'Harry? Harry, wake up ...'
It was Professor Lupin's soft voice that stirred him. Eyes opening, Harry realised where he was: lying flat on his back on the floor of the History of Magic classroom. A draught was blowing in from under the door, causing him to shiver. Slowly, he raised his head. Professor Lupin's concerned face swam into view.
'You were unconscious for longer than before,' said Lupin, as he helped Harry to his feet and handed him a large piece of chocolate. 'Perhaps that's enough for tonight ...'
'No!' said Harry quickly; quitting after only twenty minutes was unthinkable, especially when he was so close. 'Please, just one more go ...'
Lupin studied him, finally nodding. 'All right, but only one. Again, get your wand ready - good - focus on your happy memory ... keep it in your mind ... remembering the incantation: Expecto Patronum ... Are you ready?'
Harry nodded, throat dry as he watched the packing case containing the Boggart. Any minute now ...
And, with a flick of his wand, Lupin opened the box.
It was as if everything he'd learnt in the previous lessons had seeped out of Harry's head, even after Lupin's refresher. He raised his wand as the Dementor rushed towards him, but no words came to his lips. The urgent voice of his father, familiar after all these lessons, echoed in his head, and he found himself straining to listen ...
'Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -'
There was something he was supposed to do, but it didn't seem important anymore. The icy mist filled his body, found its way to his heart, chilled his very soul as more voices called his name -
'Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!'
'Stand aside, you silly girl ... stand aside, now ...'
'Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead -'
'This is my last warning -'
'Not Harry! Please ... have mercy ... have mercy ...'
He was overwhelmed with a sense of peace and resignation, at odds with the frantic screaming he was hearing. It was easy, very easy, to simply stop resisting. After all, he was safe here. No one could harm him now.
'Harry, wake up ... come on ...'
The familiar, gentle voice, dragging him away from his strange, blissful oblivion, was like knives on skin, fingernails on a blackboard. He did not want to get up. He didn't even want to move. He was quite content to stay here, clinging on to fading memories as long as he could, sinking back into the blackness ...
'Harry?' Lupin sounded slightly alarmed now. Dimly, Harry felt his head and shoulders lifted so that he was no longer shivering on the cold stone floor. For a minute, there was nothing to be heard except the sound of his ragged breathing.
'Rennervate!' said the same gentle voice, and the dream ended. Harry's eyes popped open. The lined face of Professor Lupin was above him.
This rush into reality brought Harry back to earth with a crash. Instantly, his stomach contracted and he lurched up and away from Lupin, dry-heaving as tears sprang to his eyes. He hadn't eaten anything for dinner, having had no appetite, so there was nothing to come up. He sensed a spell being cast on him, and his stomach calmed.
'I'm sorry,' he whispered, still shaking, unable to sit up. 'What was that? What did you do?'
'A charm to reduce nausea,' said Lupin. He was now checking Harry's pulse. 'Don't blame yourself, Harry. If anyone's at fault, it's me. I was already worried ... I should have ended the lesson before things got worse.' He was peering at Harry, his face filled with concern. 'Are you feeling all right? Do you need me to get Madam Pomfrey?'
Harry shook his head, throat tight. His head swam and he shut his eyes, willing it away.
Lupin's soothing voice pierced his bubble. 'Come on, Harry. Deep breaths.' A large piece of chocolate was pressed into his hand, and he flinched. 'It's just chocolate ... I haven't poisoned it, you know ...'
Slowly, Harry raised the chocolate to his mouth and took a bite. The tingling sensation of warmth spread all throughout his body. He opened his eyes to see Lupin's face, which was drawn and worried, but looked relieved.
'Do you want to talk about it?'
Like a nightmare recalled before going to sleep, the memory of what had just happened flew into his mind, unwanted and shocking, and he recoiled. The world spun. By the time it gradually stilled, he was lying on the floor again, staring up at the ceiling.
'Harry, what's the matter? What went wrong?'
He rolled over onto his front and pressed his face into his hands. Tears leaked from behind his eyes, but he would do anything to stop Lupin seeing them. There was a calming touch on his shoulder, but he didn't raise his head.
'Harry, please look at me.' Lupin's voice was kind but commanding, and Harry was obliged to turn and sit up, rubbing his face on his sleeve in what he hoped was a casual gesture.
'You don't understand,' he choked out, struggling to keep his voice from shaking. 'I started off fine, I knew exactly what to do and I really felt like I could do it, and then I heard them, and it was like I didn't care anymore, like I only wanted to listen as long as I could. I don't know what's happening - it's like I want to get my soul sucked out or ... or ...'
'It's not unreasonable to want to hold on to your parents' voices,' said Lupin carefully, his eyes meeting Harry's own. 'But you must make sure that you don't lose your focus, or it could be very dangerous.' He paused and surveyed Harry for a moment. 'Would you prefer it if we stopped these lessons?'
'No!' said Harry. 'I mean, I know they're dead, and that listening to their last words won't make them come back, but ...'
The words came out before he could stop them.
'... I just wish I could have known them,' he whispered. He remembered that Lupin had been friends with James and Lily Potter, but somehow it did not seem appropriate to ask for stories of a time gone past and lives cruelly cut short. Instead, he took a deep breath, put his childhood longings in his pocket and said, 'I came to learn how to defend myself from Dementors, Professor. I can't afford to get distracted if - if I want to win the Quidditch Cup.' He clambered unsteadily to his feet and made to leave. 'Same time next week, Professor?'
'Wait a minute, Harry,' said Lupin, apparently noticing how down Harry looked. He took a small piece of chocolate out of his robes and, to Harry's surprise, popped it in his own mouth. 'It will be impossible for you to successfully cast a Patronus if you're constantly losing yourself in memories. You do show promise, but I must again remind you that this is a very difficult spell. Many grown wizards and witches never achieve a corporeal form. To manage even thick mist at your age and with the horrors in your past that you have is nothing short of extraordinary. Regardless of what happened today, you should be pleased with your accomplishments so far.'
'But it isn't enough,' Harry muttered despondently. 'The Dementors are still around the castle and I can't be sure they won't come back. I want to be able to defend myself.'
'And you are,' said Lupin bracingly. 'With enough practice, I am confident that you will master the spell. Before you leave, I want you to do one more thing for me.'
'Yes, sir?'
'Close your eyes and think of the happiest memory that you can remember. Don't worry about the logistics or the events surrounding it, such as what might have happened afterwards. Just focus on that single emotion - pure joy - and allow it to fill you up, to envelop you until there is no room for doubt or worry ...'
Harry shut his eyes obediently and reassessed his thoughts, again jumping to the time Hagrid told him he was a wizard, and that he could leave the Dursleys and go to Hogwarts. At the time, even though he was exhilarated, there was a small part of him that was worried that the Dursleys would somehow find a way to stop him from leaving, make his life miserable, as they always had. Now, however, he tried his hardest to ignore all that, to simply pinpoint the source of his emotions and let them swell inside him, 'til he felt he would explode ...
'Yes, Professor?' he said, opening his eyes and realising that he was smiling.
'If we only recalled happy memories when we had no other choice, then where would we be? Dementors feed on unhappiness and despair; just as we need food to nourish our bodies, we need wonderful and joyous experiences to nourish our souls. It is not enough to simply want to live, Harry - you must have something worth living for.' Lupin looked directly at Harry and smiled. 'You may go.'
'Thank you, Professor.' And Harry left, ultimately feeling more cheerful than he had in weeks.
