a/n: I'm sorry but Harry in the goggles in the scene makes me laugh

"As you try not to pass out; Desperately fighting to remain in the realm of the conscious as the sound of a rasping grating breathing overpowers all others. The world becomes a blur as your head throbs, and your eyes become heavy, rolling back in their sockets." 

-Dementor by Rebecca Watling

           ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕕. 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕒𝕝𝕝 (𝕪/𝕟) 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝. As the thought of Sirius Black getting closer to Harry consumes her being, threatening to show the panic on her face. She was too busy staring absentmindedly at the ripped up Gryffindor painting, scanning her brain on how she could protect him, that she didn't notice Harry gently pulling her out of the trance.

"(Y/n)," he whispered gently, "we gotta go," he said. Arms still linked together as he tugged for her to move her feet. "Dumbledore says we have to go," she stares at the raven-haired boy with concern flickering in his eyes. The frightened girls' friends trying their best to get her to move without overwhelming her. She nods, still feeling like this is all one big never-ending nightmare.

The four Gryffindors stood in the Great Hall, the rest of their house joining. The Ravenclaws, Slytherins, and Hufflepuffs eventually came flooding in, with looks of fear and confusion on all of their faces. As they didn't see first hand the destruction followed by the quick conversation between Peeves and Dumbledore, confirming the presence of Sirius Black inside the school. 

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore explained, as the doors to the Great Hall were about to be closed. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here," as Dumbledore begins to leave he turns. "Oh yes, you'll be needing..." The powerful wizard waves his hand in the air, skillfully sending the long tables flying to the edges of the Hall, the floor becoming covered with hundreds of purple sleeping bags in their place. "Sleep well," he smiled, closing the doors behind him.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" Percy shouted. "Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!" (y/n) rolled her eyes at the third oldest Weasley boys inflated pride at the fact that he was put in charge of the Gryffindors. 

"C'mon," said Ron as the group found their sleeping bags, Ron next to Hermione, Harry next to (y/n).

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione anxiously whispered, eyes darting between her friends for an answer. 

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," Ron answered. 

They all climb into their sleeping bags still fully dressed, Hermione continuing the conversation once they're all settled in. "It's very lucky he picked tonight you know. The one night we weren't in the Tower...."

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," Ron suggested. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise, he'd have come bursting in here." The group shuddered at the thought. Everyone around them contemplating in rough whispers how the murderer could have snuck in. Some suggested he Apparated, put on a disguise, or flown in. (Y/n) becomes annoyed at the constant talk of the incident, wanting to just erase it from her mind, the thought of it giving her anxiety. Hermione is also annoyed, but only because of the inaccuracy of the other student's suggestions.

"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" The bushy-haired girl scoffs, making (y/n) chuckle at the obsession the girl has with the book. She's relieved at the moment of peace this provides her, a distraction from the current events, even if it was just for a moment. 

"Probably," Ron mutters under his breath. 

"The castle's protected by more than walls, you know. There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in, too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered..." 

Hermione's frustrated rant was interrupted by Percy's yelling. "The lights are going out now! I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!" (y/n) couldn't help but shiver at the fact that the murder could get in and out of heavily guarded places, making nowhere feel safe. All the candles that illuminated the large Hall, making the shadows dance on the walls, all went out at once. Leaving only the bewitched night ceiling and silvery ghosts to add a dim luminescence. I should do the bewitching thing to my ceiling, (y/n) thought to herself smiling. 

Harry stares at the ethereal girl laying beside him, smiling to himself at how she's admiring the night sky, adoring it. Not noticing him, until he sees the fear that consumes her. Her face contorts from smiling to frowning. Trying not to be too suffocating, he picks up a piece of her hair that lays on the cold ground and begins to twirl it around his finger.

"What's the matter?" He asks in a gentle whisper, the stormy eyed girl giving him a thankful smile, him never failing to bring her out of her darkest thoughts, making them seem a little lighter. 

She sighs, "I'm gonna be honest with you Harry, I'm worried about this whole thing. I'm scared for you," she gives him an apologetic look and glances back up at the ceiling. "Between my vision and Sirius being in the castle, I can't help but feel useless. I don't know..it's hard to explain." Her lip quivers as a tear glistens in the faint light and wipes it as fast as she can, hoping Harry didn't notice. She was a fool to think he wouldn't, he always notices, but he never pushes her on it. He just makes sure he's there for her and that's one of the many things she appreciates about him. Fear and sadness engulf her emotions, and she can't help but feel alone. 

"Are you kidding? I get it, I mean I'm scared too. I-" he stops for a second, staring at the lost expression on (y/n)'s face and he feels useless too. Not for him, but for the fact that he can't help with her visions. She won't let him in, which he understands, but it kills him to have to just watch from afar as whatever she saw eats away at her. "Black is coming after me. But I know I'll be alright. I am the boy who lived after all."  

(Y/n) chuckles and wipes the lingering tears off her freckled cheeks. "Thanks," she says, as she turns to him with a warm smile and he gives her one in return, the two gratefully looking at each other's tired expressions. Harry, once again, takes his pinky and wraps it around hers while his other hand still plays with her strand of hair. "Is that your new thing?" She chuckles. "It must be, yeah," he laughs back, awestricken at the beauty that lays next to him. They fall asleep looking at each other, smiles on their faces. 

The teachers checked in every hour, to make sure everything was quiet. At around three in the morning, once everyone was asleep, Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape quietly checked on the Hall. Dumbledore looked around, eyes landing on the two Gryffindors with their pinkies interlocked, peaceful smiles on their resting faces. He smiled, bringing McGonagall's attention to the scene. He thought about James and Lily, when they were students there, and when they had Harry. Dumbledore turns to McGonagall as a memory creeps into his mind. 

"You know, James and Lily used to do that when they were students here. They would sit in the common room, with their pinkies wrapped around each other. Come to think of it, when Lily had Harry, she used to do that to him when he would get fussy." Dumbledore chuckled as he said, "I guess Harry subconsciously picked up on it, even though he doesn't remember." McGonagall smiled, hand to her heart at the sight with Snape scowling behind her, "They won't admit that they care for each other. It's dreadful waiting," she says. 

The four friends begin to wake at the sound of the whispers in the Hall. Snape asks Dumbledore if he has any idea how Black could have gotten into the castle, which he says he has many. Snape suggests that there could have been inside help, to which Dumbledore doesn't agree. He dismisses himself to go back down to the Dementors, claiming that they will not cross the threshold as long as he is Headmaster. As they leave Harry, Hermione, Ron, and (y/n) all share confused glances as to what the urgency of their conversation was about. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was the day before the big Quidditch match. Oliver Wood was frustrated at the situation they were in. Gryffindor was originally supposed to play Slytherin, understandably, the team had been practicing hard to play good against the Serpent team. All of this changed, since Malfoy is Slytherins seeker, he can't play because of his 'injured' arm, which everyone know is an act. Now, Gryffindor has to play against Hufflepuff, their team having a new addition. Cedric Diggory. Wood had been frustrated, his team not training for this match. 

(Y/n) and Harry were on their way to class, fingers grazing each others lightly as they strolled through the corridors. 

"Harry!" Yelled Wood, running up to Harry ignoring the girl next him. "I need to give you some tips for the upcoming match tomorrow," he said urgently. 

"Wood, is this really a good time-" 

"Harry it'll be quick I swear." The pair stopped walking to listen to what Wood had to say, well for Harry to listen. As he explained Quidditch gibberish (y/n) tuned them out, observing the people and scenes around her. She never realized how many people snogged in the corridors, and she looked away in disgust. Looking out the grand windows that lined the hallway she took note of the weather. It was gloomy, hard rain pounding against the glass as lightning sent white streaks glowing through the gray clouds. These better not be the conditions tomorrow, I don't need another reason to worry about Harry, she thought. She was interrupted by a hand wrapping around hers, and she turned to see Harry, Wood no longer in sight. She looked at the clock and her mouth dropped.

"Harry!" She yelled, the boy jumped slightly, staring at her in fright. "We're ten minutes late!" In urgency, (y/n) ran down the halls, Harry's hand still in hers, as they rushed to Defense Against the Dark Arts. With all students being in class, the only sound in the halls was the laughing and clicking shoes of the smitten best friends. 

They finally arrived, bursting into the classroom. "Sorry we're late Professor Lupin Harry-" (y/n) stopped once she realized it wasn't Lupin teaching, but Professor Snape, a frown growing on her face. 

Snape scowled at the two holding hands, the memory of Dumbledore comparing them to James and Lily reappearing, "This lesson began ten minutes ago, so I think we'll make it... twenty points from Gryffindor. Ten from Potter and ten from the girlfriend." Snape hisses, earning a glare from (y/n) at the use of the label. Harry began to move, but (y/n) stayed still, her hand still in his causing him to come back. 

"Where's Professor Lupin?" (Y/n) asked, not softening her dagger like eyes at Snape. 

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," Snape answered with a twisted smile spreading against his face. "Now I believe I told you two to sit down?" 

The two didn't budge, hands tightly grasped together. "What's wrong with him?" Harry demanded, (y/n) squeezing his hand as a thank you for helping her. 

The professors dark eyes twinkled, "Nothing life-threatening. Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask again it'll be fifty." (Y/n) scoffed as the two headed two their seats. 

"As I was saying before Mr.Potter and Miss (l/n) interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far-" Snape was quickly interrupted by Hermione, who sat stiffly in her seat.

"Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows, and we're just about to start-"

"Be quiet," Snape snapped. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

"She was just trying to help you, no need to be grouchy about it." (Y/n) grumbled, her glare not softening since she had noticed Snape was teaching, to which he responded with a glare of his own. 

"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had." Dean Thomas said boldy, nothing but students muttering in agreement throughout the room. 

"You all are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly over-taxing you. I would expect first-years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss-" The professor paused to flip through the crinkled pages of the text book, only stopping once he had reached the back, something the class surely hadn't covered. "-werewolves," he finished. "Everyone turn to page three hundred and ninety-four," he glanced around at the non-responsive classroom. "All of you! Now!" He bellowed."Which of you could tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the wolf?"he questioned, Hermione's hand shooting into the air with eagerness as he continuously looked past her. "Anyone?" he said, still ignoring the squirming young witch. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..."

"Please, sir," Hermione once again outspoke. Her eagerness getting the best of her, not being able to hold back the fact that she had the right answer, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf-"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all." (Y/n)'s mouth dropped, as she looked over at Hermione whose face was red, as she dragged her hand down and stared at the floor with tears in her eyes. The class, all now glaring at Snape, sat in silence until Ron spoke. 

"You asked us a question and she knew the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?" The class knew Ron had gone too far, as Snape slowly walked In front of Ron's desk with his hands behind his back. "Detention, Weasley." 

"No he's right Snivellus," (y/n) argued, "what is the point of asking a question if you're going to ignore a student that's willing to give you the answer? Was the whole point of that just to have an excuse to belittle us with your snarky comments? If so then you need to sort out your priorities." (y/n) was fuming, Harry intertwining his fingers with hers once more at an attempt to calm her down.

"I see we're feeling rebellious today, are we Miss (l/n)? In that case I'll let you live out your fantasy. Detention." Snape cruelly smiles, as he returns to the front of the classroom, lecturing the rest of class as the students scribble silently in their textbooks until the bell rings. 

"You will need to write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning." The four got up and headed to their next class, wondering why Snape had it out for Lupin. And why was he so persistent on werewolves? (y/n) wondered as she strolled down the hall. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was around four in the morning and (y/n) had barely slept. She was too wide awake thinking about the Quidditch match and Black that she decided to work on her DADA essay instead of wasting her time trying to get any rest. She quietly strolled down the dimly lit corridors, owls echoing from within the castle. She was in a large Gryffindor hoodie and shorts, as she headed to the common room. She couldn't help but laugh at the familiarity of this trip, almost the exact same one she took on the first day of school when Harry followed her to the Astronomy Tower. 

(y/n) finally reaches the common room, thankfully not hearing any noises coming from inside. She softly steps down the concrete steps, trying her best to make minimal noise as she finally reaches the warmly brightened room. She sits down on the soft crimson couch, fire crackling in front of her. (y/n) pulls out parchment and manages to write her name and the date of the essay before giving up with a laugh. She travels to the window, constantly drawn to the moon and stars. She rests her head against the lightly frosted window, observing the sparkling snow and lightly drifting snowflakes, knees curled up to her chest. The cold spreading across her forehead, she lets out a content sigh as she draws patterns on the glass. 

The groggy girl goes to her bag to get her journal. (y/n) feels around for the worn leather, frantically moving her bag around. Frowning, she dumps her bag out as she tosses things around not being able to find her prized possession. What? Where could I have left it?, she thought. Then it hits her, when she was having a breakdown in the lavatory she threw it, but she never picked it back up. She nervously shoves the contents of her bag back in, hoping that when she gets to the lavatory it will be lying on the floor. She had details about her visions in there. She had details about Harry in there.

She pauses, hearing long drawn out footsteps coming down the stairs, her head spinning around, brows furrowed. Her breathe picks up, hoping it's someone she can reason with, when she sees a tired raven-haired boy with round glasses coming down. Relieved, she smiles and looks back into her bag. 

"Hey Har, have you seen my-", as she looks up she notices him, as he's holding a small leather book, with (your initials) engraved on the front. "-my...journal," she slowly finishes. "Harry why do you have my journal?" She asks, curious and a little hurt that he had taken it.

"No, no, no it's not what you're thinking," he puts his hands up defensively, fear in his emerald eyes. "That day you had your vision and came to lunch, you didn't come to any other classes, so I went looking for you, figuring you were in the lavatory with Myrtle, but all I found was this on the floor," he says, slowly walking towards her as he puts the journal in her bag.

(y/n) eyes him suspiciously, "Yeah....I was in the library," she says still a little doubtful, remembering how she was searching for a Seer book. 

"Well, no, weren't you at the Quidditch Pit?" he asks, as his mouth pinches shut and his eyes go wide, (y/n)'s head snapping up to look at him. 

"How did you know about that?" she asks defensively. 

"Uh- I- well you see.. erm-" he sighs, shoulders slowly slumping in defeat, "I saw you," he finally spits out, (y/n)'s cheeks getting hot in embarrassment. She slumps back onto the couch head in her hands as she loudly groans. Harry quickly sits down next to her, rubbing small circles on her back as he too is embarrassed that he let the detail slip. 

"You shouldn't be embarrassed, I mean I really did love how you came to support me. And the fact that you tried coming without me knowing just shows how genuine it was," he assures. The messy haired girl snaps her head up to look in Harry's eyes, with a finger poking his toned chest, inching closer and closer as she speaks. 

Poke

"Did you,"

Poke

"read,"

Poke

"my journal?"

"No of course not!" Harry exclaims, leaning as far as possible against the arm of the couch, the fiery girl inches from his face, her hair cascading around them. 

"You swear, Potter?" Harry was terrified, but he also found it cute when she got mad.

"Yes! Yes! I swear!" He answers, breathing heavy at the interrogation.

(y/n)'s face stays serious for a bit longer, her mouth pinched in a line, before it slowly creeps into a smile, and she bursts into laughter.

"Oh my Godric Harry, you should've seen your face! I've never seen you so terrified and we've fought Basilisks!" Harry joins in relieved that she isn't angry at him, the (h/c) haired girl burying her face in his chest, attempting to muffle her uncontrollable giggles. Once she stops laughing, Harry still having his back on the arm of the couch basically laying down, the girl turns her head to rest her cheek on his chest. He hesitates for a moment, before wrapping his arms around her, the both of them staring into the fire. 

(y/n) smiles as she notices how fast his heart is beating. 

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Please tell me you'll always be there for me. I don't think I can take another person I care about leaving." Harry's heart shatters at her words, the fact that she even has to ask him the question making him wonder if she knows just how much he cares for her.

"Always," he responds, a smile on his face at the feeling of her in his arms and how perfectly she fits, both of their eyes getting heavy, as they drift off to sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next morning, (y/n) and Harry were giddy from last nights occurrence, but they both had important tasks they needed to complete. Harry had to focus on the important Quidditch game that night, and (y/n) had to go talk to Dumbledore about her current (maybe) ability. She nervously glides down the hall, taking her time to make it to the Headmasters office. Eventually, the anxious girl makes her way up the moving, stone, circular staircase that leads to the Headmasters Tower entrance. Standing in front of the Gargoyle Corridor, she takes a deep breath, ready to finally receive answers that she trusts no one else to give her. The young witch leans in and whispers, Lemon Drop, to the stone Gargoyle which in turn, shifts aside for her to enter. She goes down a few stairs to see the wise man sitting at his large desk, his white beard being twirled in concentration when he looks up to see (y/n).

"Professor Dumbledore, sir?" She asks shyly, hoping she's not taking him from something probably more important than her dilemma. 

"Ah (y/n) come in, come in. I've been expecting you," he smiles, gesturing for the Gryffindor to sit down in front of him. 

"You- you have?" saying she was shocked would be an overstatement, Dumbledore know everything, and she wouldn't be surprised if he said he had predicted she would come.

"So, what brings you here Miss (l/n)?" The Headmaster sets down his glasses, staring intently at the nervous looking teenager.

"Right. Um, I really don't know how to say this, but I guess I'll start with asking....what do you know about Seers?" Dumbledores face turned shocked at the intensity of the girls question.

"Seers? Well, I know quite a bit about Seers. What would you like to know?"

"I guess I can start with how you know if you're a Seer or not," she states, hoping she's asking all the right things, not wanting to mess this up. 

"Well lets see, Seers predict prophecies, which are then recorded and stored in the Hall of Prophecy in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries. Although Seers are truly rare, there can be a few symptoms. Most don't confirm they're seers until something they've seen comes true. Often they will get Deja Vu a lot, have dreams that come true, be in a trance where they see a detailed vision, and rarely a Seer will touch an object or see something that will trigger a premonition about that certain person, event, or object. It varies from person to person of course," the professor finishes, a proud smile on his face about all of the knowledge he has. 

(y/n) gulps, most of those things she's experienced, more specifically, the trance that turned into a vision. Now that she thinks of it, she did have a dream about a glowing red stone before first year and another about being eaten by a snake before second year. Was that just a coincidence? All she can do to confirm, is to see if she gets any more visions, or if the possible one she's had comes true.

"Oh, I see," she says, Dumbledore looking at her with concern, "now if you are a Seer. Can you warn people about things you see in your visions?" 

"Ah, that's where it gets tricky. Now people are sometimes told their prophecy by the Ministry and it falls into place, but some things are best left alone for that one event could have been the trigger for another event in the future. If someone is a Seer, often times they can choose whether or not that information is necessary to relay to someone." Dumbledore's eyes sparkle, excited to find out the urgency of the girls needed information. 

"Oh," she stammers not knowing what to do now that the next step is just a quick decision on her part, "thank you professor, for taking time out of your..busy day to help me. I should get going then," she smiles as she gets up, Dumbledore gently grabbing her wrist.

"Miss (l/n), is there something you would like to tell me?" he asks calmly, knowing what she would be telling him, but seeing if the child had the intention of letting him know.

She kindly smiles back shaking her head, "No professor, just had a few questions. I've just been curious ever since we had to take Divinations."

"Hmm alright. Very well then, be on your way. Have a good day, (y/n)."

"Bye professor," she waves as she makes her way out of the office, finally able to breathe again. Oh my Godric, she thinks, do I tell them what's going to happen? Like Dumbledore said, it's my choice what information I feel it's important for them to know. For now I need to just think on it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The weather outside still hadn't gotten any better, making (y/n)'s stomach queasy that they hadn't cancelled the Quidditch match. She takes a seat next to Lee, the announcer, as she observes the intensity of the storm that's brewing above the Quidditch Pit. Harry had told her about how unprepared they were going to be for this considering the switch of teams, but she didn't know they would have to battle a storm on top of it. 

Yeah sure, don't let the boy go to Hogsmeade because his aunt and uncle are abusive, but him riding on a broomstick at least 100 feet in the air with balls and people flying at him with the threat of a thunderstorm? No problem. 

She was angry at the danger he was being put in, but the only thing she could do was be there to support him. The wind was blowing hard, her hair whipping against her skin causing it to sting, her once warm gloves and scarf being soaked from the cold winter rain drops soaking into them. She shivered, but not just because of the cold, the idea of Harry being injured. He'll be fine, she assured herself, it's Harry the boy who's somehow invincible it seems.  

The match began, brooms flying against the rain, the spectators barely being able to see what was going on through the heavy downpour. 

"Go Harry!" Hermione yelled, "Come on Harry you got it!" causing (y/n) to giggle at the passion the bushy haired girl put into cheering on their best friend. "Go Harry!!" she yells, joining Hermione. 

The match was going relatively smooth, much to (y/n)'s relief, until things started to unravel. Lightning struck a student's broom, lighting it on fire.

"Oh! Looks like a Gryffindor player has been struck by lighting that set their broom on fire! Oh no they're going down, someone please go assist them!" Lee announces, as surely, the student goes down screaming right past Harry, who looks around worriedly at the high pitched noise.

"The two Seekers go after the golden snitch! Uh oh, looks like they're going straight in to the storm! Stay calm everyone, they'll come back down."  

(y/n) holds her breath as Harry and the other Seeker fly out of the Quidditch Pit and into the rumbling sky, no longer in sight from the thickness of the clouds. "Come on Harry," (y/n) whispers as she nervously plays with her hair, "you got this." The crowd, especially the professors, looking after them, holding their breath until someone emerges from the clouds ok. (y/n) stares at the sky, barely blinking, her anxiety getting worse after each flash of white within the clouds. She counts, time feelings like it's paused. 

Seconds feel like Minutes

Minutes feel like hours 

Someone is seen coming out of the clouds, but it wasn't Harry and (y/n) sighs out of distress her eyes slightly burning at the faint presence of  tears forming. It was the other Seeker, his hair black at the ends and spread out like Hermione's in first year, spinning in the air on his broom. (y/n) assumed he got struck by lightning, but she soon forgets about him realizing Harry is still up there, up there for too long. 

All of a sudden she recognizes his crimson uniform flying out of the clouds, but she can't see the outline of his broom. Her hands fly to her mouth as everyone gasps, the boy spinning clumsily through the air with no broom. 

"Harry!," she cries out, "No, no!" Hermione hugs her, telling her it was all going to be ok, but the frantic Gryffindor can't hear her, the world is dizzy as she feels herself hyperventilating. She shakily fumbles for her wand, weakly holding it up trying to think of any spell at all that might save the boy she cares so deeply for, but her mind goes blank and her hands get weak causing her to drop her wand, as she stumbles into Hermione for stability. Ron and Hermione on either side of her trying to calm her down, she hears Dumbledore mumble, "Alesto Momento," with only a raise of him hand. 

(y/n) sits beside Harry, tightly holding his hand, she had been in the same exact position since she had been able to see him. Everyone around her had been whispering about how beat up he look, scolding each other at how of course he looks bad it was a bad fall. 

"Lucky the ground was soft."

"I thought he was dead for sure."

"But he didn't break his glasses."

(y/n) tuned these out, her only thought being if the boy who lived..well lived. Harry starts opening his eyes, seeing everyone hovering above him, wondering whispers about how he's still alive. His first thought however, was (y/n) and he frantically looks around, until he notices the tear stained girl grasping his hand, her forehead against his arm, shoulders shaking from her silent sobs. He ignores the people bombarding him with questions, as he leans over, kissing the shaken up girls head lightly, just enough so that she knows that he's awake. She glances up hand covering her mouth. 

"Harry, oh are you ok? How are you feeing? Do you need the nurse?", she frantically asks, the beat up Seeker smiling at the genuine concern this girl has for him. 

"Hey, I'm fine. See? Barely a scratch just a bit sore," he says with a smile, knowing that was a lie, but wanting to put on a brave face for her peace of mind. She lets go of the breath she was holding in relief, as a content smile spreads across her rosy cheeks and sparkling nose. He wipes a stray tear from her face with a smile, as he turns his attention to the rest of the group, not letting go of her hand.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asks, eyes filled with worry. 

"Oh, brilliant," Harry replies sarcastically. 

"You gave us a right good scare there, mate," says Fred, taking a seat next to (y/n) putting a comforting hand on her shoulder while he talks to Harry. 

"What happened?," Harry wonders.

"Well, you fell off your broom," Ron informs Harry. 

"Really?," Harry says, yet again, sarcastically, "I meant the match, who won?" 

The group glances around uncomfortably, Hermione being the one to break the news to him. "Um, no one blames you Harry. The Dementors aren't supposed to come inside the grounds, Dumbledore was furious. As soon as he saved you he sent them straight off." Harry looks defeated, as he's picking up the answer they are probably going to give him. 

"There's uh, something else you should know too Harry," Ron says nervously, as he holds a plaid blanket, "when you fell, your broom it sort of...blew into the Whomping Willow and well." Ron unravels the blanket to reveal Harry's broom, smashed into bits and pieces of splintered wood.

(y/n) felt terrible for Harry, that broom had been one of the best gifts he'd ever gotten and she could see on his face that his insides were churning.

"I'm sorry Harry," she says, as he looks at her with sadness taking over his forest green eyes. 

"It's...it's alright," he whispers, not very convinced that it was alright. (y/n) was going to wait if she did have to tell them about the vision, she wanted Harry to focus on his recovery before she sprung it on him.

All the lost girl knew is this incident was a result of the Dementors. And Gravity's Betrayal. 

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a/n: Hellooo everyone, hope you enjoyed this chapter. I was sad to have to end it, I had more ideas that I'm going to have to just put in the next chapter, otherwise this would have been painfully long.

Let me know your thoughts or favorite part :) Until next time ~i

Mrs. Potter Squad

#BEMSUPREMACY