The Hogwarts Society of Magical Creatures, aka HSMC or Remedial Potions, was helping temper his nastier dementor instincts though. Something about being an alpha predator didn't do positive things for his anger issues. Knowing he wasn't the only one struggling was more of a help than any meditation or calming strategy though.
He had looked up all the magical creatures he had been told about in the club, especially vampires (know your enemy and all). DADA had focused on werewolves, so it was the first time Harry had really looked into vampires. It seemed vampirism wasn't a really big deal, unlike in the movies Dudley liked to watch. They couldn't handle direct sunlight for extreme periods of time, had enhanced senses and strength, were much more inclined to mind magic, but they weren't immortal and could be killed, though not by garlic. They could also eat normal food even if they needed blood to survive.
Aceline and Matthew (the seventh year stressing over finding his mate) were both veela, but he actually knew quite a bit about veela from meeting and talking to Fleur the year before. Druids were more inclined to ritual magic and had longer lifespans than a normal wizard. High elves were gifted in all earth magic. And fairies were connected to magic itself as Luna had already explained. He didn't know what anyone else was though (besides the half-werewolves), and he really had been trying to figure out what the hell Malfoy could be. Harry's first instinct was veela with Malfoy's white-blond hair, but Neville didn't have the same reactions to Aceline or Matthew that he did to Malfoy. He also hadn't seen Malfoy do anything out of the ordinary besides be nice to people. Montague was another mystery. After seeing the chaser in Remedial Potions, Harry was certain that whatever he was had significantly increased strength since he picked up the couch with two third years sitting on it one day. Thinking back on all the fouls in quidditch, Montague wasn't using any of that strength on the pitch though, as dirty as he played, he was holding back a lot.
Harry was pondering over what the other members of the club could be as he stowed his bookbag in the dorm on a Thursday in early October. He was about to head down to the club meeting which Neville had already left for. Harry was dragging his feet because he was expecting a letter back from Sirius at any time, and he was hoping Hedwig would make it back soon. He missed his feathery, midnight buddy. Just as he gave up, a ball of red and white feathers fell through the open window of the tower. "Hedwig!" Harry yelled out in frantic dread. "No, no, no!"
He rushed over, taking in the red blood staining the pure white of his friend's feathers. She gave him an exhausted hoot and seemed to pull into herself more. Automatically, Harry pulled the letter off her leg and shoved it in his pocket before grabbing a discarded towel to wrap gently around her. "Stay with me, Hedwig. I'm going to get you help," Harry sobbed out, staving off panic to try to think clearly. He couldn't handle anything happening to his first and best friend. Who could he go to for help? Professor Grubbly-Plank seemed to be the obvious choice, but he didn't know her and didn't trust her. Plus, he didn't know where she would be on a Thursday evening or even if she lived in the castle, not all the professors did. He couldn't chance having to search over the entire castle looking for her, and even looking over the Marauder's Map would eat up precious time.
Harry took a deep breath; someone in HSMC would be able to help, he decided. Between all the magical creatures there, one of them would have some connection to healing magic. If not, Professor Snape might have a potion. Needing to go quickly, Harry for the first time wrapped his shadow magic around Jamie, surprised it actually worked in his Harry-suit. He rushed out of the tower and ran all the way to the dungeons and the meeting room of the secret society.
"Help!" Harry called out through tears as he rushed into the room, visible once again. "It's Hedwig; She's injured! Please can one of you help?"
Everyone seemed to already be in the room and chatting, working on homework, or playing games. They all looked up in surprise when the distraught teen rushed in carrying a bloody bundle in his arms. "Put her here, Harry," Neville motioned to the low table in front of him as he jumped up and took charge.
"David, help him," Snape instructed from where he was sitting in his normal armchair.
A sixth-year Hufflepuff rushed over to join Neville as the elf slowly unwrapped the towel. "Oh, Hedwig," Neville sighed. He really liked Harry's owl and fed her bacon most mornings when she visited their table in the Great Hall.
"Nev, if you can stabilize her, I can heal her," David, the Hufflepuff instructed as he ran a finger over Hedwig's feathers, causing her to hoot softly. "The injuries aren't deep."
"I'm on it," Neville said as he closed his eyes and placed a pale green hand over Hedwig's head.
"Harry," David took a hold of the dementor's shoulder comfortingly and turned forest green eyes on him. "I'm a Drus or a male Dryad. That means my magic is connected to nature and those who call forests home, like Hedwig. May I heal your owl?"
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