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She was in Ancient Runes again, her last class of the day. Hermione would have been eager to get through the lesson and then be able to jump on her homework, but Professor Babbling had just assigned a group project and had told them to get into groups of four. All of Hermione's primary school misery at not having friends to group up with came rushing back. Why? Professor Babbling had never assigned a group project before! Why suddenly in the last term? She had just been about to ask the professor if she could do the assignment by herself when the root of all her current academic misery reared her hatefully beautiful head. Potter cocked her head and smiled pleasantly at Hermione. "Want to join our group for the project? Ron's told me you're amazing in runes." Did she just . . . ? Tears of awe and relief prickled Hermione's eyes. "Yes, thank you," she croaked. "I'd love to." Hermione Granger loved Heri Potter. She loved the other girl with all the piety of a heretic just now seeing the light. Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of Heri's wand — it looked like a wisp of silvery gas. "Did you see that?" said Heri excitedly. "Something happened!" When classes started again after the winter holiday, Heri had sought out Professor Lupin for anti-dementor lessons. She had talked to him about them before, but he was too busy at the time. Fortunately, his schedule had cleared up and he now had time to teach her the spell he had used on the train to drive away the dementors. They were in the History of Magic classroom, and Professor Lupin had brought a boggart in a locked trunk. They, of course, couldn't work with a real dementor, but the professor concluded that a boggart-dementor would better suit their purpose. "Very good," said Professor Lupin, smiling. "Right, then — ready to try it on a dementor?" The first few times against the boggart-dementor failed miserably. Though it wasn't as potent as a true dementor, the boggart was still very convincing. Heri ended on the floor both times, tears running down her face and shudders wracking her form. Professor Lupin looked terribly guilty. "Listen, Heri — perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced. . . . I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this. . . ." "No!" said Heri. She got up again. "Please, sir, I must be just doing something wrong! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is. . . . Hang on. . . ." She racked her brains. A really, really happy memory . . . one that she could turn into a good, strong Patronus . . . The moment when she'd first found out she was a witch and would be leaving the Dursleys for Hogwarts! If that wasn't a happy memory, she didn't know what was. Concentrating very hard on how she had felt when she'd realised she'd be leaving Privet Drive, Heri got to her feet and faced the packing case once more. "Ready?" said Professor Lupin, who looked as though he were doing this against his better judgment. "Concentrating hard? All right — go!" He pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the dementor rose out of it — the room fell cold and dark — "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Heri bellowed. The screaming and flashes of images inside Heri's head had started again — except this time, it was as though it were coming from a badly cabled television — softer and louder and softer again — and she could still see the dementor — it had halted — and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Heri's wand, to hover between her and the dementor, and though Harry's legs felt like water, she was still on her feet — though for how much longer, she wasn't sure — "Riddikulus!" roared Professor Lupin, springing forward. There was a loud crack, and Heri's cloudy Patronus vanished along with the dementor. She sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if she'd just run a mile, and felt her legs shaking. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Professor Lupin forcing the boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb. Excellent!" Lupin said, striding over to where Heri sat. "Excellent, Heri! That was definitely a start!" The praise was welcomed, as were the obvious results. They ended the lesson there with an agreement that they would continue at a later date. Sirius Black was spotted again, this time actually in the Gryffindor dorms. The word was that he was slashing open Ron's bed-curtains when the boy woke up the tower with his screams. And, to make things worse, he had escaped again. Professor McGonagall had torn into their new portrait guardian when he told her that he had let Black in and she just about murdered Neville when she found out that he had left out a list of the passwords the portrait guardian would use. Neville had come sniffling to Heri when it came about that the other Gryffindors were snubbing him again because they were angry with him and because Professor McGonagall had ordered them to not tell Neville the password anymore. Heri could understand her reasoning, but as she comforted Neville in his misery, she couldn't help but think that the Professor was being too harsh. Professor McGonagall was not the only professor that amped up House security. Though Black seemed fixated on Gryffindor, all Heads of House circled the wagons. No one was allowed to go anywhere without at least two other people accompanying them. Now, this might not have bothered Heri if it wasn't for the fact that it came about that she couldn't go anywhere without all six of her friends and a prefect to boot. And even with that, her friends picked up on their hovering. If it wasn't for her invisibility cloak and Time-Tuner, she wouldn't have had a moment's peace. Heri jabbed her needle furiously into the soft cloth she was embroidering and hissed when she pricked her thumb. She stuck the wounded appendage into her mouth and glowered at the now blood-dotted handkerchief.