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SIYE Time:7:10 on 29th March 2024
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Picking Up The Pieces
By Dopeydo

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Category: The Carpe Diem Challenge (2017-1), The Carpe Diem Challenge (2017-1)
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Genres: Angst, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 20
Summary: It's not easy being possessed.
Hitcount: Story Total: 9486; Chapter Total: 1844





Author's Notes:
Bits of CoS and PoA used for set up, credit to JKR for that, obviously. The prologue has been inserted at the top of this chapter since I can't submit it separately (< 1000 words).




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PROLOGUE


 

Riddle was gone. It was all over. Harry’s wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence.


 

Silence, except for the steady dripping of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it.


 

Shaking all over, Harry pulled himself to his feet. His head was spinning as though he’d just travelled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, he gathered together his wand and the Sorting Hat, and with an almighty tug he retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the basilisk’s mouth.


 

Then came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Ginny was stirring. Even as Harry hurried towards her, she groaned and sat up. Her bewildered eyes travelled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over Harry in his blood-soaked robes, to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.


 

“Harry – oh, Harry – I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn’t say it in front of Percy – it was me, Harry – but I – I s-swear I d-didn’t mean to – R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over – and – how did you kill that – that thing? W-where’s Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary –”


 

“It’s all right,” said Harry, holding up the diary, and showing Ginny the fang hole, “Riddle’s finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C’mon, Ginny, let’s get out of here –”


 

“I’m going to be expelled!” Ginny wept as Harry helped her awkwardly to her feet. “I’ve looked forward to coming to Hogwarts forever and n-now I’ll have to leave and – w-what’ll Mum and Dad say?”


 

Harry honestly didn’t have a clue. The Dursleys would probably just be upset that he hadn’t died, but the Weasleys weren’t like that at all. “I guess they’ll be happy that you’re okay.”


 

Ginny looked into his eyes then, through the shimmering tears, and Harry felt something wrench inside of him. “I’m sorry, Harry,” she said in a tiny little voice. Then she wrapped her arms around him and started crying into his chest.


 

Harry felt totally lost. He tried simply returning the embrace. That seemed to work well enough. At least, she wasn’t getting any worse, so he had to assume it was okay. The corpse of the basilisk stared at him from behind her, and he held her tighter, her head burrowing into his shoulder.


 

Harry wasn’t sure how long they stood there. But as he stared into those huge, unseeing, ravaged eyes, Harry felt a coldness growing in his stomach.


 

“Let’s get out of here,” Harry repeated. Ginny sniffled and nodded into his shoulder.


 

 

GETTING THROUGH


 

“It’s all right, Crookshanks,” Hermione cooed through the wickerwork of his basket. “I’ll let you out on the train.”


 

“You won’t,” snapped Ron. “What about poor Scabbers, eh?” He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket.


 

Mr. Weasley, who had been waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck his head inside. “They’re here,” he said. “Harry, come on.”


 

Mr. Weasley marched Harry across the short stretch of pavement towards the first of two old dark green Jaguars, each of which was driven by a furtive-looking wizard wearing a suit of emerald velvet.


 

“In you get, Harry,” said Mr. Weasley, glancing up and down the crowded street. Harry got into the back of the car and was shortly joined by Hermione, Ron, and, to Ron’s disgust, Percy.


 

The Ministry of Magic cars, which had instantaneously expanded to allow the four of them to sit comfortably abreast, seemed almost ordinary compared to the Knight Bus Harry had ridden from Privet Drive to the Leaky Cauldron. A truly infernal contraption, the Knight Bus was a triple-decked, purple dodgem car, which magically warped around obstacles as it shot around the country at subsonic speeds.


 

They reached King’s Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found them trolleys, unloaded their trunks, touched their hats in salute to Mr. Weasley, and drove away, somehow managing to jump to the head of an unmoving line at the traffic lights. Mr. Weasley kept close to Harry’s elbow all the way into the station.


 

“Right then,” Mr. Weasley said, glancing around them. “Let’s do this in pairs, as there are so many of us. I’ll go through first with Harry.”


 

In a moment, they had fallen sideways through the solid metal of the barrier onto platform nine and three quarters, and looked up to see the Hogwarts Express puffing smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children onto the train.


 

Percy and Ginny appeared behind Harry with a squeak of abused trolley wheels. They were panting and had apparently taken the barrier at a run.


 

“Ah, there’s Penelope!” said Percy, smoothing his hair and going pink again.


 

Ginny caught Harry’s eye, and they both turned away to hide their smirks. Percy strode over to a girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn’t miss his shiny badge.


 

Once the remaining Weasleys and Hermione had joined them, Harry and Mr. Weasley led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. They loaded the trunks onto it before going back outside to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs Weasley. Mrs Weasley kissed all her children, then Hermione, and finally Harry. He was embarrassed, but really quite pleased, when she gave him an extra hug. “Do take care, won’t you Harry?” she said as she straightened up, her eyes oddly bright.


 

“Harry,” said Mr. Weasley quietly, “come over here for a moment.”


 

He jerked his head towards a pillar, and Harry followed him behind it.


 

“There’s something I’ve got to tell you before you leave –” said Mr. Weasley in a tense voice.


 

“It’s all right, Mr. Weasley,” said Harry, “I already know.”


 

“You know? How could you know?”


 

“I err… I heard you and Mrs Weasley talking last night. I couldn’t help hearing,” Harry added quickly. “Sorry.”


 

He wasn’t too sorry, if he was honest. He’d been in mortal danger on and off for quite a while now, and hiding threats from him didn’t do him any favours. What was an escaped convict anyway?


 

“That’s not the way I’d have chosen for you to find out,” said Mr. Weasley looking anxious.


 

“No, honestly it’s okay. This way, you haven’t broken your word to Fudge and I know what’s going on.”


 

“Harry, you must be scared – “


 

“I’m not,” said Harry sincerely. “Really,” he added, because Mr. Weasley was looking disbelieving. “I’m not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Sirius Black can’t be worse than Lord Voldemort, can he?”


 

Mr. Weasley flinched at the sound of the name, but overlooked it. “Harry, I knew you were, well, made of stronger stuff than Minister Fudge seems to think, and I’m obviously pleased that you’re not scared, but –”


 

“Arthur!” called Mrs Weasley, who was now shepherding the rest onto the train. “Arthur, what are you doing? It’s about to go!”


 

“He’s coming Molly!” said Mr. Weasley, but he turned back to Harry and kept talking in a lower and more hurried voice, “Listen, I want you to give me your word –”


 

“ – that I’ll be a good boy and stay in the castle?” said Harry gloomily.


 

“Not entirely,” said Mr. Weasley, who looked more serious than Harry had ever seen him. “Harry, swear to me you won’t go looking for Black.”


 

Harry stared. “What?”


 

There was a loud whistle. Guards were walking along the train, slamming all the doors shut.


 

“Promise me, Harry,” said Mr. Weasley, talking more quickly still, “that whatever happens –”


 

“Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?” said Harry blankly.


 

“Swear to me that whatever you might hear –”


 

“Arthur, quickly!” cried Mrs Weasley.


 

Steam was billowing from the train; it had started to move. Harry ran to the compartment door and Ron threw it open and stood back to let him on. They leaned out of the window and waved at Mr. and Mrs Weasley until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view.


 

“I need to talk to you in private,” Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione as the train picked up speed.


 

“Go away, Ginny,” said Ron.


 

“Oh, that’s nice,” said Ginny huffily, and she stalked off.


 

“No, wait,” Harry called.


 

She stopped dead. When Ginny turned and met his eyes, he looked at her properly for the first time, and noticed that she looked much thinner than he remembered. Her face was drawn and weary. “Please Ginny, come sit with us.”


 

There was a smacking sound behind him, and Ron cried out. Harry span on the spot, wand snapping into his hand in readiness to fight Sirius Black, the mass murderer who had supposedly broken out of Azkaban prison to kill him. It wasn’t Black, of course. Hermione was glaring daggers at Ron, who was glaring back and rubbing the back of his head.


 

“What in the bloody hell was that for, Hermione?!”


 

“Maybe we should just leave them to it,” Harry suggested quietly. He didn’t fancy getting stuck in the middle of one of their rows. Besides, Ginny had him concerned now.


 

“Sure,” Ginny replied in that same small voice Harry remembered from the Chamber.


 

They hurried along the train looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the very last one. It had only one occupant — a man, who sat fast asleep next to the window. They stopped on the threshold. The Hogwarts Express usually only catered to students. They had never seen an adult on the train before, besides the witch who pushed the food trolley. The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard’s robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray.


 

“Professor R. J. Lupin...” Ginny muttered.


 

“Know him?” Harry asked. Ginny gave him an incredulous look. It was the first time she’d shown him anything but timidity.


 

“You call yourself a Seeker?” she admonished. “Use your eyes.”


 

Harry soon found what she was referring to. The man’s trunk had his name on it in peeling golden letters. “New Defense teacher, huh?” Harry mused.


 

“Must be,” said Ginny.


 

Harry looked at her closely, and Ginny seemed to remember to be embarrassed.


 

“Ginny, look at me,” Harry said.


 

She did as he bade her, though she was blushing to the roots of her bright red hair. Her eyes were faintly bloodshot, and there were bags under her eyes that he hadn’t seen before — as though someone had cast notice-me-not charms.


 

“What’s wrong?” said Harry.


 

“Noth-”


 

“Please, Ginny,” Harry insisted.


 

For a moment, he thought Ginny was going to cry again. “You promise you won’t tell anyone?” she asked.


 

“I would never,” Harry swore. He locked the compartment door.


 

“I can’t get rid of him, Harry!” she cried desperately. “He still whispers in my head. I’ve been having nightmares and I can’t sleep...”


 

Harry stared at her. He’d never considered that the diary might have this kind of effect on her. The door rattled. They looked up to see that Ron and Hermione had finally stopped arguing. Apparently, Hermione had won most conclusively. Harry drew a finger across his neck and nodded to Ginny. Hermione nodded sympathetically and led Ron off. Trust her to know what he had to do before he did.


 

“You should go sit with Ron and Hermione,” Ginny said. “You’ll have a lot to talk about with Black on the loose.”


 

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” Harry promised.


 

Ginny blushed, and Harry could see relief written all over her freckled face. “This wasn’t the way I imagined you noticing me…”


 

“I ... I want to help you, Ginny,” Harry said earnestly.


 

“Thanks,” she said. “Really, thanks. The twins… Bill and Charlie all tried to help me forget, and that helped but it wasn’t what I needed, you know? Mum and Dad listened, but they weren’t there. They didn’t understand.”


 

Harry crossed to sit awkwardly next to her. At least, it was awkward for him. Ginny seemed pretty much lost in her woes. “Why don’t you tell me how it all started?”


 

“Well, I found the diary with all my other books,” Ginny explained. She’d obviously had to tell this story before. “I was really curious - normally I’d have taken it to Dad, but I was so curious that I couldn’t help myself. But the diary had nothing in it. I left it for a while, but as I started reading through my school books I realised that the diary was exactly what I wanted. I’d been waiting to go to Hogwarts for so long, so why not start a diary?”


 

“You never had a chance,” Harry said.


 

“That’s what everyone else said,” Ginny told him miserably.


 

“But Voldemort’s still out there,” Harry said. He noted a shudder at the name, but also noted that she had far more reason to fear it than Ron or Hermione did. “You were only eleven then, but now you can work hard so that if and when you meet him again, you kick his rotting arse.”


 

Ginny smiled hesitantly at him. “You really think so?”


 

“I know so,” Harry said confidently. “Not one person died last year and I don’t think that was coincidence.”


 

“It was nothing to do with me,” Ginny sniffed. “I don’t even remember the attacks.”


 

“So how do you know it wasn’t you?” Harry challenged. “Maybe the diary wanted you to throw it away because you were too strong.”


 

“That’s ridiculous,” Ginny said.


 

“Only a guess,” Harry defended. “Go on, you’d just decided it was a good idea to start writing in the diary.”


 

“Yeah, that was when I got my first urge to run to Dad,” she explained. “It wrote back to me, but you knew that already...”


 

“Keep going, Ginny,” Harry said encouragingly. It was the only thing he could think of while he considered other things to say to her. Maybe it had been a bad idea to send Hermione away.


 

“Well, he was really nice, and acted all surprised that someone had found his diary. He seemed interested in me, and answered my questions about Hogwarts and stuff. I found myself telling him more and more about myself. I didn’t see the harm in giving secrets to someone who couldn’t give them away. Forgot that he was a talking bloody diary...”


 

As she trailed off, he noticed that she was staring at her shoes, which she was rubbing against each other listlessly.


 

“Hey, Ginny, you were totally under his spell by then,” Harry said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. He reached haltingly to put his arm around her. As he did, Ginny seemed to melt into his side. She was very warm there, and Harry found himself relaxing into it too. “It wasn’t your fault.”


 

Ginny didn’t say anything for a while. “He’s been quiet for a little while now,” she finally whispered, as if she were afraid that Voldemort would hear.


 

“If he does say something, tell me and I’ll stab him again for you,” Harry said.


 

She smiled at him. There wasn’t a particular thing that Harry could think of to explain it, but Ginny’s smile made her whole face light up and it was as if he were looking at a different person entirely. Her smile turned into a grin, which soon became laughter. Her laughter was contagious and soon they were clutching each other just for physical support. When they regained their breath, they looked worriedly to Lupin, but the man was still fast asleep.


 

“Tell me your side, Harry,” Ginny pressed. “You know pretty much all of my story now anyway.”


 

When Harry tried to look her in the eye, she avoided him. It wasn’t hugely obvious, but it was enough. “You can trust me, Ginny. At least I hope you can.”


 

“You know, I never imagined just being able to talk to you,” Ginny started. Harry might’ve fallen for it if they weren’t so far into this help session or whatever it was.


 

“Come on, don’t change the subject,” Harry sighed. “I really want to help you.”


 

She blushed and clenched her jaw. “It was you, Harry.” The sentence wasn’t said with any malice, but it cut deeply.


 

“What?”


 

She turned worried eyes on him; worried, weary eyes that were a more fiery, honey-like brown than Hermione’s. “He got at me when he found out about you.” Harry remembered Riddle gloating in the Chamber about Ginny’s silly little crush, and how he’d worked upon her fear that Harry Potter would never notice her. “At first he was all reassuring, but as the year went by he started to drop little comments.”


 

“Ginny I don’t know what he said to you,” said Harry. “But he hasn’t got the first bloody clue about me. That’s why he keeps losing. So whatever he did say is worth roughly sod all.”


 

Ginny sighed, and Harry noticed that she had been staring into his eyes. “Don’t forget about me,” she demanded.


 

Harry gritted his teeth. He knew that her brothers were all feeling like crap after the shocking job they’d done last year. “I promise.”


 

“I want to change though, so get out for now,” Ginny grinned.


 

“What, the professor gets to see but I don’t?” said Harry.


 

She shoved him away. “Go on,” she laughed.


 

The corridor down the carriage was entirely devoid of students, but the lady with the food trolley came out of the luggage carriages after a minute or so. Harry bought a cauldron cake and a few chocolate frogs and liquorice wands; he debated a box of every flavour beans, eventually deciding to just go for it. He waited patiently then until the door opened behind him.


 

“I got sweets,” Harry grinned, holding them up.


 

“You’re such a gentleman,” she grinned, grabbing at a chocolate frog. Harry was too quick for her though.


 

“Not until I’ve changed,” Harry smirked. She pouted at him, which really tested his willpower, but he just pointed at the door.


 

“Fine,” she huffed.


 

Harry took his time changing, watching her through the window for signs of her reaction. After a couple of minutes she was clearly getting impatient, and Harry grinned, imagining her clenching her jaw and fists. When Harry finally did let her in she was glaring at him.


 

“You took forever!” she exclaimed.


 

“Good things come to those who wait,” Harry grinned, waving a chocolate frog in front of her face.


 

She smirked at him. “You’re a prat, you know that?”


 

“Sit and eat,” Harry laughed. She did as she was told, catching the animated frog with practised ease and munching it slowly. “I’m really glad you’re talking to me now. The whole elbow-in-the-butter-dish routine was funny, but I prefer this.”


 

Ginny blushed furiously and opened her mouth to protest, but Harry shut her down. “Eat, Ginny. You’ve lost weight.”


 

“You sound like Mum,” she grumbled, but again she did as she was told.


 

He supposed that she was right, but the difference between this Ginny and the Ginny who’d boarded the train a year ago was stark. Harry sat next to her and placed a gentle hand on her back.


 

They sat together eating and idly chatting for hours. It turned out that Ginny was just as much of a Quidditch fan as he was, if not so fanatical as Ron. She supported the Holyhead Harpies, the league’s only all-female team, and hoped to play for them as a chaser someday. By lunchtime, most of the sweets were gone, but Ginny was in much higher spirits.


 

“Hey, I know one of the girls in Hermione’s dorm has a wireless, I’ll show you…” Ginny trailed off.


 

A faint whistling noise was coming from Harry’s trunk.


 

“Oh crap,” Ginny muttered.


 

“What is it?” Harry asked.


 

“The sneakoscope Ron got you,” Ginny said. “Something nasty’s on the way.”


 

As if on cue, Draco Malfoy pulled open the door. “Well, look who it is,” he said in his usual lazy drawl. “Potty and the Weasel.”


 

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.


 

“I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley,” said Malfoy. “Did your mother die of shock?”


 

Ginny gave him a chilling stare. “I heard your father put Lord Voldemort’s diary into my cauldron last year. I wonder how your vaults must look right about now?”


 

Malfoy seemed not to care about the murderous look he was getting from Ginny. “And who told you that? It’s the first I’m hearing of it. Then again, it was kept very quiet about how you unleashed that terrible monster on Hogwarts. Tell me Weaslette, did you enjoy it?”


 

“Why don’t you ask Dobby?” said Harry.


 

Malfoy drew his wand.


 

“No, that’s enough!” Harry said, standing. He did not bother with a wand. “You’re looking at the guy who killed that basilisk. If I hear of you harassing Ginny again, well just remember that there’s a chamber in Hogwarts that only I can get into.”


 

Malfoy stared at him. “You wouldn’t.”


 

“Stand down you two,” Harry said to Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy’s ever-present bodyguards. “I killed a bloody basilisk, there’s nothing you two could do to help him.”


 

There was definitely fear in Malfoy’s eyes now. “You wouldn’t kill me.”


 

“I never said I would,” Harry said.


 

They stood facing each other for an indefinite length of time, and Harry couldn’t deny some enjoyment at watching the rat squirm.


 

“Who’s that?” Malfoy said, finally breaking the silence.


 

“New teacher,” said Ginny coldly.


 

Malfoy looked at Harry one last time before turning away. “C’mon,” he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.


 

“Harry you didn’t need to do that,” Ginny said sullenly.


 

“Yes I did,” Harry retorted. “I’m sick of his rubbish; having a go at you was a step too far.”


 

“I can look after myself you know,” she protested.


 

Harry sat back down next to her. “Speaking of which, you said Voldemort.”


 

“I wanted him to think I was in control,” Ginny explained.


 

“You didn’t even hesitate,” Harry grinned.


 

“Neither do you,” said Ginny, her jaw set.


 

The rain hammered against the windows as they looked at each other. Harry wasn’t particularly sociable. He got on well enough with the others in his form, but he only really spent time with Ron and Hermione. Ginny was something completely new to him. She was more disciplined than Ron, but not as reserved as Hermione. Maybe it was simpler than that though. Perhaps it was just that this girl shared something with him that they didn’t. She had personally fought Voldemort and come out the other side still standing.


 

“I need your help, Harry,” Ginny whispered. “I’ve got to beat him.”


 

“You said his name,” Harry replied. “You’re already halfway there.”


 

Just then, the train started to slow down. Harry would’ve doubted it, but he could hear the wheels screeching. The sneakoscope was going off again. They got hurriedly to their feet, staring at Harry's trunk with trepidation.


 

“We can’t be there already,” Harry frowned.


 

Ginny poked her head out into the corridor. “I don’t think anyone knows what’s going on.” He could hear the distant chatter of confused students himself.


 

The train ground to a halt. There were muffled thuds as luggage in other carriages fell off the overhead shelves.


 

“I don’t like this,” Ginny muttered.


 

Suddenly, the train was plunged into darkness. Curses resounded up and down the train, including in their carriage.


 

“Shit!” Ginny cried.


 

Harry blinked. It must have been a trick of the light, but he thought the rain water on the window was freezing.


 

Then he noticed that Ginny was staring at him. “You didn’t freak out at all,” she said.


 

“Why would I?” he said. “Do you think we could’ve broken down?”


 

“It’s a magical train.”


 

“It’s stopped in the middle of nowhere.”


 

“Harry...” Ginny said slowly. “There’s something moving out there.” Her wand was in her hand, and Harry took this as his cue to light his own with a Lumos Charm.


 

“Someone coming aboard,” Harry ground out. “Get ready to fight, I’ll try to wake the professor.”


 

Harry shook the man hard by the shoulder, and he jolted awake, grabbing Harry by the arm. “What is it?” Lupin asked in a hoarse voice.


 

Harry pointed to the window. “We’re stopped in the middle of nowhere, the lights all went out and it’s unnaturally cold. Have I missed anything, Ginny?”


 

“I can hear him, Harry,” Ginny whispered despairingly. “He’s in my head, please make him stop!”


 

“Ginny, I’m here. He can’t hurt you,” Harry said firmly. “Look at me.” Ginny’s eyes were full of fear. It didn’t take long for Harry to realise that he was afraid himself, though of what he couldn’t say. He put an arm around her and she hid her head in his chest.


 

“Keep quiet,” Lupin said. He produced some flames in his hand which added to Harry and Ginny’s Wand Lighting Charms. “I’m going to find out what’s going on.”


 

The professor didn’t make it to the door.


 

The compartment door slid slowly open. Harry’s feeling of fear intensified with every second that passed, and he aimed his wand into the opening doorway, every curse and hex he knew flitting through his mind.


 

A hand came slowly into view, its owner apparently opening the door via telekinesis. The hand was much too big to be human, but its size wasn’t what made Harry sick to his stomach. Slickened by some fluid that Harry had no interest in identifying, the hand was grey and glistening, and looked as if it belonged to a corpse. Yet it still moved. When the door was fully open, the hand retreated beneath a cloak. Even the combined light charms could not reveal the face hidden beneath the hood, but it was clear that the thing was huge, brushing the ceiling even as it floated just barely above the floor.


 

Harry was about to cast a flame curse at it when it drew a long, slow, rattling breath. Harry found himself immobilised with cold and fear. That was when he heard the laughter. It was an insane, cackling laughter that chilled Harry to his bones, but that was nothing to what came next. A woman screamed, clearly terrified. She was pleading with someone, begging... The worst thing was that he knew her. He knew both of them, he just couldn’t remember who they were. He was so cold. His vision was starting to go dim.


 

Ginny sobbed into his robes, and he gritted his teeth.


 

Confringo!” Harry yelled. The spell passed right through the creature and blew open the side of the train in a fireball. Harry’s last sight as he slipped out of consciousness was a bright wisp flying towards the creature from behind him.


 

“Harry! Harry! Are you all right?”


 

Someone smacked him.


 

“Harry please wake up!”


 

“W–what?”


 

Harry opened his eyes to find Ginny’s pale, troubled face above him, surrounded by lights. Apparently the lights had come back on after the creatures left.


 

And they were gone.


 

He let out a quiet sigh of relief, and let his head drop back to the floor with a clunk.


 

“Harry, are you okay? What happened?” she asked.


 

“I’m fine. I don’t know, I just remember laughing and screaming. Who was that?”


 

“Well, a good number of people screamed when you blasted the side of the train open,” said Lupin. There was a cracking sound as he started breaking a piece of chocolate.


 

“What?” Harry asked. His memory was getting a little fuzzy.


 

“No ordinary curses can affect dementors,” Lupin said. “The thing you just faced was a dementor from Azkaban. They were searching the train for Sirius Black.”


 

“Then why were they using their powers?” Ginny contested hotly. “If they were only looking, surely they didn’t need to cause all this trouble.”


 

“It is generally believed that a dementor’s normal senses are very weak,” Lupin explained. “They would have been tasting for his soul. I can only assume that after twelve years under their care, it has a familiar flavour.”


 

“They still should’ve sent wizards to look for him,” Ginny said stubbornly. “Everyone’s going to need the hospital wing after that.”


 

“Well, this should help,” Lupin said, offering them chocolate. “I’ve got to help repair the damage you did. Eat it, both of you, it’ll help.”


 

Harry propped himself up on his elbows to get a good look. It was with some pride that he noted the size of the hole that was still smouldering at its edges.


 

“Nice curse, Harry,” Ginny murmured.


 

“Yeah,” said Harry sardonically. “You know how much I love to be the centre of attention.”


 

She snorted quietly, pushing at his shoulder. The chocolate was pretty good, and lying there in the carriage propped up against the bench, with Ginny beside him as the howling winds sprayed them intermittently with fine mists of rainwater made Harry feel incredibly content.


 

“Harry, was that you?!”


 

Hermione was standing in the doorway, as white as Hedwig, with Ron and Neville standing behind her. Ron looked fairly bad, but Neville seemed inches from collapsing.


 

“I should go look for a friend of mine,” said Ginny. “She’ll be having a pretty hard time.”


 

“Ginny,” Harry called as she got to her feet.


 

“Thanks, Harry,” she said demurely.


 

“Hey, I’ll see you later,” he smiled.


 

She blushed and squeaked something before rushing out past a speechless Hermione. The lanterns were all back on now, and the yellowish light made the three of them look even worse.


 

“Might have been, yeah,” Harry sighed.


 

There was the sound of chanting from the corridor, and the three of them came further into the compartment to get out of the way.


 

“Not bad,” Ron praised.


 

“Neville, I ate all the chocolate Professor Lupin gave me, but you should ask him for some, it really helps,” said Harry.


 

The boy seemed to struggle with himself for a moment - his desire for release from his anguish fighting his fear of confrontation. The former won, and he hurried off with a grateful, shaky nod.


 

“I suppose ‘why’ is a stupid question at this point,” Hermione sighed.


 

“You ought to be proud of me, Hermione,” said Harry.


 

“Why’s that?” she asked, exasperated.


 

“I found that spell in a book,” he grinned.


 

Hermione folded her arms and glared at him. “Well you’ll be doing a lot of that this year,” she huffed. “I’m taking all the OWL classes, so I won’t have time to help you two with all your assignments.”


 

“All of them?” said Harry in disbelief.


 

“How?” Ron exclaimed. “Even you can’t be in two places at once!”


 

She muttered something and sat next to Harry, only she chose the bench over the floor.


 

“It’s much nicer up here, you know,” Hermione told him. “Less sweet wrappers.”


 

Harry blushed. “Yeah, well. Yeah.”


 

“Eloquent,” said Hermione, with the barest hint of a smirk. The colour was returning to her face even as the wood was returning to the side of the carriage, which was happening pretty quickly considering how far away and downhill the fragments had been blasted. “Why are you down there, anyway?”


 

“It doesn’t matter,” said Harry. He got up and joined her as Ron sat on his other side.


 

“Those were dementors,” said Ron.


 

“I read about them,” Hermione said, unnecessarily in Harry’s view. She’d read about everything. “They draw upon positive emotions in other life forms, especially humans, and feed upon them. So if you get close to a dementor, you’ll be forced into deeper and deeper depression as all that you can think about are your very worst memories. They have some other abilities that help them do this, like their aura of cold and darkness. If they get the chance, they draw your soul out through your mouth. It's called the Dementor's Kiss.”


 

“Full marks, young lady,” Professor Lupin said from the doorway. The wall was repaired neatly behind him. “But if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and speak with the driver.”


 

“Our worst memories?” said Harry absently.


 

“Bundle of laughs, eh?” said Ron, staring blankly at his own hands.


 

Hermione gave Harry’s hand a tight squeeze. He could see in her eyes that she knew exactly what he had been made to relive.


 

Leaning back in his seat, Harry felt himself drifting away…

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