𝗷𝗮𝗻𝗲, harry potter

˗ˋ 62

CHAPTER SIXTY TWO
✧
-: fourth year :-

── IN WHICH THE DEMENTORS
COME AND GO

. . .

Too.

Too.

She saw them too?

But how could she see them?

Harry couldn't even comprehend that the Dementors were there, in the Little Whinging as opposed to Azkaban, let alone that Jane could see them. How could she see them? Only people and creatures of magic qualities could see things like Dementors; it was the very first thing that Professor Quirrel (as quite literally two-faced as he was) had taught them in his Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. 

Jane wasn't supposed to see them. Dudley couldn't see them, and he was a Muggle just like her. Unless... unless there was something more, and there was a reason that Jane had ended up with a witch like Flora. A friend of Dumbledore's.. seemed to know everyone else from Mrs Weasley to Madam Vera. 

But if Jane was a witch then Flora and Angela wouldn't have gone to the lengths that they did to keep the wizarding world hidden from Jane's view until the right moment. If she was a witch then how, and why did they keep it a secret? Thanks to Hermione, Harry knew all about the experimental magic that a would burst out of a child, and how if it wasn't nutured by attending Hogwarts and learning how to use it for some good, it could fester and grow into something else.

And Ron said his parents recognised her last name - surely that meant something, right? He couldn't think that surname was all too common, especially not in the wizarding world where Mr and Mrs Weasley would know who it belonged to.

"Harry! Harry!" Jane's hand was on his arm and the pools of grey met green, breaking him from the trance he had found himself in. "Harry - you see them too, don't you? But why doesn't he?" She asked, looking between the cousins.

"What? Yes - yes, I see them." Harry nodded, turning his gaze to Dudley and releasing him suddenly, stepping back away from his cousin, flexing his knuckles and reaching for his pocket, praying, hoping that he had remembered his wand after weeks of thinking to leave it behind, that he wouldn't need it and that him and Jane would be safe. He had never felt more relieved than when he felt the long, carved stick of wood in his pocket and pulled it out. "Jane - Jane, listen to me."

"Harry, I.. I don't know what's  going on - what is that thing, why doesn't Dudley see it - why is Dudley running towards it?" Her voice was panicked, words speeding up as the blundering Dursley boy ran towards the cloud of darkness, which was taking deep, rattling breaths and had every single hair on their bodies standing up on end.

"Dudley - Dudley you moron!" Harry suddenly felt the same panicked feeling that Jane did and he scrambled to pull his wand out of his pocket, his mind blank, spare hand automatically reaching for Jane to pull her behind him. She might be some magical being - which was the only logical conclusion Harry could even come close to - but she was completely defenseless.  

"You're running at it Dudley - Dudley stop!" The darkness was spreading now and he could hardly see anything, the grip on Jane's hand only tightening as she stood frozen, unable to comprehend what was going on. There was a horrible squealing yell, and Dudley's footsteps stopped. "Dudley?" He shouted. There was no reply. "Dudley - keep your mouth shut, whatever you do, keep your mouth shut!"