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Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. He didn't argue or complain, but he wouldn't let her throw away the shattered remnants of his Nimbus Two Thousand. He knew he was being stupid, knew that the Nimbus was beyond repair, but Harry couldn't help it; he felt as though he'd lost one of his best friends.

By the feeble light of his formless Patronus, he saw a Dementor halt, very close to him. It couldn't walk through the cloud of silver mist Harry had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronus aside.

He thought for a moment of telling Lupin about the dog he'd seen in Magnolia Crescent but decided not to. He didn't want Lupin to think he was a coward, especially since Lupin already seemed to think he couldn't cope with a Boggart.

¡°Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter,¡± said Lupin, nodding. ¡°I believed it myself ¡ª until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies¡­Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry.¡±

¡°He'll live,¡± said Madam Pomfrey grimly. ¡°As for you two, you'll be staying here until I'm satisfied you're ¡ª Potter, what do you think you're doing?¡±


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