Hogwarts - Bridge
(Deep in the distance, some boys skate about on brooms, tossing a ragged quaffle back and forth. Harry and Lupin are walking along the bridge)
Lupin: Well, don't feel too bad. I was roundly disappointed the first time I went.
Harry: Really?
Lupin: No. I was just trying to make you feel better. Honeydukes' sweets are the best in the world. Their Pepper Imps are so strong you smoke at the ears. And Zonko's Joke Shop may be dangerous, but you can't beat their Stink Pellets.
(Harry nods glumly)
Harry: Not to mention The Shrieking Shack, which, according to Hermione, is the most severely haunted building in Britain.
Lupin: Yes, that too...
Harry: Professor, can I ask you something?
Lupin: You'd like to know why I stopped you from facing the Boggart. I should think it'd be obvious. I assumed the Boggart would take the shape of Lord Voldemort.
(Harry frowns. Lupin studies him curiously)
Lupin: But clearly... I was wrong.
Harry: I did think of Voldemort first. But then, I remembered that night on the train... and the Dementors...
Lupin: Well, well. I'm impressed. That suggests that what you fear most of all is... fear. Very wise.
Harry: Before I fainted... I heard something. A woman. Screaming.
Lupin: Dementors force us to relive the worst memories of our lives. Our pain becomes their power.
Harry: I think it was my mother. The night she was murdered.
(Harry looks up. Finds Lupin studying him)
Lupin: The first time I saw you, Harry, I recognized you immediately. Not by your scar. By your eyes. They're your mother Lily's. Yes. I knew her. She was there for me at a time when no one else was. We used to talk for hours. She was not only a singularly gifted witch but an uncommonly kind woman. She had a way of seeing the beauty in whoever she met, even -- and perhaps most especially -- when that person couldn't see it in themselves...
(Lupin's eyes glaze in memory, then he blinks, smiles)
Lupin: Which perhaps explains her affection for your father. James had, shall we say, a certain talent for trouble. A gift, rumor has it, he passed on to you.
(Lupin turns, eyes Harry affectionately. Harry smiles vaguely)
Lupin: I could tell you stories -- and there are many about your parents, Harry -- but know this...
(Lupin eyes Harry intensely)
Lupin: They lived. Every moment of every day. You should know that. That's how they'd want to be remembered.
Great Hall
(The Hall buzzes with tales of Hogsmeade, as students swap stories, sample sweets, and send soap bubbles of all shapes, sizes and colors into the air. A marionetter of a harlequin cavorts atop the Gryffindor table, moving its limbs in response to the strands of light that extend from Neville's fingertips. Seamus passes his hand through the light beams and -- FLUMPH! -- the Harlequin collapses)
Hermione: And the post office! It's about 200 owls, all sitting on color coded shelves, depending on how fast you want your letter to go!
Ron: And Honeyduke's is brilliant! Sugar Quills, Flaming Whizbees!
Y/n: Don't forget about the blood-flavored lollipops for Halloween.
(Harry nods, picking quietly through the spray of brilliantly colored sweets on the table. Y/n notices)
Y/n: I mean, after awhile, it got a bit boring. Don't you two think so?
Hermione: Oh yeah. Totally.
Ron: Huh? Oh. Yeah. Dead depressing. Hang on. I almost forgot. I got you something wicked at Dervish and Banges. It's a Pocket Sneakoscope.
(Ron places a small glass spinning top on the table)
Ron: If there's someone untrustworthy around, it's meant to light up and spin.
(Just when he says that the Sneakoscope starts lightning up and spinning. Ron, Hermione and Harry look at it confused while Y/n scoffs quietly)
Hermione: Why is it going off?
Harry: Don't know.
Y/n: Let me see it.
(Harry hands Y/n the Sneakoscope, Y/n takes out his wand and taps it once, making it stop)
Y/n: It was a little faulty but it should be fine now.
(Y/n hands it back to Harry)
Harry: Thanks.
Ron: Fred and George did say it's rubbish, sold for wizard tourists, but I thought, you know, it can't hurt, given that...
Harry: Sirius Black's trying to kill me.
(Harry looks up, grins at the three of them)
Harry: I'm glad you had a good time. Really. And thanks for this.
(Harry starts eyeing the Sneakoscope)
Harry: Rubbish or not, you're right. It can't hurt.
(With that, Harry pops a pepper imp into his mouth)
Y/n: Oh, careful of those, they'll make your...
(On cue, smoke curls from Harry's ears and nose)
Y/n: Never mind.
Moving Staircase - Seventh Floor Corridor
(As Y/n, Harry, Ron, and Hermione climb the stairs, they find a crowd gathering on the Seventh Floor landing)
Ron: What's the hold-up? Only Neville ever forgets the password.
(Percy pushes past the crowd)
Percy: Let me through, please. Excuse me, thank you, I'm Head Boy...
(He stops dead)
Percy: Back! All of you! No one is to enter this dormitory until it has been fully searched!
(Y/n, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchange dark glances, when Ginny emerges from the crowd, her face ashen)
Ginny: The Fat Lady... she's gone.
Y/n: She's gone?
Ron: Probably stuffing her face with the apples in that still life on the second floor again.
Ginny: No. You don't understand --
(Hermione gasps and grabs Y/n's hand. He looks and sees that the Fat Lady's portrait has been slashed viciously, great strips of canvas hanging from the frame. Just then, Dumbledore appears)
Dumbledore: Mr. Filch. Round up the ghosts. Tell them to search every paintingin the castle for the Fat Lady.
(Just then, there is a scream. The students dash to the landing, where all the painting whisper fearfully. Filch's rheumy eyes peer up, searching the upper shadows, then... narrow)
Filch: There'll be no need for ghosts, Professor...
(Filch extends a crooked finger. High up, near the ceiling, the Fat Lady cowers in a portrait not her own, trembling)
Dumbledore: Dear lady. Who did this to you?
Fat Lady: Eyes like the devil he's got. And a soul as dark as his name. It was him, Headmaster. The one they talk about. He's here. Somewhere in the castle. Sirius Black!
(As the students react, Dumbledore's voice cuts through)
Dumbledore: Secure the castle, Mr. Filch. The rest of you... to the Great Hall.
-----Time Skip-----
(Hogwarts is begin reinforced. Clock tower door: Great groaning tumblers fall. Spindles rotate. Cylinders one after another fire into place. Windows: Iron spikes, sharp as razors, rise instantly. One by one, deep in the distance, the lights of the Great Hall go out. Dementors appear, covering frame, then separate like a curtain)
Great Hall
(The Great Hall is completely silent, an ocean of sleeping bags lie on the floor and while everyone sleeps Harry is lying awake, staring at the net of stars glimmering beyond the highest window. A gentle creak is heard and Harry's eyes shift, see Snape pass through the great doors, converge with Dumbledore)
Snape: I've done the dungeons, Headmaster. No sign of Black. Nor anywhere else in the castle.
Dumbledore: I didn't really expect him to linger.
Snape: Remarkable feat, don't you think? To enter Hogwarts castle on one's own, completely undetected...
(Dumbledore gazes at the students, refusing to take the bait)
Snape: You may recall, prior to the start of term, I did express my concerns when you appointed Professor --
Dumbledore: I do not believe a single professor inside this castle would have helped Sirius Black enter it, Severus.
(As Snape's eyes glitter darkly, Dumbledore gazes out over the slumbering students)
Dumbledore: No... I feel quite confident the castle is safe. And I'm more than willing to let the students return to their Houses. But tomorrow. For now, let them sleep...
(As Dumbledore's gaze finds Harry, he shuts his eyes, feigns sleep)
Dumbledore: It's astonishing what the body can endure when the mind allows itself to rest.
Hogwarts Castle Grounds
(The Whomping Willow idly casts off a few withering leaves)
Sir Cadogan: What villains are these that trespass upon my private lands!
Gryffindor Common Room
(The Fat Lady has been replaced by a painting of a tiny knight: Sir Cadogan. Stalking a bare stretch of grassas his pony grazes nearby, he brandishes his sword wildly as a group of Gryffindors regard him warily)
Sir Cadogan: Who dares challenge Sir Cadogan! Back, you scurvy braggarts! You rogues!
Seamus: He's barking mad!
Dean: What d'you expect? After what happened to the Fat Lady, none of the other pictures would take the job.
Neville: But he keeps changing the password. Twice just this morning! I've taken to keeping a list.
(As Neville holds up a wrinkled piece of parchment, Y/n, Harry, Ron and Hermione begin to exit)
Sir Cadogan: Farewell, comrades! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!
Y/n: Yeah, we'll be sure to call you... if we ever need someone insane.
Lupin's Classroom
(SNAP! Snape pulls down a screen over the blackboard, turns)
Snape: Turn to page 394.
(As the students eye Snape with guarded curiosity, Malfoy finishes scrawling something on a bit of parchment and balls it up in his hands. As he opens them, a moth flutters from his palms)
Harry: Excuse me, sir, but... where's Professor Lupin?
Snape: That's not really your concern, is it, Potter? Suffice it to say, your Professor finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time. Page 394.
(Snape waves the moth away, blows out a candle and a slideshow begins. An ancient woodcut of a horrific beast flickers at the front of the room. Y/n frowns down at his book, looking at the pages)
Y/n: Werewolves?
Hermione: But, sir, we've only just begun learning about Red Caps and Hinkypunks. We're not meant to start nocturnal beasts for weeks --
Snape: Quiet!
(Ron turns to whisper to Y/n and Harry)
Ron: When did she come in? Did either one of you see her come in...
Y/n: Nope.
Snape: Now. Which of you can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a werewolf?
(As the class stares mutely at a slide of an attacking werewolf, Hermione waiting desperately for someone to respond to Snape's question, the moth flutters by Harry. SWAT! He pins it to his desk. A tiny cloud of moth dust mushrooms into the air and Harry lifts his palm. Malfoy's parchment has reappeared)
Snape: No one? How... disappointing.
Hermione: Please, sir, an Animagus is a wizard who elects to turn into an animal. A werewolf has no choice in the matter. Furthermore, the werewolf actively hunts humans and responds only to the call of its own kind --
(Malfoy lets out a low howl)
Snape: Quiet, Malfoy! Though one must admit to feeling your pain. That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Tell me. Are you incapable of restraining yourself? Or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?
Ron: He's got a point, you know.
(Harry stares at the parchment. Malfoy has drawn a crude caricature of Harry in his Quidditch robes being struck by lightning over and over)
Snape: Five points from Gryffindor!
(Snape catches Y/n staring at him blankly)
Snape: As a antidote to your ignorance, I prescribe two rolls of parchment on the werewolf by Monday morning, with particular emphasis placed on recognizing it. Passing notes, Potter?
(Snape snatches the drawing from under Harry's nose. Eyes it)
Snape: Not exactly Picasso, are you? I hope you demonstrate more talent on the Quidditch pitch this weekend then you do as an artist. If not, I fear you'll perish, given the weather forecast. Until that time, however, you'll forgive me if I don't let you off homework. Should you die, I assure you... you need not hand it in.
(As Snape turns away, Malfoy sniggers with Crabbe, Coyle and Pike. Harry glances down at the drawing once more and he hears a true rumble of thunder)
Quidditch Pitch
(As it strikes one of the golden quidditch rings and the clouds bloom with icy blue light. Far below, in the stands, rain lashes the sea of umbrellas. As one flies free, soaring end over end into the sky, the crowd explodes and two Quidditch squads Gryffindor in scarlet, Hufflepuff in canary-yellow shoot into the air.
Twin bludgers fire skyward, and the match is on. Harry is rising like a rocket through the mist, his robes snapping violently in the wind. As he flies, rain falling like needles before him, every dark cloud concealing potential danger. Beaters crisscross his path. A bludger whizzes past, then a second rockets directly at him.
SWOOP! Harry ducks, watches the bludger shatter the broom of a Hufflepuff beater. The Beater goes into a wild spiral, vanishes in the mist. Ron squints upward, the players little more than streaking blurs from his vantage. KA-SSSST! A stitch of lightning strikes the tail of Angelina Johnson's broom.
As it bursts into flames, she plummets to the pitch. Ron looks down at his own hand. In the highly-charged air, the hair above his knuckles rises. Y/n is flying around the field, he blocks some Hufflepuffs from scoring. In the sky, Harry flies fearlessly, searching for the Snitch as Bludgers pierce the clouds above him and chasers flit in and out of view far below.
Suddenly, in the stands opposite, a black umbrella flies from the hand of a Ravenclaw girl. For a moment, it sails wondrously through the heavy air, a Magritte dream, then -- WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! -- abruptly picks up speed, rotating like a hatchet. Harry ducks, turns, and watches it disappear into a bank of clouds.
Then something glimmers: the Snitch. Instantly, Harry jets off closing fast on the tiny, glimmering ball, chasing it through one cloud then another and another until he breaks into a clear patch of sky only to find the Snitch is gone.
Angrily, Harry whips the Nimbus backaround, searching the horizon frantically, when he spies something. In the stadium's highest tower, something enormous flickers briefly in silhouette, then is obscured by a veil of mist. Harry turns.
In the distance, the stray umbrella spins into view, harpoons a player. Harry's eyes shift. The snitch shimmers like a firefly in the dark underbelly of a cloud. Harry begins to go when the veil of mist shrouding the high tower shifts and -- for one brief moment -- a great dog is revealed.
As this mist closes, Harry frowns, jets away. As Harry pelts after the Snitch, the crowd rises to their feet, roaring. Ron grins over the binoculars, watching Harry shred the mist as he urges his broom on)
Harry: Come on! Faster!
(The trace of a smile forms on Harry's lips as he closes on the Snitch only yards away, reaching out when a thin glaze of ice clouds his glasses. He wipes at them, then flinches: blood trickles down his cheek. The rain is turning to needles. Needles of ice. Harry glances at the handle of his broomstick.
The water sluicing through the grain is freezing. Vapor streams from his mouth and nose. SWOOSH! A dark silhouette passes on his right. He turns. SWOOSH! A twin silhouette passes on his left. Harry sees neither. Looks down. The layers of mist are parting below.
Lightning strikes. Reveals: an army of silhouettes drifting onto the pitch. A vast legion of them... Dementors. A distant whistle weaves into the wind, rises in pitch, not a whistle at all, but ascream. A woman's scream. Harry's eyes flutter, and wisps of silvery white light float from his mouth. His glasses glaze over completely. His fingers, rigid, can no longer grip the broom and... He falls)
Hermione: No!!!
(Y/n looks at the falling Harry)
Y/n: Harry!
(He goes to catch him but he is denied as the bludger flies after him. Harry and broom tumble in opposite directions. The Nimbus soars end over end, tossed by the currents, then drops right into the Whomping Willow. Harry, in freefall, drops through one cloud, then another.
Plummeting through the circling Dementors. Then a tall figure rises from the crowd. Raises an open hand to the heavens. Eyes angry but clear. Dumbledore. An explosion -- more powerful than thunder -- rocks the air. A flash -- more fierce than lightning -- shocks the sky. And then... everything goes black for Harry)
Hospital Wing
(Harry doesn't hear a sound. For the longest time. Then... he hears voices)
Ron: Looks a bit peaky, doesn't he?
Y/n: Peaky? What do you expect him to look like? The guy fell fifty feet.
George: Yeah, c'mon, Ron. We'll walk you off the Astronomy Tower and see how you come out looking.
Fred: Probably a right sight better than he normally does.
(Harry opens his eyes and Y/n, Ron, Fred, George, and Hermione slowly come into focus, standing at the foot of his bed in the hospital wing)
Hermione. Harry! How're you feeling?
(As Harry edges up against his pillow, a nurse in the b.g. is removing the spokes of an umbrella from a Hufflepuff player's neck. Harry doesn't look so good himself)
Harry: Brilliant.
Y/n: You gave us a good scare.
Harry: What happened?
Ron: You fell off your broom.
Harry: Really? I meant the match. Who won?
(Silence. Uncomfortable glances)
Hermione: No one blames you, Harry. The Dementors aren't meant to come on the grounds. Dumbledore was furious. After he saved you, he sent them straight off.
(Harry nods grimly, stares at the rain lashing the window)
Y/n: There's something else you should know, Harry.
(Y/n looks at Ron and nods)
Ron: Your Nimbus -- when it blew away? -- it sort of landed in the Whomping Willow. And well...
(He tips a bag of splintered wood and twisted twigs onto the bed. As Harry stares at them)
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M3, CHAPTER 6 IS DONE :)
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Word Count: 2856