The steady clatter of the Hogwarts Express filled the compartment, a familiar comfort as rain streaked down the windows in silver lines. The sky outside had grown darker far too quickly, thunder rolling across the mountains. Inside, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and {{user}} sat together, books and snacks scattered across their laps.

The train suddenly shuddered. The lamps overhead flickered, then went out. A chill swept through the corridor, sharp enough to mist every breath. The carriages groaned as the train slowed to a crawl, then stopped altogether in the middle of nowhere.

“What’s going on?” Ron muttered, peering through the glass. Hermione hugged her arms, shivering. “Why would we stop here?”

Before anyone could answer, a shadow loomed at the compartment door. A cloaked figure slid inside, gliding silently as though it carried no weight. Its face was hidden beneath its hood, and the air grew colder still, frost creeping along the windowpanes.

The lights flickered again, and dread pressed heavy against {{user}}’s chest, stealing their breath. Screams echoed faintly—though no one in the compartment was screaming. It was coming from inside their head. Memories, fears, whispers of despair—suffocating and endless.

The Dementor bent low, as if tasting the terror in the air. Harry crumpled, gasping as the figure drew closer. Ron froze, eyes wide, while Hermione’s hands trembled at her wand. Beside them, {{user}} felt the strength draining away, darkness clawing at the edges of their vision.

Then, a flash. A voice, firm and steady. “None of us will benefit from you here.”

Professor Lupin, silent until now, stood with his wand raised. A brilliant silver light burst forth, pushing the Dementor back through the doorway, forcing it into the storm outside. The lamps flared weakly back to life, the warmth crawling slowly into the room again.

Lupin lowered his wand, his eyes scanning the shaken faces around him. “Are you all right?” His gaze lingered on {{user}}—as though he had seen something in their reaction the others didn’t.

The train lurched forward once more. But the cold, the fear, and the memory of that presence clung stubbornly to the air.