First, according to Pottermore, Fleamont Potter is Harry's paternal grandfather, not Charlus, and Euphemia (no maiden name recorded) is his paternal grandmother, not Dorea (or any other) Black. It has bearing on the story, and also, it comes right from J.K. Rowling, so her canon trumps your fanon. Harry might be distantly related to the Blacks (as all old families appear to be related to each other, more or less), but not enough for the Black family magic to accept him as the heir with any kind of grace without Sirius' blood adoption.
Secondly, while I generally enjoy your reviews immensely, commenting with a mere "update" after I've literally just posted a shit ton of words is not going to endear you to me. I'll thank you to keep your entitlement to yourself if you don't have anything nice or constructive to say.
To all the rest of my readers: thank you for your kind comments and helpful information. I won't go into detail, but some of it plays nicely right into my story, and I also love learning new things.
For those who think the story is too slow-paced, or who don't like my way of telling the story: you know where the back button is.
Dobby's Deceit
Part 6
The first of September usually couldn't come soon enough, but this year Harry dreaded stepping onto Platform 9 3/4. Not only would he be leaving his wonderful new home behind, he finally had found family that cared for him and wanted to be close.
"It'll be all fine," Sirius' slightly rough voice crooned. He held Harry tightly in his arms and kissed his hair. "We have the journals, and your cottage is so well-hidden that no one will ever find me there."
"Promise me you'll stay safe," Harry whispered into the man's chest. "No coming to Hogwarts, and no going after whoever it is you were after."
Sirius chuckled darkly. "That has already been dealt with, pup, don't worry." He loosened the embrace so he could look Harry in the eyes. "You go on and have a wonderful year. Your Hermione will probably take up a good portion of your time, but don't forget to have fun with your other friends."
"Balance," Harry said solemny.
"Balance," Sirius agreed, his grey eyes soft with affection.
Someone cleared their throat. "Heir Potter, it is time for you to go to King's Cross. You have only thirty minutes left."
Harry sighed. It had been generous of Sharptooth to make his office availabe for their goodbyes and he was grateful, but waiting until the last minute to actually leave was also making it much harder than he had anticipated.
"I'll see you at Yule," Harry said. "And Easter."
"Yes." Sirius pulled him into his arms again and rather obviously scented Harry's neck like some kind of animal. It was one of his stranger quirks, but one Harry could live with. "I could still kidnap you. Homeschooling is far superior to Hogwarts' current education."
Harry grinned, even as his eyes stung a little. "If this year's Defence professor is as bad as the last two, we can do that."
"That's a promise." Sirius finally let go of Harry. "I love you, Harry."
"You, too," Harry mumbled, heart skipping a beat in his chest.
Sirius' kind gaze went to Dobby, who had patiently waited for them. "Please take him to the train and watch over him."
"Yes, Lord Black," the elf said solemnly. "Dobby be taking good care of Harry Potter sir."
After one last hug and a slightly stubbly kiss to his forehead, Harry took Dobby's small hand in his and allowed himself to be taken away.
Reappearing in a dark niche at King's Cross, Dobby first enlarged all of Harry's luggage, weightless to make getting on the train easier, and then made himself invisible so Harry could cross the barrier like certain people expected him to.
To his great relief, Hermione and her parents were already there, all of them visibly lighting up as they saw him coming.
"Harry!" Hermione flew into his arms and kissed his cheek. "Are you ready for Hogwarts?" From his carrier, Crookshanks gave a content little rumble.
"Uhm, yeah." He returned the kiss before embracing Emma and even getting pulled into a loose man hug by Dan. "You're obviously looking forward to it."
"Yes. I've set myself several goals this year," she replied ominously, not elaborating at his questioningly raised eyebrows.
"We have a little time yet," Emma said with a smile. "You can get on the train now, or we could sit for a bit before the train leaves."
Choosing to sit, Harry pulled four small bottles of Dobby's lemonade from his book bag and passed them around. "With compliments from my friend."
Dan took a long pull. "Man, I love this stuff. What's in there, anyway? It's some kind of energy drink, isn't it?"
"Er, maybe a little. Dobby uses special ingredients, but they're healthy, I promise."
"Well, I'm not complaining," Emma said with a smile. "We're both fit for our hike in Dartmoor next weekend."
"I'm a little envious, but we've got so many new classes that it almost counts as a hike." Hermione took a drink from her lemonade. "You'll send pictures, right?"
"Of course we will." Dan ruffled her hair, causing her to squeak in horror.
"Dad! I spent hours trying to make it behave!"
Harry felt her pain and patted her shoulder. "It's a lost cause, 'Mione. I gave up ages ago."
"But I wanted to be pretty," she mumbled, trying to make her hair lie at least a little flat.
"You're pretty no matter what," Harry said loyally. "And I like your hair all wild."
"So much more game than you," Emma whispered to Dan, smirking. She then glanced at her watch and sighed. "Only five more minutes. You should board the train and find seats."
"Yes, let's." Hermione sighed. "I'm not looking forward to Malfoy's annual harassment."
"Well, you do know the strike points exceptionally well," Dan said, asking, "What?" when Emma elbowed him.
Hermione's parents helped them maneuver their school trunks and Crookshank's carrier onto the train and hugged both teens. As Hedwig disliked her cage intensely, Harry had decided to donate it to the second hand shop on Diagon Alley. It freed up his hands nicely and had the added bonus of him being able to help Hermione with her things, which, as Sirius had assured him, was still looked upon favorably by witches who were perfectly capable of casting their own featherlight charm.
"Chivalry will never die," Sirius had advised him, followed by handing Harry a small book on wizarding etiquette. "Having the ladies on your side may very well swing things in your favour, and I'm not talking about being an outrageous flirt."
"Stay safe," Emma said. The engine driver gave a warning whistle. Only two more minutes. "We really don't want to take Hermione out of school, so be smart, alright?"
"Smart is not the problem," Harry replied.
"We're not the ones to start it. Usually," Hermione added. She grinned cheekily. "Bye, mum, dad. Love you!"
The train whistle blew again and they withdrew from the car door. From afar, Harry spied a horde of Weasleys running through the barrier and after the moving train.
"The Weasleys never make it on time," he commented.
Hermione snorted, floating her trunk into the corridor. Crookshanks, who was balanced on top, meowed disdainfully. "One would think that they knew how to organize on this day after so many years." She glanced into the nearest compartment. "This one is full."
Harry shrugged the Weasleys' plight off - it was easy to Floo or apparate to Hogsmeade, after all - and turned his full attention to Hermione. "Why don't we ask Dobby to help us?"
"Dobby will!" the elf squeaked, becoming visible. "Harry Potter sir be waiting here. Dobby be back in a moment!" He was back almost immediately, ears a little drooped. "There be only one compartment, but it not be completely empty. Dobby be sorry."
"It's not your fault," Hermione said gently. "Please show us."
With a snap of his fingers, they lost the grip on their luggage. With nothing left to do but follow the little creature, they made their way through the train. Close to the rear end, Dobby opened a compartment door.
"This be it," he said. "Wolf man be sleeping, but Dobby can put up silencing ward."
"Hm, better not," Hermione said, looking regretful but resolved. "See the luggage up there? If he's on the way to Hogwarts today, he might be a new professor, and if there's trouble, he should be able to react."
Harry couldn't fault her for her logic. "Yeah, maybe he was told to take the train with us because of Sirius Black."
"Remus J. Lupin," Hermione muttered, reading the plaque on the somewhat shabby suitcase. "Lupin means wolf. Huh. Dobby, you called him wolf man, didn't you?"
"He be wolfy man," Dobby confirmed. "He be dangerous, but only one night a month."
Suddenly blanching, Hermione stepped back, frantically pulling at Harry's arm. "He's a werewolf! And the full moon was last night!"
"So?" Harry entered the compartment and sat down across from Lupin. "You heard Dobby, he's only dangerous once a month, and that was yesterday." A sly grin tugged at his lips and before he could stop himself, he added, "Not unlike a girl, right?"
Hermione was so scandalized that she forgot her fear. "Harry!" She quickly got into the apartment and closed the door behind her. "That was uncalled for!"
"Sorry, sorry, but it's ridiculous to be afraid of him just because he's sprouting a little fur once a month. We don't know anything about him, yet. He could be a good guy! As you said, he might even be a new teacher. Can you imagine Professor McGonagall or Professor Flitwick allowing someone dangerous into the school?"
Huffing, Hermione plopped down into the seat next to him. "I suppose that's true. And now? Do we just stay here?"
"Why not? We're as alone as we're gonna get," Harry replied with a shrug. "At least for now. I think I hear the twins trampling; seems like they made the train after all."
A few moments later, their compartment door was ripped open and a panting Ron stumbled in.
"Here you are!" he cried. "Why didn't you wait for me? I saw you walking away when the train set off! You could've helped me with my trunk."
"Mind your voice!" Hermione hissed, pointing at Lupin's slumbering form. Crookshanks in her lap hissed as well. "How is it our fault that your family was late? Again?"
Ron flushed angrily. "You still could've helped me."
Harry, who had no desire to sit with Ron while he was in a temper, sighed, drew his wand, and set the trunk onto the shelf above the seats with a muttered levitating spell.
"Honestly, it's like you regularly forget that you are a wizard," Hermione said bitingly.
Even Harry's ears rang with the severity of it.
"Just in case you didn't know, I haven't really missed you," Ron shot back. "Bloody hell. And what is that monster on your lap? A lion?"
"Crookshanks is a half kneazle. If you could finally lower your voice so the sleeping passenger can remain asleep ..." Hermione dismissed Ron with a last glare and started rummaging in her carrier bag.
"What's wrong with her?" Ron demanded, eyes narrowed. "Did she start her girl stuff over the summer?"
"One more word, Ronald, and I'll put you in a full body-bind," Hermione threatened.
Harry sighed again. "Maybe you should shut it, Ron. You were too late, just like we were too late last year."
"That barmy house elf stopped us," Ron argued. "It's not our fault."
"We arrived at the barrier three minutes before the train left!" Harry retorted, fed up with the discussion. "Dobby didn't help, but we were late! Blame your parents, if you want, but leave Hermione and me out of it."
"Fine, take her side!" Ron got up and slammed out of the compartment, making sure to be as loud as humanly possible.
"He's a horrible boy," Hermione growled, closing the door again with her wand and casting a locking spell. Glancing at the still sleeping man across from her, she deflated. "I'm sorry, Harry. I told myself to be good."
"He insulted you and acted like a prat," Harry said with a shrug. "You could've been nicer about it, but I don't think that would've helped much."
Hermione leaned against his side and sniffed. "He'll be back."
"Yeah, probably around lunch time." To cheer her up, Harry carefully took the potions book from her hands and replaced it with Dobby's book about house elf lore. "Here, let's read that one together."
"Won't that be boring for you?" she asked, glancing at him.
"Nah. House elves are fantastic, and I'm sure I missed something the first time." Harry smiled, pecked her on the temple and opened the cover. "It'll be fun."
For the next hour, they were engrossed in the book, quietly talking about the things Hermione discovered. Having a live house elf on hand to answer questions certainly helped Hermione a lot to come to terms with the bond house elves had with wizards.
"I'll never get over how unequal that bond can be," she said a little sadly. "But I understand why they need it."
"We be strong, and many wizards be kind," Dobby assured her. He snapped his fingers and two bottles of water and a bowl of cut up fruit appeared. "It be time for Harry Potter sir's snack."
With the snack came a potion, which of course aroused Hermione's suspicion.
"I'll try not to pry, but ... are you okay?" Hermione asked. "I mean, you look okay. Even your scar is a lot fainter than it was last year. But drinking a potion usually means that something's not okay, so ..."
"Hold on." Harry used a privacy spell, in case their sleeping compartment mate wasn't as asleep as he let on. "It's a nutrient potion," he admitted and drank it down, leaving a bit for Hermione to try. She did and made a sound of delighted surprise. "It's from Gringotts. They taste tons better than Snape's vile stuff."
"Oh." Hermione's eyes raked over Harry in obvious appreciation, making him blush a little. "Well, good for you! I'm glad you thought of it."
"Yeah, me too," he said softly. Taking her hand, he whispered, "Can you keep it quiet, please? Nobody cared about that before and I don't want the headmaster sticking his nose in it. It's bad enough that he'll send me back to the Dursleys next summer."
"He can go hang," Hermione grumbled, and wasn't that a stunning comment from someone who relied and believed in authority to an almost unhealthy degree. "By the way, the police told my parents that the Dursleys have to go to councelling to get over their unreasonable hate of you. Apparently your uncle is quite, uhm, unhinged. How the Ministry of Magic didn't get wind of it, I'll never know. Wizarding Child Protection Services would've taken other children into protective custody by now."
Harry just shrugged. "Dumbledore thinks he knows best. I got by okay this summer, so I don't have a reason to alert him. As long as they leave me be, I'll be fine."
"Maybe you're right," Hermione muttered, although she was still visibly unhappy. "But you'll tell me if that changes. My parents and I can help without Dumbledore knowing about it."
"I will." Harry offered her the bowl. "Here, have some. Lunch is still an hour away."
"Thanks. What was that spell you just used?"
Harry pulled his book The Art Of Secrecy from his bag and showed her the page he'd marked. "It's called Muffliato and makes it very hard for listeners to understand what we're saying. There are a lot more spells and charms in there, but Muffliato is the one I got right after a few tries."
"Impressive." Hermione read over the instructions. "Can you teach me?"
"Sure," Harry replied. "Now?"
She grinned and drew her wand from her bag. "No time like the present."
Outside, fat raindrops began to fall. Not five minutes later, the rain came down so heavily that it was impossible to see the passing scenery though the window. Lupin slept through their impromptu training, his lap serving as Crookshank's pillow, and didn't even stir when Ron returned and threw himself into the furthest seat from the man.
"I'm hungry," the redheaded boy declared. After spying their books and wands, he spluttered, "Have you really worked on spells? You're both mental."
"Welcome back," Hermione said dryly, accepting Harry's elbow in her side as her due.
"The trolley lady hasn't been by, yet," Harry informed Ron. "Maybe we should wake Lupin so he can get something, as well."
"Why would you do that? He's an adult, he can wake himself." Ron scrunched up his nose. "By the way, why didn't you write to me after I returned from Egypt, Harry? My mum wanted to take you shopping and everything."
"I didn't know when you'd be back. You didn't say in your letter on my birthday," Harry replied. "You also didn't answer to my reply. At least, I didn't get a letter."
Ron opened his mouth, thought it over, and then slumped a little. "Oh. Crikey, you're right. I wrote a letter on the day we got back, but then Scabbers got really sick and I forgot about it. Mum and Dad forgot about it too."
"What happened?" Hermione asked. "Is Scabbers alright?"
"No. He, er, died a couple of days ago." Ron shifted uncomfortably. "He just went to sleep, no big deal. Everyone was saying how old he was for a normal garden rat, anyway."
"Still, losing a pet is hard," Hermione said compassionately. "I wanted Crooks, but I'm not looking forward to ... you know. Even if it's many years in the future, hopefully."
"Me neither," Harry offered. "Hedwig is my girl. I'd be devastated if something happened to her."
Ron's eyes were suspiciously bright, but he put on a brave front. "Yeah, well, it is what it is. My dad promised me a new pet if I do well this year. It's something to look forward to, I guess."
"It is," Hermione said firmly. "What pet would you like? I mean, you will be able to choose, won't you?"
This prompted a rather animated discussion about the merits of various animals, especially since Ron wouldn't be constrained by the first year restrictions.
"Obviously I don't want a toad," Ron said. "They're slimy and really useless. Cats are fine, I suppose, if one just wants to pet them every now and then, but they can't deliver letters and won't play with you whenever you like."
"That sounds like you'd do well with a dog," Hermione said. "They seem to be uncommon, though. Why is that?"
"There are not many magical dog breeds," Ron said, staring at Crookshanks who was lazily staring back. "Most live in Asia, and they're stupidly expensive."
"Why?" Harry asked. "Do they have some kind of special ability?"
"They can be super special," Ron replied, gesticulating animatedly. "Some breeds are really fast and can fetch mail, and some are good in ritual magic, or for channeling innate magical gifts. My brother Charlie knows a lot about them, they have a few at the dragon reservation in Romania."
"I didn't know that." Hermione fished her snarling Monster Book Of Monsters out of her back and petted it absently. "I read a little ahead, but I guess those dogs are class XXX or up magical creatures, so we won't study them until our seventh year."
"All of them are class XXXX, except the grim," Ron said, obviously proud of knowing something the others didn't. "That one's a class XXXXX, and the only magical dog breed native to Britain."
"It's a pity that we won't study one in class, though. I think they're fascinating," Hermione mused. She found the page in her book and showed them the picture of a huge, black dog with fearfully long teeth and impressive claws on his feet.
Ron shuddered. "Yeah, that's the one. No one in their right mind wants to meet one - they're harbingers of death. Like, you see one and you keel over soon after."
"Yes, but why?" she insisted. "What attracts them? Are they just smelling that someone will die? Do they want to let someone know they'll die so that they can get their affairs in order? What about the shock value? What if the whole thing is a self-fulfilling prophecy and people die because they get spooked?"
"What? Ron asked, gaping at her flood of questions. "How should I know? No one's ever returned from studying them."
A knock interrupted them.
"Sweets, dears?" the trolley lady asked with a kind smile. "Might cheer you up on this dreary day."
Hermione chose a piece of cauldron cake and two chocolate frogs. "My parents will kill me if I eat more," she said sheepishly. "Even with the teeth cleaning charm I looked up over the summer."
Harry picked out more chocolate and a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and invited Ron to pick a couple of things as well.
While his friend was busy, Harry nudged Lupin. "Sir? Excuse me, sir, but the food trolley is here."
"Mmh, what?" Bleary-eyed, Lupin shifted. "The trolley?"
"Yeah, we thought you might want something."
Rallying, the man sat up, careful not to dislodge Crookshanks from his lap. "Thank you. Hm, two sandwiches, please. One with ham, the other with chicken."
"Coming right up, dearie," the trolley lady chirped and a moment later two plates filled to overflowing with huge sandwiches and crisps floated towards Lupin. "That'll be seven sickles, please."
Lupin counted out the silver and immediately went to town on his lunch. He made Ron look like an amateur and even had time to feed Crookshanks a piece of chicken while he was at it. He also kept his mouth closed while he chewed, setting a good example and endearing him to Hermione, who had bemoaned Ron's atrocious table manners since they'd started at Hogwarts.
Dobby, being the wonderful friend he was, had packed a hot lunch for both Harry and Hermione, consisting of roast chicken and a rich side salad with lots of avocado, walnuts, pear and rapsberry dressing.
"Where did you get that?" Ron asked enviously. "My mum's only packed sandwiches for us."
The sandwiches did look rather pitiful, Harry had to admit. As wonderful as Mrs. Weasley's cooking was, her talent apparently didn't include making food for the train ride. Thankfully, Dobby had cooked a lot and so Harry was able to let Ron have a full meal, as well.
"Thanks, mate," Ron said and inhaled the fragrance of the chicken. "I dunno what that green stuff is, but the meat sure looks good."
Next to them, clearly trying not to disturb them, Lupin finished off his food and pulled a flask from his coat. The scent of coffee permeated the air and he sighed happily.
"Still tired, sir?" Harry asked, watching the man gulp down two cups of the brew in quick succession.
"I had a long night," Lupin replied. "Third year at Hogwarts?" He pointed at The Monster Book Of Monsters sticking out of Hermione's bag.
"Yes. I'm looking forward to it," Hermione beamed and chewed on her avocado. "We finally got to choose our electives."
"At least you did," Harry grumbled. "I'll have to corner Professor McGonagall and appeal Dumbledore's stupid decision."
"I thought you sent a letter?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "Harry, what happened?"
"I never got a reply," Harry said, trying hard not to let his anger show. "I asked Dobby to watch out for it, but apparently my letter is still lying unopened in her inbox."
Lupin cleared his throat. "I'm, ah, the new professor for Defence Against The Dark Arts, Remus Lupin's the name, and obviously I couldn't help but overhear. Harry - may I call you Harry? - did I understand correctly that you have a problem with your choice of electives?"
"I didn't have a problem with my choices," Harry said. "The headmaster did. He's apparently my magical guardian and decided that I'm not to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes this year."
"What?" Lupin looked aghast. "What is his reason?"
"He didn't give one." Harry decided to go all in. "Professor McGonagall didn't mention in her reply that I could appeal this decision, even though it's the law to make that known to me."
"Yes, it is. Do you still have that letter?"
"Yes, I saved it for the board of govenors." Harry frowned. "Maybe I should contact them directly, seeing how Professor McGonagall doesn't do anything to help me."
"That's very unusual," Lupin said softly. "If you want, I'll support your appeal, and ask Professors Vector and Babbling to do so as well. I'm sure they'd be glad to have you in their class."
"Thanks, professor," Harry said, feeling better already.
"This will be resolved quickly," Lupin assured him. "Give it two weeks, a month at most if people prove to be stubborn."
"And in the meantime?" Hermione asked. "Does Harry have to go to Divination?"
"He shouldn't," Lupin replied, a thoughtful look on his face. His amber eyes glinted a little, even in the dull afternoon light. "It could be taken as an admission that he's not as opposed to the class as he's made it known."
"Independent study, then." Hermione pulled a notepad from her bag and started writing. "I'll do it with him, we can work with the beginner material of Runes or Arithmancy."
"That's very generous of you, Miss ..."
"Granger. Hermione Granger." Decisively, Hermione stuck out her hand for Lupin to shake. "Nice to meet you. My friends are Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley."
"Hello," Lupin replied with a smile, not showing the least bit of surprise at learning either Harry or Ron's last name. "The professors will support you, of course, and hand out little assignments to keep you busy and cement your case."
Ron huffed. "I still don't get why you won't just take Divination, Harry. It's such an easy OWL! Don't you want a break from You-Know-Who being after you?"
Lupin shook his head before Harry could answer. "A break is all well and good in the short term, Ronald-"
"No, Ron, please! My mum calls me Ron when I'm in trouble!"
That made Lupin laugh a little. "Ron, then. In the short term, breaks might be advisable, but hopefully there's a whole life for Harry to live once school is over. For that, he needs to be prepared."
"But Runes are hard," Ron moaned. "And Arithmancy is a horror! My brother Bill studied both like crazy - he's a ward breaker at Gringotts - and talked of nothing else! Barmy, he was."
"And now?" Hermione needled. "You went to visit him; how is he doing now? Is he resting on his laurels, or is he still educating himself?"
Ron looked as if he'd bitten into a particularly sour lemon. "He's still at it, but at least he took time off to show us the sights and stuff. I don't get why he needs to work so much, or be the best ward breaker on his team. It's not like he even shares his money with us!"
"Ron ..." Hermione glanced at Harry. "If he's worked for it, it's his money. That's the whole point! People work so they can have enough money for a comfortable life. Bill being team leader at his age ... and I assume he's in his early twenties ... is fantastic. It speaks of an incredible work ethic, and of course talent and dedication to his chosen profession. The goblins must be very happy to have him work for them."
"You sound like a friggin' grown up," Ron groused.
"I'm just very interested in making the most out of my opportunities," Hermione said evenly. "You should do the same. Hogwarts isn't cheap, you know. Getting all of you through seven years of education must be really hard on your parents. They're sacrificing a lot for you."
"Whatever," Ron mumbled, cheeks flushing a dull red. "I still think doing both Runes and Arithmancy is mental."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe, but I want to give it a try."
"You won't regret it," Lupin said encouragingly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I still have a bit of sleep to catch up on ..."
Awed, the three teens looked on as Lupin buried himself back under his cloak, Crookshanks resuming his position on his lap, and fell asleep in three seconds flat.
"Incredible," Harry said. "I wish I could do that."
"Or maybe not," Hermione added, delicately pointing out the dark circles under Lupin's eyes and the pallor of his skin. "The price would be too high."
"What is she talking about?" Ron asked, bewildered.
Thankfully, Malfoy and his cronies chose that moment to make their appearance.
"Well, well, well, the scarhead, the know-it-all, and the weasel," the blond boy said with a haughty sneer. "Still sticking to each other in an attempt to rise from mediocrity, I see."
"What does that even mean?" Hermione demanded. "If I remember correctly, I beat out everyone from your house. In fact, you weren't even among the top ten of our year group, Malfoy. I wonder what your father had to say about that."
Malfoy's eyes gleamed wickedly. "He wasn't thrilled, of course, but really, competing against a Dagworth-Granger? He didn't hold it against me."
"Is that so?" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "That still doesn't explain your underperformance. You should've come second, then, not twelfth."
Apparently running out of arguments, Malfoy took notice of Lupin's sleeping form. "Whatever, Granger. Who is that? The new caretaker for Hogwarts? It's about time, Filch was a disgrace."
"He's our new DADA professor," Ron said angrily.
"Shove off, Malfoy. Or would you like us to wake him up?" Harry asked threateningly.
"Hiding behind a professor, are you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Come, Crabbe, Goyle, this is getting boring. Let's see how many chocolate frogs Parkinson has left."
They marched off, leaving the compartment door open as a last insult.
"He's such a smug little bastard," Hermione hissed as she closed the door with a little swish of her wand.
"What did he mean, you being a Dagworth-Granger?" Ron stared at her.
"It means that my ancestor was Hector Dagworth-Granger," Hermione replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "So what if he was clever? Many people are. It's no excuse for laziness and entitlement."
"He was rich, though, wasn't he?"
"Ron-"
"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Ron huffed. "Honestly, Hermione, I'm gone for like three weeks and it's like I don't even exist anymore!"
"You didn't even tell me you were going to Egypt!" Hermione cried, exasperated.
Ron glowered. "It's not the same thing."
Harry could feel the next huge argument coming and sighed to himself. He liked Ron, most of the time, but this was too much.
"She only learned of it on Saturday," he said quietly. "Leave her alone, Ron."
"Why should I?" Ron gesticulated wildly. "She's probably adopted the family name, too, just because it will make her more famous! She'll be rubbing elbows with Malfoy next, just you wait!"
Hermione's mouth dropped open in indignant shock. "The whole thing is very new for me, and maybe I wanted to come to terms with it by myself first. And no, I haven't even considered taking up Hector's name - I didn't even know I could!"
"Well, now you know!"
Hermione began stuffing her things into her bag. "I've had enough of the stupid things that come out of your mouth, Ronald. I'm going to find Neville and Ginny. At least they won't hold things I don't have any control over against me. Sorry, Harry. I'll see you later."
Furious with Ron, Harry watched her go. "You're the worst, Ron."
"Why me?" the redhead cried. "She's got secrets! You don't do that among friends!"
"Everybody's got secrets," Harry said angrily. "So what if her inheritance is a matter of public record? It's still her decision whom to tell what, and when. Besides, she literally has known since Saturday, and today is Wednesday, you great git! Doesn't she deserve even a couple of days to make sense of it all? I needed a month to really understand what it all means, and I still don't really get it!"
Ron, of course, went right for the jugular. "So you've known from the beginning, haven't you?"
"It was hard not to, we went to Diagon Alley together to buy our stuff. It just came up at Gringotts." Harry scowled. "It's got nothing to do with you, Ron, so let it go already. I mean it."
"Or what?" Ron challenged.
"Or you can look for a new best friend," Harry snapped, suddenly fed up with the other boy's hostile attitude. "If you can't be happy for her, what use is it to hang out together? It'll only make both of you mad."
"And of course you'll take her side, again," Ron sneered.
"She didn't do anything to you!" Harry breathed hard to calm his rapidly rising temper. "Get that into your thick head! You are the one badgering and insulting her, not the other way around!" Confronted with Ron's mulish scowl, Harry reached the end of his rope. "You know what? I'll go sit with Hermione. I'm so done with your jealousy or whatever."
He quickly stuffed his things into his bag and stepped out of the compartment. Standing behind the closed door, it felt like he could finally breathe again.
"Dobby?" he whispered, only jumping a little when the elf appeared silently before him. "Do you know where Hermione went?"
"Dobby be showing Harry Potter sir," Dobby squeaked and skipped ahead until they reached the compartment. Hermione had put half the train between her and Ron, not that Harry could blame her. "She be here. Miss Mione be very angry with the Wheezy boy."
"Yeah, I know." Harry smiled crookedly. "I'll try to make it better. Thank you."
"Dobby be going and looking after Harry Potter sir's things," Dobby declared and vanished with a little pop.
Despite seeing through the open curtain who was sitting in the compartment, Harry still knocked and waited to be called in.
"Hey," he said, waving at Neville, Ginny, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. "Can I sit with you for a while?"
"Weasley chased you off, as well?" Susan asked with a little bit of bite in her tone. When Harry nodded, she rolled her eyes. "I don't get him."
Harry squeezed in between Hermione and Ginny and put his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. It galled him to notice the smudged tear tracks on her cheeks. "He's being a git so I left him to it."
"Good choice," Ginny said with a huff. "I'll tell mum so she can send him a howler. He deserves it."
Neville cringed. "The rest of us don't, though."
That made them all chuckle, even Hermione. With a sigh, she snuggled against Harry. "Thanks for looking after me."
"We'll have to go back at one point. I've got tea and cake," he joked. "It's safe from Ron, but, well."
The others laughed again and soon they forgot about Ron's temper tantrum, choosing to play Exploding Snap and solve the crossword riddle in the Daily Prophet.
When four o'clock came and went, Harry led Hermione back to their compartment. Outside, it had gotten very dark, and the rain was pounding against the side of the train.
"It's scary, isn't it?" Hermione said, biting her lip. "I've never seen a storm like this."
Seamus Finnigan, who was taking a break outside his compartment to stretch his legs, agreed. "It's gotten mighty cold, too. Dunno what's up with the weather."
"I'll put my robes on," Hermione said. "That should do it."
At their compartment, Harry looked inside carefully and was relieved to notice that Ron was gone. They entered, locked the door and then Harry played host and pulled delicate china cups full of steaming tea and two plates with strawberry cake and whipped cream from his bag.
"Dobby will have to show me how he's doing that," Hermione grinned. She inhaled the aroma of her tea and hummed happily. "Magic can be so wonderful. Where is he, by the way?"
"He's popped out for a moment," Harry said, thinking of the little elf's toils on Potter's Field. "But he'll be back soon, I think."
Enjoying the cake was easy and the tea warmed them pleasantly from the inside. However, it soon seemed to get colder and colder, no matter how hot the tea was. It was bad enough for ice crystals to begin growing on their window.
"Harry, something's not right," Hermione said, setting her plate aside. Her teeth chattered violently. "It's so silent!"
She was right. Harry tilted his head, trying to catch the murmur of conversation or the sound of wandering feet, but there was nothing. "And it's icy in here all of a sudden," he said in a low voice. Shivering, Hermione came to his side when he stretched out his arm. In the other, he held his wand. "Can you wake Lupin?"
"Yes." Hermione flicked her wand. "Enervate!"
As the spell hit the professor, the window of the compartment door began freezing over. Crunching quietly, the ice spread further and further over the window pane, and the sound of someone breathing deeply, unevenly, raised all of Harry's hair, even the ones on his arms and shins.
Lupin sputtered awake, sending Crookshanks flying as he flailed. "What!"
"Something's wrong, Professor!" Hermione cried. "Look at the door!"
The knob rattled insistently, but the locking charm held.
"Something's trying to get in!" Harry said. "I don't know many protective spells ..."
The whole door shook and the temperature dropped a further few degrees. Something pulled at Harry, pulled insistently at his memories, and dredged the scum to the surface. In front of his eyes, the tall, willowy shadow behind the door formed into Uncle Vernon, and his smug laughter rang in his ears.
"No," he said through gritted teeth. "Stay away ..."
In his embrace, Hermione began to sob. "What is that thing?"
"Get behind me," Lupin ordered. He went to the door, yanked it open to Harry and Hermione's horror, and raised his wand. "Sirius Black is not on this train! Search elsewhere for him!"
The large, dark presence, some kind of demon in a dark, ragged robe, didn't move. It hovered in the air like a cloud of foul air, waiting, waiting ...
"I said, leave!" Lupin said sharply, sounding remarkably in control.
The thing drew a rattling breath and something green flashed up at the edge of Harry's vision. He gasped for breath as Aunt Petunia and Dudley joined Vernon in his maniacal laughter. It got louder and louder and the vision in front of his eyes grew larger and larger.
"You leave me no choice ... Expecto Patronum!" Some kind of large and silver shape burst from Lupin's wand and immediately attacked the looming thing, going straight for the neck. Unnoticed by the man, Dobby suddenly popped in and gave the dementor a mighty push with his magic.
Shrieking, the foul creature jerked back, turned, and fled to the back of the train, where it threw itself from the open rear door.
Stunned and as cold as they were, Harry and Hermione still crowded around Lupin and looked to the other compartments. More silver lights erupted, and ghastly screams made their ears hurt. Dobby made himself invisible, but knowing that he was near was a great comfort to Harry.
"Thanks," he whispered, certain that Dobby would hear him.
"What are those things?" Hermione cried over the noise. "Demons?"
"Close enough," Lupin replied grimly. "That was a dementor. Foul beings that are neither alive, nor dead. They're very, very dangerous."
"I read about them." Hermione took a shaky breath. "They guard Azkaban, and they eat souls."
"Yes, they do." Lupin relaxed a little and turned to the teens. "I'm sorry that one got so close to you. Here, take some chocolate. It works wonders against dementor exposure."
Gratefully, Harry and Hermione each accepted a thick piece of milk chocolate and nibbled on it.
"What about you, Professor?" Harry asked. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. I'll help the aurors on the train chase the last of these monsters away. You stay here, alright?"