Author's Note: This chapter starts just after chapter four of Take no Umbridge I, and ends concurrently with chapter five. Only two more scenes from that story need to be covered from this point of view before I'm into new material.
I'd like to thank the following for their help on this chapter: fibinaci, Tommy King, Jim Trigg, noylj, J, daggerfang, stormkitsune, and SlickRCBD.
Chapter 10: Patroni
Professor Severus Snape looked over the class he had assembled in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. There were forty fifth years and thirty fourth years. There should have been two more fourth years Astoria Greengrass was skipping due to feminine problems. Snape hadn't inquired further on that, but it seemed that Creevy was in the Hospital Wing, after some sort of confrontation about the Quidditch Locker Rooms. If what Snape had heard was correct, he thought he really should be spending more time there. Oh no, it looked like he'd convinced Poppy to let him out early. Well, at least he could count on Creevy to document everything thoroughly.
He was going to have to rely heavily on the eight prefects. There was no other way to keep control of such a large group of students. Of course, there was no way to avoid requiring the assistance of Harry Potter for this particular class. Not only did the bloody Boy-Who-Lived own the basilisk remains by Right of Conquest, he was also the only one who could open the chamber at Hogwarts, though there were rumors that Miss Weasley still could.
"Mister Potter, any words about the conditions in the Chamber, or the trip to it, that you wish to inform the class about?" Snape asked.
Potter, who was already standing next to the sink that he had to open the entrance via, immediately spoke up. "I'm going to open the stairs down, instead of the slide. When you get to the bottom, we'll be walking through a graveyard of small rodent skeletons. There was a collapse near the entrance, caused by a backfire of Ron's wand. This has been shored up, but the Headmaster has asked that we be careful when walking through that section.
"A second door will have to be opened to get into the chamber proper. It swings open rather wide. Don't get any closer than I do ... in fact stay a couple feet back until I say it is fully opened. Oh, and don't make a hissing sound like this shis-sh-sh. It turns out that's parceltongue for close quickly. There are pools of water along the edges of the Chamber, some of them being rather deep. They are a bit slimy at the moment. You have been warned."
"Indeed," Snape said, moving to stand beside Potter. "It would behoove everyone to remember what Mister Potter said." Snape let his words sink in for just a few seconds. "Potter, open the door."
"Sssh shaa siss malsh," Potter said. At least that was what Snape thought he heard before the sinks slid apart, revealing a stair lined pipe, sinking down into the floor.
As soon as the pipe was completely opened, Potter started to head down the stairs. Snape followed him, somehow also ending up behind Miss Weasley too. Going down to the depths of Hogwarts, into an underground cavern that he'd never seen before, for just a moment sent a feeling that he had felt the first time he'd spotted Hogwarts from the Black lake. It was feeling he'd had exploring the dungeons during his first year, finding the best routes between Slytherin and Gryffindor, the best places to meet Lily.
As they descended to the caverns and walked to the chamber door, the low cast of the light allowed Snape to for just a moment return to those days, when he'd followed Lily on rainy Sundays to some new area of the castle she'd found, or the reverse.
"Sssh shaa lash," Potter said as the group came to a halt in front of the Chamber door.
Snape watched as the snakes slid around unlocking the door on Potter's orders. Then the door opened, revealing the legendary Chamber of Secrets. Snape stepped through the door first, as the torches lit up the Chamber, revealing the basilisk. It appeared that Potter had actually underestimated its size. Potter had said it was about fifty feet long, and about twice his height. Recalling Potter's height a couple years back, he might have been right about the height, but Snape marked the basilisk at a good sixty-five feet.
"Potter!" Snape snapped.
"Yes, Professor?" Harry replied in a surprisingly even tone.
"You have appeared to have underestimated the size of your adversary," Snape said. "We may not be able to harvest all of this in the time allotted, however, that does not mean we shall not learn all that is possible from the experience."
He then turned to the class that had followed him into the chamber. "Mister Potter has underestimated the size of the basilisk. Quick estimates are almost never correct. We shall, however, allow for a – certain degree – of exaggeration under pressure. There is no pressure today, however. Fifth years, please take out the note pads that Miss Granger arranged for everyone. Estimate the length, weight, and height of the beast. We shall be comparing your estimate. Fourth years boys, save Mr. Creevy, after the fifth years have written down their estimate, we shall provide a frame of reference for Mr. Creevy's documenting picture, by having you all lay end to end along the length ...
Ginny Weasley was not entirely sure how she'd ended up with practically all the fifth years from three houses early on a Saturday morning, learning how to cast a patronus.
She was pretty sure that Harry was offering the class because of a challenge from Dumbledore. Ginny and her fellow fourth years had been the beneficiaries of most of the practicals that Harry had offered under the guidance of the Headmaster. She didn't know a single person in her year, in any house, that hadn't enjoyed them. And the first years were always demanding more painting games. That painting spell had turned out to be very useful.
Ginny had only caught the end of the confrontation between Umbridge, Dumbledore, and Dowager Longbottom. Neville's Gran really had the best dry tone response. "As it stands, Umbridge, I'd hire him, and put you out as the ass."
Harry stood in front of the class and began to speak. "The patronus spell is not just composed of the wand movement and incantation. A full patronus is produced only with strong positive emotions," Harry began. "Don't think of just something that makes you happy. Think of something that fills you, makes you warm with joy. Done properly, that feeling will fill you, and feel almost like that when you first held your first wand. Only then should you firmly and strongly say the incantation, 'Expecto Patronum!'"
And with that the stag burst out of Harry's wand. It pranced around the room, before dissipating in sparkles above Ginny.
"You may find that the first few times you try this spell, it takes a lot out of you. Be careful. If you get magically exhausted, Madam Pompfrey will kill me. Take at least a couple squares of the chocolate in the back in between your attempts tonight. Lavender Brown, thank you for providing me with the order form to get enough Cadbury Dairy Milk bars for today.
"Your first successful results will not be a full patronus. Your first success is likely to be a misty shield, which is still enough to protect you. Patroni are manifestations of the feelings and devotions of the person that cast them. If you have an animagus form, it will often be that. My father's was a stag, his animangus form. It can change through out your life. Especially devoted couples may, but do not always, develop complementary forms. My mother's was a doe.
"What is behind your patronus's form is often very personal, just like the emotions that powered their creation. It is said that the stronger your emotion, the stronger your connection to that form, the stronger the patronus. My patronus may be a stag, like my father's before me, but do not think that the form is the strength.
"Yesterday afternoon I was practicing with Luna Lovegood, a friend of Ginny – and mine – in Ravenclaw, and she produced a rabbit for her patronus. That rabbit was so strong that it was physical. It actually tousled my hair as it bounded around the room.
"Now, start thinking about the time you felt the most happy. Feel the joy in your mind and bring it forward. When you feel it fill your mind, point your wand forward from the upright position and firmly say the words, 'Expecto Patronum.'"
Ginny tried to come up with that one memory that made her feel the best. It wasn't easy. At first she thought about when Harry had held her after he rescued her. But that didn't really fill her with joy. She'd been too scared about what might happen to her. Then she thought about the Yule Ball, which reminded her of how much her feet hurt after dancing with Neville.
Then she remembered Harry telling her about using his feeling when flying, and suddenly her memory was flooded with that first night that she had borrowed of her brothers' brooms to go flying. It had been a cool, clear summer night, and her older brothers had just told the then six-year-old girl that she couldn't fly because she was too little, never mind that they'd taught Ron two years before.
She'd jimmied the lock on the broom shed, and picked up the Cleansweep Five owned by Percy. She'd whispered the command, and hit had rose into her hand. And then she'd mounted it and begun to fly. The feeling of the wind through her hair and the cool air caressing her night shirt was pure freedom, a feeling she'd sought after again and again. In her mind she was back then, flying over Devon, diving and rising, weaving through the trees in the light of the moon.
The words escaped her mouth, as the feeling of joy filled her, "Expecto Patronum." She didn't shout the words, they came out strong, though, and you could hear the note of joy from her memory in them. Her eyes, which she had not even recalled closing, opened, to discover a horse emerging at a gallop from her wand.
"Okay, I was wrong. It seems that a first successful attempt can be a full patronus. Great job, Ginny."
Harry Potter knew that today was the day that Neville's Gran, the High Inquisitor, was to finally observe and evaluate Professor Umbridge. Neville asked him to meet her right after class, for some reason.
It had been two weeks since Madame Longbottom had stopped by one of his practicals, a session with the first years on the importance of dodging. He hadn't even realized that she might be there to do anything other than talk with Professor Dumbledore. The Headmaster liked to watch him with the first years especially ... probably because they were actually taking his offered lemon drops.
The door to the classroom was open, and he could hear Umbridge calling roll. He chuckled a bit as he heard his own name called. He hadn't believed Ron when he said that Umbridge was still marking him absent for a course that he was no longer enrolled in.
Umbridge began her lecture on dealing with dangerous creatures. It was right out of the book, word for word. And that book was one that Harry had discovered was widely rejected by the peers of the author. It was really only accepted by countries that had repressive regimes, apparently. That said a lot about where the Ministry of Magic was heading. His independent studying was revealing lots of things that Harry really didn't like about the Magical World, a place that had once had a reputation rivaling Heaven in Harry's mind.
He started to review in his mind what he'd read, and what he'd tell the class, instead of the drivel that this year's disaster of a Defense professor was teaching. When it came to dangerous creatures, he at least, seemed to regularly encounter them. Some people might have said he was taking Care, like he was taking Divination, just because Ron said it was an easy class. No, Harry knew that when it came to anything dangerous, it would eventually end up attacking him. Dragons, cerberi, werewolves, basilisks, dementors ... he'd encountered and survived them all. Calling the Ministry was never an option.
He looked back in the class room. There was a trio of patroni on Umbridge's desk, and the Professor was backing away from them.
"Enough! We do not do demonstration magic at all in this class!" Umbridge screeched. "You do not need to do any practice on spells in my class."
Harry could hear Neville's gran's "tut-tut" in the hallway. Neville called it the deadly sound of the Pharaoh, and from the lips her as High Inquisitor it was not a good sign to hear. Harry was proud that when the High Inquisitor stopped by his practical, it had not been heard.
"Take out your books and read chapter ten!" Umbridge ordered, as the patroni moved to stand on the edge of her desk. Several more had joined the first three. She seemed to be afraid of them, which would explain just a bit.
Harry steeped forward to the threshold of the door, deciding that he was not going to let his students, his friends, go unacknowledged. He was pretty sure that some of those patroni had been cast silently too.
"Expecto Patronum!" Harry said calmly from the door, the memory and feeling easily drawn to mind due to his long practice. He could do it silently, but sometimes the words imparted extra power. Prongs, the stag, the image of his father, emerged from his wand and pranced across the room to stand by the desk now filled with patroni.
Umbridge stumbled as the stag came to a stop, apparently trying to back away from the desk.
"Sorry Professor," Harry said, smiling. "I thought there might be a dementor here, when I saw all the patroni in the room. Ernie, is that boar yours?" Ernie had had a lot of trouble even getting the mist at the practical he'd offered a couple Saturdays before at the Headmaster's urging.
"Yes Harry," Ernie replied, obviously very proud of his effort. "First time I got it corporeal, cast it silently too."
"That deserves points, doesn't it, Professor," Harry said, wishing he had the right to give points for it.
"No, it does not! Class is over, dismissed," Umbridge said, retreating from the class room.
Harry nodded at Prongs, and the stag approached as if to nuzzle the professor. Umbridge turned and tripped on the threshold of her office, falling onto the ugly pink shag rug. That would be the first thing to go if Harry ever took over that office.
"Tut-tut," Neville's Gran said. "This is not going to be a good evaluation. Two bad ones on one day, though Snape wasn't in this one's league."
Umbridge slammed the door.
"Now, as High Inquistor, I can give points," Neville's Gran said. "What would you recommend, Mister Potter?"
"Five points for being corporeal," Harry suggested. "And since silent casting isn't on the syllabus until next year, twenty-five for those who cast it silently."
"Very good," the High Inquisitor said. "That would be for Gryffindor, twenty-five each for Miss Granger, Mister Finnigan, Miss Brown, Mister Weasley, Mister Longbottom. Five for Miss Patil, Mister Thomas. For Hufflepuff, twenty-five for Miss Bones, Miss Abbot, Mister Macmillan, Mister Finch-Fletchly. Five for Mister Smith, Miss Jones. For Ravenclaw, twenty-five for Miss Brocklehurst, Miss Turpin, Mister Cornfoot, Mister Boot, Miss Patil. Five for Mister Goldstein. I did not see any casting from Slytherin.
"I believe, however, that Mister Potter is planning on another practical on the Patronus this coming Saturday. I suggest you attend. It is most enlightening. Though, actually, given the time left in the class – Mister Potter, would you mind conducting a short session now?
Harry couldn't help but smile as he moved to stand in front of the class, surrounded by his friend's patroni. "I have time."