Slowly, you tiptoe out of bed, not wanting to wake the monsters in the bunk next to yours, it would only make them hate you more. You've got accustomed to the fact that no one likes you, that you're a know-it-all, big-headed git. That you could never make friends, no matter how many advanced spells you master. You tap your head, and like an egg, the spell surrounds you. Slowly you stroll through the portrait hole, and into the dark hallways. You don't dare light your wand, but you know your way by heart, you come here every night.
The library, one of your favorite places in the world. People are nice here. A fellow Gryffindor, Hermione, sometimes even helps you, but she is in 3rd year. Slowly you scan the shelves, and a book catches your eye. It has an obsidian black cover, with silver writing.
"Defense Spells: A Guide Against Foul Creatures" you whisper. You grab the book, and hurry to an empty classroom to practice. You open the book, and flip to the back. Page 536, you read, how dispel Dementors. You scan the page.
"A happy memory." You murmur. You think hard, back before Hogwarts, maybe a birthday? No, you decide, not good enough, you never liked birthdays. You think of your letter to Hogwarts. You were ecstatic, but, although you love learning magic, your life here would ruin it. You decide on a day, years ago, when Mum was still alive. You were at a picnic by a stream, just you and your parents. Back when Dad was still there, not just an empty shell. Already the memory fills you with warmth. You ready your wand.
"Expecto patronum" you hiss, as loudly as you can dare. A burst of silver light spews out of your wand, but it's naught but a wispy whirlwind of light. You try again, but produce the same form. You practice till midnight, but decide to call it a night. Never have you been so exhausted.
You can hardly focus that day, for you want to try the charm again. Plus, you know everything they are teaching today anyways.
You skip dinner, heading straight to an empty classroom. You figure you can raid the kitchens later anyways, you badgered Fred and George into telling you, and they were happy to oblige. You take out you wand, and the book. You prepare yourself, and take a deep breath, and you are confident you will get it this time.
You don't. You stomp your foot in frustration, and try again. By the time you have to get back to the dormitory, you are irate, famished, and exhausted. You don't talk to anyone, just stomp up to your dormitory, and pretend to sleep.
This time, when you leave, you stop by the kitchens first, and chat with the house elves while you eat. By the time you are done, you feel better. Once you reach the classroom, you try again. By midnight, you can still produce nothing but a silvery fog. A part of you argues that it's really good for a first year, but that's not good enough for you. You want to do this more than anything. You know that spells don't make up for people, but they're all you have. A sad reminder of all you used to have. Angrily you try again.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" You shout, but again, produce only mist. You grab the book, and read again. However, by the second paragraph, you manage to relax. You recall the picnic again, and let the warmth of that moment overwhelm you. You recall your mothers silvery laugh, and your father tickles you. You remember your giggle. You can recall everything from the moment, the smell of spring, the gurgle of the creek, the taste of the apple pie your mum made. You think of the spell, and before you even say it, something bursts out of your wand. It is silver, but different this time, taking form, and you find yourself looking at a lion. You gaze in wonder, unsure of how this regal character could come from you. You stare into his eyes, however, and see yourself. You smile, and hold out your hand, and the lion nuzzles it. When you touch it, you feel happy. You hear a noise behind you. You spin around, and see a boy. You recognize him from your year, a Ravenclaw. You narrow your eyes, and your lion steps in front of you. The boy raises his hands in surrender, and smiles, which you don't return.
He says "I've been watching you, and trying to learn it myself, You've helped, thanks." You hesitate, this boy sounds nice, but you are still weary. He extends his hand, and you shake it. Slowly your lion dissolves, and you feel drained, but content, like it is still there.
"What's your name?" You ask. He replies immediately.
"Pieter. Yours?"
"Erien." You smile hesitantly, but get interrupted by a yawn. You glance outside, and see the first rays of dawn. You see Pieter yawn too, and you both head to your common rooms.
During potions, that day, you are grouped with the Ravenclaws. For once, you have someone to share a smile with, and you love it. At lunch, you sit by yourself, as usual, but Pieter plops his stuff down at the table, and sits next to you. You are secretly overjoyed, and you know that you have gained a true patronus that day.