Chapter 8
This year, Platform 9 and 3/4s appeared as it had in previous years, except for one significant change. Upon crossing the brick barrier, Harry's eyes immediately landed on the wanted posters of Sirius Black. With a menacing glare, the man seethed in rage and struggled fiercely against the guards restraining him. Harry's fists clenched tightly at the sight of Black, his mind racing with thoughts of retribution should they ever encounter each other.
Harry earnestly hoped that the man would betray Tom. He vividly imagined the man screaming under the influence of his mentor's curses, an event that would allow Harry to exact his revenge on behalf of his parents. Lost in his thoughts, Harry had stopped in his tracks, unaware of his surroundings. A gentle bump from behind startled him, and he turned to offer a murmured apology. However, the young woman who had bumped into him was already fuming with impatience. "What on Earth are you doing?" she scolded, "Get out of the way."
With a cold expression, Harry composed himself as he observed the familiar blonde figure. "I apologize, Ms. Greengrass. I momentarily forgot myself."
The girl had matured in her appearance over the Summer. Once marked by an air of aloofness, her appearance began to reveal a depth hidden beneath her cold blue eyes and frosty exterior. While her regal bearing remained, a subtle shift had occurred within her. It was as if a new chapter had unfolded in her life, etching itself onto her countenance.
Harry, who had previously only observed the girl from afar, couldn't help but notice the change in her demeanor. Her eyes, once guarded and unyielding, now held a flicker of something he had never seen before—a haunting quality that seemed to hint at a story yet untold.
He had never had the opportunity to truly engage with her, and the distance between them had prevented him from perceiving the subtle nuances of her emotions. But now, as he studied her from a closer vantage point, he realized that there was something different about her. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a vulnerability that had long been concealed.
As he watched her navigate a whirlwind of feelings, Harry felt a sense of intrigue wash over him. What had happened during the summer months to evoke such a transformation? He couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but he knew that there was more to this girl than he had initially perceived.
With a momentary softening of her steely expression, her mouth slightly agape, she quickly recomposed herself and uttered, "Potter, are you intentionally obstructing our timely arrival at the train?"
"That was not my intention." Harry said with a huff, "I was just admiring the wanted posters."
"Big dreams of being on one?" Daphne inquired coldly.
"For murdering those that annoy me, yes." Harry returned back with a near hiss.
Daphne took a slight step back in surprise, before shaking her head, "Charming."
The girl appeared to eye him up and down for a moment as if she were looking for a weakness, but eventually said, "Looks like you've been busy. Must have been a good Summer."
Frowning at the girl, not understanding her meaning, he shrugged, "As good as it could be considering I spent it with muggles."
Despite her expressionless face, a flicker of surprise crossed in the girl's eyes, leading Harry to suspect she was taken aback. He had never discussed his home life with anyone in Slytherin, and if he hadn't been preparing to defend his changed appearance, he wouldn't have even brought it up.
Daphne shook her head, "Ah, yes, well, if you will excuse me, my sister ran ahead and jumped on the train in her excitement. I am going to try and reign her in."
"First year?" Harry asked politely.
"Indeed. See you around, Potter." Daphne's eyes remained on his for a moment, before she broke off from their conversation and boarded the train without a second glance behind her.
Shaking off the encounter Harry sighed as he boarded the train, found an empty compartment, and placed a simple privacy ward on the door. The teen hoped the basic ward would be enough to keep the other students away until they arrived at Hogwarts, but a part of him figured that would not be the case.
With his trunk amplified to normal size, Harry reached in and retrieved a book he had been engrossed in. His dedication to comprehending the fundamentals of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy was evident in his efforts to stay ahead in his studies. Tom's extensive explanation had enlightened him about the potential applications of these subjects as he progressed further in his education. In essence, he realized that both disciplines held immense practical value.
In the realm of ancient magic, Runes held immense significance as the foundation for future rituals aimed at elevating a wizard's power to its peak. Each symbol and language inscribed in various corners of the magical world carried distinct meanings. Their precise drawing or design was paramount to maximize their effectiveness.
Furthermore, Runes played a pivotal role in wards, both in their creation and their destruction. This led to the emergence of Arithmancy, a discipline that intertwined mathematics and magic in the magical world. While a witch or wizard might be skilled at identifying which Runes powered a particular area of wards, deciphering the exact method to destroy them required a deeper understanding of magical mathematics.
Arithmancy provided the tools to quantify the power of Runes and devise strategies for their destruction. It enabled practitioners to determine the precise amount of energy needed to dismantle a ward without depleting their own reserves excessively. This understanding was crucial, as certain wards could only be overcome through brute force. However, exerting such force often came at the cost of exhausting the wizard's energy, leaving them vulnerable in subsequent encounters.
Arithmancy thus became an essential discipline for witches and wizards seeking to master the art of wards and gain an edge in magical battles. By combining the ancient wisdom of Runes with the precision of mathematics, Arithmancy offered a potent tool for shaping the magical landscape and influencing the outcome of conflicts.
Tom was naturally an exception to this rule and promised Harry could be too if we went forward with the rituals his mentor had planned for him. Even if one could break every combination of wards and runes with brute force, sometimes it would be better to finesse your way through. This could allow you to breach places undetected, or even lay down traps for those who might step into your path.
With a keen interest in a rare and challenging form of magic, Harry was drawn to parselmagic. According to the young Dark Lord, this magic found its greatest applications in wards and curses, making it a sought-after skill among those few capable of wielding it.
As Harry delved into the subject of Runes however he understood that this type of magic was far from black and white. Unlike most branches of magic, power was not everything when it came to Ancient Runes and its branches of study. In fact, Ancient Runes was a culmination of Astronomy, Arithmancy, and even advanced Charms. Not only did the power of the caster matter, but the location, the alignment of the planets, and even the day that the magic is created on could play a factor in the final product. Runes were profound and the things you could do with them were practically endless and capable of producing whatever one could imagine.
In a conversation that sparked Harry's interest, Tom enthusiastically discussed the subject of Runes. Tom's animated descriptions of the subject's capabilities captivated Harry's attention. Remarkably, Harry and Tom were the only wizards in Britain capable of comprehending an entire branch of Runes in connection with Parseltongue. This revelation thrilled the young teen, who promptly promised his mentor diligent study to unlock unprecedented possibilities.
It was during the monologues of his mentor that Harry realized that Tom was meant to be a revolutionist. Not just in the way he wants to bring Muggles to their knees, or become leader of the Magical World, it was the way he spoke of magic. The reverence in which he held it. To Tom magic was the ultimate power in the universe, and was capable of things that the human mind couldn't even fathom. Harry could only imagine what Tom had been like at the height of his power, and understood how he drew so many to his side. The man had the mind, but the fact that he had the power to back up his craziest thoughts and theories is what made him special.
As the train jolted and lurched, Harry let out a curse, almost tumbling out of his seat. Peering out the window, his brows furrowed in confusion. The train was on top of a bridge, and there was no sign of Hogsmeade in sight. Judging by the sun's position, Harry realized he had been engrossed in his studies and had not noticed how much time had passed. Despite his distraction, the fact remained that they were nowhere close to their intended destination.
The train never stopped once it began, and an uneasy feeling passed through Harry. A thick fog engulfed the compartment, accompanied by a bone-chilling cold that settled in. The glass windows frosted over, and his eyes widened in apprehension, recognizing the ominous presence of what he believed to be was dark magic.
With a surge of wildness coursing through his veins, Harry pondered, "Has Black come for me?". His wand drawn, he swiftly dismantled his protective ward, causing the door to burst open. As he stepped into the corridor, his heart pounded violently in his chest. His eyes frantically scanned the surroundings, searching for any indication of danger. It didn't take long for him to locate a potential threat.
In the dim hallway, a towering figure loomed, its presence ominous and imposing. Dressed in robes as dark as the moonless sky, they billowed and swirled like wisps of smoke. With every passing moment, as Harry gazed upon the creature, an icy chill spread through the air, seeping into his bones. A profound sense of despair overwhelmed him as the beast slowly turned its skeletal face in his direction. It was a hopeless feeling, as if even the faintest glimmer of joy had been extinguished from his soul, leaving him in an abyss of desolation.
If it wasn't obvious he was dealing with a Dementor before, it was now. The dark creature's gradual approach toward Harry became undeniable, casting a shroud of fear that briefly immobilized him. However, despite the numbing cold in his frostbitten hand, he mustered the strength to raise his wand, crackling with a threatening aura. With a determined voice, he declared, "Sirius Black is not aboard this train. Leave."
Unmoved by his words, the dementor remained unaffected. A distant feminine voice whispered in his ear, a chilling scream that sent shivers down his spine. It echoed through his mind as if it were calling out his name.
When the dementor came within ten feet of Harry took a few steps back in fear, before planting himself with determination, "Get back! Incendio."
Hot fire roared from his wand and filled the corridor striking the beast making it hiss in rage. No longer was the beast floating idly as it surged forward towards Harry. In desperation, Harry raised his wand lashing out with a spell Tom had taught him, "Mortis Umbra!"
From Harry's wand, a shadowy aura shot out, striking the dementor's center. Initially, nothing happened, and the creature stood frozen. Shadows danced around the hallway, leaping towards the dementor, causing it to emit a freight-like shriek. At the first shadow's contact, the creature recoiled, and Harry experienced a fleeting sense of triumph. He swiftly twirled his wand above his head like a lasso, creating a protective barrier between himself and the dementor.
With a deep breath, Harry expressed gratitude for Tom's lecture on the advantages of offensive curses. The spell's purpose was to induce a bone-chilling cold sensation and instill paralyzing fear. Used strategically, it could deplete the victim's life force, potentially leading to death if left unattended. In Harry's current predicament, it was the most effective weapon at his disposal and had proven successful in temporarily slowing down the Azkaban guard.
Before Harry could celebrate the wall of magic Harry had created ruptured and the dementor hissed in rage swatting Harry's raised wand away, and picking him up by the throat. The icy hand that held his throat burned him in an instant and he cried out in pain. As he was raised up to the top of the train Harry desperately reached for his wand, but it was far out of reach.
"Take Harry upstairs as fast as you can, go Lily!" A voice roared in his ear.
As Harry heard the distantly familiar voice, his body became rigid with fear. His eyes shot upward, meeting the horrifying sight of the dementor's skeletal mouth. The creature's face, devoid of any flesh, resembled a skull, its empty eye sockets seeming to peer into Harry's very soul. A chilling sensation enveloped Harry as he stared into the dementor's chilling eyes, feeling as though his very essence was being drained. The creature's breath, a cold, clammy mist, swirled around its mouth, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Harry's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing as he desperately searched for a way to break free from the dementor's grip. He knew that if he succumbed to its power, he would lose himself forever, trapped in a state of perpetual darkness and despair.
Whose voice was that? Harry questioned internally.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" A cold high voice screeched in his ears.
A feeling of despair and loss went through Harry as he attempted to fight away the dancing spots of pain in his eyes. When his eyes closed, he wished he had never even blinked.
A young red headed woman in her early twenties was running up the stairs, holding onto him tightly. Harry watched as she slammed the door behind her and whispered, "It's going to be okay, Harry. You are going to be okay. Momma loves you. Dadda loves you."
An explosion of sound erupted from behind them, and suddenly he was sitting in a crib. Unable to move more than a few inches he heard a cold voice say, "Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now."
"No, take me instead. Please. I beg of you." The red-headed woman cried.
"Avada Kedavra!" The man roared, and the woman slumped to the ground in an instant.
Suddenly the wand was pointed in his face now, and a flash of green light tunneled his vision.
"Expecto Patronum!" A voice cried out, and Harry slumped to the ground.
Over and over the green light filled his vision. The death of the red-headed woman played again and again. Harry stared forward at the wall, his eyes seeing nothing, but the vision the dementor had shown him. The final moment of his parents' lives. The moment Voldemort had killed his family.
"Mr. Potter, are you okay? Mr. Potter, can you hear me?" A scruffy man shook Harry back to reality, but the eyes of the teen boy were glassy, and life slowly returned to them as the man cast a warming charm on his body.
It took nearly a full minute of being prodded, but Harry slowly returned to reality as he whispered, "My parents."
Harry couldn't truly see the expression on the man's face, but it was of absolute horror. When his focus did return he noted that the middle-aged man had a thin face with a pallor that suggested he didn't get much rest. His eyes were lined with worry, and he looked tired, like he had not slept in days.
"Mr. Potter, I need you to eat this. It will make you feel better, I promise." The man said, forcing a piece of food into his hand, and assisting Harry to guide it towards his mouth.
The food brought some warmth back to Harry's body, and it took a moment to realize he was being fed chocolate. In a whisper, Harry said, "I thought Sirius Black was coming for me. I was going to confront him."
"That was a very foolish thing to attempt, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black is a very gifted wizard." The older man said fiercely. A moment passed before he then whispered, "Then again attacking a dementor was equally foolish."
The black spots began to leave Harry's vision, and when they were completely focused the only remaining pain was on his throat. When his hand reached up to touch the sensitive area he winced away at the feeling of shredded skin. The man shook his head, "I fear that is going to scar."
Swallowing heavily, Harry attempted to rise to his own feet, before appraising the man carefully, "Who are you?"
"Remus Lupin." The man introduced, "I will be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor this year…are you alright? You really should go see Madame Pomfrey when we return to the castle."
"I will be fine." Harry dismissed before taking a look at the hallway down the train observing that a battle appeared to have taken place. As he did so he saw many curious faces peering out from their compartments and he inwardly groaned at the rumors that would follow his fight with the dementor.
"If you insist on avoiding the Hospital Wing then I insist you take the rest of this chocolate at the very least." The man demanded shoving a large packet into Harry's hands.
Harry just nodded gratefully and the man looked at him appraisingly, "That was some spell you used on the dementor. It was what caught my attention that a fight was breaking out. The guards were supposed to just be a routine inspection, but when you put yourself in its path it took you as a threat. What was that spell?"
Thinking quickly Harry shook his head, and lied, "I don't know. It was intent-based magic. I tried to replicate the feelings that the dementor made me feel, and hoped I could fight fire with fire."
.Professor Lupin looked thoughtful at his answer, before frowning, "Well it was nearly successful, but I fear you made it much angrier than I have ever seen a dementor. I have never seen one physically attack even the most violent criminals. They usually rely on their kiss to dispel their opponents."
"What was the spell you used to stop it?" Harry asked, hoping to change the topic.
"The Patronus Charm. It is a tricky piece of magic, but it works." The defense Professor explained.
Nodding in understanding, Harry knew exactly what spell he would begin studying when he returned to Hogwarts. Instead of questioning the man further Harry shook his head, "Thank you for the assistance Professor, but I think I better return to my compartment."
"Yes, I am sure your friends are quite worried about you." Remus said consolingly.
Harry's body tensed up as the words reverberated through his mind, but he remained silent as he began to make his way back down the express train, heading towards the compartment where he had boarded. As he reached out to slide open the door, a faint, high-pitched female scream echoed in his ears, causing him to freeze in his tracks. It was a sound that he had never been able to forget, the final scream of his mother, Lily Potter, echoing in his memory. His heart sank as he pushed himself into the compartment, a single tear streaming down his cheek. The pain was still fresh, the wound still raw, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for the love and protection that he had lost.
.o.
Taking the turn on the boats that led to his first glance at the Hogwarts castle was a moment Harry would never forget. It had been every bit as mystical and magical as he dreamed of, and following behind Hagrid, the half giant, up the stairs to the Great Hall was an experience that had him bursting with excitement.
Despite his cool exterior Harry could not wait to begin studying magic. For years he had been making odd things happen by accident, and now was his chance to truly hone his skills. The other first years had been mumbling about him since they had departed London, and some had even attempted to introduce themselves to the young boy, but each he had given short, cold responses, which led to the growing whispers.
Harry had even ignored the Malfoy boy preaching about teaching him who the better families in the Wizarding World were, which had not made him popular with the blonde boy or his friends. When they all made their way into the hall Harry once again became enthralled by the magic of the castle when he took in the enchanted ceiling.
Name after name was called in the sorting and when his own was finally called the hall had gone eerily silent. For each of the other students mumbles, or murmurs followed, but for Harry it had been still. It was as if the hall had been holding their breaths as he approached the magical hat and took a seat.
"Now aren't you a surprise, young one. I can sense your swirling thoughts and feelings, and my, what ambition you have. The desire to be great, the desire to make your relatives pay for their mistake in overlooking you. Oh you would do well in Slytherin of that there is no doubt." The hat whispered into Harry's ear.
"Put me where I will be the best." Harry pleaded.
"If you want to thrive, then there is truly only one place for you, SLYTHERIN!"
The last word had been announced to the hall, and it was apparent to Harry that the students were surprised. A smattering of applause followed his sorting, and he made his way to the table without a glance behind him. He found a seat that had a few empty spots around it, and sat down in a hurry as the next name was called. He could tell the whispers of his housemates were increasing as he refused to meet their eyes, and he could only hope that he would find a place where he belonged.
.o.
Sitting at the Slytherin table after the sorting that evening felt a lot like his first year at Hogwarts. The whispers were as loud as they had ever been as rumors circulated that he had attempted to combat the dementor with dark magic. Someone from the other compartments must have seen the magic he had attempted to use, but he knew he didn't have a choice. Had his spell not halted the dementor there was no telling what may have happened to him. Harry had only delayed the beast long enough for his new Professor to come to his rescue, something had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
His neck was still throbbing with pain, but he knew Tom would have a remedy for him when he wrote to him later. Harry knew it would be unwise to not tell his mentor about what had occurred on the train. Besides, he may need someone to teach him the Patronus charm, if he was unable to manage it on his own.
"First day back and already being an attention hound, eh Potter?" A drawling voice asked from nearby, causing Harry to twitch in annoyance.
His eyes shifted up to see Draco Malfoy grinning viciously at him, and he just rolled his eyes, "I don't know if you can see my neck, Malfoy, but I assure you I did not want to tangle with the beast."
"Why step out of your compartment then?" A quiet boy in his year, Blaise Zabini, asked.
In many ways, the dark-skinned boy resembled Harry's nature. The teen generally remained solitary, and whispers concerning his mother's past had spread since his initial year. On multiple occasions, the pair had worked together solely out of mutual appreciation for each other's taciturn nature.
Harry's eyes glanced at the teen in surprise as he looked at Blaise Zabini. He couldn't help but notice that he had filled out over the Summer break. While he hadn't grown as much as Harry had, it was clear that the teen had been engaged in some form of athletic activity or had simply experienced a significant growth spurt.
Zabini's once slender frame now had a more muscular build, with broader shoulders and a more defined jawline. The change in his appearance was striking, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if something unnatural had prompted it.
Perhaps Blaise also dabbled in some ritualistic magic. Harry thought with interest. The Zabini family was old after all, and according to what he had overheard from Pansy Parkinson a lot of his family was from the continent where magic was less restrictive and more liberal.
Making a decision to show a bit of honesty to limit the rumors about him losing his mind and attacking the Ministry's guard dog Harry answered, "I thought Sirius Black may have been attacking the train."
This silenced everyone around him and the teen shrugged, "I am sure you all have heard by now what he did to my family. I thought he might have been coming to finish the job. The Ministry does think that's why he escaped."
"How would you know what the Ministry thinks?" Malfoy asked in an obnoxiously loud voice.
"Because like any good Slytherin I read between the lines, Malfoy." Harry answered with a roll of his eyes hoping his lies were convincing, "Besides why do you think the dementors were there in the first place? They were looking for Black, and I am sure Minister Fudge ordered them there to protect me. Believe me, had I known they were patrolling the train, I would've stayed in my compartment like the rest of you."
"So your brilliant plan was to confront Sirius Black? A known Dark Wizard?" Pansy Parkinson asked, from Draco's left.
Shrugging Harry said, "If he was there for me, hiding was not going to do me any favors. I studied some less-than-friendly curses all Summer in case he caught up with me. Hence the magic you keep hearing everyone whispering about."
Looks of understanding seemed to pass through a lot of eavesdroppers' faces. Harry for his part just shrugged, "I may not stand a chance against the man, but he is the reason my parents are dead, if he comes for me, I will make him, and anyone else that stands in my way regret it."
These last words were said in an icy cold tone that indicated he wanted the conversation to be over. Draco had scoffed at the end of his declaration, and Harry could only hope that his words made it back to the Professors, particularly Dumbledore.
Harry believed it would be far more beneficial for Dumbledore to assume he was researching curses as a means of self-defense against Sirius Black rather than the truth. No one could reasonably expect him to cower in fear of the man, and this explanation would also account for his personal growth over the summer. If Dumbledore or Snape were to inquire, he would inform them that he had dedicated most of his time during the summer to studying in preparation for a potential confrontation. While they might disapprove and advise against it, Harry's reasoning was understandable. It was a rationale that he would hold onto for the foreseeable future.
As Harry pushed his food around his plate, feeling a mix of frustration and boredom, he noticed the suspicious eye of Daphne Greengrass. She sat next to a younger girl, who initially appeared to be her twin if not for the subtle age difference. Their shared blue eyes were strikingly similar, yet even with a brief glance, Harry could discern that the younger girl radiated a kinder and gentler disposition in contrast to her ill-tempered sister. While Daphne's face often bore a neutral and aloof expression, this younger girl's features seemed to possess a natural softness.
Curiosity piqued, Harry glanced up and met the girl's gaze, offering her a slight nod before returning to his meal. As he looked back at her, he noticed that she was patiently listening to her little sister and Tracey Davis exchange playful barbs, a gentle smile playing on her lips. Harry couldn't help but shake his head, reflecting on the Slytherin house's tendency to attract a diverse range of first-years this year. He hoped against hope that he wouldn't encounter another overly enthusiastic and inquisitive individual like Colin Creevey within his own house.
.o.
Once Harry had returned to the Slytherin Common room he drew the curtains down with a few flicks of his wand, sat up in his bed, and began his studies for the evening. None of his other professors had confronted him about his encounter with the dementors, but the other students had begun their whispers about his willingness to confront Sirius Black, and the dark magic he had used on the express.
In the dormitory, Harry intently watched his housemates retire to bed and drift off to sleep. Once they were all settled, he retrieved the new notebook gifted to him by Tom. The book's pages were filled with fine, blank parchment. Harry reached for a quill from his nightstand and started inscribing.
'Master' Harry wrote carefully, and then pressed his wand to the nice linen paper and watched his ink vanish.
Time elapsed as Harry let out a sigh, pushing the book away from his legs and resuming his studies by placing a different book onto his lap. Unsure of the duration that passed, he soon felt warmth radiating from his legs and his gaze drifted upwards, catching sight of another word replacing his own on the paper.
'Apprentice.'
Harry read the word and his heart seemed to speed up with exhilaration. He had no idea why he doubted the invention of his master, but the thrill of what he was doing, and what would happen if he were caught made him nearly shake with excitement.
Thinking on what he should write next, he decided to keep it short and sweet.
'I was attacked by a Dementor tonight.'
This time a response came much faster, nearly instant, 'Tell me everything.'
Harry quickly delved into the story, sending him a few phrases at a time to give his mentor something to read. When he was finished he glanced at the lock and realized it was getting much later than he intended. By the time a new message appeared Harry had nearly dozed off.
'You were wise to use the spell you did.
It was created along my path to enslave them to my will.
I will teach you my spell.'
Harry waited for more messages, but none came. For reasons unknown to him he felt compelled to tell Tom what he saw.
'When they attacked me. I saw the memory of Voldemort killing my parents.'
Harry was careful not to accuse the man of killing his Mum and Dad. It may have been true in a sense, but he did his best to avoid those thoughts, especially in his current state. He didn't have to wait long for his next answer.
'Avoid them until then at all cost.'
'They are formidable foes, and will sense the dark magic lingering from your scar, as well as the dark memories you have experienced.'
'They will be drawn to you like a moth to the flame.'
'The dementors will learn to fear my apprentice, as they feared me.'
No further messages had graced the pages of his new book, and with each passing moment, a surge of euphoria washed over him. The thought of making the dementors, those ghastly creatures that fed on happiness, pay for the torment they had inflicted upon him filled him with a fierce determination.
Clutching the diary tightly in his hands, Harry carefully slid it beneath his pillow. A sense of foreboding lingered in his mind, telling him that there would be no more communication from Tom. Memories of his mother's desperate pleas echoed in the back of his mind as he drifted into an uneasy slumber.
The cold, hollow voices of the dementors seemed to whisper to him throughout the night, reminding him of their cruel power. They had forced him to relive some of his most painful experiences, dragging him back to moments of unspeakable horror. The echoes of his mother's voice, filled with anguish and pleading, haunted his dreams.
As dawn approached, Harry awoke with a renewed sense of purpose. The cold echoes of his mother's pleas still lingered in his mind, but they now served as a source of resolve rather than a reminder of his vulnerability. Harry knew that he had to be brave, not just for himself but for all those who had been affected by the dementors' cruelty.
With newfound determination, Harry opened his eyes and focused on the memory of his mother's sacrifice. He drew upon her strength and courage, knowing that she would want him to fight back against those who would attempt to harm him. As the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, Harry's resolve solidified. He would not let the dementors win. Instead, he would make them pay.
(A/N) Harry's first attempt at the Dark Arts was not the best, but watch how he grows this year! If you want to read through Chapter 11 today you can do it for free on my Discord channel, The Hunters Lounge, while also getting an extra free update next week.
If you follow me on Pat(reon) for 1$ at OrionB15 you can read through chapter 15! That's all for today, see you in two weeks!