Harry knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didn't stop him from being angry with her. He had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of her interference, he didn't know whether he would ever see it again.
"Well, her interference was a good thing in the long run. You did need to have the broom checked. And the only reason you'd never see the broom again was if it were jinxed too badly to be salvaged, which is almost impossible," Charlie pointed out.
"The lack of warning or discussion on the topic was the awful bit," Tonks agreed.
He was positive that there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt now.
"Unfortunately you had no way of knowing that," Minerva sighed.
"Harry has been known to sense magic, and his instincts are usually spot on," Fred defended.
"He has also been known to risk life and limb in the name of Quidditch," Arthur reminded his son. "Especially after the first match." Fred grimaced at that, recalling the bludger from the previous year.
He wondered what sort of state it would be in once it had been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests.
"That is a good point. I know that of course, Filius and Minerva are more than competent in their respective fields, but I do feel a specialist should have been brought in," Emmeline said.
"We were confident in our abilities with Madam Hooch consulting. And honestly, we couldn't find a specialist who was free at the required time," Minerva admitted.
Ron was furious with Hermione too. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage.
"Honestly, Ron," Bill chuckled.
"It's better to be safe than sorry," Fred stated.
"It's also not his broom, and he should be glad someone was looking out for Harry's safety " Molly said, narrowing her eyes at her son.
Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Harry and Ron supposed she had taken refuge in the library and didn't try to persuade her to come back.
Several people looked between the trio. They'd had their fights, but this one seemed to be particularly nasty. And, although they had clearly made up before arriving in the room, nobody was entirely sure how.
All in all, they were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again. Wood sought Harry out on the night before term started. He asked if Harry had a good Christmas, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, saying he had been doing some thinking and after the last match, they couldn't afford for him, if the dementors came again, he broke off, looking awkward.
"Poor Oli, I get where he's coming from, but also, it isn't Harry's fault," Charlie grimaced.
"Harry shouldn't be punished for something beyond his control," Fred argued.
"But, as captain, Wood has to do what is best for the whole team, not just his Seeker. It's a tough job, and he has to make the hard calls," Charlie told his brother. "Of course we want Harry to be on the team, as does Oli, but he still has to consider an alternative. Not just for the sake of the team, but for Harry, it isn't good for him to be on a broomstick with the potential to fall from great heights if he passes out again," he shot an apologetic look at Harry who waved it away. Charlie wasn't wrong.
"I guarantee Harry's safety is not what Wood was considering," George snorted. He liked the captain well enough, but concern for his players came a very distant second to winning Quidditch matches.
Harry assured him he was working on it and that Professor Lupin would train him to ward them off which should be starting that week. Wood was relieved, saying he hadn't wanted to lose Harry as seeker.
"Nobody would. Harry is the best," Fred grinned proudly.
Then he asked if Harry had a new broom yet. Harry said no and Wood told him to get a move on as he couldn't ride the Shooting Star against Ravenclaw. Ron told Oliver that he got a Firebolt for Christmas.
"Bad idea, Ronnie," Charlie winced.
"Wood will just get excited when the broom has been confiscated, and it's Harry's news to share, not yours," Bill told him.
Wood asked if he was serious, and Harry told him not to get excited as it had been confiscated. He explained why and Oliver asked how it could be jinxed. Harry said that Sirius Black was after him and may have sent it. Wood waved aside the news that a famous murderer was after his Seeker.
"Of course he ignored that," Charlie chuckled.
"What do you mean 'of course' he just ignored one of the most famous murderers in the world was after his Seeker?" Minerva asked.
"Quidditch means more to Wood than anything. He knew scouts were going to be present both at the Ravenclaw game and the final," George explained. "Winning that cup meant everything to Oliver." Several people frowned in disapproval.
He pointed out that Black couldn't have brought the broom as he's on the run with the whole country looking for him. He could hardly walk into the Quidditch shop and buy a broom.
"Honestly, Owl orders are a thing," Tonks pointed out with an eyeroll.
"I think people also assumed that a man on the run, after twelve years in prison, would be unlikely to have the funds to buy such an expensive thing," Emmeline said.
"Even without the Black money, Uncle Alphard left me enough that was just collecting interest while I was… not using it," Sirius admitted.
Harry said he knew that, but McGonagall wanted to strip it down, causing Wood to go pale. He promised to talk to her and make her see reason.
"He said that?" Percy asked, wide-eyed. He knew Oliver was Quidditch crazy, but not that crazy.
"Bet you loved that," Pomona said to Minerva, chuckling. The Transfiguration professor pursed her lips at the memory.
Classes started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs.
"That sounds like a good, and appropriate lesson for Care of Magical Creatures," Andromeda nodded approvingly.
The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest lifeline she had ever seen.
"Ooh, how surprising," Tonks rolled her eyes.
"It really is disturbing that she is this fixated on the death of a student," Ted frowned.
"The Grim made sense, given Sirius' animagus form, and we know she likes to predict the death of a student to make some sort of impression on new students, but this is kind of ridiculous. Either, she does see Harry's death, warn him and be done with it, or she's making it up and really needs a new gimmick. Dragging it out for a whole year is ridiculous," Bill agreed.
It was Defence Against the Dark Arts that Harry was keen to get to; after his conversation with Wood, he wanted to get started on his anti-dementor lessons as soon as possible. Harry reminded Lupin of his promise, and he suggested eight on Thursday evening for their first lesson in the History of Magic classroom as it should be large enough.
"Why wouldn't your classroom be large enough?" Filius wondered.
"It might have been, but the more space the better," Remus said.
He mused on how he would conduct the lesson, as he couldn't being a real dementor into the castle.
"Why would you need a real dementor? Producing a patronus on its own is advanced enough, let along trying to take on a dementor in his first lesson," Amelia said worriedly.
"Because being able to produce a patronus in the safety of a classroom won't give any indication of whether Harry would be able to hold the spell against a dementor, which was the point of the lesson. He wasn't having lessons just to learn the theory, or for advanced lessons, he was having them because the dementors were affecting him so badly," Remus pointed out.
"A boggart then. Harry's worst fear is a dementor, and it will give the same effect without having to face a real one," Charlie suggested.
"That's a brilliant idea," Tonks said, looking at her friend in surprise.
"That's all well and good, but should he really be facing them in his first lesson?" Kingsley wondered. "Not that I doubt your teaching skills, Remus, but that does seem quite optimistic."
"I certainly didn't make him face anything in his first attempt, but you'll hear how the lesson played out," Remus told them. It wasn't a lie, Harry didn't face the boggart until he produced at least a wisp of a patronus.
As they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner, Ron commented that he still looked ill and asked Harry what he thought the matter with him was. There was a loud and impatient "tut" from behind them. It was Hermione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armour, repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close.
"Did nobody show you an extension charm, or at least one to make your bag lighter?" George asked in exasperation. At the start of the year, he could understand nobody having shown her, but after watching her struggle for the whole year, how hadn't any older Gryffindor noticed? Including him. Hermione shook her head.
"Well, if you get a new bag this summer, make sure you get one with the charms already on it. If not, I'll show you how to apply them," he offered.
"Thanks," she smiled shyly.
Ron asked what she was tutting at them for and she replied nothing. Ron argued that she had right after he'd asked about Lupin. With a superior looks, Hermione said it was obvious.
"Only if you cared to look into it, which most people don't. Most students wouldn't bother with why a professor was ill," Bill shrugged.
"Or if another professor tries his hardest to let the information slip," Emmeline put in with a glare in Severus' direction.
"But neither of the boys did that homework, so it wasn't obvious to them," Charlie said with a slight grin.
Ron said that if she didn't want to tell them, then don't and she said fine before marching off. Ron stared resentfully after her, saying she doesn't know, she was just trying to get them to talk to her again.
"Honestly, Ron, you really should know better. Hermione wouldn't pretend to know something she didn't," Tonks said. Though, privately, she did agree that Hermione was likely showing off her knowledge in an attempt to get the boys to talk to her. And she probably couldn't help herself.
At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, Harry left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when he arrived, but he lit the lamps with his wand and had waited only five minutes when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binns' desk. Harry asked what that was and Lupin told him it was a boggart.
Charlie grinned.
He continued that he'd been combing the castle since Tuesday and found one in Filch's filing cabinet
"Should have left it," Fred muttered.
"I'm surprised you had to look so hard for it and Filch didn't yell about it to the whole castle," George said mildly.
It would be the closest they could get to a real dementor. The boggart would become a dementor when he saw Harry and they could store him in Lupin's office when not using him. Harry agreed, trying to sound glad Lupin had found a good substitute instead of apprehensive.
"It's perfectly fine to be nervous. Nobody looks forward to constantly facing their worst fear," Remus told him.
Professor Lupin took out his own wand and indicated that Harry should do the same. He said that the spell he was going to try and teach was highly advanced magic, beyond OWLs, and called the Patronus Charm.
"It's beyond NEWT level as well," Percy told him. "It's only mentioned briefly in Defence and in Care of Magical Creatures when you learn about Lethifolds, but you don't learn it."
"It's part of Auror training," Tonks said.
Harry asked how it worked, and Lupin told him that, when it worked correctly, it conjured a Patronus which was a sort of a guardian that acted as a shield between Harry and the dementor. Harry had a sudden vision of himself crouching behind a Hagrid-sized figure holding a large club.
A few people chuckled at that. Harry smiled, thinking of his patronus. His father.
Professor Lupin continued that the Patronus was a kind of positive force, a projection of hope, happiness and everything the dementor feeds upon. As the projection cannot feel despair, the dementors cannot hurt it. He warned Harry it may be too advanced for him as many qualified wizards struggled with it.
"Learning the spell isn't too bad, producing one with a dementor around is definitely tricky," Tonks noted. And she didn't feel half as badly around dementors as Harry did.
"Most people only produce an indistinct patronus though. Producing a corporeal patronus is incredibly difficult," Amelia out it.
"An indistinct one doesn't help all that much though. It definitely doesn't fight off a dementor like a corporeal one does," Bill argued.
"But even an indistinct one will give a small amount of protection, hopefully allowing Harry to not fall off his broom or faint," Charlie said.
Harry asked what a patronus looked like and Lupin told him each one was unique to the wizard who conjured it. Harry asked how to conjure it and Lupin said with an incantation that only worked if you were concentrating on a single, very happy, memory.
Harry pulled a face as several people glanced over at him, with both worry and curiosity.
Harry cast his mind about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing that had happened to him at the Dursleys' was going to do.
Everyone scowled. Sirius tightened his arm around Harry's shoulders. Because he'd been reckless, because he'd wanted revenge, and had trusted Dumbledore to protect Harry, his godson had grown up without a single happy memory. Ten years of his life with basically no happy memories. Worse, Sirius knew how he felt. He had almost no happy memories of his time before Hogwarts. And the few he did have were on his brother, which were now tainted with grief.
Finally, he settled on the moment when he had first ridden a broomstick.
Those in the room who could produce a patronus, shook their heads.
"That, most likely, won't be powerful enough," Andromeda stated sadly.
Everyone else grimaced, sad that it had taken several weeks into his first year of Hogwarts, before Harry could think of a happy memory. And even then, one he considered one of his happiest was riding a broomstick. Something the vast majority of them took for granted and, though they loved it, would never consider it as their happiest.
Lupin told him the incantation, which Harry repeated. Lupin reminded him to focus on his happy memory and Harry thought back to riding his broom, repeating the spell at the same time and something like silvery gas whooshed from his wand.
"Nice. First time," Tonks whistled, looking impressed.
"It disappeared pretty much instantly," Harry shrugged.
"It's still an achievement, Potter. You pick up new spells quickly," Moody grunted.
Harry asked if he saw that and Lupin told him it was very good, before asking if he was ready to try it on a dementor.
"After one attempt with the spell?" Sirius asked, worriedly.
"Harry learns better through application. I could have spent all night making him try and cast the spell over and over again with no boggart, but he wouldn't have gained much," Remus told him.
Harry agreed, gripping his wand tightly. He tried to keep his mind on flying, but something else kept intruding. Any second now, he might hear his mother again. However, he shouldn't think that, or he would hear her again, and he didn't want to - or did he?
Everyone fell completely silent at that. Harry pulled a face and burrowed back against Sirius who tightened his arm around his shoulders in a squeeze of comfort. There were several uncomfortable seconds of silence before Molly continued reading at Arthur's urging.
Lupin grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled. A dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him. Harry yelled the incantation multiple times, but the classroom began to dissolve, and Harry felt like he was falling, Lily's voice echoing inside his head, saying she would do anything while Voldemort told her to stand aside.
Molly's voice trembled as everyone listened sombrely, not knowing what to do or say.
Harry jerked back to life. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again. He didn't have to ask what had happened. He apologised, and Lupin asked if he was alright.
"You had nothing to apologise for," Remus told him, his voice breaking ever so slightly.
Harry agreed, pulling himself up and leaning against a desk. Lupin handed him a chocolate frog, telling him to eat it before they tried again. He hadn't expected Harry to do it on his first time, he would have been astounded if he had. Harry admitted it was getting worse. and he could hear his mother louder alongside Voldemort. Lupin looked paler than usual.
"Sorry, I didn't… You probably didn't want to hear that," Harry muttered, now knowing Remus had been close friends with his parents.
"You didn't know. Had no way of knowing," Remus waved aside the apology. And, as horrible as it had been, hearing Harry say it, hearing it now was far worse. Then, he'd mostly been concerned for Harry, having to hear his parent's last moments over and over again, in an attempt to protect himself. It was awful all round and he admired Harry's mental strength while hating that it was necessary.
Lupin said he would understand if Harry didn't want to continue, but Harry said he did, asking what would happen if dementors turned up at their match against Ravenclaw. He couldn't afford to fall off again, as they would lose the cup.
Several people rolled their eyes, if only half-heartedly. Given how he reacted to dementors, this was a skill Harry really needed, and whatever gave him the resolve to get through it could only be a good thing – even if it was Quidditch.
Lupin agreed, suggesting he select a different memory as that one didn't appear strong enough. Harry thought about it and settled on winning the House Championship and the end of the previous year.
"Slightly better," Andromeda nodded. Emotions ran high at the end of year feast, especially in Harry's previous year.
He gripped his wand tightly again and took up his position in the middle of the classroom. Lupin asked if he was ready, and Harry agreed. He tried to concentrate on the happy memory rather than what would happen when the box opened. When Lupin pulled off the lid, the room became cold and icy once more. The dementor glided forward, drawing its breath; one rotting hand was extending toward Harry, who cast the spell, but fog obscured his vision. He heard a new, male voice, yelling for Lily to take Harry and run.
Sirius and Remus both went stark white.
"James," Emmeline whispered, looking horrified.
"That's never happened before. Harry was certainly correct about it getting worse," Bill muttered to himself.
Everyone glanced around anxiously, wondering if Harry was going to end up hearing the whole night of his parents' murder. Arthur took the book from his wife who was sobbing quietly, her heart breaking for Harry.
The male voice continued that it was him, he would hold him off while Lily ran.
Sirius made a choked noise, but Arthur hurried on while everyone else remained in horrified silence.
There were the sounds of someone stumbling from a room, a door bursting open, and a cackle of high-pitched laughter.
Several people shuddered.
Someone called Harry's name. Lupin was tapping Harry hard on the face. This time it was a minute before Harry understood why he was lying on a dusty classroom floor. He admitted he'd heard his dad's voice for the first time. James had tried to take on Voldemort himself to give Lily time to run.
"Of course he did, that boy!" Minerva sniffled. "He would never have done anything else."
Everyone else looked around the room awkwardly. Much of the readings had been an invasion of Harry's privacy, but it had also been important or useful enough that they could overlook it and still feel good within themselves. Hearing this… almost everyone thought that this was crossing some sort of line. Yet nobody was quite willing to be the one to suggest they stop. Or skip forwards. Instead, they all just waited, hoping it would be over soon.
Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn't see.
Harry grimaced, realising that Remus had almost definitely seen.
Lupin asked if he heard James, sounding strange. Harry said yes, asking if Lupin knew his dad and Lupin agreed, saying they were friends at Hogwarts.
Harry made to apologise again, but Remus waved a hand before he could even open his mouth.
Lupin suggested they leave it for the night as the charm was ridiculously advanced. Harry rejected the idea, saying he wasn't thinking of happy enough things. He racked his brains for a truly happy memory, and settled on first finding out he was a wizard and could leave the Dursley's for Hogwarts.
Dumbledore startled slightly at that while everyone else pulled various faces of sadness and horror.
If that wasn't a happy memory, he didn't know what was.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried. He frowned at her, confused.
"What?"
"The happiest memory you could think of, was leaving your relatives?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, you've heard about them," he shrugged awkwardly, unsure why this was such a big deal.
"Honestly, Gred, we've not been trying hard enough. None of young Harry's happiest memories contain us!" George declared loudly, with a fake pout, trying to direct some of the attention from Harry.
"I hear that. It's quite offensive really. We are truly awesome and have spent many a time trying to cheer Harry up. He clearly does not appreciate our attempts properly," Fred agreed, forcing a grin onto his face.
Harry snorted and shot them both a grateful look. "Your attempts at cheer must have been not that great," he told them with a smirk. They both gasped dramatically, feigning offence.
"I think I must be hearing a challenge," George said, narrowing his eyes at Harry.
"Most definitely," Fred agreed. "You will be cheered up, whether you like it or not." Harry laughed and Fred tried not to feel too smug about it.
He concentrated very hard on how he had felt when he'd realized he'd be leaving Privet Drive.
"And coming to the Burrow!" Fred added.
"To see us!" George put in.
"I was trying to think of happy memories," Harry shot back with a grin. Fred put his hand over his heart and dramatically fell back like he'd been stabbed. Then he winked at Harry as Arthur continued reading over their antics.
He got to his feet and faced the packing case once more. Lupin asked if he was ready, looking as if it were against his better judgement, and then called 'go'. He pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the dementor rose out of it; the room felt cold and dark. Harry bellowed the incantation three times before the screaming started, but this time it was muted, like it was coming from a badly tuned radio.
Everyone perked up in anticipation.
He could still see the dementor, which had halted, and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry's wand, to hover between him and the dementor, and though Harry's legs felt like water, he was still on his feet. Though for how much longer, he wasn't sure.
"You did it," breathed Amelia. "You actually performed a patronus charm on what, your third attempt?"
"Good job, Potter," Moody praised. Harry flushed.
Lupin came forward and roared out 'Riddikulus', causing the boggart, and patronus, to vanish. Harry sank into a chair, feeling exhausted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor Lupin forcing the boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb again. He said that was excellent. Harry asked for one more go which Lupin denied him.
"Definitely enough for one night," Andromeda nodded.
"Yes. You need to rest after that. I don't think anyone your age has done what you did in one lesson, especially one that was only three attempts long and against a dementor," Kingsley agreed.
Instead, he handed Harry a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate, telling him to eat the lot of Madam Pomfrey would be after his blood.
A few people chuckled at that, while Andromeda nodded approvingly.
Harry agreed, and he took a bite of the chocolate, watching Lupin extinguish the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the dementor. A thought occurred to him. He said that as Lupin had known his dad, he must have known Sirius too.
Remus grimaced momentarily at his own reaction. Especially in front of Harry.
"Way to spring such a delicate topic on someone," Fred teased.
"Harry's clearly been spending too much time with Ronnie," George smirked. "And without Hermione as the voice of reason and tact," he added with a wink in said witch's direction.
Lupin turned very quickly. He asked what gave Harry that idea and Harry replied that he knew they were friends at Hogwarts, which caused Lupin to relax. He agreed that he had known him, or thought he did, before telling Harry he'd better be off.
Now Sirius pulled a face. But then, he'd thought the same about Remus for a period.
Harry left the classroom, walking along the corridor and around a corner, then took a detour behind a suit of armour and sank down on its plinth to finish his chocolate, wishing he hadn't mentioned Black, as Lupin was obviously not keen on the subject.
"Really? He wasn't keen on the subject of someone he knew being a supposed mass murderer? Who could have guessed?" Tonks chuckled. Harry shot her a glare.
"He did pass out a few times, maybe he hit his head and had his sense knocked out of him?" Suggested Charlie with a grin. His grin widened when Harry turned his glare onto him.
"What would you know about sense?" Bill asked his brother dryly.
"He knows plenty about it having knocked out of him," Percy put in. All of his siblings stared at him in shock for long enough that Percy started to turn pink. Then Fred and George burst out laughing and both got up theatrically shaking Percy's hand.
"You are our brother!" Fred declared.
"Knew there must be some humour in there somewhere," George said taking his turn to shake Percy's hand. Eventually Percy shooed them back to their seats.
Then Harry's thoughts wandered back to his mother and father.
The good mood evaporated almost instantaneously.
He felt drained and strangely empty, even though he was so full of chocolate. Terrible though it was to hear his parents' last moments replayed inside his head, these were the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child.
Everyone shifted uncomfortably at that realisation. It was like the Mirror of Erised all over again, realising that Harry didn't even know what his parents looked like. Except this was worse. The mirror, while dangerous, had at least shown him his family and didn't make him pass out staring at it. It also seemingly showed them, as if in a photograph. Whereas this, the dementors, he was hearing their last moments. Hearing how they had died.
But he'd never be able to produce a proper Patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again. He told himself they were dead and that listening to echoes of them wouldn't bring them back.
"You were being too hard on yourself. It is completely understandable to want to hear that," Ted told him.
"But he was also right. It was too dangerous, given the source, and would not bring them back," Andromeda said grimly
He should get a grip if he wanted that Quidditch cup. He stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into his mouth, and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week.
"Five?" Bill frowned. "Wasn't it his NEWT year? How did he cope with that much time spent on Quidditch practise?"
"Wood didn't care about NEWTs. He cared about winning the cup," Fred told his brother.
"Even if he didn't care about his own exams, it was your OWL year, and two of his chasers. Five out of the seven members of his team had highly important exams that year, including himself, five nights a week spent on practise is ridiculous," Charlie pointed out. Not even he was that Quidditch mad. As captain, it was his task to balance training with the needs of the team, although Oliver had already proven dubious when it came to their health, so their exams were probably even lower on his list of priorities.
This meant that with Lupin's anti-dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, Harry had just one night a week to do all his homework.
"Wow. That's… not much time. Even if you didn't have much homework," Tonks winced.
"It certainly explains a lot. I am impressed with how well you did over the year, considering every that you had going on," Minerva told Harry proudly. Filius and Pomona both nodded in agreement.
Even so, he wasn't showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her.
Hermione winced.
Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted.
"She was worse than Percy," George said with a concerned frown. They had tried a couple of pranks to try and lighten her up and get her to take some time away from books, but after she'd snapped at them twice and reported them to Percy, they stopped trying. He knew they didn't always show it, but they did love their siblings and try to look out for them and their friends when possible. Even Percy's, or they would of, if he had many friends.
Several people whistled in astonishment at that statement and shot Hermione their own looks of concern. Even though she had told them she had given up a couple of subjects, many people wondered just how much of a toll it had taken on her before she gave in.
One evening, Ron wondered how she was doing it as Harry worked on an essay for Snape. He looked up to see Hermione, barely visible, behind a tottering pile of books. He asked how she was doing what and Ron replied how she was getting to all her classes. He had heard her talking to Professor Vector that morning, talking about yesterday's lesson, which Hermione couldn't have attended as she was in Care of Magical Creatures with them.
"Maybe they were just going over what had been covered in the lesson?" Tonks suggested dubiously.
"No, it definitely sounded like she had been in the lesson," Neville stated, having also overheard.
Amelia pursed her lips. She was certain a time turner was in use. It was the only feasible explanation and she could not for the life of her, understand why a thirteen-year-old girl had been given such a thing just to attend extra lessons. For one, no other student had been given such an opportunity, and for another she was not emotionally or physically mature enough.
Using the time turner to attend extra lessons every single day, which would age her faster than her peers, especially if she had used it for an entire school year. But there was also the consequences if she hadn't been using it to get extra sleep. If she attended the extra lessons, but never used the extra time for her homework or sleep, then it was no wonder she became so overwhelmed with the workload.
Minerva felt guilty. She should have kept a closer eye on Miss Granger. She had had several meetings with her charge throughout the year, especially during this period, though she hadn't realised the fight was this bad, but each time Hermione had assured her she was coping. And while Minerva hadn't fully believed her, she also hadn't stopped her. She had expressed her concerns to Albus at the start of the year but, as ever, she had been pulled to his way of thinking. And that was that. Now she knew better. She knew Albus, her mentor, was not as infallible as she had thought. He did not always have the best sight of what was best. He was an incredibly powerful wizard, and a good man, of that she remained sure, but he was also still human. Something she thought needed remembering a little more often.
Ernie McMillan had also told him that she had never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them were at the same time as Divination, which she had never missed one of either. Harry didn't have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione's impossible schedule at the moment; he really needed to get on with Snape's essay. Two seconds later, however, he was interrupted again, this time by Wood.
"I should have known better. Wood was seemingly possessed that year. He was trying to talk to me all the time," Harry sighed. "I should have gone to the dormitory."
"It's a nightmare trying to write essays in there though," Neville pointed out.
"So is trying to write with Wood in the vicinity that year," Harry said dryly.
Wood said he had bad news. He'd been to see McGonagall about the Firebolt, and she'd gotten a bit shirty with him and told him he had his priorities wrong.
"I'm sure Professor McGonagall was probably right," Percy rolled his eyes.
She seemed to think he cared more about winning the Cup than he did about Harry staying alive, just because he told her he didn't care if it threw him off, as long as he caught the Snitch first.
"He said what?" Several people yelled at once.
"I'm sure Oliver didn't actually mean it," Charlie defended, but it was half-hearted at best.
"Based on everything else we've heard, I'm sure he did," Percy frowned.
"You said he has now graduated, yes?" Sirius asked Harry. He nodded. "Good. He should not be a captain."
"I can't believe he said that to a professor," Tonks shook her head.
Wood shook his head in disbelief. He continued that, the way she'd been yelling at him, you'd have thought he said something terrible.
"He genuinely didn't understand that what he said was unacceptable?" Ted frowned.
"It's Oliver," Harry shrugged.
"That does mean he should think it's fine for you to be thrown from your broomstick as long as you catch the snitch. A game is not worth your health," Remus explained patiently.
Then he asked her how much longer she was going to keep it. He did an imitation of McGonagall saying she would keep it as long as necessary. He suggested Harry order a new broom and that he could get a Nimbus 2001. Harry stated he wasn't buying anything Malfoy thought was good.
"While normally I'd say that's for the best, given his taste, but that's definitely not a bad broom," Fred pointed out. Draco narrowed his eyes, unsure if he'd just been insulted or not.
"But he had a broom. No point buying another when he owned the best," Sirius said.
"Yes, but Harry had no way of knowing for certain he would get the Firebolt back at that point," Emmeline reminded him. Sirius pouted.
January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. He was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson with Ron at his shoulder and Hermione rushing from the room.
"Every lesson?" Tonks asked with a grin.
"That must have been fun," Filius smirked at Minerva. She glared at him.
McGonagall told him he couldn't have it back yet, before he'd even opened his mouth after the twelfth time he asked.
Several people chuckled, impressed with her patience.
She told him they'd checked for most of the usual curses, but Flitwick thought it may be carrying a Hurling Hex.
Minerva shot Filius another glare. While most of his suggestions had been valid, she knew very well that by this point he'd just been stalling in an attempt to keep the broom until after the Ravenclaw game. Not only had he tried to sabotage he team, he'd also meant she'd had to endure Potter and Weasley's relentless pestering.
He caught the look and smiled serenely at her.
She promised to tell him once they'd finished checking it and asked him to stop badgering her.
"It sucks on all sides there. I don't blame Harry for desperately wanting it back, but they also have to be both careful and thorough," Kingsley said thoughtfully.
To make matters even worse, Harry's anti-dementor lessons were not going nearly as well as he had hoped. Several sessions on, he was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the boggart-dementor approached him, but his Patronus was too feeble to drive the dementor away.
"That's still a highly impressive achievement given your age," Amelia told him.
"Especially considering... everything else," Emmeline added.
All it did was hover, like a semi-transparent cloud, draining Harry of energy as he fought to keep it there. Harry felt angry with himself, guilty about his secret desire to hear his parents' voices again.
Most people grimaced at that.
Lupin told him he was expecting too much from himself as, for a thirteen-year-old, even an indistinct Patronus was a huge achievement.
There were several nods of agreement.
He pointed out that Harry wasn't passing out anymore. Harry said he thought the patronus would charge the dementors down and Lupin agreed that a true Patronus did do that, however Harry had achieved a great deal in a short space of time.
"It's better than no protection at all, and should mean you can get yourself to the ground. That's a heck of a lot better than the first game," Bill reminded him.
Lupin said that if the dementors put in an appearance at his next Quidditch match, he will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground. Harry pointed out that Lupin said it was harder with more of them, but Lupin stated he had complete confidence in him.
"Did you really?" Asked Harry.
Remus looked at him for a few moments before responding. "I had complete confidence that you could hold them off until help arrived during a game," he stated. "I didn't think you could hold off over a hundred by yourself." Harry nodded. That was fair.
"Although, it's hardly a case of help arriving during a Quidditch game, it's a case of finding a member of staff actually willing to bother helping. I recall hearing about plenty of staff members at Harry's games in all three years at Hogwarts and only Severus has actually tried to help. And Albus eventually got around to slowing his fall during the Hufflepuff match," Emmeline pointed out.
Lupin told him he'd earnt a drink, saying he wouldn't have tried it before and producing two bottles from his briefcase. Harry exclaimed it was Butterbeer and that he liked it. Lupin raised his eyebrows, and Harry quickly lied that Ron and Hermione had brought him some back from Hogsmeade.
"We also bring butterbeer to all the Gryffindor parties," George pointed out, looking amused.
"That's a good point. How did you avoid butterbeer until sneaking into Hogwarts as a Gryffindor?" Charlie wondered.
"Ron taught me never to accept food and drink from the twins, so I usually just stuck to pumpkin juice that appeared directly from the kitchens," Harry explained.
Both twins pretended to be offended by this, but they were both grinning.
Lupin was still slightly suspicious but suggested a toast to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw, though he wasn't supposed to take sides as a teacher.
"Teacher's take sides all the time," Ted snorted.
"The heads of house are different. The rest of us weren't supposed to take sides," Remus said, though he was grinning.
They drank the butterbeer in silence, until Harry voiced something he'd been wondering for a while. He asked what was under a dementor's hood.
"Nothing pleasant," Tonks shuddered.
Lupin looked thoughtful, saying that the only people who really knew weren't in a position to tell them.
Everyone grimaced at the truth in that statement.
He stated that the dementor only lowered it's hood to use it's worst weapon. Harry asked what that was and Lupin told him it was called the Dementor's Kiss.
"Which is a gross name. Who wants to kiss a dementor?" Tonks said, looking grossed out.
"It's not something you're actually supposed to want," Charlie reminded her.
It was what happened when dementors wished to destroy their prey completely as they clamp their jaws on the mouth of the victim and suck out their soul.
Sirius shuddered violently.
Harry accidentally spat out a bit of butterbeer. He asked if they kill, and Remus told him it was worse than that. You can exist without you soul, as long as your brain and heart still worked, but with no sense of self, no memory or anything. There was no chance of recovery.
Everyone shuddered that time.
"That's awful," Hermione whispered. "What happens to someone once they've been kissed?"
"If the shock doesn't kill them, then they usually die within a couple of days in Azkaban," Moody told her.
"Have they kissed anyone... outside of Azkaban?"
"Gone rogue, you mean? Yes. Those victims are usually taken to St Mungo's," said Andromeda quietly.
Lupin continued that you would be an empty shell with your soul forever lost. He stated it was the fate that awaited Black.
Sirius flinched and Remus reached out to squeeze his hand. He couldn't believe how casually he had managed to say such a thing.
It had been announced in the paper that morning, as the Ministry had given the dementors permission to administer it if they found him. Harry sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then he thought of Black and stated he deserved it.
Sirius let out a quiet whimper, unable to help it as his heart broke at those words. Harry winced and leant into his godfather's side. There wasn't much he could say that would help. Sirius knew he didn't mean it now, but that didn't stop it hurting.
Lupin asked if he thought so, if he thought anyone deserved that. Harry agreed he did, for some things. He would have liked to have told Lupin about the conversation he'd overheard about Black in the Three Broomsticks, about Black betraying his mother and father, but it would have involved revealing that he'd gone to Hogsmeade without permission, and he knew Lupin wouldn't be very impressed by that.
"Certainly not," Remus sighed.
"Really?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.
"Really. I don't think encouraging him to sneak off the grounds while someone supposedly wanted to kill him would be a good idea," Remus pointed out.
He finished his butterbeer, thanked Lupin, and left the History of Magic classroom. Harry half wished that he hadn't asked what was under a dementor's hood, the answer had been so horrible.
"I mean, you can't have thought it would be anything nice, given what dementors are and what they do," said George.
"Maybe not nice, but I didn't think it would be that awful either," Harry admitted.
He was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that he walked headlong into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs.
"Oops," Tonks winced.
She told him to watch where he was going. He apologised, but she said she'd been looking for him and here it was, they had done everything they could think of and there was nothing wrong with it. He had a very good friend out there somewhere.
"You got the Firebolt back!" Charlie exclaimed, delightedly. Harry grinned.
"Just in time too," Fred smirked at his head of house. "Convenient."
Harry's jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever. He asked if he could have it back and she agreed. She stated that he would need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match.
"That's, what, two days away? Definitely convenient," Charlie grinned.
"I have it back to Mr. Potter as soon as it was ready, no sooner and no later," Minerva stated grimly.
"And it was all still fine?" Sirius checked.
"It was perfect," beamed Harry.
She told him to try and win as they would be out of the running for the eighth year straight, as Snape had reminded her last night.
"What? They weren't out of the running the year before, the tournament got cancelled," Charlie argued.
"I think the point was they hadn't won it for nine years," Bill told hi brother, rolling his eyes.
Harry was speechless as he carried the Firebolt back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower. As he turned a corner, he saw Ron dashing toward him, grinning from ear to ear. He asked if McGonagall had given it to him and said it was excellent, before asking if he could still have a go.
A couple of people rolled their eyes, but all the Quidditch fans were envious.
Harry agreed, his heart lighter than it had been in a month. He suggested they make up with Hermione as she was only trying to help.
"Just figured that out, had you?" Tonks asked.
"Well, no. I was angry for a while, but I wasn't by then. I got why she did it, even if I didn't like it. I just figured getting the broom back would soften Ron up enough to repair their friendship too," admitted Harry. It had almost worked too. Bloody rat.
Ron agreed, saying she was in the common room. They turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville Longbottom, pleading with Sir Cadogan, saying he had written them down and must have dropped them.
Neville flinched. He still didn't know what had happened and how he had lost those passwords.
Cadogan roared that this was a likely tale. Spotting Ron and Harry, he said it was fine evening and Ron told him to shut up. Neville told them he'd lost the passwords, he'd made Cadogan give him the passwords he was going to use that week and now they were lost.
"Lost? You lost the password to the Gryffindor common room with Sirius on the loose and able to break into the castle?" Tonks asked in exasperation.
"I thought I'd left them in the dormitory, but they weren't there either. I don't know what happened," Neville muttered.
"Could an older student not have tried summoning them?" Charlie wondered.
"I didn't think to ask," Neville admitted. "But I've never been good at remembering passwords and he changed them so often I couldn't keep up." Minerva pursed her lips.
Harry gave the password to Sir Cadogan, who look extremely disappointed, and they entered the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry was surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt.
"Constant vigilance!" Moody barked.
After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Harry and Ron had a clear view of Hermione, the only person who hadn't rushed over to them, bent over her work and carefully avoiding their eyes. Harry and Ron approached her table and at last, she looked up.
"Sorry it took so long," Harry said. He didn't add that it was a shame it had lasted all of two minutes.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before going to Professor McGonagall," she replied.
Harry told her he'd gotten it back. Ron stated there was nothing wrong with it and she defended that there might have been. At least they knew it was safe, and Harry agreed.
"Definitely always worth taking the precaution," Amelia nodded. Certainly, nobody argued with Hermione's reasons, it was just her method that needed some work.
He said he'd better put it upstairs. Ron said he would take it as he had to give Scabbers his tonic. He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase. Harry asked if he could sit down and Hermione agreed, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.
"I'm surprised you were able to take up that much space. Normally someone would have complained by then," Neville said.
"I think they were all too afraid of Hermione," George grinned.
"What?" She frowned.
"You are quite scary when you want to be," Ginny told her with a grin eerily similar to George's.
"No I'm not," Hermione scoffed. Draco coughed a little, but would never admit out loud that she was a little scary. Especially given she'd punched him once already.
Harry looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay about electricity, and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over. He asked how she was getting through everything, and she replied that she was working hard. Close-up, Harry saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin.
Remus grimaced while most others looked concerned.
He asked why she didn't drop a couple of subjects, and she stated that she couldn't, looking scandalised. Harry stated that Arithmancy looked terrible.
Harry blushed at his judgement of a subject he'd known nothing about. Having looked a little more closely, he loved Arithmancy and totally understood why Hermione had told him it was her favourite.
"I'Il remember that," teased Bill.
"I didn't know any better," Harry shrugged.
She told him it was wonderful and her favourite subject. But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, Harry never found out.
Harry sighed.
"What now?" Tonks groaned.
At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder, and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet.
"A bedsheet? What?" Bill frowned in confusion.
"Nothing good," Charlie grimaced.
"That much is obvious. I'm guessing it's something to do with Scabbers," said Tonks grimly.
He yelled for them to look. He yelled again, shaking the bedsheets in Hermione's face. She asked what, but he cut her off, yelling Scabbers' name and telling her to look.
Everyone grimaced. They could all guess what was coming.
Hermione leant away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Harry looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like blood.
"Maybe he just bit himself," Percy suggested. He hadn't been on the common room at the time, but of course he'd heard what had happened.
Ron screamed that it was blood. Scabbers was gone and he asked if she knew what was on the floor. Hermione denied it and he threw something on her rune translation. Hermione and Harry leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.
"Oh dear," Pomona muttered.
"That's the end of the chapter," Molly announced shakily.
"Poor Scabbers," Charlie frowned.
"This could all have been avoided if that cat had been properly monitored," Bill said unhappily.
"It'll explain later, but Scabbers was fine. Just hiding," Ron told them.
"What? Why would he do that?" Percy frowned. "And where is he now then?"
"You'll see?" Ron offered weakly.
"I assumed it's something linked with how the rat is alive even after all that time," Amelia said dryly.
Ron said nothing. He supposed it wouldn't harm anything if he told the rest of the room the truth about Scabbers. Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius and the twins all already knew for definite. They had been operating under a 'as few spoilers as possible' rule so far, mostly because they didn't much want to get yelled at twice for things that had already happened. But it was also a little funny, watching everyone going crazy trying to figure out what happened.
"Well, it's time for dinner and I'm starving," Bill stated. He figured he'd get his answers the following day and it was no good moaning about it until then. As long as Ron wasn't upset by whatever had been going on with Scabbers, that was the main thing.
Several people nodded agreement and Molly bustled into the kitchen to start making food.
