Chapter Text
“Who do you reckon he is?” Ron hissed, nodding his head at the adult who was asleep in what would be an otherwise empty compartment, if not for the 3 thirteen-year-olds that had just sat down.
The man was dressed in patched wizard robes revealing nothing about the man's bodily structure however he looked quite ill and very exhausted. Even though he looked quite young, younger than Mr. and Mrs. Weasley Harry thought, his hair was flecked with grey.
“Professor R. J. Lupin” Hermione answered after a brief pause. Some part of Harry jumped at that name as if recognising it.
“How do you know that?” Ron replied looking at Hermione with a concerned face.
“It's on his case,” Hermione replied pointing to the luggage rack, where a small battered cate that was being held together by a large quantity of string indeed had Professor R. J. Lupin stamped across in fading letters.
“Wonder what he teaches?” said Ron, looking at the probably ill professor.
“That’s obvious,” whispered Hermione. “There’s only one vacancy, isn’t there? Defence Against the Dark Arts.”
The trio had already had two previous defence against the dark arts teachers. One ended up dead at Harry's hands and the other ended up with karma being served.
“Well, I hope he’s up to it,” said Ron doubtfully. “He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn’t he?”
As the train set off north, Harry stared out the window at the passing countryside not bothering to listen to Ron and Hermione's conversation about sweets and hogsmede. Instead, Harry looked at the passing woodlands, regretting just staying in London during his holidays as he was upset that he couldn’t run around in the forest closest to the Dursleys. He would often hide in there when he was younger to avoid his cousin after school, when ‘Harry hunting’ would be the most active sport in his town. There were stories of wolves in the forest, causing Dudley to avoid it. Making it the best place for Harry to hide. Occasionally, he would be locked out of the house, and so he would spend the night in a small den he made in the roots of an old oak tree. He made a soft bed of dry pine leaves piling it up so there was just enough space for Harry himself. When his family hadn't given him the scraps they occasionally did, Harry learned the hard way that some of the forest plants were edible. Even almost two and a half years after he needed to know, Harry still remembers that young garlic leaves taste better than older ones. And that after a certain age, it's best not to eat nettles as they sting.
The rain that was a small drizzle when they set off eventually thickened as the train sped yet further north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering grey, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.
“We must be nearly there,” said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window, however, Harry could somehow make out the shapes of trees within the darkness.
The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.
“Brilliant,” said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside as Harry was plastered against the other side. “I’m starving, I want to get to the feast ...”
“We can’t be there yet,” said Hermione, checking her pocket watch.
“So why’re we stopping?”
The train was getting slower and. slower... As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain
sounded louder than ever against the windows.
Hermione, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads
were sticking curiously out of their compartments.
The train came to a stop with a jolt and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen
out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.
“What’s going on?” said Ron’s voice from behind Hermione.
The trio felt their way back to the seats, with Ron sitting in where Harry had originally sat.
“D’you think we’ve broken down?”
“Dunno ...”
There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.
“Something is moving out there,” Ron said. “I think people are coming aboard ...”
The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry’s legs. “Hullo! D’you know what’s going on? Ouch! Sorry –”
“Hullo, Neville,” said Harry, looking around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak. “Harry? Is that you? What’s happening?”
“No idea! Sit down –”
There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.
“I’m going to go and ask the driver what’s going on,” came Hermione’s voice. Harry somehow saw her pass him in the pitch black, heard the door slide open again and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain. “Who’s that?”
“Who’s that?”
“Ginny?”
“Hermione?”
“What are you doing?”
“I was looking for Ron –”
“Come in and sit down –”
“Not here!” said Harry hurriedly. “I’m here!”
“Ouch!” said Neville.
“Quiet!” said a hoarse voice suddenly.
Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. Harry could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke.
There was a soft, crackling noise and a shining grey light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of colourless flames. They illuminated his tired grey face, but his amber eyes looked alert and wary.
“Stay where you are,” he said, in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.
But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.
Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the trembling flames in Lupin’s hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry’s eyes darted downwards, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, greyish, slimy-looking and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water ...
It was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry’s gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of the black material. And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it was trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings. An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart ...
Harry’s eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn’t see. He was drowning in the cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downwards, the Howling of wolves from outside the train somehow growing louder...
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And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn’t ... a thick white fog was swirling around him, forcing him to curl into a small ball on his side–
“Harry! Harry! Are you all right?”
Someone was slapping his face.
“W-what?”
Harry opened his eyes. There were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking – the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to him, and above them, he could see Neville and Professor Lupin watching. Harry felt very sick; when he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face.
Ron and Hermione heaved him back onto his seat.
“Are you OK?” Ron asked nervously.
“Yeah,” said Harry, looking quickly towards the door. The hooded creature had vanished.
“What happened? Where’s that – that thing? Who screamed?”
“No one screamed,” said Ron, more nervously still.
Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very
pale.
“But I heard screaming –”
A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces, looking quite concerned as he did so.
“Here,” he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. “Eat it. It’ll help.”
Harry took the chocolate but didn’t eat it, he had questions to ask.
“What was that thing?” he asked Lupin.
“A Dementor,” said Lupin, who was now giving (smaller) pieces of chocolate to everyone else. “One of the Dementors of Azkaban.”
Everyone stared at him. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and shoved it into his pocket.
“Eat,” he repeated. “It’ll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me ...”
He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.
“Are you sure you’re OK, Harry?” said Hermione, watching Harry anxiously.
“I don’t get it ... what happened?” said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.
“Well – that thing – the Dementor – stood there and looked around, I mean, I think it did, I couldn’t see its face – and you – you –”
“We thought you were having a fit or something,” said Ron, who still looked scared. “You went sort of in a trance and fell out of your seat and started curling up –”
“And Professor Lupin stepped over you, walked to the Dementor, and pulled out his wand,” said Hermione. “And he said, ‘None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.’ But the Dementor didn’t move, so Lupin muttered something and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned round and sort of glided away ...”
“It was horrible,” said Neville, in a higher voice than usual.
“Did you feel how cold it went when it came in?”
“I felt weird,” said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. “Like I’d never be cheerful again ...”
Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harry felt, gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.
“But didn’t any of you – fall off your seats?” said Harry awkwardly.
“No,” said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry again. “Ginny was shaking like mad, though ...”
Harry didn’t understand. He felt weak and shivery, as though he was recovering from a bad bout of flu; he also felt the beginnings of shame. Why had he gone to pieces like that, when no one else had?
Professor Lupin had come back. He paused as he entered, looked around and said, with a huff and a small smile, “I haven’t poisoned that chocolate, you know ...”
Harry took a bite and to his great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes.
“We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes,” said Professor Lupin. “Are you all right, Harry?”
Harry didn’t ask how Professor Lupin knew his name.
“Fine,” he muttered, embarrassed.
They didn’t talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get out; owls hooted, cats miaowed, and Neville’s pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.
The students hurried out of the train, seeking refuge from the cold rain. As they made their way to the carriages pulled by skeletal horses, Harry couldn't shake off the eerie feeling that the encounter with the Dementor had left him. He walked with Ron, Hermione, and the others, silently contemplating the mysterious events on the train.
The castle loomed ahead, its windows lit warmly, a stark contrast to the dark and stormy night. The Great Hall welcomed them with its enchanted ceiling, displaying a starry sky despite the raging storm outside. Harry, Ron, and Hermione found their usual seats at the Gryffindor table. The events of the evening weighed heavily on Harry's mind, and he couldn't focus on the delicious feast laid out before him.
After the Sorting Hat's song, Dumbledore stood up to address the students. His eyes twinkled (author here!: ✨✨✨✨) with a mix of wisdom and concern.
"I'm sure many of you are wondering about the Dementor attack on the train," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing through the hall. "Rest assured, we are taking every precaution to keep you safe within these walls. Hogwarts is your home, and we will do everything in our power to protect you."
Despite Dumbledore's reassuring words, Harry couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that had settled in his chest. He exchanged a worried glance with Ron and Hermione, knowing that this year at Hogwarts would be unlike any other they had experienced before.
As the feast came to an end and the students made their way to their respective common rooms, Harry couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead. The mystery of Sirius Black, the presence of Dementors, and the unsettling events on the train hinted at a dark and dangerous year at Hogwarts.
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Staring out the window, the last thing Harry sees before he falls asleep is the constellation, Canis Major.