They Shook Hands: Year Three (Original Version)

They Shook Hands : Year Three

An alternate (but realistic!) universe Harry Potter fic
by Dethryl

Chapter Six - The Dementor

Seven Slytherins could not fit very comfortably into a single compartment, but somehow they did it anyway. There was no room, needless to say, for Crabbe and Goyle. The two boys rode the train in a second compartment where they had all stacked their trunks.

"Get down, Argent," Blaise said with exasperation, moving her black and grey cat off the seat for the third time.

"You don't give him enough attention," Millie reprimanded her.

Blaise coughed politely. "You have no idea how much love this cat gets. He is spoiled rotten at home. He's just having withdrawal."

Tim's voice echoed out from the overhead compartment. "Onyx does the same thing." He finally extricated his head and arms and brought out his deck of cards. "Onyx, move."

His black cat raised her head and blinked at him. With a yawn and a stretch, she half-rolled, exposing her chin, and looked up at him shamelessly.

"Cats!" Tim exclaimed. He set the cards on the edge of the seat and picked up his familiar, depositing her gently on the floor. But before Tim could even pick up his cards, she had twisted, turned, and jumped back up into the seat!

Harry laughed. "She's a nut!"

"She thinks it's her seat. She thinks everything belongs to her. When I brought my books home after Diagon Alley, she jumped right into the empty bag!"

"They do that," Blaise nodded.

"She didn't play for the longest time, though, just sat there looking at me as if to say, 'Thank you! Thank you for buying me a bag! I'm so happy!'"

Everyone snickered. "Nuts," Harry reiterated.

"We're getting rather close to school," Jenna noted as the conversation lulled. "We ought to think about getting dressed."

"But I would look horrible in a dress," Draco teased her.

Jenna put her hand on his arm and shoved him playfully. "You prat. If you want to go up to school wearing that God-awful outfit, be my guest. I, on the other hand, much prefer my robes."

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Draco demanded.

"What isn't wrong with those clothes?" Jenna stood up and put her hand on the compartment door. "Let's go, girls. Give Harry his privacy."

"No, stay."

Harry's words startled them all. In the past, he had always been thoroughly embarrassed to change with the girls present. Not any more. He rose to his feet and tugged his windbreaker over his head.

"I'm not a Muggle," he said, "and I refuse to act like one any more. I can be just like the rest of you."

"Capital!" Jenna enthused. "Get naked then!"

Now that did start Harry's ears burning, and Jenna giggled wickedly.

"Jenna, did you have to say that?" Blaise asked. "Leave Harry alone."

"I'm just teasing him. Sorry, Harry."

Harry swallowed hard, forcing his blush down. He resolutely removed the next article of clothing.

"Somebody was working out this summer," Jenna said in a loud whisper.

"Jenna!"

"What? He's hunky! Look at that chest!"

Harry made himself grin. This was the same banter that he and Jenna always shared; it was no different in spirit. "I did a lot of push-ups when the Muggles had me locked up. I had to pass the time somehow."

Jenna's smile vanished as her lips twisted into a snarl. "They're just lucky I didn't get a chance to hex them," she announced. "The Magic Reversal Squad would never have found them."

"I'm putting it behind me," Harry told them. "Wild dragons couldn't get me to set one foot back on Privet Drive."

"That's healthy," Pansy said before pulling her blue dress over her head.

"I'm a wizard, and I only want to be with other wizards. And witches," he added after a moment.

"Well that's a relief," Jenna needled him.

"Yeah," Draco said. "For a second there, I thought you were saying you're a poof!"

"Ack! No!"

"So you like girls," Jenna said. "Which girls do you like?"

"Jenna!" he protested.

"What? It's a fair question."

"No, it's not!"

"Not me?" Jenna's lower lip was pouting out.

"Stop that!"

When he had finished putting his robes on, Harry wondered at the simpleness of it. How had he ever been embarrassed? What had made him ashamed? It wasn't as though the girls were stripping off their knickers. It was off with the dress or trousers and on with the robes -- simple as that.

They started up a game of Exploding Snap a few minutes later as Goyle joined them and Pansy went off with Blaise to find Mandy and Padma. Draco won a few hands, but soon began to lose -- badly. His ego bruised, he started getting snappy.

"Oh would you shut up, Malfoy?" Tim finally said with audible exasperation.

"Bite me, Nott!" Draco retorted.

"Why don't you go jump off the back of the train? You're being an insufferable git."

"If you've got to abuse someone, go find Weasley," Millie suggested. Her brow furrowed as she studied her cards.

"That's an excellent idea," Draco declared, tossing down his cards, which exploded with a small burst of flame. "Goyle, come along."

"But I'm winning!"

"I don't care."

Never one to pass up a chance to get one up on Weasley, Harry turned in his cards as well and followed Draco out of the compartment with Goyle close behind. In the corridor they found Crabbe animatedly discussing the movements of Jupiter he had observed over the summer with Terry Boot, one of their Ravenclaw friends.

"Wotcher, Slytherins!"

"Wotcher, Ravenclaw," Harry said in return. Harry liked Terry well enough, but the round-faced boy was too studious by half. He and Tim were always competing for points in Herbology, their shared class with Ravenclaw.

"Crabbe, good. We're on our way to find Weasley." Draco glanced out the window and smoothed his hair, having caught a glimpse of his reflection.

"And I suppose you want me to come too."

"It had occurred to me."

"Guess we'll have to discuss Perseids later, Boot," Crabbe said regretfully.

"Weasley's just a few compartments down," the Ravenclaw informed them. "Longbottom and Thomas are with him."

"That's no problem," Draco declared confidently. "Let's go."

"Come find me after the feast," Terry invited Crabbe. "I'm going to go check in on my cousin. She's starting this year."

"I will."

Terry was correct, as he almost always was; the three Gryffindors were chatting away when Draco slid the door open unannounced. Weasley was instantly on his feet.

"I thought I smelled something nasty," he proclaimed.

"Then you should have bathed this morning," Draco retorted.

"I meant you."

"I did bathe. Extensively."

"Nearly an hour," Harry confirmed.

"But I do smell something," Draco continued. He sniffed theatrically. "Smells like -- Mudblood."

Thomas' face was probably turning red, but his black skin disguised it. His expression, though, was angry as he also got to his feet. "Malfoy, you'd better shut your mouth."

"It's four on two, Mudblood. What are you going to do?" Draco sneered.

Weasley laughed. "You can't count, Malfoy. It's four on three."

"You mean you're counting Longbottom?" Draco snickered. "You have got a sense of humour after all. I was just saying to Harry the other day-"

"Four on th-three, Malfoy," Longbottom stuttered bravely. He also got to his feet.

"Good man, Neville!" Weasley cheered.

"Why's it not three and a half, Weasley?" Harry poked him in the chest. "Where's your little sister? Doesn't your mummy have her keep an eye on you so you don't get into trouble?"

Weasley was turning the most delightful shade of red. "Shut up about Ginny, Potter!"

"Ginny Potter? Are they getting married?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

"Is that all you can say? 'Shut up, Malfoy; shut up Potter'? You've really got to widen your vocabulary," Draco continued to talk, nonchalantly fixing his hair. "Perhaps we should set you up on a date with Zabini. She'd be able to teach you a few new words."

Weasley shoved Draco, sending him thudding into the solidness of Goyle. He bounced off and ended up sprawled in the corner seat. Goyle grabbed Weasley's arm and twisted, getting a grunt of pain from him.

Thomas had taken a swing at Crabbe, but had done something wrong, because he was now cradling his hand. Longbottom was looking very scared, but he put up his dukes to Harry like a TV-style boxer. He looked so comical that Harry had to laugh. He put one hand on Longbottom's fist and gently pushed it down.

"I don't want to fight you, Neville," he said, using the boy's given name. "Weasley and Thomas swung first and got paid for it. Why do you want to try to hit me?"

"I guess I f-feel like I should. Ron's always saying how we have to stand up to the Slytherins."

"You hear that, Draco? Longbottom's been listening to Weasley."

"Well that's a bad idea," Draco said, getting to his feet. "Crabbe, pick him up."

The larger boy grabbed onto Weasley's jacket and lifted him up to his feet. Then Crabbe twisted his arm behind his back and grabbed a handful of red hair.

Draco leaned in close. "Sister a bit of a sore spot, is she, Weasley? Yes, I imagine it would be. She's quite taken with us Slytherins, you know. End of last year, we couldn't be rid of her. It must burn you up to see her with us. That's why I went along with it, despite what she helped do on Halloween. I think I might even try making friends with her."

"Malfoy, you stay away from my sister!"

At that moment, before things could really get ugly, Crabbe yelled in pain and waved his hand around in the air. A small flash of grey landed on the seat and stood up on hind legs, chattering angrily. It was Weasley's pet rat that he was always carrying around in his pocket. Blood was dripping from Crabbe's hand where the creature had bitten him.

"My hand!"

"Hah! Serves you right!" Weasley crowed, plucking up his pet and depositing it on his shoulder. "Scabbers and I'll do you up a treat. Come on, then!"

Draco glared at the bigmouth. "We'll take good care of your little sister, Weasley. And I'll give Percy your greetings when I see him next." He glanced at Harry. "Let's go."

In the hall, Harry took a look at Crabbe's bite. The rodent's teeth had penetrated deep, and red blood was seeping from the torn flesh. Harry drew his wand and cast a minor Healing Charm. The pain on Crabbe's face eased and the bigger boy wrapped his handkerchief around the wound.

"Brilliant plan, Malfoy," he grumbled.

"Shut up. It was fine until that stupid rat got in the way. We ought to do something about it. Say, don't owls like rats?"

"I ought to grab his neck," Crabbe grumbled. "And squeeze it."

"Too messy," Draco over-ruled. "What we need is some insidious plan. I think I will try to make friends with his sister. It's the perfect revenge."

Harry nodded. "I want to find the second years. I've had an idea of my own of what to do about our Weasley tag-along."

"What's that then?"

"You'll see."

Harry started walking. He ignored all of Draco's pleading to be told the plan. He walked back towards their own compartment, but kept going another few doors down. He rapped sharply and stood back.

"Yes?" A pretty girl with auburn hair answered the knock. "Oh! Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Laine." Harry and Draco had rescued Laine Slater and her brother Lucas from Percy last year before the prefect had come around to a decent way of thinking. Laine had largely been unable to speak directly to him during her first year, but now she was looking him right in the face.

"How was your summer?" she asked sweetly.

"Very exciting. I went to go see Wand Smasher in this old apple barn."

"Wand Smasher! Wow! That must have been lots of fun."

Harry grinned at her. "It was smashing," he dead-panned to an intense groan from Draco.

"And Malfoy, you're here too. Well, do come in." She raised a hand to Crabbe and Goyle, "Sorry, not enough room in here," she said, and shut the door in their faces!

"And now we have you all to ourselves," Laine pronounced. The three other girls in the compartment giggled loudly. "Does everyone know everyone?"

"I'm Michelle," a blonde girl with several thick braids introduced herself. She offered Harry her hand.

"Harry."

Michelle giggled. "I know."

"I'm Shawna," said a brown-haired girl. She smiled shyly at Draco, who winked at her.

The last girl was also blonde, and she waved at them from her seat. "Sarrah."

"What brings you boys rapping at our compartment door?" Laine asked.

"We were looking for you."

"And why is that?"

"I have a favour to ask of you." He looked around. "Of all of you, really."

Laine tilted her head to the side. "What do you need, Harry?"

"Ginny Weasley started following us around at the end of last year."

"I remember," Laine nodded. "She ate meals with you, spent lots of hours in your presence. I thought it was quite the cat's pyjamas how she got to hang out with you older kids."

"Well she wants to get out of Gryffindor, but old McGonagall won't agree to it. But what do you girls think of it? Would you be willing to take her in? If you bring her in, just like the sixth years brought in Percy, there won't be anything to be done. Professor Snape will back up the choice you've made."

"And you say she's going to be all right?" Sarrah asked. "That's a pretty huge favour."

"But not an impossible one," Laine decided. "And it will cost you something."

"Money?" Harry couldn't believe that a younger student -- a girl! -- would try to extort him.

"No, silly," Laine laughed, shaking her head. "I will go along with this plan of yours if you bring me a present from Hogsmeade.

"Like what?"

Laine giggled. "Surprise me, Harry. Shawna, what do you want?"

"A present from Draco," she giggled.

"What!"

"Sarrah?"

"I'd be content with money."

"Sarrah!"

"Okay, I want something from Hogsmeade too," she sighed. "Butterbeer. Get me some of that, and I'll do anything you want."

"Michelle?"

"A favour now for a favour later," the blonde said, playing with one of her braids. "You'll owe me one, Harry."

"Hah!" Draco laughed. "She knows how to play the game!"

Michelle blushed slightly, but grinned at him nonetheless.

"Then we have a deal," Harry nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Laine said.

"We'll be going now. I have to figure out what to get for a present," Draco said.

"See you at the feast!" Harry waved goodbye.

"Bye, Harry! Bye, Draco!"

Outside the compartment, Draco shook his head at Harry. "You never cease to amaze me. Inviting the Weaslette to hang around was brilliant, but getting the girls to take her in is inspired. It completely simplifies my involvement, and I get to play it full for Weasley."

"Hang on a minute," Harry said before they reached their own compartment. "I want to grab a book out of my trunk."

"We haven't even got to school yet," Draco protested.

"It's not a studying book. I found an essay that I wanted to share with everyone. It's interesting, I promise."

In the other compartment, something was awry. Their trunks had been moved aside, apparently by the down-and-out fellow who was slumped in the corner seat. He didn't look like much. His brown hair was speckled with grey, and there was nothing striking about him except the growth of moustache on his upper lip. He wore an extremely shabby wizard's robe that had been darned in several places.

"Must be the new Defence teacher," Crabbe judged.

"You're a natural for Divination," Harry teased him.

In response, the bigger boy pointed at the small suitcase between the man's feet. It was very battered and was held together only by a large quantity of neatly knotted string.

"Professor R.J. Lupin," Draco read from the tarnished brass. "More like the new Professor for Shabby Dressing. He looks ill. I hope he's not sick with something."

"S'not important," determined Goyle. "Let's just get Harry's book and get back to the game. I was winning, you know."

"Hey, there you are," Tim said as he stepped out of the primary compartment. "I told the girls I'd go look for you."

"Objective complete," Goyle chuckled.

"How did the Weasley-baiting go?"

"His blasted rat bit me!" Crabbe exclaimed. "I'm bleeding!"

Tim drew his wand and cast the same Healing Charm that Harry had cast earlier. The light that glowed seemed just a bit brighter and steadier this time. Crabbe flexed his finger gingerly, and a pleasantly surprised grin spread across his face.

"It doesn't hurt!"

"I'm a natural at these sorts of things," Tim told him seriously.

"All in all things worked out well. The second years are adopting Weasley's sister, so she's out of our hair," Draco informed Tim. "And now we're just investigating the new Defence professor."

"R.J. Lupin."

"He's got to be better than Lockhart," Harry tried to be positive.

Tim laughed. "Certainly true. Well, I expect we'll find out soon enough what this fellow is made of. Let's get back. Who knows what the girls are talking about with all of us blokes gone?"

"Who cares?" Goyle asked, grimacing as his voice cracked again.

"If your voice is changing, then you ought to be interested, Goyle. Let's listen in."

The boys leaned in close to the compartment door.

"... with it, Blaise. Who's been on your mind this summer?" Jenna's voice was the first they heard.

"Harry, of course," the blonde girl answered promptly. "I've liked him since first year."

"We're all well aware." That was Pansy talking. "When are you going to kiss him?"

"I don't know," Blaise sounded almost despairing. "Every time I think I'm ready to try, he smiles at me and my insides turn to mush."

"That's so sweet," Pansy sighed.

"If you say so." That was Millie.

"One day, Millicent, you too will discover what it means to like a boy and to think sweet thoughts about him."

Millie made a gagging sound. "I'd rather play Quidditch."

"Better watch yourself, Harry," Tim cautioned in a whisper. "Your lips have a target on them."

"What about you, Pansy? Will your first kiss be with Tim or Draco?"

"Neither, thank you very much."

"Goyle?"

"Now there's a thought," Pansy said, as though she were considering it.

"Pansy!" That was all the other girls together.

"What? I know Draco and I are expected to marry, but I really don't look at him like that. And Tim? Please, I'd rather have my lips ripped off than kiss that troll."

"Goyle looks more like a troll than Tim. Tim is actually quite handsome."

"You be quiet, Jenna."

"I'm only saying. If Blaise kisses Harry, and you won't kiss Draco or Tim, then it leaves Crabbe or Goyle."

"Says who? Maybe I'll decide to kiss Terry."

"Lucky him," Blaise noted.

"I think Mandy might have something to say about that," Jenna said.

"Who's Jenna after?" Harry muttered.

"Sounds like it could be me," Tim replied.

"Well, one thing is for certain, girls," Pansy told them. "Full disclosure on all kissing-related activities is mandatory."

"Agreed."

At that moment, the train began to slow down. The boys looked around in confusion.

"We can't be there yet," Draco said.

"So why are we stopping?" Crabbe asked.

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. Other noise soon joined in as students began to poke their heads out of their compartments, curious to know what was going on. Speculation flew as heavy as the rain pounding the train.

"Perhaps we've broken down," Tim suggested.

"Let's go see if we can find out what's going on," Harry suggested.

"We'd just get in the way," Goyle said firmly. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Let's get back and play cards."

Without warning, all the lamps went out! The train was plunged into total darkness. Several girls screamed, and Harry lost his balance, grabbing onto Crabbe's shoulder for support.

"Ouch, that's my foot!" Draco exclaimed.

"Sorry," Goyle rumbled.

The compartment door they'd been standing outside of slid open.

"Hello?" Harry asked.

"Harry, thank Merlin!" Blaise sounded very relieved.

"Is everyone alright?"

"We're fine," Jenna said from the darkness.

There was a squeaking noise, and Millie spoke up from the window. "There's something moving outside. I think it might be some people boarding the train."

"The Hogwarts Express is a one-stop train," Tim said in a speculative voice.

From the compartment where the Slytherins had stored their trunks, a light suddenly appeared. The new professor stood in the corridor holding a handful of crackling flames. His face was still grey and tired in the light, but his eyes were alert and wary.

"Everyone back in your compartments," he said in a hoarse voice. "Quickly!"

The sudden slamming of doors was cacophonous.

Harry felt cold. A horrid chill seemed to have entered the train, like a frost spirit. His breath caught in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, inside his very heart. He turned to look behind him and wished fervently that he had not.

A cloaked figure was coming towards them, not so much walking as gliding. It was tall, nearly the height of the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath the hood. A hand protruded from the cloak, a glistening, greyish, slimy-looking, scabby, decaying hand. Harry could hear its horrible breathing, slow and rattling, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

Harry's eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder! And from far away, he heard screaming -- terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was; he tried to move his arms but couldn't! A thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him --

"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?"

Someone was slapping his face.

"W-what?"

Harry opened his eyes; there were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking. The Hogwarts Express was moving again, and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have fallen to the floor in the corridor. Draco and Blaise were kneeling beside him, and all the rest of his friends were hovering close by. Professor Lupin was watching him closely. Harry felt sick -- very sick -- and when he put his hand up to push his glasses back on, he could feel cold sweat on his skin.

"Can you move?" Draco asked him.

"I think so."

"Good. Up into the compartment."

With some help from his friends, Harry made it to a seat. His legs were shaking something awful.

"What happened? Where did that thing go? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed, Harry," Blaise said, anxiety in her face as she studied his eyes.

"But I heard it." He looked around at his friends, squinting at the bright light. Tim and Pansy were very pale, and he had a troubled expression.

"But I heard screaming," Harry half-whispered.

A loud snap made them all jump! Professor Lupin was standing in the doorway breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here. Eat it," he instructed Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. "It'll help." He passed out chocolate to the rest of the Slytherins, giving Tim a larger piece as well.

Harry took his chocolate, but hesitated at putting it in his mouth.

"What was that thing?" he asked the new Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"A dementor," Lupin answered. "One of the dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him, wide-eyed. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat it," he told them again. "It will help. I need to go and speak with the driver. Please excuse me."

And he was gone.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" Blaise asked again, looking deep into his face.

Harry wiped sweat off his brow. He felt awful. Never in his life had he felt worse. Everything hurt, even thinking.

"What happened?" Time had passed strangely; Harry wanted to know why.

"Well, the dementor came down the corridor," Draco started off. "And you were watching it."

"I remember that."

"And then you just fell. I thought it might have been a hex of some kind. You were on the floor, all rigid like petrificus totalis, and then you started twitching."

"Professor Lupin drew his wand, then, and he stepped over you and walked right towards it!" There was no doubt what 'it' was. "He said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move. That's when he said this spell I couldn't hear, and a silvery glow moved very slowly towards it. It turned around and glided away."

"It was horrible," Pansy told him. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"I felt so depressed," said Jenna. "Like I'd never laugh again."

"All I could think about was all my bad marks," Goyle spoke up. "I heard my dad shouting over and over again that I'm never going to amount to anything with a head full of mutton."

"I remembered my mum succeeding at getting me in a dress. I remembered every single time it happened," Millie shared. "Why did she have to torture me like that?"

"But nobody -- fell down?" Harry asked awkwardly.

"No," Blaise said, looking anxiously at him again. "Tim and Pansy were shaking pretty hard, though."

Harry didn't understand. He felt weak and shivery, as though he were recovering from a bad bout of flu. Hints of shame were also creeping in. Why had he gone to pieces like that, when no one else had?

Professor Lupin had come back. He leaned in to the very crowded compartment and smiled at them. "That chocolate isn't poisoned, you know."

Harry took a bite, and to his surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes! The icy chill he'd felt was burned away. He took another bite and felt the same sensation, slightly lessened. Each bite sent waves of warmth through him, and when the chocolate was gone, he felt nearly himself again.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," the professor informed them. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Marvellous," he said dryly.

They didn't talk much for the rest of the journey. Though they'd eaten their chocolate, everyone seemed to draw into him or herself. What few attempts anyone made to break the silence were half-hearted.

At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station. There was a great struggle to get out into the open air. Owls hooted, cats meowed, and Longbottom's ridiculous toad croaked happily from under the boy's hat. An icy rain was coming down in sheets. The air was frigid.

"Firs' years this way!" came Hagrid's great voice. The lot of terrified-looking new students followed him off the platform for the traditional journey across the lake.

Harry ignored the musty smell of the stagecoach that brought the returning students up to the castle. He leaned back in his seat and looked out the window. As the coach approached the great wrought iron gates, he felt sick again. Standing in the rain in front of the stone columns with winged boars on top were two more towering, hooded dementors, standing guard. A wave of coldness threatened to engulf him, and he closed his eyes, praying not to upchuck. The carriage came to a halt at last, and they piled out.

"So you fainted, Potter?" came a delighted and grating voice.

Ron Weasley elbowed past Pansy to block Harry's way up to stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his blue eyes filled with malice.

"I saw the whole thing," he proclaimed, and several heads turned to look. "Potter got one look at the dementor and fell down crying like a little girl with a skinned knee!"

"Shove off, Weasley," Harry growled. The last thing he needed right now was to deal with the petty Gryffindor's petty annoyances. "Or did you want another beating?"

"What do you mean 'another'?" he said scornfully. "Who drew first blood?"

"My owl's dinner," Draco taunted him. "Move before I hex you."

Weasley blinked suddenly as Draco's wand was pointed at his nose. "Too slow, Weasley. Zap! You're dead!"

Wisely, perhaps, Weasley made no response, but backed away slowly. Draco kept his wand pointed until they were well past the Gryffindor, even taking the steps backward, to guard their rear position.

"God, he's annoying!" Draco exclaimed as they went through giant oak front doors, into the cavernous Entrance Hall lit with flaming torches, past the magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors, and headed for the Great Hall where the Welcoming Feast awaited them.

"Potter, I want to see you," called a voice just as Harry caught sight of the enchanted ceiling. Harry swore under his breath; the voice belonged to the Deputy Headmistress.

"Yes, ma'am?" he asked, after fighting his way over to her.

"Please come with me."

Harry had no choice but to follow as she stepped out of the hall and up the stairs to the offices on the second floor. Her office was a small room with a large, welcoming fire. Professor McGonagall motioned him to sit down. She sat behind her desk and folded her hands in front of her.

"Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter."

Oh for the love of magic!

There was a knock on the door, and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in. Harry felt blood rushing to his face. This was humiliating.

"Oh, it's you again, is it?"

"I'm fine," he said, standing up. "I don't need anything."

"I'm the judge of that, laddie," Madam Pomfrey said, leaning down to peer in his eyes. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

"It was a dementor, Poppy."

The two witches exchanged a dark look, and Madam clucked disapprovingly.

"Setting dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back Harry's hair to feel his forehead. "He won't be the last to collapse, mark my words. Yes, he's all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate-"

"I'm not delicate!" Harry protested sharply.

"Of course you're not," Madam said absently, now taking his pulse.

"What does he need?" old McGonagall asked in crisp tones. "Bed rest? A stay in the hospital wing?"

"A week off of Transfiguration?" Harry jutted in hopefully.

"Be quiet, Potter. This is no joking matter."

"I'm fine!" he emphasized. "I just need some food. I'll get that after the Sorting, if I haven't missed it!"

"He should have some chocolate, and then yes, hot food."

"I've had chocolate," Harry spoke quickly. "Professor Lupin gave it to me."

"Ah!" Madam Pomfrey said in a pleased voice. "So we've finally got a Defence teacher who knows his remedies, have we?"

"Apparently." Harry went to the door. "I'll go get that hot food now."

to be continued...