was still light to be found if I peered closer. Gleaming orbs of light and blue fire just waiting for me to reach out and –

"Expecto PATRONUM!"

I recoiled as a gleaming stag galloped forth from Harry's wand. Waves of light birthed from pure joy exploded forth from the stag, glorious and painful at the same time. My skin was burned red by the time the waves ceased, but I felt alive again and the dementors had retreated, at least for the moment. All in all a little sunburn was a more than fair price. It was a bit strange that neither Harry nor Ron were burnt though. Perhaps they'd had the common sense to turn away.

"We're alive," said Ron after a moment.

I found my own tongue then as well. "Well done, Harry! But how did you do it? I tried that spell myself and couldn't even get a glimmer."

He scratched his head. "I just thought of my happiest memory. Seeing the man who betrayed my parents die."

'Oh. Well that's a little dark. Definitely got the job done though.'

Ron tugged at our arms. "Don't you think we should get back to the castle? You know, before they come back?"

There was no need for words after that. We ran.