Harry knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didn't stop him from being angry with her. He had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of her interference, he didn't know whether he would ever see it again. He was positive that there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt now, but what sort of state would it be in once it had been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests?
Ron was furious with Hermione too. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage. Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Y/n had been showing in it less since the Christmas argument himself as well. While he remained on fine terms with Harry he found Ron's behaviour to be childish. Harry and Ron supposed they had taken refuge in the library and didn't try to persuade either to come back. All in all, they were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again. Wood sought Harry out on the night before term started.
"Had a good Christmas?" he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, "I've been, doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After last match, you know. If the Dementors come to the next one...I mean... we can't afford you to... well..." Wood broke off, looking awkward.
"I'm working on it." said Harry quickly. "Professor Lupin said he'd let me join in on lessons with Y/n to ward off the Dementors. We should be starting this week. He said he'd have time after Christmas."
"Ah." said Wood, his expression clearing. "Well, in that case...I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?"
"No." said Harry.
"What! You'd better get a move on, you know, you can't ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!"
"He got a Firebolt for Christmas." said Ron.
"A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A...a real Firebolt?"
"Don't get excited, Oliver." said Harry gloomily. "I haven't got it anymore. It was confiscated." And he explained all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes.
"Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?"
"Sirius Black." Harry said wearily. "He's supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent it. "
Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after his Seeker, Wood said, "But Black couldn't have bought a Firebolt! He's on the run! The whole country's on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?"
"I know." said Harry. "But McGonagall still wants to strip it down..."
Wood went pale. "I'll go and talk to her, Harry." he promised. "I'll make her see reason... A Firebolt... a real Firebolt, on our team ... She wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do... I'll make her see sense. A Firebolt...."
Classes started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun. Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life line she had ever seen.
It was Defense Against the Dark Arts that Y/n was keen to get to. Now that Christmas was over he wanted to get started on his and Harry's anti-Dementor lessons with Lupin as soon as possible.
"Ah yes." said Lupin, when Harry was the first to remind him of his promise to them both at the end of class. "Let me see... how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough...Does that work for you both?"
Both Y/n and Harry nodded their heads.
"I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this... We can't bring a real Dementor into the castle to practice on..."
"Would it be possible to use a boggart sir?" Y/n suggested.
"Excellent thinking Y/n, A boggart would work wonderfully for practice." Lupin praised him.
"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" said Ron as he, Y/n and Harry walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?"
There was a loud and impatient "tuh" from behind them. It was Hermione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armor, repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close.
"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably.
"Nothing." said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder. Y/n could only guess the weight of her bag.
"Yes, you were." said Ron. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you..."
"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority.
"If you don't want to tell us, don't." snapped Ron.
"Fine." said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off.
"She doesn't know." said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. "She's just trying to get us to talk to her again..."
"Oh how wrong you are..." Y/n sighed as he walked after Hermione now.
"What do you suppose that means?" Harry asked Ron.
"Nothing, he's just taking Hermione's side...as usual." Ron complained.
Y/n caught up to Hermione now who was once again crouched down and struggling with her bag full of heavy books. Though her added frustrations with Ron was making everything more difficult.
"Here, give me some of your books." Y/n said to her as he moved his bag from his shoulder to the front and opened it.
Hermione looked up at him but instead of arguing she just began to silently take some of books out and handed them to him one by one as he placed them in his bag. He then held out his hand to her and helped her up.
"You are going to hurt your back if you keep up carrying these books everyday." Y/n started as they began to walk towards the Great Hall.
Hermione just huffed. "I need them. I have a lot of coursework and Homework that I have to go through. Keeping them on hand saves me time."
Y/n decided not to take it any further in case Hermione became further annoyed. "Judging by your earlier reaction, I can only assume you have reached the same conclusions about Professor Lupin as I have."
"You mean his 'illness'?" Hermione asked and Y/n nodded.
At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, Y/n and Harry left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when they both arrived, but Y/n lit the lamps with his wand and waited only five minutes when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binn's desk.
"I see you were successful in finding a Boggart sir." said Y/n looking at the case.
"Indeed I was." said Lupin, stripping off his cloak. "I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees Harry, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him, there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."
Y/n nodded his head.
"Okay." said Harry, trying to sound as though he wasn't apprehensive at all and merely glad that Lupin had found such a good substitute for a real Dementor.
"So..." Professor Lupin had taken out his own wand, and indicated that Y/n and Harry should do the same. "The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level."
"How does it work?" said Harry nervously.
"Well, when it works correctly, It conjures up a Patronus." said Lupin, "Which is a kind of anti-Dementor, A guardian that acts as a shield between you and the Dementor. The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon, hope, happiness, the desire to survive... but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you both, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."
"I understand Professor, but I still would like to try." Y/n said determined.
"What does a Patronus look like?" Harry asked curiously.
"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it." Lupin replied.
Y/n wondered what his would looking like.
"And how do you conjure it?" Harry asked.
"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory. "
"A happy memory?" Y/n asked and Lupin nodded.
Y/n closed his eyes and cast his mind about for a happy memory. At first he thought of memory from when he was younger and he and Atticus would play together before the latter's attitude changed. The memory felt too bittersweet now, A reminder of days lost. He kept searching until finally, he settled on a moment he hadn't quite expected too.
"I think I am ready." Y/n said.
"Me too...I think." Harry added.
"The incantation is this..." Lupin cleared his throat. "Expecto patronum!"
"Expecto patronum." Y/n and Harry repeated under their breath. "Expecto patronum."
"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?" Lupin asked them.
"Yes sir." Y/n said.
"Oh... yeah..." said Harry quickly. "Expecto patrono...no, patronum... sorry...expecto patronum, expecto patronum."
Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his wand, it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.
"Did you see that?" said Harry excitedly. "Something happened!"
"Very good,." said Lupin, smiling. "Now you try Y/n."
Y/n focused on his memory for a few moments. "Expecto patronum!" He uttered with determination and unlike Harry a silver shadow came bursting out of the end of his wand. It formed a shield of sorts in front of him. He could only hold it for a few moments before it died out.
"Well done boys." Lupin said impressed that they both had managed. "Right, then, ready to try it on a Dementor?"
"Yes." Harry said, gripping his wand very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom first as Y/n stood on sidelines and watched.
Lupin grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled.
A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him...
"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto..."
Y/n saw Harry was falling again and Professor Lupin moved but stopped when Y/n called out to him.
"May I have an attempt Professor?" Y/n asked not wanting to waste the opportunity.
"You'll have to be very quick Y/n." Professor Lupin. "Before the Boggart changes to your own."
Y/n nodded and stepped forward towards Harry and the Boggart. The Boggart took notice of Y/n now and his skin grew cold. He furrowed his brow and focused on hard on his chosen memory.
"Expecto patronum." Y/n called out now as the Dementor Boggart hovered towards him but nothing happened. Y/n skin grew colder and he closed his eyes now.
His mind was flashing back to Christmas morning and when he had given Hermione her gift. How happy she was to receive them and the warm hug she had given him in return.
"Expecto patronum!" Y/n shouted now but instead of the silver shadow from before a cat of silver appeared to take shape as Y/n and Lupin looked shocked.
The cat darted between Y/n and the Boggart now as it repelled it backwards.
Lupin snapped himself out of his shock and raised his wand now. "Riddikulus."
There was a loud crack, and Y/n's Cat Patronus vanished along with the Dementor. Y/n fell to sit on the floor immediately feeling exhausted as if he'd just run a mile, and felt his legs shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor Lupin forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with his wand, it had turned into a silvery orb again.
"Professor Lupin...You are a werewolf aren't you sir?" Y/n decided to carefully ask.
Professor Lupin locked the case now before he turned to Y/n. "You really are an extraordinary wizard Mr Grindelwald. Tell me, how did you work it out?"
"It was when I saw your Boggart that I first had I an idea. Everyone thought it was a crystal ball but I knew it was the moon." Y/n started. "Then when Harry told us about the potion Snape brought you, It is Wolfsbane correct?"
Lupin just nodded as he listened and relit the classroom lamps with his wand.
"Then the last clue I had was all your sick days have fallen in line with days of the full moon." Y/n finished.
"Well then, there you have it." Lupin said. "And what will you do with this information?"
"Nothing sir." Y/n said truthfully and Lupin looked at him. "I am not the type of person to use anothers misfortune to try gain an advantage. I have great respect for you Professor Lupin, I would even go as far to say you are one my most favorited teachers. The fact you are a Werewolf does not matter to me, for you are in my eyes just Professor Lupin."
"I thank you Y/n." Lupin said now. "There are not many who share that sentiment in regard to Werewolves." Lupin told him.
"I find it shame. For as great as Wizards claim to be, We have a general closed mindedness in our views of others which helps to cause a great amount of the problems we suffer."
"You really are very different from your parents." Lupin said.
"My Parents..." Y/n repeated. "Did...you know them?" He then asked.
Lupin looked reluctant but carried on. "Not personally, I fought your father once with a friend of mine."
Y/n pushed himself up now. "What happened?" He asked cautiously.
"I cannot tell you the details I am afraid as it was a private mission from Dumbledore. However what I will say is that your father certainly lived up to his reputation, even with two of us it proved a difficult duel. I barely escaped with my life. My friend was not so lucky..."
"I am sorry about your friend..." Y/n said as he closed his eyes and hung his head low.
Lupin stepped forward and placed his hand on Y/n's shoulder. "It is not for you to bear the weight of their actions." Lupin told him. "You are your own person Y/n. Your parents misdeeds are their own failings in the same way that your accomplishments are your own achievements."
Harry jerked back to life in catching the two's attention and ending the conversation. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again.
"Sorry..." he muttered, sitting up and feeling cold sweat trickling down behind his glasses.
"Are you all right?" said Lupin.
"Yes..." Harry pulled himself up on one of the desks and leaned against it.
"Here..." Lupin handed him a Chocolate Frog. "Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it your first time, in fact, I was astounded when Y/n managed too."
"You managed to do it?" Harry asked Y/n surprised.
"Yes." Y/n nodded. "But only because my memory was strong."
Harry didn't feel like this was quite true however, Y/n had always been quick at learning magic.
"It's getting worse." Harry muttered, biting off the Frog's head. "I could hear her louder that time... and him...Voldemort..."
Lupin looked paler than usual. "Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand..."
"I do!" said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. "I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!"
"All right then..." said Lupin. "Y/n you may call it night, You have already learned the spell and just require practice now."
"I understand." Y/n nodded. "Thank you. Professor." Y/n bowed his head.
"Before you go, here." Lupin said and offered Y/n a chocolate frog.
Y/n thanked him and took it. He waved to Harry and Lupin then left the room.
"Shall we get back to it then Harry? You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on...That one you used doesn't seem to have been strong enough." Lupin advised.
Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Lupin's anti-Dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, Y/n and Harry had just one night a week to do all their homework.
Even so, no one was showing strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione sat in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes, she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted.
"How's she doing it?" Ron muttered one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. Y/n looked up from his book to see Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.
"Doing what exactly?" Y/n asked Ron.
"Getting to all her classes!" Ron said. "I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermione can't've been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she's never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she's never missed one of them either!"
Y/n contemplated trying to convince Hermione to take a break. He was worried about her now as she began to overwork herself more often than not. When he had tried to point this out to her she became very defensive and said she needed to work this hard to stay on top of all her subjects.
Harry though didn't have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione's impossible schedule at the moment, he really needed to get on with Snape's essay. Two seconds later, however, he was interrupted again, this time by Wood.
"Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She... er... got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first." Wood shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me... you'd think I'd said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it." He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice. "'As long as necessary, Wood...' I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick, you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy's got."
"I'm not buying anything Malfoy thinks is good." said Harry flatly.
"I offered him to borrow my Nimbus Wood, Harry is just being stubborn." Y/n said
January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. He was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Ron standing hopefully at his shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted.
"No, Potter, you can't have it back yet." Professor McGonagall told him the twelfth time this happened, before he'd even opened his mouth. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me. "
To make matters even worse, Harry's anti-Dementor lessons were not going nearly as well as he had hoped. Several sessions on, he was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Dementor approached him, but his Patronus was too feeble to drive the Dementor away. All it did was hover, like a semitransparent cloud, draining Harry of energy as he fought to keep it there. Harry felt angry with himself, guilty about his secret desire to hear his parents' voices again.
"You're expecting too much of yourself," said Professor Lupin, sternly in their fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"
"Y/n can do it..." Harry said a little jealous.
"Grindelwald dare I say...is a very talented young wizard." Lupin assured him.
"I thought a Patronus would...charge the Dementors down or something." said Harry dispiritedly. "Make them disappear..."
"The true Patronus does do that." said Lupin. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, You will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground. "
"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," said Harry.
"I have complete confidence in you." said Lupin, smiling. "Here...you've earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks. You won't have tried it before..."
He pulled two bottles out of his briefcase.
"Butterbeer!" said Harry, without thinking. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"
Lupin raised an eyebrow.
"Oh...Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade," Harry lied quickly.
"I see," said Lupin, though he still looked slightly suspicious. "Well...let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher..." he added hastily.
They drank the butterbeer in silence, until Harry voiced something he'd been wondering for a while.
"What's under a Dementor's hood?"
Professor Lupin lowered his bottle thoughtfully.
"Hmmm...well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor lowers its hood only to use its last and worst weapon. "
"What's that?"
"They call it the Dementor's Kiss." said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and...and suck out his soul. "
Harry accidentally spat out a bit of butterbeer.
"What...they kill..."
"Oh no." said Lupin. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no...anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever...lost."
Lupin drank a little more butterbeer, then said. "It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him."
Harry sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then he thought of Black.
"He deserves it." he said suddenly.
"You think so?" said Lupin lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"
"Yes." said Harry defiantly. "For...for some things..."
He would have liked to have told Lupin about the conversation he'd overheard about Black in the Three Broomsticks, about Black betraying his mother and father, but it would have involved revealing that he'd gone to Hogsmeade without permission, and he knew Lupin wouldn't be very impressed by that. So he finished his butterbeer, thanked Lupin, and left the History of Magic classroom.
Harry half wished that he hadn't asked what was under a Dementor's hood, the answer had been so horrible, and he was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that he walked headlong into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs.
"Do watch where you're going, Potter!"
"Sorry, Professor..."
"I've just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room, Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all, you've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter..."
Harry's jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever.
"I can have it back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"
"Seriously." said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter...do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night..."
Speechless, Harry carried the Firebolt back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower. As he turned a corner, he saw Ron dashing toward him, grinning from ear to ear. "She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?"
"Yeah... anything." said Harry, his heart lighter than it had been in a month. "You know what...we should make up with Hermione. . . She was only trying to help. . . "
"Yeah, all right." said Ron. "She and Y/n are in the common room now instead of the library...for a change. I think he's still trying to convince her to give up some subjects."
They turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville Longbottom, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance.
"I wrote them down!" Neville was saying tearfully. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"
"A likely tale!" roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harry and Ron, "Good even, my fine young yeomen! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"
"Oh, shut up." said Ron as he and Harry drew level with Neville.
"I've lost the passwords!" Neville told them miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"
"Oddsbodkins," said Harry to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let them into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry was surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt.
"Where'd you get it, Harry?"
"Will you let me have a go?"
"Have you ridden it yet, Harry?"
"Ravenclaw'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweep Sevens!"
"Can I just hold it, Harry?"
After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was Passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Harry and Ron had a clear view of Hermione, the only person who hadn't rushed over to them, bent over her work and carefully avoiding their eyes. Harry and Ron approached her table and at last, she looked up.
"I got it back." said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt.
"Good, You can stop complaining now then." Y/n said reading over an essay Hermione had asked him to look at.
"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.
"Well...there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"
"Yeah, I suppose so." said Harry. "I'd better put it upstairs."
"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic." He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase.
"Can I sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione.
"I suppose so." said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.
Harry looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay ('Explain Why Muggles Need Electricity') and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over.
"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked her.
"Oh, well...you know, working hard." said Hermione as Harry saw Y/n give her a look. Close-up, Harry saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin.
"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.
"That is what I have been trying to persuade her to do." Y/n said to Harry.
"And I've told you I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking at Y/n scandalized.
"I am only trying to look out for you Hermione. You are looking more exhausted as each day goes by." Y/n told her.
Hermione didn't look to pleased by Y/n's comment.
"Arithmancy looks terrible." said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.
"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly. "It's my favorite subject! It's..."
But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, Y/n and Harry never found out. At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder...and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet.
"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.
"Ron, what..." Y/n began.
"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"
Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Y/n looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like...
"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"
"N...no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.
Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. Hermione and Y/n leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.