Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff
The bad weather that had heralded the beginning of November continued. On the day of the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff match it was particularly bad, and Remus found himself supervising students filing out to the covered stands, wrapped against the elements and wondering why on earth it was being allowed to go ahead. The students however, seemed unperturbed, despite the poor visibility and had turned up en masse. Remus hoped it would be a quick win.
As was his personal tradition, he had brought a book, and huddled into the corner of the Gryffindor stands, the hood of his cloak pulled firmly down and a water repellant charm on the open pages he was reading. He could just about hear intermittent commentary over the wind but the cries of the spectators told him that something visible must be happening. The noise was rather distracting and he was finding it difficult to concentrate, and then, quite suddenly, a hush fell over the stadium. Remus looked up from his book - the students next to him sat shrinking in their seats, eyes turned skywards. He followed their gaze, and there, above the tiny figures of the players who sat frozen on their brooms were hundreds of Dementors, swooping towards them. The feeling of cold was growing, the students in the stands clutching for each other. A small girl two rows in front of him was crying.
'Quick! Quick!' he shouted across the rows nearest to him, 'Quick! Get up, go down the stairs, go inside!'
He got up and began ushering them to the doorway that would lead them back to the castle.
'Move!' he shouted, 'Go! Percy! Percy! Take them down, come on, get them out of here.'
Remus fought his way through the now moving crowd. The prefects had snapped out of their terrified stupor and started to push the smaller students towards the exits. 'Expecto Patronum!' he yelled as he climbed, shooting his great white wolf into the air, not stopping to care who saw. He climbed over the benches, trying to get to the front of the stands, trying to get his eyes on Harry.
He reached the edge and leaned over, searching. The other players had spread outwards, their eyes fixed upwards but their brooms slowly drifting towards the ground. Other teachers were in the stands, shooting bright white creatures into the air. He spotted Harry towards the middle of the pitch, hands gripping the broom handle, and then, suddenly they weren't, and his broom had vanished. He was falling...
'ARRESTO MOMENTUM', Remus bellowed, leaning as far as he could over the barrier. Harry slowed, but continued to fall. Dumbledore appeared below, his white beard just visible through the driving rain, and then suddenly the sky was filled with something huge and glowing that shot from his wand and radiated across the pitch. The cold began to recede as the dementors retreated and that was it. Remus leant against the barrier, exhausted. Far beneath him, at Dumbledore's feet, he could just make out a small figure, lying in the mud.
*
For reasons he couldn't fully explain, Remus had asked Poppy for an update on how Harry was doing, rather than going to visit him himself. When he did see him again, it was in class. They spent what seemed to be an enjoyable hour studying the hinkypunk he had caught in a boggy part of the forest on the edge of the lake, and by the end of the lesson most of the students were able to successfully ignore it's confusing instructions, but Harry, he thought, seemed a little subdued. As he dismissed the class, he hovered by Harry's desk.
'Will you wait a moment, Harry?' he asked, 'I'd like a word.'
Harry finished putting his books into his bag and came over to Remus' desk where the hinkypunk was grunting inside its glass box.
‘I heard about the match,’ said Remus, ‘and I’m sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?’
‘No,’ said Harry. ‘The tree smashed it to bits.’
Remus sighed, and then without thinking said, ‘They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance.’
‘Did you hear about the Dementors, too?’ said Harry, his voice hoarse.
Remus looked at him. He was standing with his head bowed, shoulders hunched. He looked so small. ‘Yes, I did. I don’t think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time … furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds … I suppose they were the reason you fell?’
‘Yes,’ said Harry, 'Wh-,' he hesitated and looked across the classroom. Remus followed his line of sight but there was nothing there - he glanced back at Harry, who seemed to be struggling to get the words out. Suddenly he burst out:
‘Why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just –?’
‘It has nothing to do with weakness,’ Remus cut him off sharply. ‘The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don’t have. Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can’t see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory, will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself – soulless and evil. You’ll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that has happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of.’
Remus put a hand out on the desk to steady himself. He had been thinking of the dementors swooping down on the pitch, Harry frozen in the centre, and then an image flashed into his mind of a man cowering in a cell...
‘When they get near me –’ Harry said quietly, ‘I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum.’
Remus' breath caught in his throat and he found himself suddenly gripping Harry's shoulder. They both looked down at his hand and he hurriedly let go. Harry looked at him strangely for a moment but went on.
'Why did they have to come to the match?’
‘They’re getting hungry,’ said Remus, cursing himself for his lack of control. ‘Dumbledore won’t let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up … I don’t think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch pitch. All that excitement … emotions running high … it was their idea of a feast.’
‘Azkaban must be terrible,’ Harry muttered.
That image was back. Sirius, curled in a ball, on a filthy mattress, hands over his ears. Remus felt sick. Why did he start this conversation? Harry was looking at him strangely again. Quickly he searched for a response.
‘The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don’t need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they’re all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most of them go mad within weeks.’
‘But Sirius Black escaped from them,’ Harry said slowly. ‘He got away …’
The arm that had been holding Remus up on his desk slipped, knocking his briefcase off the side and he had to stoop awkwardly to stop it hitting the floor.
'Yes,’ he said, straightening up. ‘Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn’t have believed it possible … Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long …’ How did you do it Sirius? Why did you?
‘When can I start learning the Patronus charm?' Harry said. 'Have you got some time soon? I need to be able to repel them before the next match.' there was a determined look on his face. A Lily look, Remus thought. He felt like he was going to cry.
'We can start the week after next.' He said quickly, clearing his throat awkwardly. 'Now off you go, Harry and get some supper.'
'Thanks, Sir!' Immediately cheered, Harry grinned his James-like grin and grabbed his bag on his way out the door. Remus sank into his desk chair, and put his head in his hands, ignoring the thump of his briefcase as it slid back to the floor.