I do not own Harry Potter. Charlotte Potter and the Ravenclaw Quidditch team members are my OCs.

Near Death By Dementor

Snape, Flitwick and Sprout escorted their students to the Great Hall, where the Gryffindors along with Charlie, Harry and Hermione were already gathered. Professors arrived to supervise the student populace and their expressions were grim as they spoke in low voices with one another.

Dumbledore came by once everyone was accounted for in the Great Hall. "For your safety, you will all be spending the night here. Teachers and prefects will keep guard and alert me at the slightest disturbance. Sleep well, and do not worry."

He gave his wand a flick and the tables flew against the walls. Hundreds of soft purple sleeping bags spread out across the floor. As the students reluctantly got themselves settled Dumbledore left to continue his search for Sirius Black. The Gryffindors began to tell their peers what had occurred and the whispers spread like wildfire.

"I can't believe this," Harry whispered as he and his friends claimed sleeping bags in the far corner.

"It's just my luck," Charlie said flatly as she collapsed into her sleeping bag. "But it just doesn't make sense. If he really wanted to kill me, wouldn't he be absolutely sure of which House I would be in before he attacked?"

"Not unless he was absolutely confident you were in Gryffindor," countered Ron. "That's where everyone thought you'd be Sorted, Charlie."

"I hope they catch him," fretted Hermione. "If Black keeps trying to break into Gryffindor Tower and succeeds, he's going to be furious when he discovers Charlie isn't there."

Ron shivered in terror. "Thanks for that, Hermione."

"How did he even get into the castle?" asked Harry, stress on his features as he ran his fingers through his brunette hair. "How could Black have possibly found a way that Dumbledore didn't think of?"

"I don't know," said Charlie with a troubled expression. "Why did he attack on Halloween? He was a Hogwarts student, right? He should have known everyone in the castle would have been at the Halloween feast."

"Perhaps he lost track of time," Hermione suggested. "He's on the run. Surely he's not able to keep his days in order."

They fell silent, none of them having any solid answers, and Charlie could not shake the feeling that she was missing something. In the grave atmosphere, they were unable to make idle chatter, and so they simply took comfort in each other's presence.

Remus showed up half an hour later, his eyes roaming the Great Hall for his charge. He found Harry tucked away in the corner and he approached him, lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. Harry rolled over in surprise. "Unc—uh, Professor Lupin," he said in relief. "Did you find him?"

"Not yet." When Harry's brow creased in worry, Remus smoothed his thumb over his cheek. "You don't need to be scared, pup. He won't get to you. I promise."

"I know," said Harry with nod. "I'm not scared."

"That doesn't really comfort me," said Remus with a sigh. "We're going to have to have a talk about your tendency to wander the castle at dark."

Harry winced. "Who told you?"

"Professor Dumbledore."

"I wasn't really wandering. I was just going to walk Charlie and Hermione to Ravenclaw Tower. But then we heard the commotion—"

"Which you followed."

"I suppose I'm not helping my case," muttered Harry.

"We'll talk about it later," said Remus softly. He glanced at Charlie, Ron and Hermione, who were burrowed in their sleeping bags. "Try and get some sleep. I'm going to rejoin the search."

Harry gripped Remus' hand; his eyes serious. "Be careful."

"I will." Remus gave his hand a tender squeeze. "If you need me, for anything at all, just ask a teacher. They'll send for me."

"Okay."

"I love you, Harry."

Harry smiled. "I love you too."

Remus departed and Harry glanced over at his friends. "You can stop pretending now."

Charlie rolled over and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I didn't want to interrupt."

Hermione hugged her pillow and said, "He's very sweet."

"Only when I haven't done anything to anger him," quipped Harry.

"He didn't seem angry," pointed out Ron. "That's good."

"Well, his lectures aren't all that fun, either."

"Better than being reamed out, mate."

"Very true."

A few hours passed, but the four weren't able to fall asleep. The Great Hall was filled with soft snores and gentle breathing. Footsteps shuffled down the aisles as the teachers dutifully watched over them. There was a creak as the Great Hall doors opened and Charlie peeked over to see Dumbledore walking in. He approached Percy Weasley and they spoke briefly before Dumbledore turned in their direction. Charlie's gaze darted over to Penelope Clearwater, who stood near them with a pensive expression.

Charlie closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. Dumbledore came over a few minutes later and he said softly, "I hope all is well with you, Miss Clearwater."

"Yes, Professor. The younger students were a bit spooked, but we managed to comfort them enough to get them to sleep. Have you found him?"

"No," said Dumbledore regretfully. "We've searched the entire castle. To be honest, I did not expect Sirius Black to linger. I see no point in moving the children now. You should get some rest, Miss Clearwater. You've done a phenomenal job."

"Thank you, Professor."

Penelope went over to her friends, who had saved her a sleeping bag. Dumbledore stood in place for a moment, his fingers pressed together and his eyes surveying his students.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Professor Snape? Have you found something?"

Charlie was tempted to crack her eyes open just slightly so she could see her two professors, but did not want to give herself away.

"No, Headmaster. Others are still searching, but I doubt that we will find anything. I want to express my concerns that someone on the inside may be helping Black into the castle. Particularly the person you have just assigned the position of—"

"You've expressed these concerns before and my answer is still the same. I trust everyone in this castle, Professor Snape," Dumbledore responded sharply. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to complete one more thorough inspection before morning."

Snape gave a frustrated sigh as Dumbledore walked away. He followed after him and, when Charlie was sure they'd gone, she opened her eyes and rolled over. Her friends, who also pretended to be asleep, adjusted their positions so they could face her.

"What was all that about?" Charlie asked in bewilderment.

"Snape believes that someone on the inside is helping Black into the castle," whispered Ron. "The person Dumbledore recently hired."

"It's not Uncle Remus!" Harry said hotly, furious that anyone would think of such a thing.

"We know!" Hermione said quickly. "We've all seen how Professor Snape looks at your uncle—it's obvious he doesn't like him. Perhaps Professor Snape was just hoping Professor Dumbledore would believe him."

Charlie groaned and buried her head into her sleeping bag. "Why is it we always have a mystery to solve every year?" she asked, her voice muffled. "First year it was 'what is the big monster dog guarding?' Second year was 'what's Petrifying all the students?' Now it's 'how is Sirius Black getting inside the castle?'"

"Don't forget 'when will he realize Charlie is in Ravenclaw?'" Ron added.

Hermione cuffed him across the head. "Let's not think about the questions right now," she said firmly. We really do need to try and get some sleep."

But Charlie's mind was humming, and the fact that she was why Sirius Black was trying so desperately to get into Hogwarts did not escape her. If someone else got killed because of her, she'd never be able to forgive herself.

...

"Good morning, all!"

Dumbledore's magically-amplified voice was more than enough to spur his students into consciousness. When hundreds of bleary eyes peered up at him, Dumbledore continued speaking with his normal tone. "The entirety of this castle has been searched and we have not found anything. I want to assure you that we will continue to ensure your safety, and we will not stop until we find out how Sirius Black infiltrated our walls. I know it's been a long, frightening night, so let's start the day off right with a hearty breakfast. While it is being prepared, why don't you all go to your dorms and freshen up?"

There was a buzz of conversation as everyone shuffled tiredly out of the Great Hall. Charlie ran her fingers through her hair, grimacing at the knots she encountered. "Ow."

"Mr. Lupin."

"Yes, Professor?" asked Harry warily as his Head of House approached him.

Charlie and Hermione quickly walked around him, ignoring the betrayal that flashed across his face. They tried slipping their way into the crowd but found themselves stuck in place. "Dang it," muttered Charlie. "They remembered."

Flitwick came over to them with narrowed eyes. "I do believe we need to have a discussion. Report to my office after you are finished getting ready."

"Yes, Professor," said Charlie and Hermione in unison.

Flitwick nodded and set them free from the invisible hold. They wasted no time in scampering off and Harry hastily caught up to them. "Thanks for that!" he snapped.

"I was hoping to delay the inevitable," said Charlie apologetically. "It didn't work."

"At least you're only in trouble once," said Harry sourly. "I shouldn't have made eye contact with Uncle Remus. He made the 'come to my quarters afterwards' gesture."

"That's a very specific gesture."

"Your faces were priceless," snickered Ron, coming up behind them.

They split up once they left the Great Hall and went to their respective dorms. Charlie wrangled a brush through her long hair, trying to work out the tight knots. She changed into a fresh pair of clothes and shrugged on her robes. She waited for Hermione in the common room and together they went to Flitwick's office.

Charlie knocked on his door and nudged it open when they were granted entrance. They dutifully went to stand in front of his desk, with Hermione wringing her hands nervously. Perched on his usual stack of cushions, Flitwick regarded his two wayward Ravenclaws with disapproval.

"What were you two thinking? I gave you an order. No wandering after dark."

"We were going to go to Ravenclaw Tower, honest!" insisted Charlie. "It's just when we got closer to Gryffindor Tower, we heard shouting, so we went to see what was going on."

"That does not change that fact that you were somewhere you weren't supposed to be, Miss Potter."

"We weren't alone," said Hermione weakly.

"You weren't alone last time, either," said Flitwick with a strict frown. "That is not an acceptable excuse. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Lupin may be very capable young men, but the efforts of all four of you combined would have nothing against Sirius Black. There is a reason for rules, and they are to keep you safe. Even when it became obvious that Sirius Black was in the castle, you still attempted to slip away!"

"Sorry," Hermione squeaked.

"I told you there would be severe consequences if you wandered the castle after dark again. Fifty points from Ravenclaw from the both of you."

Charlie's face fell. "Professor—"

"Do not argue, Miss Potter. If this upsets you, then may it serve as a reminder the next time you feel the urge to walk these corridors at night. You're both in Ravenclaw for a reason—start acting like it."

"Yes, Professor," said Hermione softly.

"Yes, Professor," echoed Charlie.

"I do not want to have this conversation with you two again. Miss Granger, you are dismissed."

Hermione shot Charlie a quick, questioning glance before leaving. Flitwick folded his hands against his desk and sighed heavily. "Miss Potter, there's something you should know. I had a long conversation with Professor Dumbledore last night and we both agree it's for the best. I don't want to frighten you but you need to understand why it's crucial that you follow these rules."

"It's because Sirius Black wants to kill me," interjected Charlie.

Flitwick was gobsmacked. "You know a mass murderer is after you and you still blatantly disobey the rules?"

Charlie rubbed the back of her neck, face red with embarrassment. "Well. When you put it that way, it makes me seem incredibly stupid—which I suppose isn't wrong."

"Nonsense. You're a bright girl. You simply have a habit of letting your curiosity overcome you. But now that I know you know about Black's true intentions I think we should take some extra precautions."

"Like what?" asked Charlie, dread starting to build in her gut.

"Perhaps you should take a hiatus from Quidditch."

"Professor, please no," said Charlie in dismay.

"For your own safety, Miss Potter," Flitwick said, sympathetic but firm. "We can't have you out in the pitch in the evening hours."

"Scarlet will be devastated. She's really motivated to win the Quidditch Cup this year. Please don't take away my Quidditch privileges," pleaded Charlie. "Couldn't a professor supervise the practices?"

Flitwick thought about it for a moment. "I will make you an offer, Miss Potter. If Madam Hooch is willing to supervise your Quidditch practices, I will allow you to continue your position as Seeker."

Charlie beamed. "Thank you!"

"If you wish to keep playing Quidditch, I suggest you heed the rules from here on out," warned Flitwick. "I will not tell you again. You may go."

Charlie left the office and immediately began her search for the Flying instructor. She ran into Ron during her hunt.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Professor Flitwick wasn't happy with us. We lost a hundred points."

Ron recoiled, as if the points had been taken away from Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw. "That's harsh."

"Well, I can't blame him. He also tried to tell me that Black is after me, but I told him I already knew."

"Now that must have been a priceless expression."

"It was. He thought about taking away Quidditch—"

"What?" interrupted Ron in horror. "He can't do that!"

"He can," said Charlie patiently. "I appreciate his concern. But you didn't let me finish. He won't take me off the team if I can get Madam Hooch to supervise my practices. I'm looking for her right now. Has breakfast started yet?"

"I don't think so. Most of the Gryffindors were still in the tower when I left, so we've probably got some time. I'll help you look."

"Well, I was thinking about checking the staff room."

"If you talk, I'll knock," offered Ron.

"Sounds good."

They walked through the castle and when they reached the staff room Ron rapped on the door. It took a minute for the door to open and McGonagall peered out at them. "Potter, Weasley. Why aren't you at breakfast?"

"We're going there next," said Charlie quickly. "I was just wondering if Madam Hooch was here, and if she is, may I speak to her?"

McGonagall nodded and disappeared. A second later Hooch appeared in the doorway, hawk-like eyes focussing on them. "Well, Potter, what can I do for you?"

"I just talked to Professor Flitwick. He doesn't want me to attend Quidditch practices because Sirius Black is on the loose and he's trying to get to me."

Hooch's gaze softened. "You know about that, eh?"

"Yes." It was a bit disturbing to Hooch how calm and collected the girl looked, despite knowing the frightful news. "I was hoping you would be willing to supervise my practices. Please?"

"Please?" chimed in Ron.

"Well, I don't see why not," said Hooch with a curt nod. "There's a copy of the Quidditch pitch booking here, so I'll know when your practices are."

A bright smile crossed Charlie's face. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome. I'll inform Professor Flitwick that he has no need to remove you as Seeker. He'll be as happy about it as you are."

Charlie bid goodbye and she and Ron hurried off to the Great Hall for breakfast. When their backs were turned Hooch allowed the fond smile to surface, easing the door shut behind her.

"What was that about?" McGonagall questioned from her place in a puffy armchair.

"Potter wanted to know if I would supervise her Quidditch practices. Filius isn't too settled by the idea of her being exposed in the evenings."

Sinistra glanced up from her grading with a frown. "But why would he tell her that? Won't that make her suspicious?"

"She already knows Black is after her."

The Astronomy professor gaped. "No! Filius told her?"

"It's for the best," said McGonagall. "With her penchant for getting into trouble, she needs to be aware. Albus should have told her the second she stepped foot into this castle."

"Did she seem frightened?" asked Sinistra.

Hooch shook her head. "Not at all, actually."

"And that worries me," muttered McGonagall.

...

Charlie, Ron and Hermione walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and were startled to find Snape standing at the front of the room. "Where's Professor Lupin?" Ron asked in surprise.

"He's ill," Snape said curtly. "Sit down."

The three took their regular seats. They watched the expressions of their peers as they came into the room, which ranged from dismay to pure horror. When class started Snape surveyed them with an almost bored expression.

"Since Lupin has failed to give me information on his lesson plans, we will spend this class learning about werewolves."

"Sir, we've just finished Grindylows," Hermione timidly spoke up. "We were about to start on—"

"I would expect my first-years to learn about Grindylows, Miss Granger," Snape interrupted. "But it is obvious that Professor Lupin doesn't have the competence to properly teach a class."

"He's a brilliant professor!" Dean Thomas snapped a few rows away. "The best DADA professor we've ever had!"

The three in the front flinched, knowing very well Dean had dug his own grave. Snape's black eyes glittered and he whispered, "Thirty points from Gryffindor. Speak out again, Thomas, and you'll receive a detention. Now all of you open your textbooks to page three-hundred and ninety-four."

Everyone took out their books and turned to the assigned page. "Who can tell me the basic distinction between a werewolf and a regular wolf?" Snape asked.

Hermione's hand shot into the air and to everyone's surprise, especially Hermione's, Snape nodded at her. "The snout of a werewolf is longer than that of a regular wolf," she answered.

"I suppose that will do. Only one person knows how to recognize a werewolf, eh? I'll have to inform Professor Dumbledore about Lupin's shoddy teaching skills. You will spend this class reading the chapter and I expect you to take notes."

There was an odd look in his eyes. It reminded Charlie of how Dudley would act whenever he knew she was about to get into trouble and was waiting for the backlash. Charlie flipped through the textbook, discovering the unit on werewolves several lessons ahead, and furrowed her brow.

Why werewolves?

Eventually the bell rang, signalling the end of class, and they all trooped out. "Professor Snape really has something against Professor Lupin, doesn't he?" muttered Hermione.

"Do you reckon it's because of the Boggart incident?" Ron asked.

Charlie shrugged. "I'm sure that didn't help. He's hated Professor Lupin since we arrived at Hogwarts. I don't know why, but it usually doesn't take much."

As the periods switched over, the three did not run into Harry, and therefore did not get a chance to give him a rundown of the day's lesson. Harry hurried into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom just before the bell chimed. His surprise at seeing Snape was not because he was expecting Remus. It was because this was the last person he thought Dumbledore would get to teach the course.

He sat in the front of the room with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott. He dug out his textbook and some parchment. "Today," spoke Snape, "we will be discussing werewolves."

Harry froze.

"Werewolves?" said Susan in confusion. "Professor, we just finished—"

"I don't care what you just finished, Miss Bones," said Snape acidly. "You are woefully behind in the subject matter. I intend to make up for Lupin's incompetence."

The Slytherins started to snicker. He could feel their eyes on the back of his neck. He took a slow breath, trying to calm his anger.

"Who can tell me the difference between a werewolf and a normal wolf?"

Harry peeked around. Not a single hand was in the air.

"Mr. Lupin."

Harry stared steadily at the tabletop. He ignored the jabs Hannah gave his side. Snape's eyes narrowed and he advanced, smacking his hands on either side of Harry's textbook. The boy reluctantly looked up, brown eyes flashing.

"Answer me when I'm talking to you."

"We're not yet on werewolves, sir," said Harry tightly. "I could tell you exactly where we left off, if you'd like."

"I am the one teaching this class. I do not require your assistance. Answer my question."

"I wouldn't know, sir," said Harry through gritted teeth.

Snape leaned closer, his nose just inches away from Harry's face. "Is that so, Mr. Lupin?"

Harry abruptly shot to his feet, forcing Snape to take a step back. His entire body trembled. "This isn't fair!" he hissed.

"You know nothing about fairness," snarled Snape. "Twenty points from Hufflepuff. Sit down."

There was a glimmer of glee in his black eyes that caused Harry to feel great rage. Snape knew exactly what he was doing and Harry knew what he was trying to do. For reasons he didn't understand, Snape was trying to prompt the students into discovering that his uncle was a werewolf.

"I won't have any part of this," he said, furious tears springing to his eyes.

He seized his supplies with one hand and his bag with the other. He stormed out of the class amidst startled gasps and he sprinted down the corridor, wanting to get as far away from Snape as possible.

He'd never before hated the Potions Master as much as he did in that moment. He was usually quiet in class and completed his work with a decent degree of efficiency and success. He knew by the cold glares Snape aimed in his direction and the venom that dripped from his tone when he spoke directly to him that Snape disliked him more than any other Hufflepuff. But he didn't do anything to rile the man, and so Snape didn't have much opportunity to torment him.

Snape seemed to have calmed this year, to the four of them at least, and Harry wasn't entirely sure why. He didn't care now, because surely, he had just reignited Snape's fury towards him. "They're wrong," he thought aloud, thinking of Charlie and Hermione. "He's just a much of a prat as he's always been."

What if someone finds out?

The castle walls felt like they were closing in on him and he rushed outside. The cold air slapped his cheeks, turning them red, and he took gulping breaths. He walked aimlessly across the grounds, clutching his book to his chest.

There's no way Uncle Remus agreed to have Snape teach his class. What was Dumbledore thinking?

"Mr. Lupin!"

Harry groaned softly and reluctantly turned around. Sprout was standing just outside the greenhouses, motioning him to come towards her. He shuffled over and Sprout demanded, "Is there a reason you're not in class where you belong?"

"I got into a tiff with Professor Snape," said Harry stiffly. "I left."

"I've been needing to have far too many talks with you for my liking, Mr. Lupin."

"It's his fault," snapped Harry. "He skipped all the way to the lesson on werewolves!"

Sprout paused for a moment. "Ah." Her voice softening, she said, "I know that must cause you some distress, especially since your guardian isn't the one doing the teaching. But that's no reason to skip Defense Against the Dark Arts or mouth off to your professor."

"He's doing it on purpose," insisted Harry. "There's no reason to miss all those other lessons if he wasn't trying to expose my uncle."

Sprout's gaze sharpened. "Do not make such accusations with no evidence, Mr. Lupin."

Harry looked away in frustration, feeling the tears build and start to spill over. He roughly rubbed them away. "If someone finds out, they're going to tell, and Uncle Remus is going to get kicked out of the castle."

Sprout removed a handkerchief from her robes and handed it to her Badger. Though it was streaked with dirt Harry didn't care, finding a clean portion to rub at his eyes. Sprout set a hand against Harry's arm and said gently, "I assure you, Mr. Lupin, no student in the school has the idea that Remus is a werewolf. He's been hiding it very well, and so have you. Though I suspect barging out of class might raise some questions."

Harry's ears turned red. "I guess."

"Even if someone manages to connect the dots, Dumbledore will not remove him from the castle simply because people know. He was the one who let Remus attend Hogwarts and he's the one who offered him the job. You need not worry."

"All right," said Harry dubiously, his emotions ebbing slightly. "I still don't know why Professor Snape insists on doing werewolves."

"It is his class, so he picks the lesson," said Sprout pointedly. "It is not to you to argue what he teaches."

"I know," muttered Harry.

"Can I trust you to go back to class, or do I need to leave my sixth-years on their own while I personally escort you?"

"I'll go back." Harry returned the handkerchief and said quietly, "Thank you, Professor."

Sprout smiled warmly, patting his hand. "Of course, Mr. Lupin. I do recommend you speak with your uncle, if you are still concerned. But I truly believe you have nothing to worry about."

That's because Snape doesn't look at you like he wants to kill you on the spot, thought Harry bitterly.

He made his way back to the castle, not entirely certain if Snape would let him back in class but knowing that Sprout would have his head if he didn't try. He approached the door, wariness on his features, and lightly knocked.

When Snape turned to face him, Harry managed to keep his voice neutral as he asked quietly, "May I come back to class?"

Snape tilted his head, regarding Harry with a sneer. "That depends on you, Lupin. Do you or do you not know the difference between a werewolf and a regular wolf?"

"Werewolves have a shorter snout, human-like eyes, a tufted tail and they hunt mindlessly," said Harry, trying to speak as quickly as possible. "Wolves are not aggressive. They very rarely target humans."

Snape had not expected Harry to answer so thouroughly. It was clear the boy knew exactly what he trying to accomplish, given the suspicion and anger swirling in his eyes. But his voice remained calm, his posture resigned, and Snape gave a short nod of his head.

"Thank you." Harry filed into the room and took his seat, where his Hufflepuff companions looked at him worriedly.

"I will be assigning homework at the end of class, Mr. Lupin. You will be writing an extra foot."

"Yes, sir."

"Open your textbook and start making notes on the werewolf chapter."

Harry suppressed his scowl as he complied. Snape left him alone for the rest of class, and Harry hoped his peers didn't make the connection between his uncle's absence and last night's full moon.

...

"Scarlet, this is mad!" Tommy Nickerson howled over the roaring winds and pounding rain.

It was the day of their first Quidditch game, where they'd be facing Hufflepuff. The weather was just awful—rain slashed through the air, the sky was a dark grey and the winds nearly took them off their feet.

"Hufflepuff isn't calling off this game and neither am I!" Scarlet shouted with her dark hair plastered to her face. Her eyes burned with competitive passion. "We are going to play and we are going to win!"

"This is ridiculous," Aurora Lore muttered. "How are we supposed to see our targets in this mess?"

"Use your gut feeling," Scarlet snapped. Off in the distance they could see the yellow Quidditch robes of the Hufflepuff team. Students were gathering into the stands, braving the conditions to see their beloved sport.

Clancy Stevenson shook his head as they filed to the middle of the pitch. "Looks like that backflip on my broom will have to wait until the skies are clear."

"Are you sure you don't want to attempt it today?" Aurora asked innocently. "I'm sure you'd do wonderfully."

"Please! You just want to see me face-plant on the pitch."

"I really don't like this," Danny Carting said nervously. "I can hardly see my hand in front of my face."

Eliza Mourning patted his trembling shoulder in comfort. "I'm sure Headmaster wouldn't let us play if he knew something terrible would happen to us."

Madam Hooch hovered on her broom just above the two teams. "You know the drill; a good clean game, and be especially alert in this weather. Are you sure you don't want to reschedule?"

"No!" Scarlet and the Hufflepuff team captain hollered.

Charlie cast a glance at Harry, who only seemed to be paying half-attention. He had been subdued over the past couple of days, apparently due to an argument with Snape. He didn't explain what the argument was about and they didn't press.

"At least you didn't blow him up with magic," she had joked. Harry had barely managed to muster a smile in response.

The whistle blast was hardly heard over a crack of thunder. Jolted from their thoughts, Harry and Charlie shot into the sky with the rest of the players. Charlie relied on her sense of hearing, trying to pinpoint where the whistling Bludgers were at all times. Her eyes were on the lookout for the glittering Golden Snitch. She couldn't make out Cedric through the downpour, but she knew he was also on the hunt.

Geez Louise! Charlie swerved just in time to avoid the Bludger rushing towards her. If Sirius Black is lucky, then this match is going to be the end of me!

"Albus, you are insane!" Remus hissed from the staff stands as he stared worriedly at the game. He wished he could see his charge clearly, but the weather made visibility nearly impossible.

Harry had visited his quarters as soon as he knew it was safe to do so. After their conversation, Remus noticed that Harry hadn't been as focussed lately, disturbed over Snape's attempts to force the topic of werewolves on the third-years. Remus knew Harry wasn't wrong in his assumptions, but nonetheless scolded him for talking back. He didn't want Harry to get in trouble for his sake.

"I'll tell everyone they don't have to do the essay," he had promised. "But the next time Snape fills in for me, you must not let him get to you. It's my job to worry about you, Harry. Not the other way around."

Harry hadn't been pleased, but he agreed.

After several minutes of fruitlessly searching the skies, he finally managed to pinpoint Harry. He was constantly pausing in the air, scrubbing at his face. Charlie flew up to him and there was a brief glow as she muttered a spell. The Ravenclaws knew at once what she had done and groaned while the Hufflepuffs cheered their gratitude.

"What happened?" Sprout asked frantically. "I can't see a thing!"

"This is precisely why we should call this match off!" Remus cried.

"Charlotte has just cast an Impervius Charm on Harry's glasses," Dumbledore informed.

"Well, that was nice of her. Ten points to Ravenclaw," Sprout declared.

"Severus, give me those binoculars! I want to see something!" McGonagall snapped at the Potions professor, who sat below her. "I don't even know how you can see anything, Albus!"

"An old man has his tricks," Albus said idly. "Remus, you must calm down. I attended this game specifically so no student would be harmed. They were so looking forward to it and I didn't want to deprive them. If one falls off, I'll be sure to catch them."

"You better!" Flitwick and Sprout shouted.

Now that Remus knew which one was Harry, he didn't tear his eyes away. Harry was his world. If Remus had the power to bring back James and Lily, he would do so in a heartbeat. But he couldn't, and being allowed the responsibility to raise Harry as his own child distracted him from his grief. He sometimes felt guilty for being so happy, for he knew the things he was doing with Harry were activities James should have shared with his son. But the joy was overwhelming, and he loved Harry deeply. He had pleaded for Dumbledore to let him take Charlie as well, and was devastated when he learned the twins would be separated.

He gave Harry the best life he could. He tried to keep his true identity a secret, but it proved to be almost impossible. How could you explain where you went once a month and came back looking unwell? How did you explain an almost endless line of babysitters and nannies? It didn't help that Harry was perceptive. Remus had been forced to deliver the truth when he was seven. Though Harry knew werewolves were monsters, he wasn't scared. Not a bit. He latched on to Remus and wouldn't let go. And when his Boggart had transformed into a werewolf, Harry took the first chance to speak to his uncle in private, explaining that he was scared Remus would become a werewolf permanently and leave him.

He was so understanding and so loving. Harry was a gift he didn't deserve but cherished. He would always be immensely grateful to Dumbledore for convincing the Ministry that despite his affliction, he would make a suitable guardian. It had taken several inspections, but eventually they were convinced that Remus would always take the proper precautions and would never put Harry at risk.

Remus longed to tell Charlie and Harry the truth. He desperately wanted to tell Harry about his parents without fabricating names or details. But the longer it was kept a secret the longer Harry wouldn't be at risk of being discovered by the Dark Lord. If Sirius had known, if he had been present at the birth—it wouldn't just be Charlie he'd be trying to kill.

A pang went off in his chest along with an uncomfortable feeling. Even now, after all these years he had trouble believing that Sirius was in ranks with the Dark Lord. Remus gave his head a sharp shake and returned his full attention to the game. Through the mist he caught something strange coming towards the pitch and he turned white. "Albus! The Dementors—"

But he need not finish his warning. A frigid cold swept through the stadium along with a sudden silence. He could see the students screaming but could not hear them. Cedric snagged the Snitch just as dozens of black Dementors swarmed, causing the Quidditch players to scatter. The teachers launched to their feet and attempted to cast the Patronus Charm, but none of them were even close to being effective against the mass of Dementors.

Snape's blood felt ice cold and Lily's corpse flashed unbidden through his mind. The terror of Dumbledore's students penetrated his despair, freeing him from the memory of his sister's death. Fury radiated from the Headmaster as he cast his Patronus, which was successful in repelling the Dementors.

"Albus!" shouted Snape. "Potter!"

Dumbledore's gaze cut through the mist. Charlie was limp in the arms of Harry, who was hanging precariously over his broom as he desperately tried to keep the girl from falling. His cry of anguish penetrated the air when she slipped from his grasp and hurtled for the ground. Dumbledore quickly cast a spell that caused Charlie to slow down, so that she hit the pitch with less force.

The teachers raced from the stands. "Minerva, Aurora, Pomona, get these students into the Great Hall! Make sure Poppy is on standby with a supply of chocolate," demanded Dumbledore.

"I can't accept this!" Cedric could be heard shouting as they neared. He was standing next to Madam Hooch, who was frantically trying to get a response out of the prone Ravenclaw. "Charlotte fell because of those Dementors. This win doesn't count!"

"You won fair and square, Cedric," Scarlet said, squeezing his shoulder. "Charlie would agree."

"Back to the castle," Flitwick instructed his Quidditch team. "You've been in the rain long enough."

"But Professor—!"

"We'll take care of Miss Potter, Miss Ezra."

Scarlet looked at Charlie desperately. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I promise, she will be on her feet soon enough," assured Dumbledore. "This has been a terrible ordeal. I apologize for allowing such a thing to happen."

"It wasn't your fault, Headmaster," Eliza managed to say. "You couldn't have known the Dementors would get onto the pitch."

She was pale and trembling and that only increased Dumbledore's anger. How dare the Dementors treat his students in such a way? "I insist all of you go to the Great Hall for some warmth and chocolate."

The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Quidditch teams reluctantly obeyed, shooting Charlie worried looks as they left. Only three students remained.

Harry clutched Charlie's hand; fear written across his pale face. Ron held on to her other hand, his entire body trembling with terror. Hermione gently cradled Charlie's head in her lap, keeping it off the muddy ground. Their hair was plastered to their faces and their robes stuck to their bodies. They shivered violently from the cold but did not move.

"Children," Dumbledore spoke softly. The three defiant expressions almost made him smile. He felt enormously grateful that Charlotte had such loyal friends. She would most certainly need them more and more as time wore on.

"We're not leaving!" Harry said hotly.

"We're staying with her," Ron agreed.

"Will she be all right?" Hermione asked tearfully.

"None of you will be if you stay in this weather any longer," Snape spoke up. "I suggest you listen to the Headmaster and stop being so foolish."

Remus bent down and gently pried Harry from Charlie's limp body. "Pup, she'll be fine. Come along."

Harry pressed close to his uncle and allowed himself to be escorted from the field. The fear he had felt from Charlie was intense, more so than the other times she encountered the Dementors. He hated it, and he hated the Dementors for doing this to his sister.

Hermione and Ron slowly moved away from Charlie as Dumbledore conjured up a stretcher. He levitated Charlie onto it and started after Remus and Harry towards the castle at a fast but careful pace.

"Where's Miss Potter's broomstick?" Flitwick questioned.

"It blew away," Ron said faintly, gesturing in the direction of the Whomping Willow.

Flitwick flinched. "I suppose I ought to see if I can retrieve it."

Snape eyed the two frozen students, who were standing stock-still, grief and anguish evident in their eyes. The same feelings that were currently twisting around his heart, the ones he felt every time he thought of her.

Lily.

He steeled himself against the swell of emotions, keeping his expression blank. "I assure you Miss Potter will be fine. Your own health will be in jeopardy if you continue to stand here mindlessly. I'd rather not have your mother come after me if she learns I left you out here, Ronald."

Startled by the use of his first name and the fact that the strict and cruel Potions Master had actually made a joke, Ron numbly started off for the castle. Hermione followed after him, trying in vain to keep the tears at bay and failing.

A green handkerchief was pressed into her hand. "You children and your dramatics," muttered Snape. "It's a wonder I haven't quit yet."

...

When Charlie's eyes fluttered open, she found herself in the hospital wing. Her brow furrowed and she slowly sat up. The last thing she remembered was flying through the rain, searching for the Snitch. What had happened—

Oh. Right.

The Dementors flocking in...glimpsing Cedric catch the Snitch...falling into total darkness…hearing her mother's dying screams...

A sob escaped her throat and she pressed her palm over her mouth to try and keep quiet. Tears blurred her eyes as her mother's voice echoed through her mind. It was the first time she had ever heard it, and it shouldn't have sounded so horrible.

A soft snore caused her to turn her head. Ron and Harry were sleeping in chairs next to her bed, while Hermione was slumbering on the couch near the door.

"Miss Potter."

Charlie watched as Snape entered the room. "Professor," she croaked.

Snape glanced at Hermione. "Your little friends refused to leave. Madam Pomfrey was ready to throw them out but Professor Dumbledore intervened."

Charlie nodded. She couldn't keep her tears contained and they streamed down her cheeks. Snape's frown sharpened and he moved to her side. "Are you injured?"

"No," she whispered.

"Then why the tears?"

Her mother screaming, begging for her life, screaming screaming screaming.

"Is it normal to hear voices when the Dementors are near?"

"Only in very traumatic cases," Snape drawled.

"That makes sense," said Charlie with a hiccup.

"Miss Potter, do you hear voices?" asked Snape slowly.

"Yeah. I…I hear…I hear my mother. As she's dying."

The admittance caused her to start to sob uncontrollably. She buried her face into her hands, her entire body shaking with grief and despair. Snape was frozen for a moment before he cautiously approached the distraught girl. He set a hand on her shoulder and the positive, comforting contact was all Charlie needed. She turned her face into Snape's robes and clung to him as she wept.

With her vision obstructed by black fabric, she did not see the spasm of torment and agony crossing Snape's face.