A/N–I didn't write out the discovery that the Fat Lady had been destroyed, the DADA class with Professor Snape substituting, or the Quidditch game because I would basically have been copy and pasting from the book, and none of you came here for that. Some of the dialogue in the beginning is directly from the book, but that's about it.

"blah blah"- Speaking Greek

"blah blah"- Speaking Amestrian

'blah blah'- Thinking

***** - Begin/end flashback

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Fullmetal Alchemist, or Percy Jackson. Good thing too, or they wouldn't be nearly as good as they are now. They belong to J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, and Rick Riordan. Just to be safe, I also don't own the song 'This is War' by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

Harry

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore informed the students. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge." He turned to Percy (Weasley), who was looking very proud of himself. "Any disturbances should be reported to me immediately. Send word with one of the ghosts." Dumbledore turned to exit, but paused. "Oh yes, you'll be needing…" With a few flicks of his wand, the long tables were moved against the walls and replaced with hundreds of comfortable-looking sleeping bags. "Sleep well," Professor Dumbledore said as he left the Great Hall.

"C'mon," Ron said. They each grabbed a sleeping bag and dragged it over to a corner as Percy (Weasley) shouted about lights out.

"Do you think Black is still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"Dumbledore must think so or they wouldn't be searching," Ron pointed out.

All through the Great Hall, people were asking the same question: "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he Apparated in?" Ron suggested.

"You can't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts grounds."

Hermione looked at Thalia in surprise. "So I'm not the only one who's read Hogwarts: A History."

"The lights are going out now!" Percy (Weasley) called. "Everyone in their sleeping bags, and no more talking!"

~o~O~o~

For the next few days, Sirius Black was all that anyone talked about. Theories for how he had entered the castle were circulating, each more ridiculous than the last. What really bothered Harry was that the teachers had taken to tailing him everywhere, and 'conveniently' bumping into him in hallways. It was starting to drive him crazy.

He wasn't even free at Quidditch practice; Professor McGonagall had assigned Madame Hooch to oversee each practice. Harry didn't let that put a damper on his enthusiasm. Gryffindor's first match against Slytherin was approaching, and Harry was looking forward to giving Malfoy a serious beating. Well, he was before the change in schedule, that is.

"What do you mean we aren't playing against Slytherin?!" Ron cried, outraged.

Harry fell into a chair by the fire. "They're using Malfoy's arm as an excuse not to play, but they really just don't want to risk playing in this weather."

"His arm?!" Ron said angrily. "There's nothing wrong with his bloody arm!"

"Yeah, but we can't prove it," Harry said wearily.

"All the same, I can't wait to see a Quidditch match," Percy said. "You've been going on about them for so long that they must be pretty exciting."

"I still can't believe that you've never seen a Quidditch match," Ron said, shaking his head.

Thalia shrugged. "I'm sure we weren't missing out too badly."

"You'll see," Ron said confidently. "Speaking of missing out, what has Dean been up to lately? Is he still convinced that he can make you fall in love?"

Thalia groaned. "You have no idea how annoying he is! Yesterday he told me that he was 'convinced that he could rediscover the dormant stirrings of love that must be lost somewhere in my heart's labyrinth'." Thalia glared at them all as they tried to hold back their laughter. "Thanks a lot, Nico."

Nico grinned, unabashed. "You have to give him credit for trying."

"If he tries any harder he's going to regret it."

~o~O~o~

Harry's eyes snapped opening. After a few disoriented moments, he realized he was in the hospital wing. The mud-splattered Gryffindor Quidditch team plus Ron, Hermione, Percy, Nico, and Thalia were crowded around his bed.

Fred (or George, it was even harder to tell them apart with all the mud), was the first to speak. "Harry! How're you feeling?"

All of Harry's memories came rushing back. The storm, the Grim, the Snitch–and then the dementors. Harry jerked up so quickly his head spun.

"What happened?"

"You fell at least fifty feet," Nico informed him.

"We thought you'd died," Alicia said shakily.

Hermione made a squeaking noise, seemingly not recovered yet.

Madame Pomfrey only allowed the team to stay long enough to tell him about their defeat, and then she ushered them out the door with a disapproving look. Ron, Hermione, Percy, Nico, and Thalia stayed.

"Hey, at least you aren't alone!" Percy said.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Thalia stepped aside and gestured towards the bed next to Harry's. "Professor Elric fainted again too. Everybody was so focused on you falling off your broom that not many people noticed. Professor Lupin was sitting next to him and got him up here."

"Is he asleep?" Harry asked, feeling bad for not being quieter.

"No," Ron said. "He hasn't woken up yet."

"You mean he's still unconscious from the dementors? Is he okay?"

Hermione had regained her voice and answered his question. "A really bad reaction to a dementor can leave a person unconscious for quite a while. He'll probably wake up soon."

"Did anyone get my Nimbus?" Harry asked, realizing that his broomstick was nowhere to be seen.

His friends fell silent.

"What?" Harry asked, dreading the answer for the second time that night.

"Well…when you fell off, it got blown away," Hermione hesitantly explained. "And it–it hit the Whomping Willow."

"And, well," Ron picked up. "You know the Whomping Willow doesn't like being hit."

Percy slowly picked up a bag that had been at his feet and revealed the shattered remains of Harry's faithful broomstick.

"…oh." Was all that Harry could say.

"Alright, that's enough visiting." Madame Pomfrey began shooing them out the door. "He needs his rest, you can come back tomorrow."

They reluctantly headed out the door, promising to visit first thing in the morning. Harry sat in the hospital bed, now alone except for the unconscious Professor Elric in the next bed over. He was thinking about going to sleep for lack of anything better to do when the aforementioned professor let out a small groan and opened his eyes.

"Wha…" He sat up, holding his head.

Madame Pomfrey was at his bed in an instant, armed with chocolate. "Eat this." She shoved the chocolate into his mouth before he had time to protest. "Honestly, those dementors are going to be the death of you! You were out for even longer than last time!"

Professor Elric scowled. "–––––– dementors and their nightmare-inducing ––––––– and ––––––– wizards with their –––––– magic. Can I go now?"

Harry blinked. Had the translation spell stopped working for a few words? He recalled it doing something similar in the library; not translating a certain word. That was weird.

"No, you most certainly may not!" Madame Pomfrey pushed Professor Elric back onto the bed he had been trying to get out of. "You are going to stay here tonight, and you can leave tomorrow if you rest like you're supposed to."

"What! But–"

"No."

"But I need to–"

"No buts." Madame Pomfrey marched into her office, leaving no room for argument.

Professor Elric turned, noticing Harry for the first time.

"So you got stuck in here too?"

Harry nodded. "Fell fifty feet from my broom."

"Fifty feet, huh? Impressive. Add that to my list of reasons to never get on a freakin broom for transportation."

"You have a list?" Harry asked, shocked. "But flying is amazing! Why wouldn't you want to try it?"

"Well, besides the fact that it breaks plenty of laws of aerodynamics, it's also a broom for crying out loud. Why would any sane person trust a stick with straw tied to the end to keep them from falling?!" Professor Elric was on a roll now and showed no signs of stopping. "Not to mention it doesn't look all that comfortable to sit on for long periods of time. And don't get me started on your weird sport that you do on it. What is even the point of that?!"

"If you don't like Quidditch then why were you at the match in the first place?" Harry asked, cutting him off before he could continue his rant.

Professor Elric huffed. "I didn't want to be. I could be in the library getting research done right now, but no. Professor Lupin insisted that I come to 'at least one match' and dragged me along. See if I ever let him talk me into anything ever again."

"Oh." For the second time that night, Harry wasn't sure what to say. "Uh…Sorry about that."

There were a few moments of silence as both boys sat contemplating their predicaments. After a while, Harry realized that Professor Elric had fallen asleep. With nothing else to occupy him, Harry was left to gaze up at the ceiling, recalling the memories brought to the surface by the dementors.

He knew now that the screams he heard were of his dying parents. Knowing did nothing to help; in fact, it did the opposite. Everyone shuddered at the mention of the dementors, and everyone agreed that they were horrible. But no one else fainted by going near them.

Harry glanced at the bed next to him. No one except Professor Elric, at least. Knowing that he wasn't the only one affected so strongly made Harry feel a little better. And it seemed that Professor Elric was affected even worse than him. It made Harry wonder what sort of horrible things had happened to him that made him react so badly.

But then again, if Harry had fainted because of something he could barely even remember, he didn't think he wanted to know what terrifying memories Professor Elric had. Harry stared at the moonlight that drifted through the window, his thoughts muddled together until he finally drifted into sleep.

~o~O~o~

Harry was awoken early the next morning by quiet chattering to his right. Looking over, he saw Professor Elric sitting up in his bed, speaking in low tones to a young girl that Harry didn't recognize. She had long black hair that hung down her back in two ponytails, and looked young enough to be a first year.

Harry saw that the two had spread parchments and books all over the bed, and Professor Elric seemed to be explaining something. Harry listened closer, trying to hear what they were talking about.

'Oh, he's helping her with alchemy homework. Huh. I thought he was done with that after he blew up in the library.'

Professor Elric didn't look annoyed; he was gesturing towards the paper with the traces of a smile on his face. From what Harry could see of the girl's face, she seemed to be enjoying herself. Suddenly the door swung open, startling the teacher and student. Thalia, Hermione, and Ron stopped short as they entered.

"Oh, sorry about that," Hermione said. "We didn't mean to interrupt you, Professor."

"That's alright, I understand it now." The girl stood up, gathering her supplies. "Thanks again, sir!"

"No problem," he replied, smiling.

"You're a first-year, aren't you?" Harry asked, curious. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

She turned, noticing that he was awake. "That's right." She held out her hand. "Susan White, first-year Slytherin. Pleased to meet you."

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Thalia hurried to introduce themselves. Susan thanked Professor Elric again before hurrying out the door.

"Where're Percy and Nico?" Harry asked as she left.

"They're doing homework," Thalia explained. "They'll be up to visit later."

"Speaking of homework," Hermione began. And, to Harry dismay, she hefted the school bag she had been carrying. "You have plenty."

Harry groaned. "C'mon Ron why'd you let her bring that?"

"Sorry mate." Ron shook his head apologetically. "She was very insistent."

"And for good reason!" Hermione said. "You have a potions essay you need to have finished by Monday, and you've been putting it off all week. Now you have plenty of time to do it."

It was clear that Hermione wasn't going to let him slack off during his stay in the hospital wing. She pushed him to do his homework for an hour, until Madame Pomfrey allowed Professor Elric to leave, with much rejoicing from the latter. When he was gone, Hermione leaned closer.

"I was thinking about the prophecy some more last night. You remember how at the end it says 'you will fight to the death'?"

When Harry nodded, she continued. "In a one-on-one duel, a fight to the death is different from a normal duel. If a duel is to the death, then that means the two people will keep fighting until one of them is dead, no negotiations whatsoever; just like the name says. So I think that when the prophecy says 'you will fight to the death', it doesn't just mean that people are going to die in the fight."

Hermione took a deep breath before continuing. "I think that it means that the war will go on until either an entire side is gone, or one of the leaders dies. No negotiations; the fight will only end when either the good or the evil is the only one left." Hermione twisted her fingers together, trying to hide their shaking. "And I don't need to explain why that would be bad."

Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Ron and Thalia looked grim, Thalia especially. Harry got the feeling that she felt the gravity of the situation more than any of them.

"So what do we do?" Ron asked. "Should we tell Professor Dumbledore?"

"No." Thalia said. "This is a demigod affair. We told you three because we trust you not to tell anyone else, and because we knew you could help us. But we can't let it spread any further."

"But if other people can help then–"

"No," Thalia repeated firmly. "Trust me. Bad things happen when too many mortals get tangled up in the affairs of the gods."

'Well that sounded ominous,' Harry thought. 'Us mortals should keep our noses out, huh?'

"Please, keep your promise and don't tell anyone." Thalia's voice was softer. "We don't want to put anyone else in danger."

Thalia waited until the three of them had nodded. "Thank you," she said, the seriousness leaving her face. "And Harry," she said, turning to him, "You shouldn't be ashamed that the dementors affect you like this. You've had terrible things happen in your past that most people here have never experienced. And that's nothing to be ashamed of."

Harry nodded, though his spirits were only slightly lifted. Then the conversation turned to happier matters, as the friends tried to forget all about dementors, prophecies, and the feeling of dread that had encompassed them all not five minutes before. 'After all,' Harry thought, 'It's not like we're in any real danger right now.'

o

O

o

Sadness. Real, heart-wrenching, wretched sadness. What a feeling.

As your eyes fill with tears, you never know if it will be the last time. As you bow your head and allow sobs to escape from your throat, you never know if it will be the last time. So as you huddle within the feelings of loneliness and despair; cherish them. For you never know if it will be the last time.