"James you must concentrate!"

James Potter nodded at the older man's exclamation, his head bopping up and down absently. James had a determined look about him, jaw set. He could do this. He would do this. His wand twiddled back and forth in his fingers as he stared down the chest in the corner of the room.

His professor sighed, looking at his pupil's steely expression. Patting his head nervously, the professor said, "Give it another go, then,"

Another jerky nod. James wiped his sweaty palms along the length of his robes, licking his lips as he readied himself. With his heart seemingly stopping in his chest, James watched as the balding man waved his wand, opening the chest that contained a Boggart. In this case, the Boggart took the shape of a Dementor. Terrifyingly dark with a lumbering presence, the Dementor stared at James for a moment. Was he sniffing out the possible subjects or laughing in the depths of its mind, remembering just how poor the skinny boy in front of him was at producing a Patronus charm?

He had no time to guess an answer. Time was ticking. His blood was rushing. Ticking, ticking, ticking, counting down…Towards his death or victory, James didn't know.

Raising his hand, James tried the spell. "Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing. Not even a wisp of the white he was supposed to be seeing. Perfect.

The Dementor neared closer. James's teacher was looking at him nervously.

"Expecto Patronum!" the memory of his mum handing him his Hogwarts wasn't enough, he knew. Nothing was happening. Something was supposed to be happening, but nothing was. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated harder on the feel of the parchment underneath his fingers. The way the green ink spilled across the page…He was meant for Hogwarts. Why wasn't this working?
"Ex—Expecto—"

He wasn't a bright faced first year anymore. Dread. He felt dread. The Dementor reached out for him, its fingers groping for his chin. This was it. He was going to die. What a memorable death this would be, too. Now everybody would know just how big of a pansy James Potter was when it came to the blasted Dementors.

"Expecto Patronum!"

James collapsed to the ground as the Dementor disappeared with a pop. It had retreated back to the chest. James had been through this before.

Looking up, he saw his professor standing over him with his wand out. He was frowning at James, bushy eyebrows pulled over his eyes.

"Save it," James coughed, stumbling to his feet. "It wasn't a good enough memory, I know. And I don't want any chocolate."

The professor shoved the chocolate back into his robes, his frown seemingly set on his face permanently, inking into his features. The professor knew if he didn't help the boy, he'd find a way to do it himself. And that wouldn't be helpful for either of them if he died because of a Boggart.

"Just think of something happier, James," he said finally. "What makes you smile? Think."

A pair of green eyes. Long red hair.

"Just my fellow Gryffindors, Professor."

"Then think about them, James! Stop lolly-gagging with these other memories and think of your house. Gryffindor pride and all, eh?"

James nodded. This made sense. Closing his eyes, he thought of Lily. Not too long ago, she had been talking with Sirius at breakfast about Penny Hartland, Peter listening in rather intently. Remus tried to steer the conversation back to Dorcas Meadowes, but with no avail. He, James, had called him out on it, and for some unknown reason, Lily started laughing. Orange juice sprayed from her nose, and that just set her off more. One look at Remus' shocked expression was enough to make anyone laugh, and soon, everyone was.

Except James.

Oh, he was smiling. He wasn't laughing, though. He was looking at Lily. Looking at how well she got along with Peter and Sirius and Remus. Looking and wondering why the bloody hell she didn't like him. Wondering if he should give up hope on her.

And then she met his gaze. And smiled. And blushed.

And James knew he could never give up hope. Not when the girl of his dreams was sitting across from him, discreetly wiping orange juice from her face. She was perfect, and he wouldn't ever stop falling for her every day.

"I'm ready," James said, his voice cracking slightly.

And then the chest opened.

He felt different this time. Empowered. So when he raised his wand, his hand didn't shake. His fingers didn't feel numb. James Potter was ready, and this son of a bitch was going down.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A wisp of white snaked from his wand. Lily's face exploded in his mind.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A little more. Just one more push…

Sirius . Remus. Peter. His friends. Without them, he'd be nothing.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

An incredible figure erupted from the wand. He had to clamp his other hand around the wand to keep it steady. The figure charged up to the Dementor, knocking it down with its—antlers? Making another popping sound, the Dementor vanished, leaving the Patronus in its wake.

It was a stag.

The irony of the situation was hysterical. James should've seen it coming.

When the animal shimmered into nothingness, James whirled around to see his professor staring at him in shock, hands posed at his robes as if ready to reach for his wand—or the chocolate, James wasn't sure.

"How incredible," he muttered, staring at James with sudden interest. "Don't lose that memory, now, James. Whatever it was…it must be a good one."

Amazingly, James was smiling. His lips hurt from the gesture. He had done it. He had produced a textbook version of the Patronus, and his heart was thwacking painfully in his chest. Gasping for breath, he managed to reply.

"Don't worry, sir. I won't be forgetting that memory for as long as I live."