Year 3 – The Prisoner of Azkaban

Chapter 9 – Watchful Eyes

Chapter Summary: Harry deals with the aftermath of the break in, and experiences his first harrowing encounter with a new kind of monster.

Author: Khodexus

Rated T: For occasional graphic concepts and atmosphere and brief references to death and violence. No cussing, no adult situations.

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights for the worlds or characters in Harry Potter. Those rights are owned by Scholastic Publishing Inc and J.K. Rowling. I do own the rights to my original characters depicted here, in as far as they differ from the worlds created by J.K. Rowling.

Monday, Harry woke early – as was usual on Mondays – for the morning meet up at the artificery. He was a little surprised, however, when Gemma Farley met them in the common room on their way out. "I'll be accompanying you this morning." She informed them, as Harry and his friends started out the door. True to her word, she trailed just behind them the whole way to the artificery without any further explanation.

Afterward, Professor Caldwell called to Harry's group as they were about to leave. "Hold up, y'all. I'm headin' up to the castle myself, so I figured I'd join y'all."

Harry was happy to chat a little about their Artificery projects with the American professor on the way, but it felt a little awkward. He'd never seen her accompany a student to the castle before. She parted ways with them once they reached the great hall for breakfast.

Their first class of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts. After class, Professor Lupin asked Harry to stay for a moment. "I thought, in light of recent events, you and I should have another chat." He suggested.

Harry had no objections, so they walked together down the hallways en route to Harry's next class, History of Magic. "So, how are you holding up?" Lupin asked.

"I'm fine." Harry assured him. "I know it was Sirius Black who broke into the castle. That's why everyone had to sleep in the great hall."

"You do seem to be handling it well. I'm just concerned maybe you are handling it too well."

"You think I'm not taking Black seriously?" Harry guessed.

"He's dangerous. I know you know he's dangerous. But I'm not sure anyone knows exactly what he is capable of. The Sirius I knew could never have betrayed your parents. That just goes to show I didn't really know him at all."

"He can't be more dangerous than Voldemort, can he?"

Lupin looked grave, but didn't flinch when Harry said the name. "He may not be as powerful as Voldemort, but that doesn't mean he can't be more dangerous… particularly to an individual person. Voldemort's power was broken; right now he's not an immediate threat to you. Sirius is!"

"I think I understand." Harry nodded.

"That's good. Now here we are. Just look after yourself, Harry." They'd arrived at Harry's next classroom, and Lupin took his leave as Harry braced himself for an hour of droning lecture from Professor Binns.

After History of Magic, Harry managed to slip away and don his cloak before anyone else could take up residence in his shadow. He made his way to a broom closet and took out the map, scanning it for a few minutes before he spotted Percy Weasley not too far from where he sat.

Thinking maybe he could find some answers, he crept back down the hall toward the History of Magic classroom, where Percy was scanning the corridor as he walked. Seamus Finnigan trailed alongside him, "He's a complete lunatic." Seamus was saying angrily, "Can we not get someone else?"

"None of the other paintings wanted the job." Percy replied, obviously a little distracted. "Frightened of what happened to the fat lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."

Harry knew only that a painting had been shredded by Black the previous night when he tried to get into Gryffindor tower. He could surmise that the fat lady had been the subject of the painting in question, but he didn't know what Sir Cadogan had volunteer for, or why it mattered so much to Seamus.

"Where could he have gone?" Percy muttered to himself.

"Who, Harry?" Seamus replied, finally looking around himself as if just realizing where they were at.

"He should have just gotten out of History of Magic." Percy continued.

"He vanishes sometimes. An' other times jus' appears from nowhere." Seamus explained, startling Harry with his astuteness.

"Don't be ridiculous." Percy scoffed.

But Seamus just shrugged. "Might be jus' me."

Harry felt he'd heard enough, and had no desire to push his luck and get caught, so he quietly crept back the direction Percy had come from, wondering what he could do with this new information, if anything.

On Tuesday, Harry became acutely aware of the miserable weather when he had to trek out to Artificery in a steady drizzle that seemed to soak into everything that got exposed for more than a few seconds. He and Daphne huddled up under the invisible umbrella Draco had conjured for the three of them, while Greg and Vince shared a big black fabric umbrella between them, and Millicent Bulstrode walked with Snape's potions assistant, Alex Volkov, who allegedly was heading down to the artificery to request a few supplies Snape was running low on.

"G'mornin' y'all. Today's lesson is not about creatin' a specific type of object, but instead is somethin' of a history lesson." Professor Caldwell explained once everyone was situated.

She blanked out one of her blackboards with a gesture of her wand, and wrote 'Defensive items.' at the top. "One of the more popular purposes of artificin' is to protect folks from danger." She explained, pointing her wand at the board, "Now, who can name a device or talisman designed to defend a person from harm?"

As was customary in her class, students began shouting out a few answers, instead of waiting to be called on.

"Something like a surefoot knot?" Michael Corner asked.

"That qualifies." Caldwell confirmed. "So do hound bells, and anti-jinx bangles." She copied the answers onto the board as they were called out.

"Do invisibility cloaks count?" Draco asked.

"They most certainly do, honey." Caldwell wrote it on the blackboard. "Ooh, I'm glad ya brought up vanishin' cabinets, darlin'!" She added that as well, turning to address Ernie Macmillan. "Technically speakin' a vanishin' cabinet isn't created usin' any specific wards or protective magics, but their intended use is definitely defensive in nature. What else?"

Before long they had a sizable list of about two dozen different items, then Hermione Granger called out, "Panic rings?!"

"Someone's lookin' for some extra credit." The teacher replied with a grin. "Y'all know why I say that?"

"You invented them as part of your thesis at the California Collegium of the Wizarding Arts." Hermione explained. "A panic ring is essentially a specialized portkey designed to transport the wearer to a predetermined location on command, and simultaneously activate a series of wards around the chosen location to prevent the wearer from being followed, tracked, or intruded upon."

"Sounds like you memorized that right outa mah biography, and Ah don't even have a biography. Ah think that deserves five points for Gryffindor, Missy."

This was the first time Harry could recall that Professor Caldwell had even mentioned house points.

After Artificery, Harry, Draco, and Vince went straight to quidditch practice, where despite the rain, Harry felt that their drills – under the watchful eyes of madam Hooch – were actually fairly productive. Flint seemed in a decent mood, as if he actually enjoyed the weather, and that attitude was slightly contagious.

Harry was smiling when it was over, though he still changed into his dry robes as quickly as humanly possible before returning to his dorm room.

The next day, Harry mulled his thoughts over in Potions while doing his best to stay on task and not mess up his and Draco's work, and afterward Alex once again walked with him and his friends up to the main staircase on the way to lunch.

Another quidditch practice followed lunch, and it was much the same as the previous one, just wetter. In addition, the wind was picking up, and Harry had to cast an impervious charm on his glasses to keep the rain off.

Then as evening descended upon them, Harry was meeting with Snape for his first occlumency lesson since the break-in. Before they could start, Harry asked, "Professor Snape, I've noticed everywhere I go teachers and prefects seem to be following me around, but no one will tell me why."

Snape didn't answer right away, instead, regarding him for a moment before leaning forward slightly. "Are you unable to guess?" He asked.

"Well, I did have a guess." Harry admitted, "I suppose I just wanted it confirmed? They're keeping an eye on me because I might be in danger from Sirius Black?"

Snape nodded, "Or, your own recklessness." He added, confirming Harry's other guess.

"I thought the castle was safe." Harry sighed. "Is anywhere safe?"

"You are unharmed. Security has been increased. No place is safer." Snape responded dryly.

"Not even Gringotts?" Harry asked.

Snape's only response was raising one thin eyebrow.

"I guess not." Harry couldn't resist a sly grin.

"Any further questions?" Snape asked, and Harry shook his head. "Prepare yourself."

It ended up being one of the most grueling sessions yet, and Harry left feeling sore and tired, but not completely exhausted.

On Thursday afternoon, Harry ventured once more outside for Care of Magical Creatures, braving the torrential downpour and howling winds only for Hagrid to redirect them to the stables where the school's coaches were kept. There, Hagrid taught them how to clean, maintain, and repair various grooming tools, cleaning equipment, and tack for a few different creatures that resided on the castle grounds. He promised they would start with the next creature on his list the following week if the weather let up, but wouldn't tell them what that creature was, just that it was, "Summat I know a lot of you er lookin' forward to."

Finally, Saturday arrived, and the weather was the worst it had been all week. Harry ate breakfast with the sound of the wind and rain hammering the window panes as a stark backdrop even the excited conversation in the great hall couldn't completely drown out. Occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the room, followed closely after by extended thunderous rumblings that seemed to shake the stone floor beneath the tables.

Harry recast the impervious charm on his glasses before heading outside to the quidditch pitch, noting as he did that a number of his teammates were sporting goggles, likely with similar charms. It was evident to Harry that the storm was not deterring the majority of the school from attending the match. Everywhere he looked students were bracing against the wind, even as it tore umbrellas from all but the tightest of grips.

Before long, he was lined up with the rest of his teammates, facing down the Gryffindor team across the field as the wind whipped their quidditch robes about. Based on their formation, Harry noted that the Gryffindor team seemed to have finally filled out every reserve position on their roster. Ron Weasley had moved from starting chaser, to a reserve beater behind his brothers the twins; while a fourth year student, Cormac McLaggen, had signed on as reserve keeper. Finally, since Ron had vacated the left flank chaser position to Emily Taylor, they had brought in a second year boy as the new reserve chaser. Harry didn't actually recall the boy's name, however, and couldn't make out the lettering on his quidditch robes through the rain.

Harry didn't know if Cormac was any good, as he had more of a beater's build, to Harry's mind, and Harry also had no idea how Ron would do as a beater, though he'd seen first-hand Emily Taylor's talent as a chaser.

Madam Hooch was decked out in a slick rain cloak and thick goggles, as she amplified her voice to be heard over the squall with her wand tip pressed to her neck. "As of now, this year's new conduct guidelines will be enforced. So let's keep it clean. Understood?"

"Understood!" Flint and Wood seemed to say together, though Harry could barely hear them over the rain.

"Heads or beasts?!" Hooch asked Oliver Wood. And though Harry couldn't make out his reply it was apparent that Wood won the coin toss when he chose the North goal for Gryffindor to guard.

"Mount your brooms!" Hooch instructed, then lowered her wand and brought her silver whistle to her lips. The sound of her whistle pierced through the howling of the wind, but only just.

All fourteen starting players kicked off the ground and rose swiftly but unsteadily into the air. Even Harry's wind chaser – with all of its stability and handling charms – was shaky under Harry's hands, vibrating against the storm while Harry fought to hold his position.

When Hooch hurled the quaffle up in between the lead chasers, Harry could only vaguely hear the sound of Lee Jordan's voice, but couldn't make out any of his commentary. Angelina snatched the quaffle before Flint could get his hands on it, and immediately was off down the field toward the south goal posts.

Harry, however, turned his attention away to begin his search for the snitch. He'd promised himself he'd try to end this match as early as possible so Flint and the other Slytherins would have minimal time to injure any of their opponents. Even if Hooch had convinced the school to tighten the regulations, he still didn't trust many of his teammates to actually keep it clean.

Harry evaded a bludger hit his way, courtesy of Fred and/or George he assumed, and caught sight of a Gryffindor chaser scoring after one of their other chasers faked a shot on goal into a short range pass. After that, one of the Slytherin chasers took the quaffle down the field faster than any of the Gryffindor chasers could keep up with him – almost certainly Draco on his Nimbus 2001 – only for his shot to be blocked handily by Wood.

Every flash of lightning brought a moment of near blindness. Harry was hoping he might catch a flicker of the snitch during these moments, but all he could make out were snapshots of the other players as afterimages in his eyes. The extreme weather made it very difficult to even tell the two teams apart in their rain drenched uniforms.

The next play saw the Gryffindor chasers weaving back and forth before a Slytherin chaser checked one of the three girls and stole the quaffle. Before he could get back to the Gryffindor goal, the Weasleys knocked a bludger his way, which glanced off his shoulder resulting in a fumble. The quaffle was then recovered by the Gryffindors who made it back to the Slytherin posts and took a shot on the goal. Only this time Miles Bletchley saved it, and returned the quaffle once more to the Slytherin offense.

The rain seemed to be growing steadily worse, or else Harry was just losing feeling in his fingers. Two more goals were scored by Gryffindor in rapid succession, and Harry had still seen no sign of the snitch. Harry began to recognize certain players on the field by their flight patterns more than their uniforms or jersey numbers. For instance, every time Draco got the ball, he blasted past the opposing defense at breakneck speed. Angelina and Alicia, on the other hand, were highly skilled at maneuvering back and forth while passing constantly to deter Slytherin from a steal, though once or twice this tactic backfired due to the high winds. The Weasley twins were unmistakable for their near perfect coordination whenever they made a bludger play, and Flint was the one who always went for the check, even when the Gryffindor girls were clearly passing.

Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually, the Gryffindor team called for a time out, and the Slytherins took the opportunity to huddle and regroup.

"…Can't see anything in this!" Graham Montague shouted, as Harry came under an awning attached to the Slytherin locker rooms. The rain was driving so hard against it that the supports creaked every few seconds, and it was a wonder it was holding together at all.

"You should impervious your goggles." Draco shouted back. "That's what Harry and I did."

"Yeah, same here!" Miles Bletchley agreed.

A couple members of the team apparently weren't familiar with the impervious charm, so Harry cast the charm for Jim Harper and Vincent Crabbe, while Draco and Miles assisted the others.

"Any luck with the snitch?" Draco asked, drawing close to Harry.

"Not yet. Even with my glasses imperviussed, it's still hard to see. What's our score at?"

They both strained to look at the scoreboard, "Looks like fifty to… eighty." Draco observed.

"Yeah, looks like that to me too." Harry agreed.

By then Hooch was blowing her whistle again, so they all reluctantly left the dubious shelter of the awning and returned to their starting positions in the air. Harry's ascent seemed sluggish, weighed down by what felt like at least twenty pounds of water soaked into the fabric of his uniform, and pooled in his boots.

Harry steeled himself, and muttered, "Just get the snitch." Under his breath in an attempt to tune out distractions. But every time he tried to focus – to lose himself in his trance – a drift of wind current forced him to adjust his position, and he had to start all over. Draco scored once, then twice, while the Griffindors scored three more times in the same period. Harry had to dodge a chaser, he thought it was Graham Montague, and then lightning struck again, and this time Harry saw something exceptionally odd. There was a figure, a silhouette, like an enormous black dog, right at the top of the stands.

When lightning next lit up the sky, the dog was gone, and Harry turned his attention back to searching out the snitch.

Finally, Harry was beginning to block out the sounds of the storm, but he was also losing feeling in his extremities. Lightning flashed, but no thunder followed, and then there was something moving down below. From his position high above the quidditch field, Harry could make out dark figures in cloaks floating above the grass, moving closer, rising into the air as they flew toward the center of the field. Harry tried to fly higher in order to pull away from them, but his hands wouldn't move. There was ice on his gloves and his glasses began to frost over despite the impervious charm. His broom shook as one of the things approached him. The blackness beneath its hood was impenetrable, but the hoarse sandpaper breath it drew in was perfectly audible.

Vaguely, Harry thought he saw flashes of silvery light, like tiny zaps of lightning. But Harry was shaking, violently. Cold was growing inside him, stilling his heart, and the wind was rushing past his ears even as a distant voice reached him.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" It was a woman's voice, a voice he did not recognize.

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…" That voice, Harry knew.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead –" But Harry was falling, ice and rain claiming him, and another voice was screaming, calling his name.

…

"Harry. Harry, are you alright?" It was Pansy, and the ground beneath him was surprisingly soft, and dry.

"Where are they? Who screamed?" Harry was shocked at how weak his voice sounded to his own ears.

"I think a lot of people screamed." Pansy informed him. "I heard a few over the wind. I hate…" She sniffed, and Harry opened his eyes, startled by the raw emotion in her voice. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "I hate those things!" She finished, swiping at her nose with her sleeve.

They were in the hospital wing, and Harry was lying on a cot. Pansy and Draco were both there, as were Greg, Vince, and Blaise. His teammates were still wearing their quidditch robes. Harry also noticed Alex Volkov standing near the door. Harry tried to sit up, bracing himself for pain, or dizziness. He ached all over, but made it into a sitting position. "What things? Were those…?"

"Dementors." It was Blaise who replied. He appeared a little more pale than usual. "They were dementors. Dumbledore drove them off, and did something to slow your fall. I've never seen him so mad."

"I fell?"

"Over a hundred feet. You were pretty high up." It was Pansy again.

Harry lay back heavily, and grinned weakly, "Remind me… Remind me never to make fun of Seamus' reaction to those things again."

Draco and Pansy both chuckled half-heartedly, but the rest were somber.

"What about the match?" Harry asked next, still trying to get some strength back into his voice.

"Hooch suspended it." Blaise answered again, "Flint wants to resume as soon as everyone can fly."

"Where's my broom?" Harry asked, turning to scan the area around the hospital bed.

"It's fine." Draco picked it up from behind him and held it toward Harry. "It tried to hover near you when you fell, and I grabbed it before it could blow away. Everyone else stayed on their brooms."

"I was… nobody else fell?" Harry blinked, but they all shook their heads. "Why did it come after me?"

"We don't know." Pansy looked away.

Harry sighed.

There was a sudden commotion at the door, and Harry sat up a little straighter as Flint and Bletchley came in, "You ready to fly yet, Harry?" Flint asked.

"Yeah, I think so." Harry nodded. He still felt weak, and his skin still burned, but he thought he could probably fly.

"Then let's get back in the air."

"Not so fast." Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office. "I haven't cleared him yet."

Harry groaned, and fell back on the cot, mentally assessing himself. He hurt like he'd been in a serious fight, as if there was no part of him that hadn't been bruised. But at the same time, he didn't think he was physically damaged. Those parts of him that weren't numb were stinging with little pinpricks. Harry's quidditch robes had been completely dried out at some point, as had everyone else's except Flint and Bletchley in the doorway. He didn't think he'd been unconscious very long, but he wasn't really sure.

Pomfrey kept him another half-an-hour while he drank down two potions, and snacked on some peppermints. When his hands stopped shaking, and the pins and needles along his skin had subsided, she had a whispered conversation with Alex and then gave the go-ahead for Harry to leave with his teammates. Though, unsurprisingly, the expression on her face said she would have preferred to keep him longer.

In another ten minutes he was back in the pouring rain, lined up once more across from the Gryffindor team. Harry was relieved that so far no one seemed seriously injured. The crowd had thinned significantly. The only students occupying the stands by the time Hooch called for their attention were those diehard Gryffindor and Slytherin fans who had been waiting in the great hall for news of when the game would resume.

"Headmaster Dumbledore has ensured there will be no further interruptions!" Hooch shouted, once again amplifying her voice. "The game will resume with the same score as when it was suspended; with Gryffindor in possession of the quaffle."

Harry thought he heard one or two of his teammates grumbling, but he couldn't be sure. He wondered if the storm would ever let up, or if he would ever feel warm again. This time when Hooch blew her whistle, Angelina already had the quaffle as they all rose into the air.

Harry flew high, far from the ground, and tried unsuccessfully to slip into his quidditch trance. He was still more shaken than he would have dared to admit to Madam Pomfrey. Three more shots were made on goal, and one from each team made it through, before Harry realized the lightning had stopped as his eyes to finally adjust to the gloom.

Encouraged, he started flying a wide circuit, gripping his broom tightly to keep it steady.

Draco took the ball and sped down the field. This time, his shot was true, scoring another 10 points for Slytherin.

The next play saw a Gryffindor girl steal the quaffle after the storm winds blew a pass just out of Flint's reach. The Gryffindor chasers took another 10 points after a bit of fancy maneuvering.

Harry had to swerve to dodge an incoming bludger, and shortly after, Flint checked one of the Weasley twins, hard. Harry couldn't tell it if was Fred or George, but he made his penalty shot, and play resumed.

At some point, as Harry was starting to wonder if they'd ever find the snitch in this mess, Seamus passed close by him and shouted something unintelligible through the din. Harry did his best to ignore him.

While Harry searched, he witnessed another scoring shot from one of the Gryffindors. Then almost immediately Flint managed to get a shot past Wood. There was a moment when it seemed the two captains glared heatedly at one another before Wood put the quaffle back into play.

Harry thought the rain might be starting to let up at last, and perhaps that was why he spotted it then. Harry turned to focus on the snitch, pushing his broom as fast as it was able to go while his rain-soaked robes dragged at the air behind him. He saw the bludger in time to dodge it, and then it seemed all was clear in front of him. There was a faint rise in pitch from the crowd that managed to reach him through the gale, and then Harry's hand closed around the golden ball.

Harry thought he heard cheering. And imagined there were plenty of jeers there too. He didn't care. The match was over, and no one had been hospitalized… except for him, he corrected himself.

He flew closer to the scoreboard to learn that the ending score was 260 to 200 in favor of Slytherin before Draco caught up to him, nearly barreling him over. "You did it, we won!" He shouted.

Harry grinned widely, holding the snitch high above his head, as the rest of the Slytherin team reached them, all congratulating Harry though not quite as vigorously as Draco had.

The immediate celebration died down after a moment, and everyone seemed to agree that it was time to get out of the rain. Harry changed with the rest of the team in the locker room, only to head straight back out into the rain under an assortment of umbrellas.

As soon as they were back inside the castle they were greeted with renewed cheers. All the Slytherins were there, alongside a few from the other houses as well. The Gryffindors entering the castle mostly went straight toward the stairs, but Fred and George amongst others stopped long enough to congratulate Harry and his team before moving on.

Eventually the celebration moved to a spacious room in the dungeons near the Slytherin wing, and Harry mostly sat to one side watching the others celebrate. For some reason, he continued to feel a chill long after he was dry.

All in all, it turned out the quidditch match had taken less than four hours, minus however long Harry had been in the hospital wing, and while Harry and his friends didn't feel the need to take lunch in the great hall (after all the snacks at the party), they did leave the celebrations in time to make it to Study of Ancient Runes. After that, they met up with Pansy on her way back from Comportment and headed to the great hall for dueling practice before dinner.

"You'd think she'd be a little more subdued after the incident during the quidditch match and Gryffindor's loss." Pansy growled as they walked.

"Who is it this time?" Draco asked her.

"Granger, of course." Pansy snapped.

"What did she do?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Just being a know-it-all, as usual. I can't stand that she gets such good marks in Comportment over those of us who were raised pureblood." She continued.

"She's just smart. That's all." Harry assured her.

"I thought she annoyed you too?" Pansy turned toward Harry, one eyebrow raised.

"She does, sometimes. I wasn't really paying attention today, though. I've been kind of in a sour mood, to be honest." Harry replied as they walked through the double doors.

It appeared only about half of the dueling club members were there that evening. And all seven of the dueling circles were already occupied, so Harry and his friends sat down near one of them to wait their turns while discussing strategy and dueling spells.

It was about thirty minutes in when Harry realized something.

"Pansy… Isn't Comportment right after lunch?" He asked.

"Yeah it is." Pansy nodded.

"What're you on about?" Draco asked.

Harry sat up straighter and leaned a little closer. "Study of Ancient Runes is also right after lunch." He reminded them, in a low tone.

They both looked confused, but it was Draco who asked, "Yeah, that's true, every Saturday. We know that. Why is that important?"

"Granger is taking Study of Ancient Runes. She was in class today, right?"

"Yeah, she was." Draco shrugged again. "So what?"

"But… she's in Comportment." Pansy was frowning. "She was there today. She can't be in two places at once, can she?"

"I dunno. Is it possible?" Harry looked between his two friends. "Is there magic that can make it possible?"

"I don't know." Draco looked thoughtful. "We can look into it. But I've not heard of anything, at least not that a third year could perform."

"Not even a know-it-all third year like Granger." Pansy concurred.

Harry thought about it for a long moment, before shaking his head. "Probably a mystery for another time." He muttered.

"Harry?" He looked up to see Tracey Davis coming their way.

"Hey Tracey." Harry stood up. "Care to join us? We're just discussing dueling strategies."

"Yeah, that's actually why I came over."

"Well come sit down then." Harry smiled, and they both sat together with Draco and Pansy.

At some point, perhaps halfway through the allotted dueling club time, Harry heard someone calling his name, "C'mon, Harry." He looked up past Tracey and two other small groups seated on the floor to see Susan Bones standing at the edge of an otherwise vacant dueling circle gesturing across the intervening distance for Harry to join her.

He glanced at his friends, noticing that both Pansy and Tracey were scowling at Susan. "What?" He asked.

"I don't…" Tracey began.

But Pansy cut her off, "Don't get into it. Boys just don't understand."

Tracey gave Harry a confused look, and Harry chased the frown from his face with an effort, and replied with a shrug, before standing and heading to join Susan in the circle.

"I've been holding the line and hoped you would want to practice with me again." Susan informed him.

This time it was easy to return Susan's smile. "Certainly." He agreed, and moved to stand across from her in the circle.

Susan fell into a dueling stance, and Harry did the same, waiting for a moment to allow his partner to cast the first spell. "Langlock!" She cried.

Harry reacted swiftly, trying to sidestep even as he brought up his shield, "Protego!"

His shield just barely came up in time, knocking the energy from Susan's spell to one side. "Glacius!" She cried next.

This time Harry evaded Susan's charm completely, and called out, "Expelliarmus." The moment he'd dropped his shield.

Susan was quick, but not quick enough to dodge Harry's disarm. She grinned as she moved to retrieve her wand. "Why are you smiling?" Harry wondered.

"Because dueling you is always fun, and always challenging." She admitted. "But this isn't an official duel. If it's alright with you, I'd like to practice cutting some more."

Harry nodded, and so they spent the next ten minutes or so casting disarms back and forth, and attempting to cut each other's spells out of the air.

By the end of their turn in the circle, Harry was parrying about two of every five spells, and Susan was doing only slightly better than him. And he had to admit she was right. Dueling with her was quite fun.

Harry had trouble focusing during his occlumency lesson that night. Every time he summoned his quidditch pitch and snitches, the dementors were there, waiting. Each time he saw them he remembered the screaming voices.

He didn't know if Snape saw them, or heard the same voices, Harry did, but the Professor obviously knew something was wrong.

"You are distracted." Snape stated simply.

Harry nodded, retrieving his wand from yet another attempt to fight Snape off. Snape was wasting no time deflecting his disarming charms right back at him. "I can't get the dementors out of my head." He explained. "I still feel cold."

A muscle in Snape's jaw seemed to twitch slightly, as if he were contemplating how to respond and didn't like his options.

"Dementors are insidious creatures." He said at last. "But they can be repelled. You can clear your mind of them, just as you would any mental attack."

"So occlumency can protect me from them?"

"Not directly."

"Why did they affect me so strongly? It seemed like they were singling me out. I was the only one who fainted and fell."

"I don't know how much you have been taught about dementors." Snape began.

"We learned a little about them alongside poltergeists and ghosts." Harry informed his professor.

"Not very much then." Distaste practically dripped from Snape's sneer.

"Professor Lupin is a great teacher, I'm sure he's just getting around to it."

"You've hardly had a representative sample size." Snape's expression had grown dangerous, and Harry decided it might be best not to pursue the subject.

Instead he asked. "Well, maybe you can answer my question?"

Snape remained silent for a long time, but Harry was determined to wait him out. Eventually his teacher relented. "Dementors feed on positive emotions, forcing one to relive terror, sorrow, and anguish. You have known more real emotions than most. You have experienced loss, tragedy, and joy, on levels many would not understand. And you have endured. Perhaps then, the dementors are drawn to you, because of your strength. A strength they desire to consume."

Harry was thoughtful. He didn't like the explanation. But it did make him feel a little better about it. "I was afraid it was because I was weak."

Snape snorted, and Harry looked up at him, startled. "With everything you've been through? Everything you've overcome?"

"I guess it is a little silly." Harry admitted, embarrassed.

"Indeed." Snape allowed him to contemplate the matter further. "Shall we resume the lesson? I will instruct you how to shake off the lingering effects of your encounter."

"Yes. Let's do that." Harry agreed, and readied himself once more.

When classes resumed on Monday, Harry decided to take his map with him, tucking the folded parchment carefully into the back cover of one of his books. After Artificery, Harry grabbed a plateful of food from the breakfast tables, and carried it off to find a spot in the spiral staircase of a small tower overlooking the courtyard where he could open his map, and peruse it while eating.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He whispered, and watched as lines of ink spread swiftly across the parchment. He scanned the areas of the map closest to his own position, to ensure no one was coming his way, either from above or below. Then he began tracking the comings and goings of his fellow students from the great hall.

There were Draco, Pansy, Greg, and Vince in the great hall, enjoying their own breakfast. And just coming through the doors were Becky Arncliffe, and Latisha Randle.

Harry had come to realize, while examining the map over the past few weeks, that there were a great number of people at Hogwarts who he did not really know. He couldn't have even said, off the top of his head, what houses or years Becky or Latisha were in, and the same went for the majority of other names he saw wandering the halls, or joining their classmates for breakfast.

Harry sat there alone, quietly eating his meal, when after a time he spotted the name Hermione Granger exiting the great hall by herself. He thought for a moment about the idea of her being in two places at once, and figured the only way to find out what was going on would be to follow her. So he quickly wiped the map, tucked it into his pocket, and shoved the last of his food into his mouth as he took off at a trot down the stairs on an intercept course with Hermione. He saw her ahead of him at the landing to the main staircase, and strolled in the same direction as casually as he could.

She went up one flight of stairs, then a second, but as she was ascending to the third floor, two other girls, Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood, were coming down the stairs in the other direction, and Ginny had obviously noticed Harry as she offered him a smile. After a brief moment, Ginny glanced away, her smile faltering as if she'd just remembered that they'd agreed they maybe shouldn't openly be friends… or, whatever it was they were.

"Oh, hello Harry." Luna greeted him, smiling airily as she approached.

"Hello Luna… Ginny." Harry returned the greeting, watching as Hermione disappeared up the stairs, still oblivious to his presence. "How have you been?"

"I've been well. And Ginny is doing better." Luna informed him. "I'm still missing some socks, but what are socks, really? We were on our way down to breakfast. Have you already eaten? Anything good today?"

"Always seem to bump into each other around meal times." Harry observed, glancing toward Ginny. "And yeah, there's some good food. I'm guessing you want to get to it while it's fresh, so I probably shouldn't keep you."

He gave them both a light smile, and Luna glanced meaningfully at Ginny. "Was there something else?" Harry asked.

"No. It's fine." Ginny mumbled, and started past Harry down the stairs with Luna in tow. Luna just shrugged and offered Harry another dazed smile before following behind the red-headed girl.

Harry watched them go, thinking to himself that they were both a little strange, before checking the time with a whispered "Tempus." He still had a little time before Defense Against the Dark Arts, so he searched for another secluded spot where he could examine the map.

By the time he'd relocated Hermione, she was already in the Charms classroom, along with Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and a couple other Gryffindor students.

He scratched out a quick note that Hermione's first class on Monday was Charms, then wiped the map one more time and rushed off to make Lupin's class.

Author's Comments: Here we go, managed to get this one ready much more quickly than the last. It's a bit shorter, but hopefully it meets expectations. Let me know what you think of the changes I made here, I've got quite a few interesting things planned going forward, and I wonder if the clues and foreshadowing I've included will be spotted by my very astute readers.

Cheers, and enjoy!

Once again the copyrights for the Harry Potter worlds belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters depicted here and this story are copyrighted to me.