Madame Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry on the Hospital Wing for the whole weekend, to which Harry didn't argue. Gwen, Ron and Hermione stayed by his bedside the whole time, save for nights, taking it in turns to get food from the Great Hall, when several people came in, including Hagrid who dropped off a bunch of flowers that looked like cabbages, and Ginny who, blushing bright red, brought Harry a get well soon card that she had made herself that sang when he opened it.
Harry kept the bag of his broken Nimbus Two Thousand beside him. It was beyond repair, everyone knew that, and nobody tried to take it from him. Gwen understood why. It was his pride and joy. She'd seen his face when he found out what had happened to it, and she knew she'd probably have had the same reaction if it had been her broom.
The Gryffindor team revisited on Sunday morning, this time joined by Oliver Wood, who, hollowly, told Harry he did not blame him at all. Despite Wood's being distraught at their loss, it was clear he truly didn't blame Harry and that he was glad he was OK.
Nothing anyone said or did seemed to bring Harry's spirits up. It was Sunday evening when Ron and Hermione had gone down to dinner when Gwen and Harry were alone. Gwen was sitting at the table beside Harry's bed, completing the werewolf essay that had been set by Snape, when Harry finally spoke.
'Gwen. I saw the Grim in the stands. Right before I fell.'
Gwen's quill suddenly stopped. A spot of ink dripped onto her parchment. She looked at Harry. His face was grim. Gwen would be lying if she said the thought hadn't been troubling her. She couldn't explain why there was a dog in the Quidditch stands, and she couldn't explain why it had been watching Harry. She'd mulled over the thought of the Grim, but hadn't wanted to believe it. She'd convinced herself that she'd made it up. She knew if she said anything to Ron he'd panic, and Hermione would just scoff. But now, Harry was saying he had also seen it.
'Me too,' she said finally.
The relief washed over Harry's expression. He had clearly had a similar thought process to her.
'Why would we have seen it?'
Gwen inhaled. 'I don't know. I didn't... I didn't really want to believe it.'
They fell into silence. It was a relief knowing they'd both seen the same thing, but now they were struck with how ominous it was. Neither of them could understand what that meant for them. Neither of them knew what the consequence would be.
'I heard my mum, too,' Harry said suddenly.
Gwen stared at him. 'What?'
'I heard my mum. The night she died. The Dementors...' he shuddered. Gwen reached out to take his hand.
'Harry, we'll get through this. The Dementors are only here until Sirius Black's caught. That's going to be soon, I'm sure. He's had one close call, right?'
Harry nodded. 'He could kill me before he's caught. He would've done it on Hallowe'en if he'd had the chance.'
Gwen didn't know what to say. She turned back to her essay, biting her lip nervously. 'We'll be OK,' she said eventually.
• • •
On Monday, Harry joined Gwen, Ron and Hermione back in the main school, where neither Gwen or Harry had a chance to think about their troubles. Draco Malfoy was almost beside himself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat. He had finally taken off his bandages and celebrated having the full use of both his arms again by doing spirited imitations of Harry falling off his broom. Malfoy spent most of their next Potions lesson doing Dementor imitations across the classroom; Ron finally cracked, flinging a large, slippery crocodile heart at Malfoy which hit him in the face, to which Snape took fifty points from Gryffindor.
'If Snape's taking Defence Against the Dark Arts again, I'm going off sick,' said Ron as they headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch. 'Check who's in there, Hermione.'
Hermione peered around the classroom door.
'It's OK!'
Professor Lupin was back at work. He definitely looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows under his eyes. Gwen studied him closely, trying to ignore the niggling feeling she had. Lupin smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behaviour while Lupin had been ill.
'It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he set us homework?'
'We don't know anything about werewolves--'
'-- Two rolls of parchment!'
'Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?' Lupin asked, frowning slightly. The class broke out again.
'Yes, but he said we were really behind--'
'-- He wouldn't listen--'
'-- Two rolls of parchment!'
Professor Lupin smiled at the class.
'Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay.'
'Oh, no,' said Hermione, looking very disappointed. 'I've already finished it.'
Gwen quietly tucked Snape's essay back in her bag.
They had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass boc containing a Hinkypunk, a little one legged creature who seemed as though he was made of wisps and smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.
'Lures travellers into bogs,' said Professor Lupin as they took notes. 'You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead... people follow the light... then--'
The Hinkypunk made a horrible, squelching noise against the glass.
When teh bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Gwen and Harry among them. They stopped when Lupin called out.
'Harry, Gwen, wait a moment,' he said. 'I'd like a word.'
'I heard about the match,' said Lupin, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase. 'And I'm sorry about your broomstick, Harry. Is there any chance of fixing it?'
'No,' said Harry. 'The tree smashed it to bits.'
Lupin sighed. '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.'
Lupin looked at Gwen. 'And I hear, also, Gwen, that you acted admirably.'
Gwen smiled bashfully.
'That was quite the feat, saving Harry from that fall. You should be proud of yourself.'
Harry swallowed. 'Did you hear about the Dementors, too?'
Lupin glanced at him quickly. '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. He hesitated, looking at Gwen for a brief second, then said. 'Why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just--?'
'It has nothing to do with weakness,' said Professor Lupin sharply. 'The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have.'
A ray of wintry sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Lupin's grey hairs and the lines on his young face.
'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 and hope and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles can feel their presence, even though they can't see them. Get too close to a Dementor and every good feeling, every good 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 thing that has happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of. Neither of you do.'
'When they get near me,' Harry stared at Lupin's desk. 'I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum.'
Gwen's eyes began to burn. She couldn't imagine what that would feel like, what that would be like to hear. Compared to that, Tom was a gift.
Lupin made a sudden movement with his arm as though he made to grip Harry's shoulder, but thought better of it.
'What do you feel, Gwen?'
Lupin's question surprised her. 'Sorry?' she said.
'When you're near the Dementors?'
Gwen swallowed, feeling as though she did not have the right to say what she could hear.
'Tom Riddle,' she said finally, her throat tight. 'I can hear him... killing me again.'
Harry shared a bitter look with Gwen.
'Why did they come to the match?' he said. 'What was the point?'
'They're getting hungry,' said Lupin coolly, shutting his briefcase. '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 awful,' Gwen muttered. Lupin nodded gravely.
'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...'
Lupin's briefcase slipped from the desk. He had to stoop quickly to catch it.
'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...'
'You made that Dementor on the train back off,' Gwen said.
'There are certain defences one can use,' said Lupin. 'But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist.'
'What defences?' said Harry 'Can you teach us?'
'I don't pretend to be an expert in fighting Dementors, Harry. Quite the contrary...'
'But if the Dementors come onto another Quidditch match,' Gwen said, 'What if Harry falls again? I can't always be there to catch him, he needs to fight them.'
Lupin looked into Gwen and Harry's determined faces, hesitated, then said, 'Well... alright. I'll try to help, but it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill.'
'Thank you, Professor,' Harry said sincerely.
Gwen smiled. 'Thank you.'
'Now,' said Professor Lupin checking his watch. 'You'd both best get back to your dormitories. The feast will be starting soon.'
Gwen and Harry nodded. They turned away as Lupin took his briefcase from his desk. Gwen paused, thinking, then turned back, taking her werewolf essay from her bag. She handed it to Professor Lupin.
'You don't need to hand it in,' he said coolly.
'I know. I just...' she swallowed, 'thought you might want a read.'