7

Chapter 7: The Second Coming

The Christmas and Christmas holidays came, and all the students welcomed the break. Well, aside from some truly hardcore Ravenclaws. Even Hermione was rather glad to have a pause in her unending crusade for knowledge.

Christmas Day itself was the same as it was in last two years, differing only in the amount of presents that Harry received: besides the usual Chocolate Frogs and a broom servicing kit from Ron, "Advanced Arithmancy made easy" from Hermione and a jumper from Mrs. Weasley, he received a book on Human Transfiguration and a huge treacle tart from McGonagall and the Snitch he caught in his first game in Hogwarts from Dumbledore.

But the clincher was the Firebolt.

Someone who wanted to remain anonymous sent Harry the best and the most expensive broom in existence.

Naturally, both him and Hermione thought it to be suspicious and asked professor McGonagall to make sure it wasn't hexed. She told them that she would return it in a month.

"What?" Harry goggled at her. "What could take so much time? I need it, I have to train!"

She glared at him.

"The process of analysing an enchanted object is extremely hard and lengthy, Mr. Potter," Damn. Last name terms again? What did I do?"I don't like it any more than you do."

"Is it about my Christmas present? I didn't mean any disrespect..." he trailed off. McGonagall continued to glare at him for the next five seconds, after which she sighed and shook her head slightly.

"Tell me at least how you knew..."

"The label? It was the same as the bottle that stood half-empty in my room in the first day I spent in your house, you know, under the Notice-Me-Not charm," he smiled at her innocently. She looked at him with widened eyes. "What? If I wear glasses, I can as well charm them with magic detection, right?"

She sighed again and looked at him with fond exasperation.

"Very well, Harry, I'll try and push for a faster analysis. I don't want to lose the Quidditch cup. Merlin knows Severus would be absolutely insufferable if I do."

Ron didn't speak to Harry and Hermione for two days, unable to forgive the disrespect to the greatest broom in the world. Sure, he wasn't malicious – he just made sure to goggle at them constantly to convey his disbelief at their actions, and half-jokingly loudly whisper faux-insults about the 'no-good broom haters' and 'paranoid sacrilegers' or even 'twig bigots'. He came around, of course – obviously, the only reason good enough to sully himself by talking to the 'lowly broom dismantlers' was Arithmancy homework.

Lazy arse.

The Firebolt was returned to Harry two weeks after the holiday's end with assurances that it wasn't tampered with. He got it back just in time to beat Slytherin. The look on Malfoy's face when he grabbed the Snitch right from under his nose was priceless!

His Patronus, on the other hand, wasn't progressing as fast as he thought it would; the lack of happiness required to cast the spell was a giant roadblock. All he could do for now was a solid-looking Protego-like shield. Lupin was at a loss and halfway into February the professor decided that they did all they could.

"Harry, you have done everything right. Your problem is the same as most Aurors': you don't have the memories to fuel a corporeal Patronus. I've already taught you everything you need. The rest is up to you."

That night Harry was tossing and turning, thinking about ways to compensate for a lack of positive emotions. He couldn't just give up and settle for a mediocre shield. He needed a corporeal guardian, at the very least! Harry didn't know if he would be able to use the giant wave-like Patronus that Lupin described seeing Dumbledore cast at all, but he'd be damned if he didn't reach the corporeal stage! But how could he do it?

It was in the morning that he found the solution.

He stood in the Restricted section of the library under the invisibility cloak and shuffled the pages of the book he read last year: "The Magicked Mind".

"'Occlumency can be used to quell one's emotions as well as control them to a certain degree: one can shift from anger to calm, from fear to tranquillity and from sadness to happiness at will by utilizing it'. Yes! There it is!... Oh, wait."

"'Unfortunately, due to the hormonal instability that puberty brings, it is impossible to master before one's magical maturity'. Well, damn."

That was a dead end... or was it?

Just out of stubbornness, he decided that he had to at least read the book about basic Occlumency to see for himself if it is impossible to learn. Following a reference in the end of the chapter, he found a tome "Mind Protection for the Simpleton" in the far corner of the Restricted Section that housed an obscene amount of dust. Glancing around, he proceeded to read.

In the four days it took to read the tome (Harry still had to study and sneaking into library took more time that he would like it to take) he got the gist of what was needed. To his shock, he had already got the basics of Occlumency down. It was the blank feeling of detachment that Harry would describe as 'tuning out reality'. He instinctively maintained it during Potions so as not to snap at Snape. That was the first stage of emotion control, mastering which was the foundation of learning Occlumency. From what he had gathered, the hormonal turmoil wouldn't let him learn anything more than basic control over his emotions in the near future, but he hoped it would be enough.

Since that day, Harry spent at least half an hour daily trying to shift between different emotions at will. He met only limited success, but it was enough for him to be optimistic.

In the meantime, not all was well in the state of Potterland; Hermione and Ron were in a huge row because Scabbers vanished without a trace; well, other than a little bit of blood and some ginger hair under Ron's bed. Naturally, Ron thought that it was Crookshanks who ate the rat; Hermione, on the other hand, vehemently argued that her cat didn't touch the other pet. The result was that both of Harry's friends stopped talking to each other. As Ron was now in a state of constant sulking, Harry told him to sort himself out and cut the pity-party and proceeded to hang out with Hermione. Harry knew it was rather cold, but, he had no wish to be caught in the rat debacle and suffer. Besides, it was the only rational choice in the matter. It wasn't like he could choose Ron's side – Hermione was the one he always ate with, and he had absolutely no wish to make his dinners miserable. On the other hand, if he tried to sit on the fence, Harry would have to listen to both of them whining to him about the other. No thank you.

Fortunately, Ron wasn't ready to leave his friends alone and by the end of February he apologized to Hermione for being a prat (and initiated another small argument about who should feel sorrier) and the Golden Trio was together once more.

The coming of spring brought a lot of... excitement for Harry. The reason for it was his second meeting with one Sirius Black.

On the sunny day of 5th March Harry was flying rings around the Quidditch pitch during the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor game – as Ravenclaw trounced Hufflepuff in the middle of February, the result of this game would decide just who would have the Cup.

The game so far went in the lions' favour. 150 to 70 – a nice score for the twenty's minute of the game. The Ravenclaw Seeker – Cho Chang – was currently tailing Harry and did everything she could to not let him look for the Snitch in piece.

A viable tactic; the girl was smart. Not to mention quite easy on the eyes. Harry shook that thought off and looked around, hoping to see the damn golden ball. In the next second he did a barrel roll, barely in time to evade a bludger.

It was five minutes later that Harry saw the Snitch innocently flying in the bottom of the pitch. He immediately banked, rolled and dived to it with maximum speed he could get from the Firebolt. He didn't hear Chang following him hot in his heels, but he knew that she did. Fortunately, her broom was massively outclassed.

In that moment, Harry heard someone screaming on his left and glanced to that side.

Dementors. Only four of them, fortunately.

He immediately blanked his emotions and focused his attention on the Snitch. Dementors or not, I would not let someone beat me to the Snitch a second time!

Ten meters. Five. He reached out with his right arm. One meter. The Snitch, feeling him approach, tried to climb higher, dodging him, but it was too late for that. Harry grabbed the winged sphere and got out of the dive. He looked to the point where he had seen the dementors previously and saw them scattered and running from a brilliant white phoenix. Wait a second. Running?

Harry narrowed his eyes, looking at the fleeting figures. Dementors glide, they don't run. And certainly they don't stumble and fall, obstructed by their cloaks. It seems that someone decided on sabotage by donning dementor-ish cloaks and coming to the match.

Harry flew closer to them and, taking his wand out, sent a spell at the figure running at the head. The mild stinging hex caught him in the leg and he went down with a loud curse.

The other two tried to help the downed co-conspirators, but the time needed for that was denied to them. Professor McGonagall arrived at the scene. A few moments later, Harry was enjoying the sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Flint being chewed out and assigned a month of detention with Filch each.

The mood in the aftermath of the victory was high. The team was shining with glee at the finally won Cup, and Wood was crying. Actually crying tears of manly pride. Harry could not decide if that was more touching or disturbing. As it was Oliver's last year in Hogwarts and he was already set on going pro after graduation, Harry went with "touching".

The trio was walking to school, discussing the game or (in Hermione's case) ranting about Malfoy's foul play.

"Mione, he's a Malfoy – foul play is his middle name," Ron joked. Harry nodded seriously, glancing at the Whomping willow that they were currently passing.

"Yeah, it's kind of funny... Ron, behind you!" he shouted, reaching for his wand. A huge black dog was running straight at them, and if the look in its eyes was a clue, its intention was not to cuddle and ask for a treat.

"What the..." Harry was too slow. The dog bowled past him, sending him to the ground. Then it bit Ron's leg and unceremoniously started to drag him to the willow. Both Harry and Hermione tried to outrun it, but the beast was surprisingly fast and always kept Ron between them and it, so they wouldn't dare use magic. Finally, it came closer to the Willow, and the homicidal tree – to Harry's great surprise – didn't react to it. In fact, it acted as if it was paralysed. The dog and Ron vanished from view in a tunnel underneath the Willow, while Harry remained where he stood, cautiously watching the Willow. It didn't give any signs of life.

Harry breathed in and out, and ever so slowly, edged to the tunnel. The tree remained still. He glanced towards Hermione; she nodded. Harry threw to the wind all the notions of being careful and quickly entered the gaping hole.

"Lumos."

The tunnel was rather dry; judging by the ground, it was well-used.Strange. It seems that I have found another secret entrance to the grounds; but who used it? Black? On this thought Harry tightened his grip on the wand and quickened his pace. Hermione was walking a couple of steps behind him.

It took forever to reach the end of the tunnel. Finally, they found themselves in a... dwelling. A really shabby house with signs of damage everywhere they could see. There were large dents in the walls showing that something or someone crashed into it with great force; a door of a shelf was nearly torn away, hanging on a single bolt; there were long and deep gashes on the floor showing that a large animal with very sharp claws was here. When Harry thought about it, they were heading underground towards the Hogsmeade. That meant...

"Shrieking Shack," he said quietly. "We're in the Shrieking Shack."

In the dim light of his wand he could see Hermione pale. Harry smiled at her in reassurance, but it didn't help matters. Probably because Harry himself needed it. The boy glanced around and made to step towards the closest door, but then he heard a groan from the corridor behind the door furthest from the entrance.

Harry held up his left hand, pointed at himself and at that door. Hermione nodded. Harry pointed at her and gestured to stay there. She protested silently, but Harry glared at her and she nodded. The boy smiled slightly and slowly crept towards the corridor.

He was sneaking through the Shack towards the door from which the groans were coming. Levelling his wand at it, he smirked.

"Depulso."

The old door, barely held upright by the rusted hinges, didn't have a snowball's chance in hell. The spell that Harry learned to have something to throw at Black in the next meeting blew it to small parts that were thrown inside the room with dangerous velocity. Harry heard two cries and looked inside, not lowering his guard for a second.

Ron was lying on a half-crushed bed, nursing a wounded and, judging by the unnatural angle it was bent in, broken leg. It seemed he was missed by the flying debris, but nevertheless he looked very frightened. The other person was slowly raising from the ground, groaning and shaking himself. Harry slowly backed from the man, muttering:

"Petrificus Totalus."

The spell was thrown in the man's back. He was unprepared and shaken from the explosion and the fall. Harry didn't expect him to dodge.

Do you know the saying: "Expect the unexpected"?

The man rolled to the right in a perfect evasion. The petrifying spell hit the floor and fizzled out.

The man turned to him.

Last time, Harry didn't get a good look at Black – not really. He recognized him, true, but in the darkness of the dorm the murderer was barely visible. Now he could see him clearly.

He looked... haggard and worn. One hundred percent the convict that escaped from the Hell on Earth that was Azkaban. For a moment, the boy felt a sliver of pity for the man, followed by a half-forgotten memory of a funny man that turned into a dog...

Wait a minute. Animagus?

"So we meet at last," he said slowly, feeling a bit like a cartoon villain.

"Harry," Black rasped. He looked at the boy and tried to smile. "You look exactly like your father... but with your mother's eyes."

"I get that a lot," Harry answered neutrally, looking at Ron and checking if he's able to move. He wasn't – however, he gestured to just leave him there for a time being. Harry would have none of it.

"I'd really like you to stay and have a chat, but I believe you are being late for a date with a dementor," Harry told Black. The man couldn't help but shudder and glare at him.

"I won't return to Azkaban, kid. Not until I find him."

"That's right – you won't. It's a Kiss on sight for you, scum," Harry whispered venomously, raising his wand. "Now, you either come with me quietly or I'll force you."

"You? Force me?" the man seemed terribly amused.

"Give me a reason, Black, I beg you..." Harry said quietly. Black laughed – it sounded like a bark.

"Look, kid, you may be the son of James, but you're a student. You're outclassed."

"Think whatever you like.Petrificus Totalus."

Black turned to the side, letting the spell pass him by an inch.

"And that is all you know?" his opponent sounded disappointed.

"Everything else is lethal," Harry deadpanned. "Like I said – come with me quietly, Black."

He barked a laugh, but quickly grew serious.

"Fine. The traitor isn't here after all. The pathetic coward ran like he always did. I just wanted to see you before leaving. Bye, kid. We'll meet again. You are, after all, my godson."

And before the boy could say a spell, Black turned into a grim and escaped the room though a little hole in the wall.

"DAMN IT!" Harry ran to the gap and looked through. It lead outside – and he could see Black running away from the Shack. Away from Hogwarts.

Running away from Harry.

"Bloody, buggering hell! He ran!" Harry hit the wall and started swearing. After a couple of minutes, when most of his anger left him, he sighed and turned towards Ron, who still sat on the bed, waiting patiently.

"Are you done?" the redhead asked. Harry nodded. "Good. Can you help me up? The bastard broke my leg!"

Harry sat near Ron, examining said limb. Steps nearby told him that Hermione finally decided to abandon her post and come and look what happened.

"Harry? I heard screams... Ron! Are you okay?" she ran to them and gasped at the sight of Ron's leg. It wasn't pretty, that much was true.

"We need to get him to madam Pomfrey! Let's go..." she grabbed Ron's hand and tried pull him to the door. Harry immediately objected.

"Stop! Don't be ridiculous – it'll be one hell of a painful trip for him. We'll have to levitate him," Hermione blushed, chagrined.

"Sorry. I didn't think.Mobilicorpus."

"That wouldn't be the first time. Well, we all have our moments." Ron said philosophically while being lifted from the ruined bed. Harry snorted and looked around.

"I saw him drag you under that blasted tree, let it rot, but what happened after that?"

The trio proceeded to walk to the tunnel – Harry being the vanguard, Ron floating in the middle and Hermione bringing up the rear. After a couple of minutes Harry reminded Ron that he was asked a question.

"He just dragged me into the Shack, transformed, started to babble something about the betrayer and how he was too late to do anything about him..."

"You? He targeted you?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Well, I don't know. He suddenly stopped talking, told me to keep quiet and lie still. Then he crept to the door and then... well..."

"Knock-knock," Harry commented dryly.

"Yep. A piece of wood embedded itself into the bed right next to my head and another knocked the air out of me. Mate, you almost killed me!"

"Harry! You didn't..."

"Note to self: don't use destructive spells when you don't know whether your friends will be friendly-fired," Harry said weakly.

"Harry James Potter!"

"Oh look, we are already there!" he told her with faux cheerfulness.She will absolutely murder me later, I know it, but I'm all for delaying the execution."Let's just hope that the tree is still, well,still, or we're stuck here..."

Unfortunately, whatever held the Willow in place must have taken a holiday and bought a ticket to Mediterranean Sea, because they could hear the groaning of the cursed plant. Harry cautiously approached the exit of the tunnel, gesturing for Ron and Hermione to be quiet – not that they needed the reminder. The boy looked trough the entrance hole and immediately jumped back, as a branch of the tree flew with a lethal velocity through the spot where his head had been the second before. Harry leaned back from the danger and suddenly slipped on the wet grass.

His arse met the ground with abandon that wouldn't be out of place at a meeting of long-lost best friends, and the back of his head enthusiastically greeted a strange lump on the wall of the tunnel.

"Argh! Damn it!" Harry blinked off a few tears and tried to come to his senses.

"That looked like it hurt," Ron said sympathetically.

"It did... Ouch!" Harry wobbled to his feet and rubbed the tender area on his kettle.

"So, the Willow is active, I take it?" Hermione inquired impatiently.

"Yeah, it... hang on a second" Harry paused and listened.

No groaning.

He ever-so-slowly looked out, ready to duck at a moment's notice.

The tree was silent.

"It looks like it's paralysed again. I think it's safe," the boy said uncertainly. Ron asked:

"Are you sure? Maybe it just lays in wait?"

Harry looked at the tree carefully. It was completely still. He shrugged and after a moment of deliberation stood up and walked out of the tunnel.

"Harry, are you crazy? Get back!" he heard Hermione say frantically. He smiled and called back:

"Come on! It's fine!"

After a couple of minutes, a bunch of curses and a couple of bruises Hermione managed to levitate Ron through the relatively small entrance. By the end of the procedure Ron was swearing up and down that he would never trust Hermione with levitating him again. Hermione in retaliation reminded him that his own levitation skills were inadequate at best.

"My levitating skills are stunning, woman!" Ron grumbled good-naturedly while they were walking towards the castle.

"Ron, you got a Troll for it," Harry added, throwing a teasing smirk at him.

The resulting laugh was suddenly silenced. They shuddered from the sudden cold.

"I think we need to hurry to the castle. It's becoming cold out here," Hermione said.

"Far too cold," Harry muttered, looking around nervously and quickening his pace. The chill was unmistakable – the dementors were on the prowl.

"Where were they when Black was here?" The boy asked nobody in particular, starting to run and turning his head slightly to keep Hermione and Ron in his sight. The feeling of hopelessness was increasing rapidly, and he had to forcibly blanket my emotions. "Now that the bastard's gone, they appear... oh Merlin."

Between the trio and their goal there must have been a hundred of the creatures. They were silent, hanging in the air still as statues, their cloaks billowing in ethereal wind. It was like they were taunting them – come on, try and get past us. Harry winced and fell to his knees, barely managing to keep hold of his consciousness, the pleas of his mother sounding as clearly to him as if she stood right behind them.

Harry could see the castle entrance. It was tauntingly close. So close... and yet so far.

Harry had to push on the ground with his left hand to keep himself from completely falling. He was helpless – and they didn't even directly focus on him! The boy sneaked a glance at Ron and Hermione. They were extremely pale, but stood upright, completely lucid.

In that moment, in the strange mix of hopelessness, fear and protective detachment that was his current emotional condition, appeared a new ingredient that only occasionally (in situations like this, to be exact) made a visit.

Resolve.

Harry grit his teeth. He raised the eleven inches of holly with the phoenix feather core – however shakily – and forced himself to remember the happiest memories of his short life. Memories that featured two people that were right next to him in the cold field. Two people that he had to protect.

Emotion. Focus. Intent. Incantation.

"Expecto Patronum."

A wisp of silver smoke blew from his wand, creating a mist-like shield between him and the... demons. It was insufficient. He had to do better.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Another wisp came out – this one much more condesced. The misty shield now almost completely obscured the dementors, muting their effects to a level when Harry could deal with it.

Breath in. Breath out.

Memories – flashes of friendship, of belonging.

Emotion – happiness, joy, feeling of having a place that I could call home.

Intent – I will protect those who gave me these memories. I will not let them be touched!

Incantation.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A translucent dome rose from his wand, surrounding the trio with an impenetrable wall of light.

"Go, go, go!"

Hermione snapped out of her trance and hurriedly levitated Ron. She ran forward and Harry followed with his wand raised and maintaining the shield around them.

They ran towards the entrance – and, coincidentally, towards the dementors. Madness, you say? Maybe it was...

Anyway, they ran through the crowd of soul-suckers as fast as they were able to – Hermione slowing down a bit so that Harry could keep up (running with a shield was like running with someone sitting on you).

And then the dementors started the attack.

One would crash into the dome, trying to get to the children, and would be repelled with a flash of light, shrieking, only for another to try. The blows weren't felt by Harry, fortunately, otherwise they wouldn't survive there. But the chaos around them was disrupting his focus and those who tried to come through the front of the dome obstructed the view of their path to the slightly open gates.

It was only a couple of hundred steps, but when the trio finally entered the castle, closed the doors and Harry let go of the Patronus, they felt like they had just run a Marathon.

"Do you think I should write a complaint about the dementors?" Harry asked when he got his breath again.

"Please do," Ron grumbled. "Now, can we go to Pomfrey? My leg is hurting and I want chocolate."

Harry and Hermione chuckled weakly to this response, so typically Ron, and got up.

A week later, the Minister's office

"Albus, do you realize the consequences of a screw up of this magnitude? Wait, don't answer: of course you realize them! We have been working with foreign schools for five years! Five! You know they will refuse to cooperate if you air out our newest piece of dirty laundry..." Cornelius Fudge ranted, trying to persuade the old warlock. The warlock in question only smiled merrily.

"I wouldn't say that they will refuse; I believe that it would prove advantageous to tell them that we need another year to make sure everything goes according to plan."

The minister stopped his nervous pacing and his face brightened considerably.

"Yes, great idea, Albus! We can spin that as us wishing to ensure the safety of their students... But what of Black? You believe that he will return to the school and despite that..."

"Dementors are more of a security hazard than an escaped convict," Albus interrupted him with distaste in his voice. "I believe that it would be better for all if you sent an Auror squad as I suggested previously."

Before the minister could object, he added:

"And think what would happen if young Harry wouldn't be able to hold his shield for as long as he could."

Fudge blanched. To say that indirectly causing the Boy-Who-Lived to suffer a fate worse than death would be disastrous for his career would be a big understatement.

The pudgy man sat down and sighed.

"So, you suggest that we postpone the Triwizard Tournament to the next year and station Aurors at Hogwarts so that Black doesn't escape next time."

"Yes. I believe you have enough on your plate with the Quidditch Cup, Cornelius," Albus said, his eyes twinkling a bit. Fudge grumbled, looking warily at the huge pile of documents on his table.

"You have no idea, Albus. Bagman is starting to drive me up the wall; if I didn't have Barty to keep him somewhat in check, I'm afraid I would be in St. Mungo's long-term ward by now..."

"Yes, well, Ludo was always enthusiastic when it came to sports," the Headmaster answered merrily, getting up and dusting his robes (emerald-green with polka dots). "If there's nothing else, have a good day, Cornelius."

The remaining of the year was relatively quiet. With Dumbledore banishing the dementors, all the occupants of the castle could breathe freely. The moment the foul beings left the grounds, the castle got warmer, and not only temperature-wise. For a couple of days after that most of the students were walking the halls with stupid grins on their faces.

Instead of the dementors, the school now played host to Auror guards; six men with grim faces were patrolling the castle at night. Judging by their expressions, they didn't particularly enjoy this assignment, but it was hardly relevant.

The exams came and passed. Harry and Ron damn near cracked under the amount of studying that Hermione unleashed upon them. But in the end, they were more or less grateful for this. For a couple of days after the exams the boys had to suffer Hermione's constant rants with a leitmotif "what if we failed something?", but on the third day Harry snapped and told her that she should stop having a breakdown for no reason at all... well, OK, it was a teensy bit ruder than that, but he got the point across. When in his counter-rant he likened her to Lavender or Parvati who liked to throw hysterics over pointless things, she got terrified by the comparison and after the boys assured her she was doing exactly the same thing, she swore to never do that again.

Hermione really didn't like those two girls.

Another event of interest happened on the 1st of June, when Harry was relaxing by the lake after the Transfiguration exam. Hermione and Ron were currently in the library, as Hermione wanted to check if she had gotten the right answers to some questions and roped Ron into going with her.

So, Harry was lying under the tree on the shore of the lake, listening to the sound of water and slowly drifting to sleep, when he was suddenly addressed.

"Harry Potter?"

He opened his left eye and looked up. A blonde girl stood near him.What was her name? Moon? No... ah, Luna.

"Luna, right?" She nodded. "What can I do for you?"

She blinked.

"You can do a lot of things. I think that you wouldn't do many of them, however," was the serene answer.

Harry snorted and opened his right eye.

"Cheeky. Did that girl leave you alone?"

"She never hit me again."

Luna stood there with her head tilted slightly to the side. Harry sat up.

"Hm. Did anyone else hit you?"

She shook her head and fiddled with a loose strand of her hair.

"You shouldn't sit near the lake," she said suddenly. "The Blistering Humdingers like damp places."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"And they are?"

"You don't know?" she asked him, aghast. It was the first time that she spoke in a tone other than serene. "The Quibbler wrote a lot about them in September. Do you want to read it?"

"Um... it depends on if they are real or not," Harry answered warily.

"What is the difference?" she asked seriously. He didn't find a reply to that.

"Oh-kay. Fine, I'll bite. But can it wait? I wanted to spend this day without having to read another word."

"Oh. Well, you can read it later, I suppose," she sat down near him and he lied down again, closing his eyes. For a couple of minutes, they sat there in a comfortable silence. Finally, he asked:

"Are you not afraid of Humdangers yourself?"

"Humdingers. And no, they are afraid of radishes, so we are safe for the moment," Ah, her earrings...Harry smiled lazily.

"Makes sense, I guess."

After another minute of silence the boy glanced at her with one eye.

"Are you here because of me being the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"No. You just seemed to need some company."

With that she got up. Harry blinked at her.What was that supposed to mean?

"I'll pass the Quibbler to you on the Hogwarts express," she twirled on her toes and left skipping. He watched her with a puzzled expression as she vanished.

That is an odd one. But not in a bad way, I suppose.

Harry looked out of the window of the Hogwarts express as it left Hogsmeade towards London, saying a silent goodbye to the village and the castle. It would be another long summer without them.Well, at least I will have the letters from my friends. And Lupin, I hope.

In the last week before the end of the term Snape let it slip that Lupin was a werewolf. Because of that the DADA professor had to resign before he was made to by hundreds of angry parents. Harry could understand that – and he was damn angry at the greasy git for ousting the best Defense teacher they ever had. He managed to teach a third-year to do a Patronus, for Merlin's sake!

In their last talk, Lupin – or Moony, as he had asked Harry to call him – promised him to write from now on. He was (understandably so) extremely interested in his talk with Black. After the retelling, he sat quietly for a long time, after which muttering that something was amiss. In Harry's opinion, if something was missing, it was Black's sanity.

The door of the cabin slid open, the sound pulling the boy from his thoughts. Luna stood there with a huge pack of old magazines in her hands.

"Hey, Luna. You brought the Quibbler, I assume?" Harry asked and gestured for her to come in. She did so.

"Yes. I have marked the most interesting issues so that you can read them first," she passed the old issues, which Harry, after a short deliberation, put in the food packet – already empty no thanks to Ron.

"Thanks. I will need some light reading in the summer, otherwise I'll go nuts," Harry weighted the packet appreciatively.

Both Ron and Hermione directed the "what the hell?" looks at him.

"Mate, you really want to read the whole summer?" Ron asked after swallowing the last sandwich.

"Positive. Well, not allsummer, but occasionally. There's not much to do at the Privet Drive."

"Harry, if you needed some reading, you could have read something factual," Hermione noted with disapproval. "The Quibbler writes about things no one has ever seen – no offence," she apologized hurriedly, realizing just who was in the cabin.

"None taken. And if seeing is believing, then sometimes you need to believe to be able to see," Luna replied in a detached voice.

Looking at the stupefied faces of his friends, Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Luna, I think it is a start of a beautiful friendship."

The smile she gave him in answer was nothing short of brilliant.