(Y/N) couldn't tell how long it had been since she sat at the base of that tree. Her back ached, and though she wrapped herself in Harry's jacket, the cold still crept through her bones. She was due for a good nap, but couldn't sleep. The faintest noise had her snapping awake and peering around for the shape of Sirius or the wolf.

Hermione, however, was fast asleep, her soft breathing a small comfort. She'd rested her head on (Y/N)'s shoulder and was out not ten minutes later. How she managed to sleep like that was beyond her – (Y/N) was a nervous wreck.

Harry was not much better off. When he wasn't staring at the water's edge, he was playing with his fingers or thumbing the hem of his shirt. It was a habit she'd long noticed, a sign of his nerves, no matter how hard he tried hiding them. And he didn't like talking about his nerves because he was like her, and dwelling made it worse.

She needed to think of something to say. And really, it wasn't hard, considering what was weighing heavy on her mind.

"Lupin's my godfather."

Harry's eyes met hers in an instant, his brows furrowing. She thought maybe she could've had a bit more tact, but he was certainly distracted now.

"What?"

"Lupin," she said again. "He's my godfather."

"When did you find that out?"

"Right before he transformed." (Y/N) lifted her head and Hermione shifted slightly. It didn't matter; she always slept heavy.

"Why didn't he say anything earlier?" Harry said.

"I didn't ask why," she admitted. "It wasn't important then." Though now she found herself regretting it. She promised herself she would ask as soon as everything was through.

Quiet fell over them again, and she said the next thing she'd been thinking about.

"What happened at the lake before?"

Harry knew what she meant. She knew because he began toying with pine straw on the ground. "You passed out," he answered. "After that, I don't really remember much. Just the patronus and the man on the other side of the lake."

"Your dad," (Y/N) ventured.

"Yes." He nodded. Before (Y/N) could even open her mouth, he continued, "I know it sounds mental, and that I'm grasping at straws but I saw him."

"I believe you," she swore. And she did. With the dementors all around and Harry on the brink of collapse himself, he could've seen anything. But whether or not his dad was truly there was a different matter entirely. The mind could conjure up a lot under the guise of comfort.

She didn't say that, though. She couldn't when Harry looked so surprised that she didn't start teasing him straightaway; telling him he was being stupid.

"Thanks," he all but whispered, turning his face to the ground. It didn't matter. (Y/N) still saw the flush of his cheeks.

She felt her own grow warm. "'Course."

Finally, they saw movement by the willow. (Y/N) watched as Hermione tended to Ron, as she went to Professor Lupin up the hill, and as Harry stood by Sirius' side.

"He asked me to come and live with him, Sirius," said Harry, getting up to see better.

"Really? And will you?"

"Definitely." Harry smiled for the first time in hours. (Y/N) was glad to see it. "When we free him, I'll never have to go back to the Dursleys'. We can live in the country; someplace where you can see the sky." He looked back at her. "And you can stay with us, too. If you're not moving in with Lupin, I mean. You won't have to go back to Malfoy's either."

She hadn't thought about that.

Never going back home?

There was a time she would've wished for it, but then, she wasn't sure. Part of her had thought, once – hoped, even – that maybe she'd belong there. But that part of her felt distant and disconnected, like something she might've been starting to outgrow.

Still, the thought of leaving everything behind – her room, those halls... the frigid silences and quiet dinners – it left her with a pit in her stomach.

Then again, she reckoned if she were to disappear, Lucius Malfoy might be the last to notice. He likely wouldn't even miss her at all, and would carry on as though nothing had changed. In fact, he may find himself better off for it. She wasn't sure which she thought was worse, his indifference or that he could actually be relieved, but the idea of finding out which he would be made her feel sick.

Draco, too, was less of a brother those days and more like a schoolyard bully. He got meaner, his words got sharper; his presence a burden instead of a comfort like it once was. When he'd keep his distance at school, she couldn't help but be relieved. And if she never came home, he'd likely be grateful for the extra attention her absence afforded him.

But Narcissa...

Her chest tightened. (Y/N) couldn't imagine ever leaving her behind.

There was a loud howl, startling Hermione awake. (Y/N)'s hand had flown to her wand, but there was no immediate danger. Under the willow, in the moonlight, Professor Lupin had transformed. They watched as Harry tore down the hillside after the wolf and Sirius, and how (Y/N) had followed him seconds later.

"Let's go!" Harry started running, too, following their past selves.

(Y/N) helped Hermione, still half-asleep and dazed, to her feet, before they followed him.

He'd stopped with a clear view. The moment before Professor Lupin almost killed Sirius.

"No, stop!" (Y/N) heard herself cry, and Harry threw a rock to get the wolf's attention. It wheeled around, and it was as if (Y/N) was standing across the clearing. She felt her blood run cold.

Then, from behind her, "AWOOOOOO!"

She and Harry turned and found Hermione, her hands cupped around her mouth. Harry was quick to move her hands away to stop her from trying it again.

"What're you doing!"

She pulled away from him. "Saving your lives!" She cupped her hands around her mouth again, and "AWOOOOOO!"

The wolf gave an answering howl, forgetting about the two in front of him.

"It was you," (Y/N) said. "You were the one who saved us then!"

Hermione smiled. "It's been known to happen."

"Yes, except now it's headed straight for us!" Sure enough, the wolf was charging at them with an unrelenting speed. (Y/N)'s heart fell into her stomach.

"Yeah," breathed Hermione. "Didn't think about that. Run!"

So they did, as fast as their legs could carry them across dirt and roots and mud. But trying to outrun a werewolf was hopeless. (Y/N)'s mind was racing, scrambling for a plan. She couldn't use any defensive spells; she didn't want to hurt Professor Lupin. Even if she had a spell to use, she wouldn't be quick enough to get him before he got her.

Hermione grabbed her, and (Y/N) felt her back collide into Harry. He barely managed to keep from falling as Hermione stepped in close, watching for the wolf.

(Y/N) tried to catch her breath and steady her heart. Her hands were shaking, and she gripped her wand so tightly, her nails dug into her palm. She listened as the wolf's footsteps came closer and closer.

They moved around the tree to counter it. Every step cut through the silence – crunching leaves underfoot, snapping twigs that spiked her nerves. They froze and it was silent. For a moment, she thought maybe they'd outsmarted him.

But when she dared a glance over her shoulder, it was all it took for her not to scream. There it stood, only a few paces away, watching. And the instant the wolf started moving, (Y/N) moved, too.

Her breath caught when she realized what she'd done. She'd pushed Harry behind her without a single thought, and now the wolf stood on its hind legs before her, its foul breath hot against her face. Its claws... long, and sharp, and coming straight down on her –

But it never came.

There was a loud screech as Buckbeak swooped between them, rearing up and ruffling his feathers. And thankfully, the wolf pulled back, and retreated deeper into the wood.

"Are you okay?" Harry demanded, his hand gripping her arm. It felt grounding; safe.

"I think so,"

"Oh, thank goodness," said Hermione.

(Y/N) turned to Buckbeak, who was looking at them as if he were wondering the same thing. She nodded her thanks, still reeling.

There was barely a moment to catch their breaths before the chill crept in. (Y/N) pulled Harry's jacket tighter around her and looked up. Dementors, at least twenty, wafted above them towards the lake. Towards, "Sirius," Harry breathes. "Come on!"

The three of them set off again, tearing through the trees. They stop at the water's edge. Sirius lays unconscious on the bank. (Y/N) saw herself beside him, and watched as the Dementor sank over her, its grip tightening on her chin. She watched as Harry fumbled for his wand, and the small wisp of light he'd conjured – the brief reprieve he'd granted her then before he'd been attacked too.

"This is horrible," Hermione said in a small voice.

"Don't worry," said Harry. "My dad will come. He'll conjure the Patronus."

(Y/N) wanted to believe him, but as she watched themselves across the water, she wasn't quite sure. More Dementors swooped in on them. She could hear herself crying, could see how Sirius trembled, could still feel that sinking, horrible cold. "Harry–"

"Any second now," he said. "Right there. You'll see."

Hermione reached for her wand. "Harry, no one's coming."

"Don't worry he will," he said with certainty. "He will come."

But no one was there. Hermione was right; no one was coming. It was just the three of them, and if they didn't do anything soon...

"Look at us!" (Y/N) tried. "We don't have time to wait."

"You're dying... all of you."

(Y/N) could see the moment Harry got an idea. Without a word, he tore down the hillside, and stood at the edge of the water. Hermione gripped (Y/N)'s arm before she could even think to follow.

"It's not safe!" she warned urgently.

"Then he shouldn't be alone!" (Y/N) snapped without meaning to.

Harry already had his wand. There was no doubt. No hesitation, not even for a moment. It seemed as though it was instinct that made him raise his wand high into the night and bellow, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The light that followed was unlike anything (Y/N)'d ever seen. It was blinding, radiant, unyielding. Bright enough to make her flinch, bright enough to burn into her memory. She shielded her eyes, but it was more than just light. This was a force; this was power. Her breath hitched as she felt the warmth wash over her chest even then. When she peeled her arm back, the Dementors were gone. Banished, as though they had never existed at all.

All that remained was Harry, standing at the water's edge, his shoulders rising and falling with each ragged breath.

(Y/N) couldn't look away.

"It was him," she realizes. He had saved them.

When Harry turned around, he had the most brilliant smile on his face.