Hari soon fell asleep to the gentle thrum of the train making its way to Hogwarts once again, his head lulling on Draco’s shoulder. Draco woke him up as they arrived at the station, gently shaking him awake. Hari grabbed his bag and followed the others silently off the train, getting jostled through the crowd as they made their way to the castle.

They followed the rest of the school along the muddy path, ducking under the thick pellets of rain splashing down on them. Finally, already half drenched to the bone, they reached the long line of carriages leading up to the school. They all appeared to be moving of their own accord, no horses seen pulling them. Hari clambered inside one of the carriages alongside Draco, Ron, Hermione and Neville, having lost Ginny somewhere in the crowd.

The coach lurched forwards shortly after they got inside and began trundling up towards the castle, splashing dirty water and mud in its wake. Hari shivered, still feeling slightly off after the dementor, despite the chocolate’s effects. He was getting sick of his friends’ continued worried glances in his direction and ultimately shoved himself into the corner of the carriage, looking out the window at the dark trees around the carriage and pretending not to notice.

A few minutes later, the carriage stuttered to a stop and they climbed out, thrown back into the torrential downpour. They skidded and stumbled as they scurried up the slick stone steps, heads bent down out of the rain.

As they stepped inside the entrance hall, wiping their feet on the mat and attempting to wring out as much of the water weighing down their robes, Hari caught sight of Minerva standing near the doors to the Great Hall. She was speaking to Remus about something and as Hari started towards the Great Hall, she called out over the rest of the students, “Potter! Granger!”

Hari shared startled and confused looks with his friends. What could Minerva want from only him and Hermione? At Minerva’s grave look, Hari grabbed Hermione’s hand and they began pushing their way through the crowd towards Minerva, slipping on a few stray puddles.

“Don’t look so worried,” said Minerva as they neared her. “I just need a word with you two alone before the feast. Follow me.”

As she moved swiftly down the hallway, Hari and Hermione trotted after her, trying to keep up. She marched them all the way up to her office several flights above, her fireplace already roaring merrily and warming the room significantly compared to outside. She indicated for them to both sit down and then sat down behind her own desk.

“Remus has told me that you were ill on the train, Hari,” Minerva said, jumping right into business. She never had been one to beat around the bush, in Hari’s experience.

“Minnie, I—”

There was a knock at the door and a moment later, Madam Pomfrey entered the room. She took one look at Hari and her shoulders sagged.

“Not you again,” she sighed. “What have you done this time, then?” Hari could sense the hint of caring behind her sharp words, having been the subject of her care many times since childhood.

“It was a dementor, Poppy. Not his fault this time,” interrupted Minerva, sharing a grim look with the other woman.

“Honestly, I’m fine,” Hari insisted. “I don’t need anything, really. I’m fine.”

Hari didn’t need anymore doting upon. He just wanted to get the feast over with and go upstairs to curl up under his covers. All the worried glances and the whispers and the concern was giving Hari a headache, aching maddeningly in his temples.

“He won’t be the last one that faints. Honestly, setting dementors in a school full of children? What was the Ministry thinking?” ranted Madam Pomfrey, checking Hari’s forehead with cool hands. “As I suspected, he’s all clammy. Those dementors are horrible for everyone nevermind those who are already high risk—”

“What? I’m not high risk!”

Madam Pomfrey hummed absently and continued checking him over. Minerva, watching this unfold, said, “Will he need to stay the night in the hospital wing to make sure he’s alright?”

Hari shoved Madam Pomfrey’s hands away and jumped to his feet, scowling. “I’m fine! I don’t need all this fuss over me, alright? It’s not a big deal!” he snapped, ignoring the surprised looks the others gave him. “Remus already gave me chocolate on the train. I don’t need to stay in the infirmary overnight, okay?” He looked at Minerva pleadingly.

Madam Pomfrey looked shocked. “He gave you chocolate?” she asked, bewildered. Hari nodded. “Well, it’s about time we have a competent Defence teacher.”

“And you’re sure you’re alright, Hari?” said Minerva. Hari glared at her. She sighed and said, “Fine. Go wait outside while I speak to Hermione and then we’ll head to the feast together.” She pointed to the clock on her wall, showing them the feast would already have started.

A few minutes later, Hermione and Minerva stepped back into the corridor with Hari. Hermione looked incredibly pleased with herself, but refused to answer any of Hari’s questions as they all made their way down to the feast together.

Inside the Great Hall, it was booming with excitement. The feast was already well underway as everyone gorged themselves on as much food as they could, many still slightly damp from the rain outside. They had apparently missed the Sorting, much to Hermione’s disappointment, but Hari hardly minded after going to so many before now. Hari and Hermione made their way over to the Gryffindor table where Draco and Ron had saved them both seats.

“What was that about?” asked Ron as Hari sat down across from him, next to Draco.

Hari rolled his eyes, reaching over to pile fried rice onto his plate. “Oh, just trying to check in on me because I’m so fragile,” Hari replied sarcastically.

Draco glanced at Hermione across from him and asked, “What about you? Why’d she want to speak with you?”

Before Hermione could reply, however, Dumbledore stood up from his seat and the hall silenced immediately to listen to his opening speech.

“Welcome everyone to another year at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said warmly, smiling around the hall. “I have a few things I would like to address before you all make your merry way up to bed afterwards. First, as many of you know from the unfortunate journey here, this year we are accommodating the guards of Azkaban, Dementors.

“I would like to make it very clear that you are to not, under any circumstances, approach or attempt to deceive them. They cannot be fooled by trickery of any sort and it would be a great disservice to yourself to attempt to do so in any way. They cannot be reasoned with, nor do they take pity or forgive.” Dumbledore looked down the table of Gryffindor, warning in his blue eyes. “While they are on the grounds for the time being, I strongly insist that you stay as far from them as possible so as to avoid the severe and adverse effects they can cause. Should you experience any of the effects of being so near these Dark creatures, your Heads of houses and Madam Pomfrey are happy to assist you in any way.”

The hall was deadly quiet during Dumbledore’s speech, nobody daring to talk as they exchanged glances over their food. Hari could tell from the angry glint in Dumbledore’s normally warm and cheerful eyes that he wasn’t at all happy about letting the dementors onto the grounds.

“On a much lighter note, I have a few announcements regarding changes of staff this year,” Dumbledore continued, straightening up, his serious demeanor fading. “First, I would like to introduce the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin.” There was a polite round of applause from every table, especially among those that he helped during the dementor attack. Hari caught Remus’ eye and raised his glass of pumpkin juice towards him, earning a fond smile and an eye roll. “Second, I regret to inform you that our Care of Magical Creatures teacher Professor Kettleburn has retired so as to spend more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am pleased to announce that our gameskeeper Rubeus Hagrid has agreed to take his place.”

Hari’s jaw dropped. He exchanged amazed and bewildered looks with his other friends as they began clapping enthusiastically for Hagrid. Ron even whistled. Up at the staff table, Hagrid was teary eyed as he grinned through his beard, Minerva patting his back happily.

After dinner when the rest of the school made their way upstairs for bed, Hari, Ron, Draco and Hermione crossed the hall quickly to go and congratulate Hagrid. He burst into tears and pulled all four of them into a tight hug until none of them could breathe and Remus had to suggest that he stop suffocating them all.

Having said good night to Remus, Minerva and Hagrid, they made their way after the last students, back to the common room.

Upstairs in the dormitory, Neville, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were already there once Hari, Ron and Draco arrived. They were all in the middle of unpacking their trunks and setting their beds up with new posters or photos.

“Alright, you three?” said Seamus by way of greeting, standing on his bed and pinning up a new poster of the Irish Quidditch team’s lineup. A cheerful, laid-back boy with sandy brown hair and an affinity for often disastrous clumsiness, Seamus had taken a bit of time to warm up to Hari and Draco, particularly the latter. Though he had thankfully gotten over his initial mistrust of the Malfoy heir after realising the treatment from his father, he grew to be a close friend, always there to crack jokes.

“Aye, I’m alright. How are you?” Hari replied. He turned to Dean as well.

“It’s good to see you,” Dean replied, in the middle of unpacking a West Ham football jersey from his trunk. Dean was the only Muggle-born in their dormitory and his non-moving Muggle posters and his various items amused Draco and Ron to no end, both unfamiliar with them. He was Seamus’ best mate, incredibly talented at art and just about the only person taller than Ron in their year with dark brown skin and curly black hair.

“How about those dementors on the train, eh?” said Seamus a few minutes later as everyone started getting ready for bed. “Bloody creepy buggers, they were.”

Ron threw one of his jumpers out of his trunk, scowling at the other boy. Hari sent him a warning look, but Ron said through gritted teeth, “Yeah, they were. Do we have to talk about them?”

“Ron,” Hari warned.

Clearly sensing the touchy subject, no doubt having heard about Hari’s fainting on the train as everyone else seemed to, Dean changed the subject. “Did anybody get up to anything interesting this summer?”

Despite his annoyance at Ron’s outburst on his behalf, Hari was relieved at the change of subject. He continued getting ready for bed silently as Ron and Draco recounted their summer trips and Seamus talked about going to a few Quidditch matches and Dean told them about going to a Muggle amusement park.

It wasn’t until he was back in his warm four poster bed with the heavy crimson blankets pulled right up to his chin and the darkness settling around him that Hari let himself think back to the dementor on the train.

The horrible, ragged breathing and the gaping, wounded, decaying mouth moving closer and closer to him. The distant, pleading scream as he fell down, down, down through thick waves of darkness. The blinding green flash and the heavy thud of the floor against his spine as he hit the ground and the freezing, unfathomable cold that swept through him, down to the bone.

Hari gasped awake only a couple hours later, looking around frantically as the horrible images slowly faded away and reality set in once again. He found a familiar pale face and a single, wide grey eye peering between the curtains around his bed.

He sighed and fell back onto the pillow, looking sideways at the other boy. “I’m fine, Draco. I don’t need you checking… in…” Hari sat up again, eyes narrowing as he squinted closer at Draco’s blurry figure in the dark.

He fumbled around and pulled on his glasses, finally getting a proper look at Draco. He had been crying, Hari was sure. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy in the low moonlight, his angular shoulders hunched up by his ears and his grip on the curtains harsh and tight. He was trembling all over, his bottom lip quivering. He wasn’t coming to check on Hari; he was coming to him for help, for comfort.

Immediately, Hari threw aside the covers and shuffled over to let the other boy crawl under the covers, just like when they were little. It was easy and felt just right, familiar. Draco carefully edged in closer as Hari drew the covers up higher. He let Draco rest his head on his chest, clinging to his shirt as he shook, fresh tears dampening the fabric. Hari shushed him, gently rubbing his back and allowing Draco to cling to him for dear life.

Eventually, Draco calmed down, the shaking and the crying subsiding. He sniffled and rolled over onto the pillow, keeping one of his arms draped over Hari like a stuffed toy. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the… the dementor…” Draco whispered shakily.

“I know. Me neither.”

Draco glanced up into Haru’s eyes, stripped back and scared. “When it came in, I couldn’t stop thinking about Father yelling at me and Hermione being petrified and you coming back from the Chamber of Secrets, drenched in blood…” Draco continued. He shuddered slightly, closing his eyes like it pained him. Hari pulled him closer to his side instinctively. “When you fainted, I… I thought it had killed you...”

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Hari murmured into his hair, unsure of what else to say.

He had been so focused on himself, so irritated at being doted on and poked and prodded by everyone, so tired of being treated like he was fragile that he didn’t stop to consider how anyone else felt. He remembered Draco’s terrified face as he leaned over Hari when he woke up and then continued to sit as close as possible. He had never considered that his fit on the train could have terrified anyone. He had simply assumed that they thought he was weak.

Draco hummed, flicking Hari’s elbow with the hand still draped across him. “Just don’t pull any shit like that again, Potter, or I’ll really kill you.”

As Hari huffed a laugh, Draco shuffled ever closer, tangling their legs together. With Draco right by his side, Hari smiled. It was the warmest he had felt all day.

¤¤¤

When they made their way downstairs for breakfast the next morning, almost as soon as they entered the Great Hall, Hari heard the jeering voice of Theodore Nott at the Slytherin table. Hari made his way towards the Gryffindor table, trying to ignore him.

“Oi, Potter!” shouted Nott. “I heard you fainted on the train! Did you cry, Potter?”

“Ignore him, Hari,” Hermione muttered, pulling Hari away by the back of his robes. “He’s just trying to wind you up.”

“The dementors are coming for you, Potter!” Nott continued, grinning wickedly as his cronies Crabbe and Goyle laughed thickly at his teasing.

“Oh, shut up, Nott. Nobody wants to hear your voice so early in the morning,” snapped Pansy from a few seats away, “They’ll think they’re still having a nightmare.”

Hari shot Pansy a thankful smile before dropping heavily into a seat, back turned away from Nott.

“Morning,” said George from across the table. “Why so glum, Hari?”

“Nott,” muttered Ron irritably as he sat down beside George and began shovelling sausages onto his plate immediately.

George looked over at Nott, still laughing at his own jokes on the other side of the room from them. Fred joined him, craning his neck to see.

“Don’t listen to the prat, Hari,” said Fred. “He wasn’t so cheerful last night when he ran into our carriage to hide from the dementors. Remember, George?”

George nodded. “Oh, yeah. He was a cowering little thing,” he replied. “I mean, those dementors arehorrid. Made everything go cold and dark.”

Hari, who had yet to eat anything, rested his elbow glumly on the table and sighed heavily, resting on his palm. “You didn’t faint though, I bet,” he said bitterly.

George patted Hari’s shoulder sympathetically. “Mate, it’s okay. They affect everyone differently,” he said. “Dad had to visit Azkaban for work one time and when he came back, he hardly spoke a word for almost a week. They’re nasty creatures, those dementors. Nobody blames you for fainting because of those things.”

Fred butted in, gesturing towards the Slytherin table with his fork. “Unless, of course, you’re a foul, insensitive prick like Theodore Nott.” This served to cheer Hari up slightly and he began buttering a slice of toast as he chuckled at the image of Nott running away in fear.

Minerva came by a few minutes later, handing out course schedules to everyone.

“We’re starting new subjects today!” said Hermione excitedly as she glanced over her timetable.

Ron looked over Hermione’s shoulder, frowning. He almost dropped a bit of his food onto her paper. “It looks like they’ve mixed up your schedule, Hermione. They put you down for subjects at the same exact time. Look.”

“I sorted it out with McGonagall, I told you that. I’ll be fine, Ronald, don’t you worry.”

As Ron continued to bicker with Hermione over her packed schedule, Hari and Draco turned away to discuss the upcoming Hogwarts Quidditch season instead.

“D’you think I’ll be able to try out again?” Draco wondered hopefully.

Hari shrugged. “You could ask the twins. They’d know,” he suggested.

Draco turned to Fred and George, who were in a deep conversation with Lee Jordan, their closest friend. “Do you guys think there'll be any open spaces on the team this year?” Draco asked.

George and Fred exchanged a look. “Sorry, mate. Not this time around, unfortunately. None of us have left school yet,” explained Fred, looking sympathetic. Hari saw Draco’s hopeful look drop into a frown.

“But next year, Oliver Wood will be gone then! This is his last year,” added George.

Hermione and Ron’s argument and Draco’s conversation with the twins was cut short at the appearance of Hagrid smiling down at them. They all greeted him warmly, pretending they hadn’t all been in awkward conversations seconds before.

“You'll be in my first ever lesson!” Hagrid said eagerly. “Right after lunch! I’ve got a real treat for you all today…”

“What’s it going to be, Hagrid?” asked Draco with an air of suspicion and curiosity.

Hagrid waved his hand dismissively. “You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you? It’s a surprise!” he replied merrily and then continued up towards the staff table for his breakfast.

“I wonder what he’s got planned?” said Ron once Hagrid left.

“I certainly hope it isn’t something dangerous. You know what he’s like…” said Draco, looking towards the staff table at Hagrid chatting merrily to Professor Flitwick while he spread jam on a scone.

“We’ve got Divination first,” said Ron, glancing down at his timetable as they started to get up after breakfast. “What have you got, Draco? You’re not taking Divination.”

Draco glanced down at his own timetable. “I’ve got Arithmancy first.”

And so, Ron, Hermione and Hari split off from Draco in the entrance hall as he made his way towards the Arithmancy classroom and they made their way to the North Tower. Hari, having explored the vast majority of the castle during his childhood, led the way up the many, many flights of stairs leading up to the Divination classroom.