"This is extremely dangerous, child. Since Professor Lupin was right there with you, you shouldn't keep walking straight into trouble—"
Professor McGonagall's voice was sharp as she spoke to Sean. Harry actually shrank down in his seat.
"But all the same, you handled it very well, child."
McGonagall stepped closer and gently kissed Sean on the forehead.
Harry felt like he was floating somewhere above the room, watching something he couldn't quite believe. He started wondering if this was really Professor McGonagall or if some impostor had taken her place.
Sean froze too. He saw the flood of worry and relief in her eyes.
He glanced down at his own robes—the elegant silver-trimmed fabric she had taken him shopping for. All this time the professor had been careful and restrained, playing her role perfectly. Sometimes they all forgot this was the first time she had become such an important part of any young wizard's family.
She always held herself back, testing the boundaries, but feelings weren't something you could always measure.
"I'll be careful," Sean said quietly.
"That's enough," McGonagall said with a small smile. She turned to Harry, who still looked stunned.
"Professor Lupin also mentioned you weren't feeling well on the train, Potter."
"Oh… I… uh…"
Facing McGonagall's stern expression again, Harry couldn't get a full sentence out.
A knock sounded at the door, and Madam Pomfrey hurried in.
"Where's Potter? Is he all right?"
She asked anxiously.
Harry snapped back to reality and felt his face go hot.
What had he just seen?
It mattered, but he had bigger problems right now.
He had apparently fainted on the train.
Whether he had passed out or whatever else had happened, it was already bad enough. Seeing McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey making such a fuss only made him more embarrassed.
"I'm fine," he said.
"I don't need anything—"
"Oh, Potter!"
Madam Pomfrey acted like she hadn't heard him. She leaned in and examined him closely.
"I suppose you were off doing something dangerous again?"
"It was Dementors, Poppy," McGonagall said.
They exchanged a grave look. Madam Pomfrey clucked like a worried mother hen.
"Sending Dementors to patrol around the school," she muttered, brushing Harry's hair back and feeling his forehead.
"He won't be the last one to faint.
Yes, he's cold and clammy. They're dreadful creatures. The effect they have on people who are already vulnerable—"
"I'm not vulnerable!" Harry snapped.
"Of course you're not," Madam Pomfrey said absently, checking his pulse.
"What does he need?" McGonagall asked briskly.
"Bed rest? Should he spend the night in the hospital wing?"
"I'm fine!" Harry said, standing up.
The thought of Draco Malfoy hearing he'd been hospitalized was unbearable.
"Well, at the very least he should have some chocolate," Madam Pomfrey said, now peering into his eyes.
"I already had some," Harry said.
"Professor Lupin gave it to all of us. And Sean—he gave me his pumpkin pie."
"Green, you're here too?
Very good—you're always so reliable," Madam Pomfrey said approvingly.
"Even better, we finally have a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows the proper remedy."
"Do you really feel all right, Potter?" McGonagall asked sternly.
"Yes," Harry said.
"Good. Wait outside for a moment. I need to speak with Mr. Green, then we'll all go down to the feast together."
The door closed behind Harry.
Sean met McGonagall's stern yet gentle gaze.
"He's working as manager at your bookstore?" she asked.
"Yes, Professor," Sean said.
"Lupin is certainly a capable wizard, but you'd do well to keep your distance from him," McGonagall said thoughtfully.
Sean never asked why. He simply nodded.
"Go enjoy the feast, child."
McGonagall always appreciated that about him.
The Great Hall was a sea of pointed black hats. Every long house table was packed, faces glowing in the light of thousands of floating candles.
Professor Flitwick, a tiny white-haired wizard, carried an old-fashioned hat and a three-legged stool out of the Hall.
"Oh," Harry whispered to Sean as they returned to their seats, "we missed the Sorting Ceremony."
"What happened?" Justin popped up out of nowhere once they sat down.
They were at the Ravenclaw table, after all.
"Yeah," Hermione appeared too.
They looked curious, but before Sean could explain, Headmaster Dumbledore stood up.
"Welcome!" Dumbledore said, his beard sparkling in the candlelight.
"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, one of which is very important, so I think it best to get it out of the way before you enjoy your delicious feast and your minds turn to mush…"
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued:
"Our school is currently hosting several Dementors from Azkaban. They are here on Ministry business, as I'm sure you all know by now, since they searched the Hogwarts Express."
He paused.
Sean knew Dumbledore had never wanted the Ministry to station Dementors around the school.
But the Headmaster always followed Ministry rules—though in truth, he could have refused.
Sometimes Sean thought it was because Dumbledore trusted himself to handle the consequences.
For the students, though, it wasn't exactly good news.
"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore went on.
"I must make this perfectly clear: while they are here, no one is to leave the school without permission. No tricks, no disguises, not even an Invisibility Cloak will fool a Dementor."
He added lightly,
"Dementors do not understand excuses or pleas for mercy. So I warn you all: do not give them any reason to harm you.
I hope our prefects and our newly elected Head Boy and Head Girl will make sure no student comes into conflict with a Dementor."
Dumbledore paused again, looking very serious as he scanned the Hall. No one moved or made a sound.
"On a happier note," he continued,
"I am delighted to welcome three new teachers to our staff this term.
First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly agreed to fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts post."
A few scattered, unenthusiastic claps echoed around the Hall.
Only the students who had shared a compartment with Professor Lupin clapped harder. Sean saw Justin practically applauding his hands off.
"As for our second new teacher," Dumbledore said once the polite applause for Lupin died down,
"Oh yes—let him come forward… So, Mr. Green, our dear Potions assistant, I'm afraid you won't be sitting in the student section today…"
Dumbledore winked playfully.
Sean hadn't expected the announcement. In the sudden silence, he stood and walked toward the staff table.
As he moved, the Hall went from quiet to roaring.
Ravenclaws went wild. Hufflepuffs weren't far behind. The applause from both tables nearly lifted the roof off the castle.
At the Gryffindor table, Fred and George looked like they were about to stand up and cheer. Fred winked at George. Even a few Slytherins clapped—though they tried to look dignified about it.
"Oh, very good indeed," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "Mr. Green's abilities are well known to all of us. Both Professor Snape and I trust he will excel in this role.
It may not be the most glamorous position, but of course every great thing starts somewhere small."
Dumbledore smiled as the young wizard approached the two empty seats at the staff table.
The first was next to Professor Lupin, who was watching him with open anticipation.
The second was beside Professor Snape—who was currently glaring daggers at Lupin.