Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Chapter 7: A Question of Blood

“Have you seen Luna?” Harry asked Ginny as they re-boarded the Hogwarts Express. Harry had kept an eye out for the enigmatic Ravenclaw, but hadn’t caught a glimpse of her.

Ginny shook her head. “I wanted to thank her also,” she admitted sheepishly. “I still think what she did was incredible.”

“Daphne seemed to have an idea of what she might be, but she didn’t elaborate. Whatever she is, they are extremely rare,” Harry explained. They looked through the cabins, searching for the one that Hermione had claimed. Finally, Harry spotted his friend’s distinctive hair. Sliding the door open, Harry saw Hermione sitting on one side reading their new Defense textbook. On the other side, apparently asleep, was a pale, exhausted-looking man with graying brown hair and worn robes.

“Who’s that?” Ginny asked quietly.

Hermione pointed towards his battered briefcase. “R.J. Lupin,” she read clearly. Ginny nodded and sat down beside her.

“I guess he must be the new Defense teacher,” Ginny surmised. Harry already knew that, but simply nodded. “Looks like he had a rough night.”

I’m guessing he did, Harry thought. If I remember correctly, last night was a full moon. Daphne had told him not to let anyone else know about his Lycanthropy, simply for the sake of respecting her old friend’s privacy, so he thought it best to play along.

“Any reason you chose this cabin, Hermione?” Harry asked curiously.

Hermione shrugged. “Is anyone in his or her right mind going to start trouble in the same car as a professor?” Ginny asked rhetorically.

Harry smiled in agreement then noticed Ginny seemed anxious to talk about something. “What is it Ginny?” he asked.

The redhead seemed surprised that he had noticed. “I just wanted to know more about Luna,” she admitted. “You’ve got to admit it’s strange for a girl to find out that her childhood friend healed the Boy-Who-Lived when no one else could.”

“Ginny, never call me that again. It’s just ridiculous, and misleading, to say the least.” Harry appreciated the advantages of his fame, but he despised his moniker. It was born of ignorance and placed the responsibility for the fall of Voldemort on his shoulders, when it had in reality been his mother’s sacrifice that had saved the wizarding world. Someday, I will make my own destiny. Legends based in truth will be told, he reminded himself.

“Why…oh…” Ginny said, remembering how he had corrected the legend the previous year. “Right, you wouldn’t have lived if not for your Mum…sorry…”

Harry waved it off. Then he noticed something rather odd beneath Hermione’s seat. A pair of annoyed-looking eyes shined brightly from the darkness. “Hermione, did you buy a pet?” he asked curiously.

Ginny giggled, and Hermione jumped. “What? Oh, you mean Crookshanks?” she asked. Reaching underneath her seat, she pulled out the large carrier, with noticeable effort, and whispered something affectionate before letting the animal out. Harry found himself staring into the squashed face of a large ginger cat. It purred loudly as Hermione scratched it behind the ears, but stared suspiciously at Harry. Looks like a Kneazle, Harry thought. Kneazles were related to cats, but had sharper senses, lived longer, and tended to be very good at sensing trouble.

“Oh, he’s adorable,” Ginny gushed, beckoning the cat into her lap. She began running her fingers through its thick fur as it purred happily. Harry looked skeptical and Ginny scowled at him. “I like cats,” she said by way of explanation.

Harry shrugged and turned to Hermione, who looked thrilled about something.

“Aren’t you excited for Hogsmeade?” she asked. “It’s one of the oldest wizarding villages in Britain. I’m sure you know about the Goblin Rebellion that was headquartered there in 1638, Professor Binns said that it was one of the biggest ever…”

“Hermione,” Harry interrupted her. She stopped in mid-rant.

“What?”

Harry stared at her. “Do you honestly believe that Daphne would give me permission to go outside the Hogwarts wards with Sirius Black on the loose?”

Hermione blushed slightly. “Oh, I’m sorry…I should have thought of that…”

“Daphne wouldn’t sign your permission form?” Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head. It hadn’t been a very long argument. Harry clearly understood why it was a bad idea. Black knew the grounds and the village very well, and Harry would be most vulnerable away from the wards and teachers. Black wasn’t stupid; he wouldn’t ambush his target unless he could get him alone.

“Are you worried about Black?” Hermione asked, sounding concerned. “I read up on him, and the man seems horrible. He’s a mass murderer.”

Harry just barely restrained himself from wincing. He’d made up his mind that he wouldn’t acknowledge that Black was his Godfather. His past history, on the other hand… “He betrayed my parents,” Harry said darkly. “Do either one of you know what the Fidelus Charm is?”

Ginny shook her head, but Hermione looked up in surprise. “He was their Secret Keeper?” Hermione asked nervously. Harry simply nodded, staring out the window. Ginny looked confused, and Hermione quickly explained how the Charm worked. By the end of the explanation Ginny looked nervous, too..

As she opened her mouth to ask a question, the door to the cabin slid open. Harry tensed, expecting a visit from either Ron Weasley or Draco Malfoy. It was neither. Instead, Blaise Zabini stood in the doorway, wearing a curious smile. “Potter,” he said. He greeted Ginny and Hermione similarly Then nodded his head towards the older man. “That our new Defense Professor?” he asked.

“He is,” Harry said. Hermione’s puzzled look made him aware that he might have said that with a little too much conviction.

“What do you want, Zabini?” he asked pointedly. He was in no mood to play games with his classmate. Truth be told, he was tired. Damn Dobby and his wakeup calls. Harry remembered that he wouldn’t escape the overeager House-Elf at Hogwarts, and his mood became even worse.

“Well, I wanted to ask if I might sit with you. Somehow I got stuck in a train car with Pansy Parkinson and Tracey Davis.” He made a disgusted face and Ginny snorted back a laugh. “Needless to say, I have little to discuss with them. For a Parkinson Magical Heir, Pansy sure comes off as petulant. She and Malfoy are perfect for each other.” He smirked. Zabini was one of those Slytherins that could express about twenty different emotions with a smirk.

Harry had to admit that between Zabini’s show of concern for his well being this summer and his seemingly innocent motives now, he didn’t mind spending some time with the boy. He was like Nott: they both knew a great deal about their classmates. Zabini talked more than Nott though, that was for sure. Theodore seemed perfectly happy to exchange a word or two with Greengrass and spend the rest of the time eavesdropping silently.

“Fine,” Harry decided. “If that’s alright with you?” he asked Hermione and Ginny. Ginny shrugged, and Hermione made a non-committal gesture. Clearly, neither felt strongly one-way or the other.

Zabini smiled. “Good to hear.” He took a seat down on Hermione’s side of the cabin. At the pureblood’s odd behavior, Harry raised an eyebrow. Hermione noticed and gave him something that might have been a glare. Harry ignored it, knowing that she’d figure out what he’d meant in a moment.

Zabini shrugged. “Our family has never freely married with Muggles or Muggleborns, but we’re somewhat less…severe than others are. I certainly think you’ve proved your worth. Wouldn’t you agree, Granger?”

Hermione huffed indignantly. “I shouldn’t even have to. The pureblood prejudices are just ridiculous. Muggleborns are worth the same as purebloods. We aren’t all ignorant fools.”

If there was one thing Harry had learned about his Gryffindor friend, it was that she did not take kindly to prejudices, of any kind. It was a value that had probably been learned, rather than instilled in her by her parents. Harry still remembered Mr. Granger’s rather insensitive and thoughtless remarks about the primitiveness of wizards, specifically, their acceptance of violence as a way of settling disputes. He seemed to look down on wizards, or perhaps he’d simply been a bit uncomfortable, it was difficult to tell. Harry realized he knew next to nothing about Hermione’s mother, and probably should make such assumptions. For all I know, her mother is dedicated to fighting social injustice…

“I wasn’t implying that you were. The Zabinis are proud of their blood and their ancestry, but we don’t carry the same disdain of Muggleborns as the Malfoys or the Bullstrodes. We certainly don’t hate them.” Harry did not like the way this conversation was going. Zabini would be a good ally, and forcing him to defend his family’s ideals was not the ideal way to accomplish that.

“Hermione, you have to understand that while it may seem barbaric to you for people to judge others on the basis of blood, that is something that is and has been accepted in the wizarding world for generations. You don’t have to agree with it, but it isn’t fair to attack Blaise for it.”

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the Black boy. Zabini smirked. “Don’t Muggles have all kinds of problems with racism? Wizards aren’t judged based on the color of their skin.”

Hermione’s eyes were blazing. She had been inviting that, but just as it wasn’t fair for Blaise to represent all purebloods, Hermione was not a representative of Muggles and Muggleborns everywhere. “Alright, both of you, stop it,” Harry growled.

Hermione still looked irritated. Blaise leaned back lazily, which seemed to further annoy her. “Knock it off Zabini.”

The boy scowled at him but didn’t respond. “I trust you thought about my warning, Potter,” he said. Both of his friends, who didn’t know about his meeting with Zabini, looked up in surprise.

“What warning?” Ginny asked suspiciously.

“You didn’t tell them?” Zabini asked with amusement. “Well, Potter is becoming the subject of pureblood Floo Calls everywhere. He should feel quite honored.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione asked. Harry felt she was being unusually protective of him. I suppose that is to be expected…

“He means that the purebloods find me interesting,” Harry explained. “It’s only to be expected, considering who I am and what I’ve done. I’m above average in power and advanced in skill, and that’s enough to intrigue them. One thing that you need to understand about purebloods is that they are most interested in power. Not personal power or glory, but in power of others. By allying with powerful wizards and witches, they benefit themselves.”

Zabini nodded in approval. “Well said. I simply advised Potter that he had a chance to gain support, and that he needed to avoid showing signs of weakness. Being unconscious for several months qualifies as ‘weakness’.”

“But that wasn’t his fault!” Hermione protested vehemently. “He was badly injured, what do you expect him to do, get right back up from having his mind ripped to shreds?” Her voice was almost hysterical now. Harry sent her a glare to quiet her, she’d already said too much.

“Do you think that matter to them?” Harry asked her. “They don’t care if I got hit by the Hogwarts Express; they were disappointed that I had managed to nearly get myself killed.”

“Why do care so much about the purebloods?” Ginny asked.

Zabini scoffed. “You’re a pureblood, why do you think?”

Ginny glared at him. “Weasleys have intermarried often.” Turning back to Harry, she said. “Why do you need their approval? You’re just thirteen!”

Zabini was staring at him intently, and Harry cursed silently as he realized that he’d been backed into a corner. Damn Slytherins. “Because I want to be a leader,” Harry offered. “It’s expected of me, and its something that I want to do. I’m in Slytherin for a reason, and it’s not because I’m particularly sneaky or cunning.” It was something he’d begun to accept about halfway through the previous year, as if he’d anticipated the Prophecy. He’d come to Hogwarts just hoping to be accepted. He still wasn’t sure if he’d accomplished that to the extent that he wanted, but his priorities had been set much higher in the past two years.

Hermione frowned, but said nothing. Zabini smirked in a way that clearly said he wasn’t satisfied by that answer. Ginny still looked puzzled. “Don’t you care about the Muggleborns and half-bloods? They are certainly important as well.”

“Of course they are,” Harry agreed, “but it’s much easier for a Light-affiliated half-blood to gain their approval than the Dark purebloods.”

Ginny frowned. “Dark purebloods?”

Harry barely resisted an urge to scream. The Weasleys meant well, but when Ginny said they didn’t care much for pureblood politics, they weren’t kidding. The entire family saw little or no difference between a Dark wizard and Death Eater. “They aren’t all followers of Voldemort, Ginny. They practice wilder, more dangerous, but in most cases, powerful types of magic. Other families are unaligned, like the Zabinis. Correct, Blaise?”

The boy nodded. “It amazes me how many people assume that because my mother is a Dark witch, we’re chummy with Death Eaters. We left England during the First War because of Death Eaters.”

“So you ran away?” a dreadfully unwelcome voice spat. Harry felt his wrist cock almost unconsciously. The urge to hex Ron Weasley was becoming overwhelming. The always-unwelcome redhead had just appeared outside the compartment door, his arms crossed over his chest. He was obviously looking for a fight, or at least a chance to harass Harry. And I don’t plan to give him anything of the kind.

“We were more interested in our survival than anything else, yes,” Zabini replied evenly. “Seems like a rather intelligent way to go about things, doesn’t it?”

“If you’re a slimy Slytherin,” Weasley spat. Harry still refused to look at him. He couldn’t see Ginny, as he was currently staring out the window, but he was sure she was fuming.

“Ron, do you have anything useful to contribute to this conversation?” Ginny asked in a poisonously sweet voice. “Or are you just here to make an arse of yourself in front of a teacher.”

“What teach…oh, blimey!” he exclaimed. Harry finally looked up. Ron was accompanied by Seamus and Dean, but surprisingly, Fred and George were with them. The twins did not look happy with Harry but he wasn’t sure how much he cared, either. They wouldn’t dare prank him, not when Ginny had her mother’s ear.

“Leave,” Harry said coldly.

“Make me, you bloody evil git!” he hissed. “I spent two months in the Hospital Wing because of you, and you are going to pay for that!” It was a very Gryffindor-ish comment.

All guts and no brains. Ron really did give them a bad name. “I have no interest in giving you further reason to drag my name through the mud,” Harry replied. “Though I find it ironic that one with Godric’s legendary bravery resorts to rumors and gossip to fight his battles.”

“Maybe you ought to brew a potion to fix your brain,” Ginny growled.

Ron paled. “Come on, let’s go,” he said hurriedly, walking away quickly.

Fred and George had already gone, apparently uninterested in what was going on. Dean and Seamus followed their friend. Zabini eyed him with a calculating expression. He whistled. “Got some dirt on Weasley, do you?”

Harry simply nodded. It was obvious that Ron’s blunder with the Polyjuice Potion might benefit him more than he originally thought. While his Head of House wouldn’t be happy that he’d withheld important information, he’d certainly not waste an opportunity to decrease the school population of Weasleys. The fact that Ron made his dislike of Snape obvious to anyone with the ability to hear nearly every class would probably contribute to that as well. And you’ve still got leverage on the Head Girl, he reminded himself. Ginny had written that Percy wouldn’t shut up about the fact that the two of them had been awarded the titles, and the special rooms that came with them.

Percy Weasley was an interesting young man. Unlike most of the Weasleys, he showed genuine ambition and desire to reach a high position of leadership. He was a stickler for the rules and a model student. While he clashed often with his brothers, Harry suspected that Percy was likely to surpass the rest of his family. Percy’s opinion of Harry was not particularly favorable.

After Bill, I think Ginny has the best chance of success, Harry thought. The twins may be magical geniuses and quite powerful, but I doubt they’ll ever devote themselves to anything the average wizard would consider worthwhile…though they might be damn good at designing weaponry. It’s basically the same thing as what they are doing, only more dangerous.

“So, Weasley,” Zabini said oft-handedly. “Planning to try out for the Quidditch team?”

Ginny glanced up in surprise, but narrowed her eyes. “What do you have to say about it?” she asked snappishly. It was readily apparent that Harry was getting along much better with Zabini than either of his best friends. Hermione was still thinking about his prejudices, and Ginny didn’t seem that impressed either. Harry was finding Zabini to be interesting company. He’d never gotten along poorly with him, but never talked much with his classmate either.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he replied. “Chaser, I’m guessing?”

“ Flint didn’t fail again, then?” Harry asked.

Zabini shrugged. “I wouldn’t bet on it, but I don’t think he’s allowed to attend Hogwarts for another year…sounds like you’re relieved about that.”

Harry nodded. “I’m assuming Pucey will be Captain this year. Nothing can be worse than Flint. I still shiver at the memory of some of those practices.” Flint had gained a reputation of being either completely ignorant of weather or so focused on his only area of competence that he simply didn’t care when the team was practicing in the freezing rain with howling winds.

Hermione was now engrossed in her book, while Ginny was alternating staring out the window and paying attention to the conversation. “Think he’ll be any good?” Zabini asked, jerking a thumb in the direction of Lupin.

“Can he be worse than Lockhart?” Harry asked.

“Probably not,” Hermione said, still not looking up.

Zabini grinned evilly. “Pretty strong words for a girl who fancied him last year.”

Hermione’s head shot up like a whip. “What?”

He just smirked at her, and Hermione’s cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. “You know what I’m talking about. You weren’t quite as bad as a few of the Slytherin girls, but I could see the expression on your face. Potter here got you straightened up though.”

“And thank Merlin for that,” Harry mumbled under his breath. Ginny snorted.

“You know, Potter, you really ought to spend more time with the rest of the school. People kind of wonder why you spend so much time with these two,” Zabini said, completely changing the subject. By design or not, it was very disconcerting.

“Why does he need to do that?” Hermione snapped. “Are you implying that we are not good enough friends?”

“Hermione, what are you talking about?” Ginny asked. “I really think you are being a bit harsh on him.”

Hermione just glared. Clearly, getting Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini to like each other wasn’t going to be that easy. Harry decided to tackle Zabini’s question, which was certainly a legitimate concern. While it was doubtful that he would be able to do anything to earn true respect from adult wizards, pureblood or otherwise at the age of thirteen, the same was certainly not true of wizarding children. And Harry had to admit that, though it wasn’t really his fault, he had done very little to socialize outside his two best friends.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Blaise,” Harry said, trying out the boy’s given name for the first time. Blaise raised an eyebrow slightly, but otherwise didn’t react. He was clearly practiced at hiding his true emotions. It was something that Harry knew he had to work on.

“Oh, one other thing,” he said, leaning towards Harry. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew. To be perfectly honest, Potter, your fame only goes so far. Most adult wizards aren’t going to regard you as anything close to equal, pureblood or not. You haven’t demonstrated anything truly exceptional.”

Harry had to admit that the boy was correct, and began to reassess a few of his earlier plans. Even Daphne didn’t seem to be anticipating advising him this year.

Abruptly, Harry realized just how important his vast reserves of magical power really were. Beyond simply being able to wield tremendous power, if Daphne had been accurate in her earlier assessment, he might someday rival Dumbledore or Voldemort in magical prowess. And that was the central issue. While at this point his power was a weakness because of his inability to control it, the sooner he could wield it, the better. It’s ironic. Riddle nearly got me and number of others killed, yet the power he left behind might make it possible for me to defeat his future self…not that I would repeat the experience.

Harry was certain of that.

“Lost in your thoughts, Harry?” Blaise asked curiously. Harry resisted the urge to jump and simply cocked his head in the boy’s direction. Blaise’s gaze was not accusatory, nor particularly suspicious. It was a look of genuine curiosity. Fortunately, Harry knew that the chances that Blaise wasn’t still testing him were rather low. He’d been vaguely aware of the boy’s motives from the beginning. It was clear he wasn’t here because he needed companionship. Though that doesn’t mean the two of us cannot be close friends. There’s something about him that I like a great deal. We can certainly be allies.

No, Harry believed that Blaise had approached him for the same reason that the purebloods cared about him: He was the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry normally disliked those who judged him or assessed his worth based upon his fame. But Blaise was no ‘groupie.’ Blaise was attempting to gather an estimation of his capabilities, to understand his beliefs and ideas about his future in the wizarding world. Harry could not honestly say he knew what Blaise thought about him right now. I would like to think I’ve either lived up to or even surpassed his expectations. But based on the fact that twice he’s criticized me, once on my lack of contact with the student body, once accusing me of shooting too high.

Harry knew that in Blaise Zabini, he had a useful gauge as to how the rest of the school viewed him. It lay somewhere in between Hermione and Ginny’s adoration and Ron’s hatred. His quest was to find out exactly where in the middle the others lay. For it was their opinions that mattered most. My destiny can be viewed as blessing or a curse. Perhaps it terminates what was left of my childhood, but it is also a motivation to pursue greater and higher things.

Abruptly, Blaise rose to his feet. “I’ve got a few other things to check on,” he announced. “Nice speaking with you, Potter.”

Harry was a bit surprised that the boy was leaving, but it was his choice to make. He nodded politely. Blaise left.

Hermione instantly pounced on him. “Spill it. What in God’s name have you been up to?” she demanded angrily. Clearly, she had been just been being considerate when she’d ceased her protests. “Why on earth do you care about Dark wizards? And mind, I’m not saying they are evil gits and you are insane to even think about meeting them, but I have to ask: What are you trying to accomplish?”

From the look in Ginny’s eyes, the younger redhead was thinking along the same lines.

Harry felt like he was being x-rayed. “I…well, I’m trying to start building alliances.”

“That’s all well and good, Harry, but you’re thirteen,” Ginny reminded him, looking at him suspiciously. “You never showed this much initiative before.

“And that was a mistake!” Harry burst out, frustrated. This entire thing could be explained away by telling them what he knew of the Prophecy, but that obviously was not possible. It would place them and the information itself in far too much danger.

Hermione shook her head in confusion. “Why now?”

Harry took a deep breath. He was in a tough spot. He needed to somehow alleviate the concerns of his two best friends without revealing the forbidden knowledge. You were Sorted into Slytherin for a reason, Potter, he reminded himself. You can do this. They’ll understand later.

Harry had no doubt of that. Hermione and Ginny might be upset that he had deceived them, but both would understand why. After the previous year, both understood what was at stake. “Last year was a wakeup call of sorts,” he explained, “it’s not that you two aren’t observant enough, but one of the reasons that Tom was able to possess me the way he did was because he played upon my doubts and my isolation. Don’t get me wrong, you two are the best friends a boy could ask for.” Hermione’s cheeks were a bit pink, and Ginny ducked her head. “I mean it. But I’m vulnerable if I stay that way. I need to start making inroads with the rest of the wizarding world, no matter who it is.”

Hermione obviously wasn’t satisfied. “Why?”

Harry blew out a deep breath. “Because like it or not, the wizarding world expects a lot from me. They expect their Boy-Who-Lived to be powerful and strong. They don’t understand why I survived, so they assume there’s something special about me. They think me destined for greatness. And as nice as it would be to tell them to sod off, I can’t do that. Maybe I can’t live up to their superhuman dreams, but I can be a strong leader, and I want to be. But I’ve gotten off to a terrible start.”

Ginny looked thoughtful. “Do really feel you owe the wizarding world something? Wouldn’t it be the other way around?”

Harry shrugged. This explanation, which was partially based in truth, seemed to be working well enough. “To an extent. It isn’t just about them, though. It’s something I want…I’d love it if you two could stand with me. I’m not trying to run for Minister, I’m just trying to be more of a public figure with the student body. The adult-wizards won’t listen to me if their children view me as some sort of recluse.”

“That makes sense,” Hermione admitted. “I’ve certainly heard people say they wonder why you only spend time with the two of us.” She looked him straight in the eyes, and Harry had to fight back a flinch. “I’ll help you with this if this is what you really want.”

“All I really need is simply to be more social, to be around and get to know some of the other students. I don’t need either of you to do anything; it’s probably better if it doesn’t look deliberate. Just understand that I won’t spend all of my time with you. It might be a good idea for the two of you to get to know other people as well.”

Ginny looked slightly guilty. “I really ignored Anne and Melissa most of last year after they helped me get settled in,” she admitted.

Hermione winced. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Most of the school isn’t that fond of me…”

“Then work to change that,” Harry urged her, pleased with the way he’d managed to divert her attention yet have a constructive conversation. “Show them you aren’t dependent on me. You are a strong and intelligent witch, Hermione. Let them know that.”

“Though I’d suggest not being so vocal in class,” Ginny said earnestly. “We all know how bright you are, but people think you are trying to show off. What do Muggles call it?”

“Hog the spotlight,” Hermione supplied. She blushed slightly. “I suppose I do have a few things to work on.”

“Well, then it’s settled,” Ginny said, smiling. “We’ll all try to break out of our little hermitage and get to know some people.”

As the conversation turned to much lighter topics, Harry strangely began to feel even more anxious. He felt colder all of a sudden, as if someone had cast a Cooling Charm. He was also sweating a bit. He glanced nervously out the window, searching the darkness for potential threats. He saw nothing, just the rain splattering off the windows of the train.

Abruptly, the train began to slow, and Harry felt his pulse racing. Something is wrong. Hermione and Ginny began looking around in confusion. Harry stared out the window as the train slowed to a dead halt. He could hear commotion from both sides as confused students tried to figure out what was going on. He thought he heard Percy yelling for them to get back inside their compartments.

“What-” Ginny began as the lights flickered, then went out. Harry realized that the temperature in the cabin had dropped dramatically. Frost was beginning to spread across the compartment window, and Harry thought he saw something moving outside. He felt a bead of sweat on his forehead. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Harry shushed his friend, and he and Hermione continued to peer out the cabin window. They still were examining the blackness when the door to the cabin clicked open. Harry spun, his wand already in his hand. “Lumos,” he breathed.

The creature in the doorway retreated momentarily, but the light faded out of its own accord, the terrifying shadow devouring the magic with a hungry desperation, like a starved beast. Still, Harry had gotten a close enough look at it to know exactly what it was. His blood ran cold. The creature was suspended about three centimeters off the ground, its torn and shredded robes flowing as if in a strong breeze. Under the hood was a face hidden in shadow, a gaping maw where its mouth should have been.

Memories began to run past him. Horrific memories. The creature turned towards him. He unconsciously fought the pull on his mind with his unrefined Occlumency, but the creature pushed past the barriers, drawing his worst memories forward, savoring the moments of fear, anguish, and pain.

Voldemort’s lips curled into an evil smile, his eyes sparkling with malice. “Let us test that resolve. He raised his wand in the direction of the girl floated lifelessly in the air, looking like a puppet hanging on a string. Her eyes were shut, and a trickle of blood slid down to the floor from a bloody bump on the back of her head. Harry was frozen in fear, the Philosopher’s Stone in his robe pocket digging into his side. “Abrumpo!” the two-faced man hissed

The curse hit Hermione square. It penetrated deeply, and her stomach exploded in a shower of crimson as Voldemort laughed manically…

…Hermione frantically scrambled around for her wand as Harry advanced towards her down the corridor, twirling his wand absently in his fingertips. Hermione tried to pull herself to her feet, and stood up shakily. She quavered in his gaze, her mouth moving but no sound coming out. Her brown eyes were wide with terror.

“Dear, dear…I’m afraid that Harry will miss you deeply…but I’m saddened to say that you know too much. Knowledge can be deadly, you see?” he whispered maliciously, calling to mind the perfect curse to end the insolent Mudblood’s life.

Hermione raised her wand, but it was clear she was completely defenseless. He grinned widely, leveling his wand at her forehead.

“Mentis Mortis!” he cried. A jet of yellowish light exploded from the end of his wand. It connected with the girl’s forehead, and for an instant, her head was surrounded by an eerie halo of gold. Then it vanished, and she slumped to the ground. Harry cackled with glee…

…Harry grabbed Ginny into a brutal embrace, forcing her hands behind her back. The terrified redhead struggled, then seemed incapacitated by terror. Her wide, frightened brown eyes gazed in horror at him as he forced her head upwards, summoning his wand from Snape and aiming his recaptured prize at the alabaster column of his hostage’s throat…

…Daphne’s eyes lit with malice, her fury buckling her mental shields for an instant before they shattered. Her hair flew behind her in the wind created by the outpouring of magic. Her skin was drawn tightly to her face, her mouth contorted in a vindictive sneer. Harry took a step back, but it was too late.

“CRUCIO!” she shrieked. Harry felt his body catch fire, his blood boiling in his veins. Thousands of burning knives stabbed into his flesh, ripping his guts open. He writhed in agony, a scream of agony torn from his throat. He scratched and clawed at the ground, staring through the haze of pain at his guardian in shock and betrayal…

Harry barely heard the whimpers of his friends as they relived the horrors of their lives. Hermione begged Harry for forgiveness as she recalled mistakenly giving him the poison. She weakly cried for help as she saw his body slammed into the wall by the troll’s club, his bones snapping with sickening cracks. Ginny whimpered as Tom assaulted her mind, crushing her resistance and forcing her into unconsciousness…

Harry felt the darkness enveloping his vision. He saw a flash of light, and a man yell something he couldn’t understand. He felt himself falling back, both towards the ground and in his mind, and heard a woman’s scream.

Then everything went black…

He’d still been pondering the answers to those questions when he’d felt the cabin temperature plummet. He’d gone dormant, what little strength he had remaining from his transformation drained by the presence of the Dementor. When he’d heard the stifled scream from the small girl on the seat near him, he’d exploded into action. He stood tall before the Dementor, his inner wolf snarling in rage as it attempted to penetrate his mind. He raised his battered oak and dragon heart-string wand, summoned memories of Harry’s father and cast the only charm he knew of that affected a Dementor.

“None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks! Leave!” he ordered the creature.

It struggled momentarily against Remus Lupin’s Patronus, waves of pure light washing over it, causing it pain. Finally, with a ghastly shriek of frustration, it fled. All over the train, the Dementors finished their search, and Lupin watched as the lights flickered and then re-illuminated the train. With a groan of stressed metal, the old train began to move once more, picking up speed.

Remus knew that it was his duty to check on the engineer and calm the students, but he felt he first needed to aid the three unconscious children in his cabin. Harry lay sprawled on the floor where he had fallen, his wand still gripped tightly in his hand. A small redhead was slumped against her seat a few feet away from him, her face pale. Across the compartment, a girl with bushy brown hair was groaning as she came to. She blinked in confusion, then stared with alarm as Remus.

“Calm down,” he urged her. “That was a Dementor, it’s gone now, and it can’t hurt you.”

“Professor Lupin?” she asked softly, her eyes half-closed as she shifted into a sitting position. She answered Remus’s questioning look by pointing at his briefcase, where his initials were clearly visible. He nodded. The girl looked nervous as she shifted her gaze from James’s son to her redheaded friend. “Will Harry and Ginny be alright?” she asked.

Remus nodded. The redhead was indeed Bill’s sister, Ginny. He pulled his briefcase down and opened it, searching for something. Hermione looked at him curiously, but he found what he was looking for and pulled out the bar of chocolate. He broke off a piece and offered to Hermione. “Chocolate; it will get your blood flowing and warm you up. Trust me.”

She accepted and chewed cautiously. Remus fought back a frown. Dementors were foul creatures, hated by almost every living wizard. Children were normally quite shaken after their first encounter with one. But the fact that all three students had passed out told him something unsettling. All three have been through truly harrowing experiences. Life or death situations that none of them should have been a part of.

Remus took a small bite of the chocolate. Hermione’s head shot up from the noise as he broke off a piece, and he smiled reassuringly at her. She blushed slightly and seemed to be berating herself. Obviously, she was still on edge.

Ginny was stirring now. Remus broke off another piece and fed it to her as soon as she was lucid. Her color improved almost immediately. Her eyes immediately went to Harry. A thought crossed Remus’s mind that with green eyes, she might have been mistaken for a young Lily Evans. Of course, he thought in amusement, Lily would hardly be showing this much concern for James at this age.

Remus walked over and gently picked up Harry, laying him flat on the seats. Hermione got up to help him. When he finally awoke, Remus was amazed by the likeness to his father, at least until he opened Lily’s eyes. He’d seen Harry as a baby, but he’d never imagined that from his body type, to his glasses, to his hair, to his facial structure, the two would be identical. “Harry,” he said quietly, “are you alright?”

The boy blinked in confusion. Then he closed his eyes and reopened them, seeming to understand where he was. “Remus?” he asked in confusion. Lupin nodded. Harry began to push himself into a sitting position as Remus went back to get a piece of chocolate. As he did, he noticed Hermione staring at her friend in confusion.

“How did you know…”

“Harry, are you alright?” Ginny cut her off, seeming to come to her senses for the first time. She hurried over and sat down next to him. Hermione frowned at being interrupted, but waited for Harry’s answer. The boy blinked again.

“I’m fine…just a little rattled.” Remus offered him the chocolate and Harry took it without seeming to think about it much. “That was a Dementor, right?” he asked Remus.

“Yes…I’m surprised you knew that,” he admitted.

Harry shrugged, straightening up in his seat. “I read a lot.”

Hermione glanced at her watch. “We’ll be there soon; we should change.”

Harry nodded. “I’ve got my robes with me; Daphne shrunk them. You two go get yours.”

“And I’ll check on the rest of the students,” Remus said, getting up to leave. “I’ll talk to you later Mr. Potter.”

Harry nodded, looking a bit confused that Remus had chosen to be more formal at this moment. The man had to admit that Harry’s confusion was understandable. Still, Remus knew that in his role of Hogwarts professor, he couldn’t afford to have a visible special relationship with the Boy-Who-Lived. Any excuse would be enough to have him sacked. Dumbledore is taking a risk for me, and I won’t waste my opportunity.

Remus took one last look at the three children, and then left. He saw many students peeking out of the compartments. A harassed-looking redhead was telling one of them off. He stopped when he saw Remus.

“I’m the new Defense professor. What’s going on here?”

“Merlin, am I glad to see you. I’m the Head Boy, Percy Weasley,” he said gratefully.

Unable to detect his less complex emotions, the Dementors instead made for the abundance of young, happy souls on board the train. Sirius knew that they would be guarding Hogwarts as well. He didn’t think it would be that difficult to evade them, using the passages he knew as a Marauder and the Forbidden Forest. Bane owed him a favor, and would tolerate his presence. Even if he didn’t believe his innocence, he wouldn’t care. Sirius could use the Forest and the Shrieking Shack at his leisure. He’d just have to be cautious and not take risks. He would get Harry alone, and either convince him to come or kidnap him, (though he wanted to avoid the latter.) Then he’d find one of the Black homes and settle down. Harry would learn to accept him, and he’d use the Black wealth to make him happy and keep them both fed and watered. He’d figure out where to go next after that.

I’m coming Harry. And no one is going to stop me.

Harry was eternally grateful that Blaise had not seen him pass out from the presence of the Dementor. While it was certainly understandable considering his youth and horrifying past experiences, it would have been both embarrassing and a further example of ‘weakness’ that he had been warned about.

The students were still chattering in hushed voices as they got off the train and boarded the carriages. Harry saw that most of the First Years looked absolutely terrified, probably from a combination of anxiety and the presence of the Dementors. He smiled at a short, scared-looking boy, who brightened a bit at the sight of him. He whispered something to the girl next to him, but she didn’t react as her eyes locked on the towering form of Hagrid. Harry gave the half-giant a wave and the man waved back excitedly. He looked around for Professor Lupin, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

He found his friends in the crowd, and the three of them made their way to the parked carriages. Harry pondered the scream that he had heard before he passed out.

Then it hit him like a Bludgeoning Curse.

His nightmares…

His mother.