Dementors Onboard
Draco Malfoy’s return to Malfoy Manor was met with tension and a cold silence that spoke louder than words. Lucius Malfoy, furious at Draco for his perceived failure, avoided him at all costs, an act of neglect that wounded Draco more than any outburst. Yet it was during one evening in the study, where the low firelight cast long shadows, that Draco realized the horrifying truth: it had been Lucius who implanted Tom Riddle’s diary into his possession, intending for him to be consumed by it. The weight of betrayal crushed him, and the thought of staying in the house made his chest constrict with dread.
Draco left. He Apparated to Neville Longbottom’s home, where he was met with surprise and caution. After listening to Draco’s story, Augusta Longbottom’s stern expression softened into an unexpected look of concern. Without hesitation, she welcomed him into their home, treating him as another grandson. Neville, who had always struggled in Potions, found in Draco an eager teacher. In turn, Draco learned Herbology from Neville, their shared lessons giving them both a sense of purpose and friendship. The two boys grew proficient, each finding joy in their newly discovered strengths.
Meanwhile, Daniel Granger returned to Stark Mansion, where his father, Howard, was immersed in his latest invention. Daniel decided to create something of his own: a simple but loyal bot, affectionately named Dummy. For Daniel, Dummy was more than a creation—he was the first step in following in his father’s ingenious footsteps, a tangible reminder that he too was capable of greatness.
Sage Potter’s summer was a brutal ordeal. The Dursleys pushed her beyond human limits, demanding she work eighteen or more hours each day, her meals scarce and meager. Dudley, now more aware and remorseful for his past actions, began sneaking her food when he could, offering what little comfort he could manage. The arrival of Aunt Marge brought an even harsher turn; the taunting, the relentless berating, left Sage more exhausted than ever. Her cupboard, where she barely fit anymore at four foot five, became her prison. Hedwig, her snowy owl, sensed her distress and often brought messages of comfort to Draco, who still bore a haunted look from his encounter with the diary. Sage, though deeply scarred by her own trauma, didn’t blame him for the horrors that unfolded in the Chamber.
When September came, Sage arrived at Platform 9¾ a shadow of herself—thin, weary, eyes sunken and dim. The Dursleys had given her an overwhelming list of tasks to complete before her departure, leaving her with barely any sleep or nourishment for days. What little energy she had left was thanks to Dudley’s stolen snacks.
Boarding the Hogwarts Express, she searched for an empty carriage. Most were full, their occupants chattering excitedly about the year ahead. She paused at one where a man in frayed robes rested his head against the window, apparently asleep. Something about his presence felt safe, and she instinctively knew this space would offer her respite. She set her trunk down, exhaustion overwhelming her. Before she realized it, she had curled up beside the stranger, her head resting on his lap, clutching his hand like a lifeline. She drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, unaware of the surprised glance the man gave her as he stirred slightly, taking in the girl’s fragile form. His gaze softened before he closed his eyes again, choosing not to move.
Remus Lupin sat quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he carded his hand gently through Sage’s reddish-black hair. The motion was almost instinctive, a memory embedded in his very bones. When Sage was younger, she would always crawl to him after playing with her father and Sirius—before the betrayal and the darkness—and settle herself on his lap, trusting that he would guard her sleep from any disturbance. Now, seeing her so weary and small, he felt an old, fierce protectiveness stir within him.
The compartment door slid open, and four students stepped in. Remus recognized them instantly: Neville Longbottom with his open, earnest face; Draco Malfoy, who nodded at him with newfound confidence; Ron Weasley, with the signature red hair of his family; and a boy who reminded him strikingly of a young Tony Stark—Daniel Granger, as he learnt later. Daniel’s sharp eyes took in the scene, his gaze shifting from Sage to Remus’s old, battered trunk, labeled with a faded joke courtesy of James and Sirius: Prof. R.J. Lupin.
Understanding lit up Daniel’s eyes, and he stepped forward, extending a hand. “I’m Daniel Granger,” he introduced, his voice confident but edged with curiosity. “We’re Sage’s friends.”
Remus’s eyebrows rose, a brief flicker of surprise flitting across his features. He had half-expected the boy to claim Stark heritage, given his uncanny resemblance and mannerisms, but Daniel’s words confirmed otherwise.
“These are Neville, Draco, and Ron,” Daniel continued, introducing each in turn. His gaze returned to Sage, a glint of protectiveness sharpening his expression. “Why is Sage asleep on your lap?” he asked, a note of challenge lacing his voice.
Remus met the boy’s eyes steadily, an amused warmth behind them. “She came in, set her trunk down, sat beside me for a few minutes, and before I knew it, she was fast asleep. I didn’t have the heart to move her.”
Daniel considered this explanation before nodding slowly. “Alright,” he said, a small smile softening his wary expression.
With that, the boys settled in, the compartment filling with chatter. Draco exchanged a knowing look with Remus, while Ron and Neville began to discuss their hopes for the upcoming year. The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels echoed beneath them, carrying them all toward Hogwarts and whatever awaited them next.
The Hogwarts Express rattled steadily along the tracks, cutting through the sweeping countryside. The chatter in Remus’s compartment had settled into a comfortable murmur. Sage was still asleep on Remus’s lap, the exhaustion of her summer weighing heavily on her even in slumber. Remus’s eyes drifted out the window, his mind tracing the past and present in a familiar dance of regret and hope. He felt the soft rise and fall of Sage’s breathing, a poignant reminder of the trust she placed in him without even knowing.
Suddenly, the train gave a shudder. The lamps in the corridor flickered, and a deep chill swept through the air, seeping into the skin like icy tendrils. The boys fell silent, eyes darting around nervously as their breath misted in the sudden cold. Ron’s freckles seemed to stand out starkly against his pale face as he whispered, “What’s going on?”
Before anyone could answer, the train groaned to a halt, and a thick silence followed. The temperature plummeted, and a dark foreboding wrapped itself around them like a vice. Sage stirred, her brows knitting together as she woke to the bone-chilling cold.
Remus’s demeanor changed instantly. His relaxed posture became tense, alert. He shifted slightly, easing Sage from his lap and placing her gently against the seat as he stood. “Stay here,” he ordered the group, his voice low but firm.
The compartment door slid open with a screech, and a tall, cloaked figure glided inside. Its bony, decaying hand reached out as it drifted forward, drawing the air itself into an oppressive silence. Draco shuddered and gripped the edge of his seat, his usually pale face turning ghostly white. Neville seemed frozen, staring at the creature with wide, terrified eyes.
The Dementor’s presence cast a shadow over everyone in the room, a suffocating wave of dread and hopelessness. Sage gasped as the memories came flooding back—the cupboard, the pain, Aunt Marge’s cruel taunts—a whirlwind of anguish that threatened to consume her.
Remus raised his wand, his expression hard as steel. “Expecto Patronum!” he commanded. A silvery light burst forth, shaping into a spectral wolf that leapt at the Dementor, driving it back with a burst of brilliance. The creature recoiled, its hollow, rattling breath echoing through the compartment before it retreated down the corridor.
The room seemed to breathe once more, warmth seeping back into the corners. Sage exhaled shakily, her heart pounding in her chest. Daniel reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and touched her arm to reassure himself that she was still there.
Remus lowered his wand, his face lined with fatigue and something else—sorrow. He turned to the group, noting their pale faces and wide eyes. “Are you all alright?” he asked, his voice softened by concern.
Neville nodded weakly, but Draco was still catching his breath, his eyes glassy with lingering fear. Sage looked up at Remus, the question burning behind her gaze unspoken: Why were they here? What were these monsters that pulled nightmares to the surface so effortlessly?
“That,” Remus said, answering the unvoiced question, “was a Dementor. They guard Azkaban, and now, it seems, they’ve been stationed to guard Hogwarts.”
Ron’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Guard? From what?”
Remus’s mouth thinned into a grim line. “From Sirius Black.” The silence that followed was heavier than before, weighted with the revelation and the fear that came with it.
Sage shivered, not just from the chill but from the haunting thought that her father’s old friend—the man who betrayed him—was the reason for this new, dark presence.