Harry Potter and the Dementors Unleashed: Harry's Sixth Year

     Harry awoke to hear screaming and he immediately flung his hand to his scar, which hadn't hurt all summer. He sat upright, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table, and saw that sunlight was pouring through the window. No one was in the dormitory but him, and he swung his legs over the bed, stood up, and threw on his clothes quickly. He went downstairs to see what the commotion was.

     Hermione was having a heated argument with Parvati Patil. Everyone stood around them, watching them scream in eachother's face, apalled.

     "HARRY ISN'T LYING! EVEN FUDGE KNOWS HE'S BACK!" Hermione screamed, and Parvati took a step toward her. Hermione, however, did not back down.

     "HARRY POTTER IS A RAVING LUNATIC!!" Parvati screamed, and Lavender Brown, her best friend, shouted her agreement.

     "WHAT MAKES YOU THINK HE ISN'T BACK, THEN? WHERE IS YOUR PROOF?" Hermione screamed, and Parvati did not stay silent or admit defeat like Harry expected her to. Anger boiled inside him. What are they saying about me now?

     "PROFESSOR TRELAWNEY SAID - "

     "Your only proof is that old hag?" asked Ron, rather calmly, and both Lavender and Parvati went red.

     "SHE IS NOT A HAG!" they screamed in unison, and at this point Harry could take it no longer.

     "She told me two years ago I was going to die in minutes because I had a dream about eating porridge!" he shouted, and everyone but Lavender and Parvati cackled with laughter.

     "Well, she - she's - "

     "An old fraud?" said Hermione angrily, and when they did not respond, she marched away. Everyone else followed; they were supposed to be at breakfast five minutes ago. Ron walked over to Harry.

     "It's good to see Hermione yell like that at other people," said Ron happily. "At least she's not yelling at me."

     They followed they rest of the Gryffindors to the Great Hall, Ron still cheerful. Harry tried not to notice that Hermione purposefully took a seat next to Ginny. Harry was so hungry his stomach felt like it was caving in, and as soon as they got to the Great Hall he filled his plate with eggs, bacon, toast, and a goblet of orange juice. Professor McGonagall was passing out the course schedules, and Ron immediately smiled when he saw their schedule.

     "Look, we've only got four subjects!" he said giddily, and Harry grinned too.

     "So today we've got Charms in the morning and Potions in the evening," he laughed, and he couldn't remember the last time he had done so after thinking about Potions, his least favorite subject in the world, taught by his least favorite teacher, Professor Snape. "Looks like we're going to have some time on our hands."

     Ron gave a roguish wink. "More time with the ladies," he whispered, and he looked pointedly from Harry to Cho. Harry chose not to say anyhting. He suddenly was not very hungry anymore, and Ron quickly changed the subject.

     "We have that new one on Thursday, so we won't find out what he's like until then," he said, looking over at his schedule. Harry nodded, trying to clear his head.

     "I bet they're like Binns, they don't seem very interesting, do they?" he asked, looking at them over the rim of his goblet and drinking deeply. Ron's face suddenly fell and Harry twisted his head around to see what Ron was so sad about. He, apparently, had just noticed that Hermione was sitting several seats away from them and every now and then she would shoot them a glare. When she saw them watching she quickly turned red and did not look up again. Harry frowned.

     "Oh, it's going to be a long Potions class without her help," sighed Ron, and they two of them looked up to see the daily arrival of owls. Harry was not suprised to see that Hedwig had nothing for him, and Ron had no mail; they were both stunned to see that Hermione got two owls. She stared after the birds, just as stunned as they, and opened her letters. Harry and Ron stood to leave, but there was a sudden shriek and they whipped around to see Hermione, on her feet, staring at her letter. Everyone else had also noticed, but she didn't seem to care. She dropped the letter as though it had burnt her and took off toward the dormitories. Harry and Ron loked at eachother, shocked, then stood and reached for the parchment she had dropped. It was from Krum.

     Dear Hermione,

     I realized when you left that this relationship can not possibly go on any longer. You are never with me, always with Harry and Ronald and never here near Durmstrang. I see you for a week once a year and I can not stand being away from you. It pains me to tell you this, but in a sense, I am breaking up with you. I still want to be your friend and stay in contact with you, but there is a very nice woman I met in my country that I can see whenever I please, and she is also my age. I told you age was not a factor in our relationship, but it is now, what with me out of school and you not finishing until late next year. I hope you are well.

     Viktor

     Harry and Ron looked at each other uneasily. Harry pocketed the letter and checked his watch. They didn't have time to comfort Hermione. They were already cutting it close just by standing there. They looked at eachother.

     "We don't have time for this!" Harry exclaimed angrily. He suddenly noticed everyone was still looking at them. Grabbing Ron's robes and managing to snatch up Hermione's copy of the Daily Prophet, he dragged him out of the Great Hall forcefully. Ron had a very strange look on his face.

     "I can't believe he left her like that," he said, and Harry couldn't tell if Ron was angry or suprised or both. They ran down the Charms corridor, panting, wondering if they were going to make it. Harry flung open the door and sat down as quickly as possible, watching Professor Flitwick apprehensively.

     "3 . . .2 . . .1, " he said, looking at his watch. "Just in time, fellows. Now, have a seat please, just let me take roll here, . . . "

     Harry watched Flitwick, waiting for Hermione's name. When it was called and she didn't respond, he looked up at their table expectantly.

     "Ms. Granger?" he repeated. When no one responded, he frowned and made a mark on his paper. "Does anyone know where she is?"

     Harry raised his hand. "Please, Professor, I think she went to the hospital wing for - for - something she ate," he replied, and no one contradicted him although Lavender and Parvati looked as though they were barely restraining themselves. Harry watched Professor Flitwick, waiting for his reaction, and Harry suddenly remembered that Flitwick, who had been there at breakfat, had probably witnessed what had really happened. He held his breath, but to his suprise, Flitwick gave an understanding nod and went on calling roll. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Professor Flitwick stood up and started the lesson.

     "Today we will be practicing a new spell," he started. "It's the opposite of a Cheering Charm, and is known as a Let Down Jinx because it makes the opposite person extremely sad. The power of the spell depends on the happiness of the user, so I advise you to be as happy as is possible. I will be pairing you in threes. Mr. Finnigan, would you be so kind as to help me pair your classmates up?" he chirped, and once they were all in trios, Harry and Ron were in the same group as Neville much to their despair. They all sat down at eachother's table, and Harry saw that he and Ron were not the only unlucky ones; Lavender and Parvati had been split up and Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were paired with Parvati.

     The lesson was fairly easy; although as most people had already had the charm used on them at least once, their spells grew weaker and weaker. Harry thought he was finally getting the knack of it when all of a sudden Neville burst into tears and flung his head on the table, wailing in misery after a paticularly strong spell fom Ron. All in all, the morning was not one of their happiest.

     As soon as Flitwick released them, Harry and Ron bolted out the door, bags swinging wildly behind them, darted up three flights of stairs and through a secret passage behind a laced curtain, down three hall ways and stopped, panting, in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.

     "F-furrinata," said Harry, waiting for Ron who had fallen back a few paces.

     "If she's in the girls' dormitories we're doomed, you know," said Ron, breathing heavily. But she wasn't; in fact, she was sitting right in front of the fire, her face that of forced calm, carefully writing a letter on a rather long bit of parchment. Hermione didn't even look up at them.

     "Hermione, we're really sorry about Krum," Harry said sympathetically. At this Ron took three steps forward, a triumphant look on his freckly face.

     "I told you - " Harry stopped him just in time. Telling Hermione she had been wrong since fourth year did not seem like such a good idea at the moment.

     "What are you writing, Hermione?" asked Harry, giving Ron a pointed look. Ron sat down next to Harry in their armchairs by the fire. They watched her uneasily; she seemed to be clenching and unclenching her teeth. Whether this was their fault or not they had no idea.

     "Writing a letter to - to - " she seemed to be struggling with his name. "To V-" her eyes welled up. "To Krum."

     Harry shifted uneasily. He felt bad for Hermione a lot, who he knew had liked Krum very much. He didn't know what to tell her, apart from that he had been rejected and it wasn't fun at all. He didn't see how this would help her, but it was worth a try.

     "Hermione, last year Cho and I - er - broke - up - and I - felt - pretty bad, I guess," he said, immediately realizing how stupid he had sounded and almost laughing in humiliation. Hermione gave a weak smile. Ron frowned thoughtfully.

     "Yeah, I remember Fluer telling me no," he said, looking into the fire. Harry snorted at Ron's terrible example of being let go, because, for one, he had never been held, exactly. Hermione's shadow of a grin faded away into a scowl.

     "Like you even had a chance with her," she said, rolling her eyes. Ron spluttered in indignation.

     "Excuse me? I thought I had a fair chance with her!"

     "Yes, your right, how could I be so silly?" said Hermione in a mock tone of apology. Ron fell back into his chair again, arms folded. Hermione returned to her letter.

    "What happened in Charms?" she asked suddenly, looking up at Harry.

     "Nothing at all, really," he said truthfully, also sitting back. "Just some jinx - "

     "We learned something new, and I wasn't there?" Hermione asked in a panicky voice. "Well? What was it?"

     Harry, taken aback, replied, "Er, some sort of Let-Down Jinx or someth - "

     "We learned the Let-Down Jinx today?" she exclaimed, standing so quickly her letter fell to the ground. Harry saw Ron tilting his head to the side to read the first line. Hermione bolted up to her room and came back down seconds later, pulling on her left shoe. "I'm going to the library." She exited through the portrait hole, but a millisecond later came back through, snached her letter from Ron's hands, and darted back out.

     Harry waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps then turned to Ron.

     "What did it say?" he asked eagerly. Ron grinned.

     "Didn't you see that she wrote it in Howler ink?" he asked. Harry shook his head. "Well, she's told him that he would - " he paused, apparently trying to remember her exact wording, " - get his comeuppance or something, I dunno, but it sounded really good."

     Harry stood up, motioning for Ron to join him. "Come on, Ron, let's get some lunch, I'm starving." Ron hesitated, then stood up and followed him out the portrait hole. Harry was in such a hurry to get to the Great Hall that he collided right in to Colin Creevey, a fifth year who sincerely admired Harry. Harry stood up, brushing himself off and starting to apologize, but then Ron sped around the corner and ran into Harry, who fell onto Colin, knocking them all down like Dominoes. Harry and Ron burst into laughter. Colin, however, stood up quickly and walked away without a word to Harry, throwing them both a particularly nasty look before rounding the corner and turning toward the portrait of the Fat Lady, his cloak billowing somewhat impressively behind him.

     Harry and Ron looked at each other, eyebrows raised. They were both friends, or at least thought they were friends, with Colin, but this act of anger had rendered them speechless. Harry stood up, helping Ron to his feet, and turned around, going through the doors of the Great Hall and moving toward the Gryffindor table. He and Ron sat down and looked around at their fellow classmates, all of whom were either glaring at them or avoiding their eyes. There was one person who was happy, however, but Harry could not see how that person being glad with them could possibly cheer him up.

     "So, Weasley, did you finally confess your love to Potter?" drawled Malfoy delightedly, strolling over to the Gryffindor table. "Looks like you've broken dear Granger's heart, or maybe you told her you couldn't afford a wedding ring? We're all dying to - "

     Harry did not have the heart to stop Ron as he flung himself onto Malfoy. He supposed he would just let Ron get a few good hits in here and there, then grab the hem of his robes before he knocked Malfoy senseless. But Crabbe and Goyle had no such plan. They were in the fight at once, knocking Ron off his feet and causing him to fall right next to Harry, who grabbed him under the arms and lifted him to his feet. Crabbe swung his fist back and Harry and Ron both ducked, but amazingly his foot stopped in midair while he aimed a kick at their heads.

     Professor McGonagall was striding towards them, a look of utmost anger on her face, wand in hand. She looked from Ron, who had a cut on his lip and a broken arm, to Harry, who had no definite injuries, to Crabbe and Goyle, who were also ininjured. It was perhaps lucky that she did not notice Malfoy, his nose broken and mashed into his face and several cuts across his narrow face. Harry got the feeling Gryffindor would have very few points if she had. Instead, her lips thin and white, she let Goyle's foot come down.

     "Hospital wing, Weasley," she said severely, then turned towards the rest of them. "I am very disappointed in you three. Slytherin loses fifty points. Head to your next class." Harry turned to leave when McGonagall called him back.

     "Potter, I wasn't finished with you yet. Gryffindor loses fifty points also, and detention with me this week. All of this week." Harry's heart sank. Just another reason for the Gryffindors to hate him.

     "Professor, it was Malfoy, he was insulting - "

     "Malfoy was here?" she interrupted, looking round and seeing him lying unconscious on the floor. "Enervate," she whispered, and Malfoy woke up and lay there. "Hospital wing, and another twenty-five points from Slytherin."

     Malfoy, cursing, left the Great Hall, and Harry looked at McGonagall.

    "That will be all," she said, waving her hand dismissively. Harry quickly complied and left the Great Hall, wondering what he would tell Snape and how many detentions he would get for being thirteen minutes late to his class. He guessed about a month and his spirits sank so low he half felt like not going to Potions at all. But he did, and he swung open the dungeon door and went straight to his desk, throwing his bag on it with a clunk that echoed throughout the room. He looked up at Snape, who, like Malfoy, seemed pleased to see Harry in a bad mood.

     "You're late, Potter," he sneered, and Harry opened his mouth to explain but Snape cut him off. "Where are Weasley and Granger?" he asked unpleasantly.

     "Hospital wing," he answered coolly.

     "Both of them?"

     "Actually, Hermione is at the library - "

     "I do not believe that is a very good excuse, Potter. Detention for the two of you. Every night for the next month. Stay behind after class so we may go into - er - details," he sneered.

     "I'm only late because - "

     "I do not want your excuses, Potter. I could care less if you were out defeating the Dark Lord. This is my class and you are subject to my punishments."

     Just then the door swung open and Malfoy strode in and took a seat, tossing his bag casually onto his seat. "Sorry I'm late, Professor."

    "That's fine, try harder next time, I understand how hard it is to get to class on time, what with your busy schedule," replied Snape, and Seamus Finnigan let a cry of protest. Snape whirled around to face him.

    "Do not contest my teaching, Finnigan. Ten points from Gryffindor." Seamus sat there, mouth agape, looking at Snape with the utmost hatred. Fortunately, Snape was distracted by Ron, who had just entered confidently and plopped down next to Harry. He looked up at Snape. Snape was looking malicious.

     "Thirty points from Gryffindor, Weasley. Do not be late to my class again." Ron did not react, actng as though he had not even heard Snape at all. Instead, he slowly leaned back in his chair ad looked up at him. Snape raised an eyebrow, then turned around, waving his wand so that the potion instructions flew onto the board.

     "The Draught of Living Death," he said, waving his wand carelessly so that the student cupboards flew open. "Instructions on the board, you have one hour. Begin."

     Harry quickly fetched his and Ron's ingredients and came back to the desk. "Here," he said, tossing the frog bladders onto his desk. "Now tell me why you're acting so weird."

     Ron grinned at him. "Peeves pushed a desk off the third floor and it landed right on me," he replied, acting as though there were nothing better than having heavy chunks of wood tossed at you from great heights by poltergeists.

     "You need help," said Harry, turning away and shaking his head.

     "No - listen! Filch came - "

     "How does that make you feel any better?"

     "He said I stopped it from breaking, and then that Meadons came 'round saying that Gryffindor should get fifty points since that desk was so valuable. And I agreed with him of course, so I still have twenty points from that and no one need ever know that I did any wrong."

     Harry beamed. Maybe Professor Meadons favored Gryffindor. Maybe he wasn't as bad as Harry thought. Or maybe he was just fair; the desk did crush Ron. The desk probably would have broken his ribs had he not still had Skele-Gro in his veins.

     Harry looked at the board. He knew that the Draught of Living Death was a powerful sleeping potion, but he had thought they would never make it. It seemed as though Snape was punishing them; this was the most complicated potion he had made, even more complicated than the Polyjuice Potion, in fact. Seamus raised his hand.

     "Sir, I - the board says - the boomslang skin - "

     "Yes, I have provided that for you," Snape answered, not even looking at him.

     "And the frog bladders have to be pickled at the quarter moon - "

     "I have also provided those, Finnigan, and please notice that I have not called your name once yet, so if you speak out of turn again I will give you detention for the rest of your natural-born life."

     Seamus' mouth snapped shut with an audible click. Harry looked at his potion. It looked too chunky. Way too chunky to be correct. Where was Hermione when you needed her?

     Ron was not exactly excelling at his potion, either. It was not even the same color of Harry's. His was blue. Harry looked at Malfoy, who was smirking as Snape complimented him on the perfect texture of his potion. Malfoy's was green, like Harry's, just not quite as chunky. His was smooth with the tiniest ripples in it. Harrry's thought his looked rather like tainted pot roast. Snape thought so too.

     "Potter, read the seventh sentence on the board, if you please," he asked nastily. Harry looked at the board.

     "Before adding the porcupine quills, stir the frog bladders counter-clockwise so that the potion is no longer thick." His stomach flopped over. He had stirred them clockwise. Snape waved his wand and Harry's potion disappeared before his eyes. Snape sneered and Ron's potion also vanished. Ron and Harry glared at Snape with utmost hatred. He smirked and turned to the other Gryffindor's, who hadn't looked at Harry or Ron all period.

    "I wonder which other Gryffindors will get zeroes today," Snape questioned, and everyone nervously looked at their potions, comparing them to other students'.

    Harry sat there, waiting for the bell to ring so he could tell Hermione how awful the lesson had been. However, as Harry made to dart out of the classroom, Snape called him back

     "I thought I made it clear that we were to discuss your detentions after class, Potter. Should I add defiance to your late note?"

     Harry shook his head furiously. "No, I'm fine with tardy, Professor. By the way, I'm sure Professor McGonagall will tell you - "

     "I also made it clear that I accept no excuses from you. Now sit."

     Harry sat.

     "I daresay that practicing Occlumency escaped your mind?" Snape asked. Harry's stomach flopped. He stared determinedly at Snape.

     "Yeah, I forgot," he replied casually. Snape's bottom lip curled.

     "You will address me as 'sir', Potter. It's strange how you seem to forget things so easily. I heard that paying attention helps this sort of thing. Now, as for your detentions, you will be in this classroom every weekday starting tomorrow, and if you dare miss a single one I will make it another month. Do we understand each other?"

     Harry nodded. He was thinking about last year. He would never forgive Snape. Snape had killed Sirius. It was all Snape's fault Harry no longer has a godfather. It was all his fault. Entirely his fault. White-hot anger burned inside of Harry, and he stood up so quickly Snape jumped.

     "You killed him, you know that, right?" he whispered, and Snape's hand shook slightly as he wrote down Harry's detentions.

     "I did no such thing, Potter. It was your own thick head. If you only would have practiced Occ - "

     "IF YOU WEREN'T SO STUPID, MAYBE HE WOULD HAVE LIVED! ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS LET ME KNOW HE WAS SAFE! THAT'S ALL YOU HAD TO DO!"

     "DO NOT SPEAK TO ME IN SUCH A MANNER!" screamed Snape, and Harry saw with some satisfaction that he had gone very white.

     "You know you killed him. You know it's your fault." He was speaking rather calmly now, though the anger burned inside him ever persistently.

     "Get out of this classroom, Potter, before I write your detentions on your forehead. I don't want to see you until tomorrow."

     "Fine with me, sir," he said and left Snape staring after him, breathing heavily, his lip curling.