Power He Knows Not

Welcome Back

"Harry? Harry!"

Voices called to him from a great distance, rousing his pounding head, and slowly bringing him back to awareness.

He was lying on something firm, but comfortable, and his head was aching.

Letting out a low groan, Harry slowly cracked open his eyes, almost immediately shutting them again with a soft hiss. The train was moving again, and the compartment lights were on, brightening the room but making his headache worse.

"What happened?" He asked slowly, raising an arm to shield himself from the light bleeding through his eyelids.

Dementors. Riddle answered, just as Hermione said,

"You fainted. We were really worried. You wouldn't wake up."

"Wh-what was that thing?" He asked aloud, inwardly frowning at Riddle's Uncararistically muted voice in his head.

"A Dementor." A voice he didn't recognize said, "they guard Azkaban, and were searching the train for Sirius Black. Can you sit up?"

Harry took a moment to roll that thought around his head. Dementors guarded Azkaban, a place even Hagrid feared to go. But what happened?

Dementors feed on happy memories. Riddle said duly, their mere presence literally sucks the joy out of the air around them. Being in the vicinity of a Dementor can make even Dumbledore relive his worst memories. Given the chance, they will suck out your soul.

Harry couldn't suppress the violent shudder that wracked his body at that information. He now knew why Hagrid had been so afraid of Azkaban last year.

"Harry?"

"Is everyone else alright?" Harry asked, trying to distract himself from the icy feeling still clawing at his insides.

"Everyone is perfectly safe." The unknown man said, "the Dementor is gone. If you feel well enough to sit up, I have some chocolate here. It helps with the residual effects of Dementors."

Feeling clammy and sick, Harry nevertheless pushed himself onto his elbows, and slowly sat up, his eyes screwed shut against the pounding headache beating the inside of his skull. His stomach twisted in on itself, as he swung his legs over the side of the cushioned bench he was sitting on. Gripping the side, he hunched over his knees, jaw clenched against the wave of nausea that nearly overwhelmed him. Harry took deep breaths through his nose, fighting back the acidic taste of bile.

Prying his eyes open, Harry saw Professor Lupin crouched in front of him, a worried frown making him seem even older.

"Here. When you feel up to it, eat some of this," he set a bar of Honeydukes chocolate on the seat next to Harry, "it really will help."

Harry nodded as Lupin stood.

"I need to go speak with the driver. If you'll excuse me."

As the professor left, Harry looked around at his friends. They were all pale and nibbling on their own bars of chocolate. Ginny looked especially unwell; her face was tinged green, and she was shivering.

Once Harry didn't feel like opening his mouth would result in a puddle of vomit on his own shoes, he slowly leaned back, and carefully opened the bar of chocolate Professor Lupin had left for him. Breaking off a small piece, he slipped it into his mouth and let it melt on his tongue. As the rich sweet taste spread through his mouth, Harry felt a warm feeling begin to spread through him as well, easing the chill he hadn't realized still clung to him.