"But-," Hermione was interrupted by a feeling of cold washed over her, something she hadn't felt since the train ride to Hogwarts. She tore her eyes off of Frank and into the sky to see hundreds of dementors now swarming the pitch. They were all facing Harry, who was plummeting towards the ground far too quickly.

After his dealings with the dementors on the Quidditch pitch, Madam Pomfrey had confined Harry to the Hospital Wing for the rest of the weekend. A good amount of people had visited him, from Hagrid, who had brought him flowers that looked like cabbages, to his Quidditch team. 'I don't blame you in the slightest,' he could hear Wood say. He could also remember the sort of hollow voice his captain spoke in.

He had gotten a wide variety of visitors, but the one that surprised Harry the most was Frank Zhang, the exchange student he'd been sharing a room with. Even though he'd slept beside the boy for a good while now, he still knew nothing about him. He was one of the first boys to wake up, and one of the last to rest. He hung out with Seamus at most meals and classes, (he'd have to ask about that later). He often spoke a language that he couldn't understand, and he was afraid of an elfish boy who was set aflame. None of which was able to tell him why he'd visit him in the Hospital Wing in the middle of the night.

"How'd you manage to sneak in here?" Harry started with a question on the simpler side. It was the closest thing to small talk he could think of. Besides, he genuinely was curious; not every student had an invisibility cloak or Hermione to avoid being detected by Filch and the likes.

"Stuck to the shadows a lot," he responded honestly. What Harry didn't know, is that he'd been doing so as a black cat, using the blessing from his father to avoid detection. Harry could only nod, unsure what to do or how to act around the practical stranger. "How are you feeling?" Frank continued the awkward conversation with a question of his own.

"Like I fell off my broom and had the life sucked out of me, but better, I guess." Frank nodded, and Harry thought he could see relief flash across his face. "Why are you here?"

"What do you mean?" Frank asked, searching for clarification.

"Why visit me now? We never talk, despite the fact that we share classes, a house, and a room. Why the sudden interest."

Frank was quiet for a moment as he thought of a way to respond. He took a deep breath before he spoke again.

"People tell stories about you. They say how you're a big hero, and how you've fought . . . Voldemort ever since you were a baby." The pause in Frank's monologue seemed less like him working up the courage to say You Know Who's name, but more to remember what it actually was. "I'm not going to ask you to believe me, but back home, I think people do the same about me. I'm not going to presume that people back home talk about me as much as the Wizarding World talks about you. But still, we're both more alike than we'd care to admit."

"So as somebody who's been in an infirmary countless times, I know how boring and long nights like these can be." Harry was quiet as he listened to Frank conclude his monologue. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't been in Hogwarts for more than a couple of months, but Harry was surprised that the foreign exchange student had used Voldemort's name so soon and so freely. He also took note of how he said they were alike. The last person to insinuate that was Gilderoy Lockhart, who was still in St. Mungo's after Ron's wand had backfired on him back in the Chamber of Secrets. The last thing he thought about was Frank's concluding sentiment. Time spent in the Hospital Wing seemed to drag on forever when you weren't asleep or talking with a visitor. Maybe Frank was speaking from experience. Maybe.

He was about to respond when a light turned on. Madam Pomfrey. She must be getting up to check on how he was doing, and to most likely force more chocolate down his throat. Evidently, Frank had also noticed that they would no longer be alone. "I'll see you back in the tower, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. The next thing he knew, Frank had disappeared behind one of the many curtains surrounding them. When Madam Pomfrey came in to see how he was doing, the other Gryffindor was nowhere to be seen.

Defense Against the Dark Arts classes had resumed Professor Lupin, the man apparently over what sickness had knocked him down. The students were all trying to speak at once, telling the man what Snape had them do. Professor Lupin, to everyone's excitement except Hermione's, cancelled what Snape had assigned. He then went on teaching an interesting lesson on Hinkypunk's a lecture Frank only half payed attention to, not thinking the information to be vital.

Time seemed to fly by, and before anyone knew it, class was over, and Professor Lupin was excusing everybody.

"Wait a moment, Harry," Lupin called. "I'd like a word." Harry doubled back and watched Professor Lupin covering the Hinkypunk's box with a cloth. Frank made sure to be the last student out so he could stay by the door and listen in once he shifter to a small undetectable animal.

"I heard about the match," said Lupin, "and I'm sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?"

"No," said Harry. "The tree smashed it to bits." Lupin sighed.

"They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance."

"Did you hear about the Dementors too?" said Harry with difficulty.

"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time . . . furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds . . . I suppose they were the reason you fell?"

"Yes," said Harry. He hesitated for a moment, before speaking up again. "Why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just-?"

"It has nothing to do with weakness," said Professor Lupin sharply. "The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have. Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself: soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

"When they get near me," Harry paused again, "I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum." There was a moment's silence, then, "Why did they have to come to the match?" said Harry bitterly.

"They're getting hungry," said Lupin coolly. "Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up . . . I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement . . . emotions running high . . . it was their idea of a feast."

"Azkaban must be terrible," Harry muttered.

"The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheery thought. Most of them go mad within weeks."

"But Sirius Black escaped from them," Harry said slowly. "He got away . . ."

Frank heard something fall down to the ground, probable a briefcase or maybe a textbook; "Yes," Lupin said, "Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible . . . Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long . . ."

"You made that Dementor on the train back off," said Harry suddenly.

"There are . . . certain defenses one can use," said Lupin. "But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist."

"What defenses?" said Harry at once. "Can you teach me?"

"I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Harry, quite the contrary . . ."

"But if the Dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them!"

Lupin was silent again for a time, probably analyzing Harry. "Well . . . all right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill."

What is this? A new chapter that's actually over 1k words? I know, I'm shocked too.

Anywho, hit me up on instagram fowlbynamedorkbynature if you just wanna talk, or maybe see when stories get created or updated, and stuff like that.