On the Hogwarts Express, Harry and Draco looked for an empty compartment, moving toward the rear of the train. The only compartment they found without other students was already occupied by a single, shabbily dressed adult who appeared to be asleep.
"What's that guy doing here?" said Harry. "This is the Hogwarts Express, not the London Underground."
"What's the London Underground?"
Before Harry could answer, he heard a voice shouting his name.
"Harry, Draco! Down here!"
Further toward the rear of the train, Harry saw Pansy Parkinson leaning out of a compartment. The two boys walked down to her. Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini were already in the compartment, arguing about professional quidditch. Harry and Draco joined in immediately.
Pansy dropped into a seat near the window. "I didn't call you in here to talk about quidditch. I called you in here to talk to me about something OTHER THAN QUIDDITCH."
"Pansy," Draco said, "There are some battles that are not worth fighting. Harry and I never ask you to stop talking about clothes."
Theo burst into laughter. "Do you realize how stereotypical you and Pansy are acting?"
"It would be funnier if Draco were fat and bald," Harry said.
"You mean, 'It would be better if Draco were Crabbe?'" said Theo.
Harry and Zabini laughed loudly, while Draco and Pansy both began to scowl.
"Okay," said Harry, "it'll be a wizarding wireless program, and we'll call it Better Off Crabbe."
Theo picked right up. "Draco works in the Ministry…"
"…Department of Muggle Relations," said Harry.
"I would never work in Muggle Relations!" snapped Draco.
"And Pansy's a secretary at a solicitor's office," Harry said.
"I would never work," snapped Pansy.
"They live next door to a wacky neighbor…" said Harry.
"…Theo Nott, an out-of-work comedian," said Nott.
"Their best friend, Harry Potter, lives across town…"
"With his girlfriend, Blaise Zabini," said Theo.
"What!" Blaise was truly offended. "I am not a girl, and I refuse to allow my role to be played by one!"
Harry shook his head. "Too late, Zabini. We need two couples and a wacky neighbor. Wacky neighbor was already taken by Theo."
"And with a name like 'Harry,' Potter just isn't girlfriend material," said Nott.
As Blaise sputtered and protested, Harry and Theo began describing girl-Blaise. Pansy and Draco quickly realized that Blaise had replaced them as a target for taking the mickey, and they joined Harry and Theo in teasing Blaise. Girl-Blaise quickly took shape: beautiful blue hair, bright purple eyes, unsurpassed charm and wit, voluptuous curves and magical knowledge greater than Dumbledore's. Harry was laughing so hard that he barely registered that the Hogwarts Express was slowing down.
Draco spun a tale in which girl-Blaise became soul-bonded to Harry, requiring perpetual physical contact but allowing Harry to defeat Voldemort with the power of purest love. Harry's stomach began to cramp from laughter. Also, Pansy added, Harry and girl-Blaise's children had glowing yellow hair and could fly.
Finally, Blaise snapped and drew his wand. "I will hex you all unless you stop this. Immediately!"
As their laughter died down, Harry noticed that the train had come to a full stop.
"Why are we stopping here?" Draco asked, looking out the window. "We're not nearly to Hogwarts."
The door to the compartment opened, and the air grew dark and cold. A cloaked figure loomed in the doorway, breath rasping. The compartment was suddenly cold, and Harry felt as if he would never be warm again. Darkness swam at the edge of his vision, and distantly he heard a piercing scream. At the door there was a burst of white light, then the darkness came swarming in…
"Harry? HARRY! Wake up, mate!"
Harry shook his head. He was looking at the ceiling of the compartment, which was odd, because just a moment before he had been looking at the door.
"What…?"
"You're on the floor, mate."
That explained a lot.
"You fainted, Harry," said a gravely voice.
That explained more.
Harry recognized the first voice as Draco's, but he didn't know the second. Harry sat up and his vision swam.
"Slowly, Harry," said the gravelly voice. "Have some chocolate. It will help."
Harry found a piece of candy thrust into his hand. He automatically took a bite. Growing up with the Dursleys had taught Harry that chocolate was a food to be eaten quickly, before your cousin could find you and take it for himself.
Harry felt a little better. "What was that thing? Was Pansy screaming? Is she okay?"
"I'm fine, Harry." Pansy was behind Draco. "It's so nice to know you care."
"Nobody was screaming," said Draco.
"'That thing' was a dementor," said the man with the gravely voice. "One of Azkaban's guards. If you'll excuse me, I must go speak with the driver." He quickly slipped out of the compartment.
"Who was that?" asked Harry.
"Apparently our new Defense professor," said Theo. "Looks like hell, but he got rid of that dementor right quick."
Harry climbed back to his feet. "Tell me everything that happened."
"The dementor came in, and everything got cold and awful," said Pansy. "I was in such a good mood… but it was like every funny thing we said about Blaise had never happened."
"They never did happen," said Blaise, still in a huff. "None of it was funny."
"I felt the cold, too," said Draco, "but you really lost it, Harry. You started twitching and shaking and then you collapsed."
"Then the professor came by and shot something silver out of his wand at the dementor." Theo was still focused on the new professor. "Whatever that spell was, it chased the dementor all the way down the train."
Crabbe and Goyle burst into the compartment.
"Did you see the dementor?" Crabbe asked.
"I wonder what it was looking for," Goyle wondered.
"It was looking for Sirius Black, you lump," said Harry. "What else would an Azkaban guard be doing on the train?"
"Oh," said Goyle. "That makes sense."
"You have no sense," said Harry. Harry was in no mood for stupidity.
There was a pause in conversation. "Sounds like you saw the dementor, then," said Crabbe.
Harry stared daggers at Crabbe, but said nothing. The rest of the train ride was very quiet.
Harry tried to go directly to the Great Hall, but he was intercepted by Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Potter? Come with me, please."
McGonagall took Harry to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey fussed over Harry for almost twenty minutes before Harry could persuade her that he was fine, and that there was no need to worry about permanent damage from his dementor encounter. By the time McGonagall escorted Harry to the Great Hall, the Sorting had already finished and most of the students had begun eating. As Harry took his seat, he noticed that McGonagall was pulling Hermione Granger away from the feast.
Harry took a seat next to Draco and began helping himself to dinner.
"What was that about?" asked Draco.
"Nothing," said Harry. "And what's Flint doing here?"
Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin quidditch team for the last two years, was sitting near the end of the table, eating alone. Last year's beaters sat nearby, but Flint was staring straight ahead, totally silent.
"Flint failed his exams last year," Draco said in a low voice. "And with last year's matches being cancelled because of the attacks, no profession team was
willing to sign him." Draco's mouth curled up slightly, a sneer that Harry had come to know well. "I don't care how good he is at quidditch; he's an embarrassment."
Harry nodded. In Slytherin, you were either clever enough to pass the exams on your own, or cunning enough to cheat without getting caught. If you couldn't do either, well, you were hardly a Slytherin.
"Will he be playing quidditch?" Harry asked.
"Warrington says that McGonagall and Snape got in a row about it," Draco said. "McGonagall wanted Flint disqualified because of his age. Snape wanted Flint to have another year, because he started playing in his third year, not his second. Dumbledore sided with Snape."
"I bet that wasn't Snape's real reason," Harry said. "Quidditch might be Flint's only real career path, if he's too thick to pass exams. Snape is trying to get him more games in front of the pro scouts."
Draco nodded. "Absolutely. But Snape had to justify it to Dumbledore somehow."
"Well, good for us," Harry said. "No chance of basilisk attacks this year, so we'll have a chance to win the Quidditch Cup."
"A silver lining to every cloud. Spoken like a true Slytherin."
"Silver and green lining, Draco. Silver and green."
A/N: Next week is the last week of short chapters. After that, we'll be back to full length, Friday-only updates.