Chapter 12

When Harry was almost sixteen years old, he sat outside of Lauren's office, his leg bouncing with nerves. He kept wiping the sweating palms of his hands against his jean clad knees, trying to remain calm. He really needed this job. He wished he had something other than jeans to wear, worn out, baggy jeans at that. But he couldn't buy better clothes without money and he was worried he wouldn't be able to get money without better clothes. He never had an interview before but everything said that he should dress nicely. He knew he wasn't dressed nicely.

Lauren opened the door, glancing down at his pathetic "resume" before glancing back up at him. "Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded, standing quickly and wiping his hands one last time before reaching out to shake her offered hand.

Three months later he was promoted from busboy to server. At this point he felt comfortable enough at the Winchester, nodding happily at the staff and unconsciously swerving around tables and bric-a-brac with ease, but still felt nervous as he eyed his first table from across the room.

Seated there was a nice, upper-middle class family, by the look of them. Mother, with long wavy brown hair, glancing through the menu, pointing at something to Daughter, her hair a mass of curly chaos, who rolled her eyes. Next to her was Father, his hair also brown, tight curls close to his head. He bumped Daughter's shoulder with his lightly before Mother and Father made eye contact over her head, smiling a shared parental kind of smile. Harry took a deep breath and made his way over to them.

"Hello, welcome to the Winchester. My name's Harry. Were you all looking to start with some drinks?" He smiled at them, looking at theirs foreheads rather than their eyes, his cheeks feelings vaguely warm.

There was a beat before Father looked at him with a grin. "Tell me, ah, Harry, what would you say is something quintessentially British?"

Harry looked at him, his mind blank, his stomach dropping. Quintessentially British? Was this a trick? Was Lauren watching them all from behind a peephole hidden by the wall decorations, shaking her head, marking an x next to the secret server evaluation sheet titled "Basic Server Intuition Checklist: Knowing What is Quintessentially British."

"Ummm…" Harry shifted, looking at the Father with a, what he hoped, was a politely questioning look on his face.

"Come now, Harry, what is a typical British drink?"

Harry shook his head, a little bewildered. "Tea?"

The father slapped his hand down on the table, lightly, looking over at his wife and daughter triumphantly. Mother smiled a smug sort of smile, leaning back in her chair, looking over at Daughter. Now both Father and Mother were looking at Daughter with smug expressions on their faces, their arms crossed over their chests. Daughter glanced between them, exasperated. Daughter glanced up at him, her eyes a deep brown, her smile strangely captivating as she leaned towards him, almost conspiratorially. "Harry, do you drink tea with every meal?"

Harry couldn't help looking at her in the eye, smiling back. "No, of course not." It was Hermione's turn to look triumphantly at her parents.

Father looked back at him with a playful scowl. "Oh yes, take the pretty girl's side, then." Harry smiled back, shrugging, still not fully understanding.

Mother coughed, "We will take three English breakfasts, two cups of Earl Grey and a blasphemous orange juice, please."

Harry nodded, smiling fully now, jotting everything down. "Three Full Monties and blasphemy coming right up."


Harry and Hermione were sitting in their rapidly becoming crowded hide away, filled with books, papers, and poorly transfigured furniture. They were leaning their heads together, both looking at what appeared to be a hand held mirror. Instead of their reflections, however, there was a round faced boy staring back at them.

"Can you see us both now, Neville?"

"Yes, Yes, more or less. Aren't these great?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Where on earth did you get these? I haven't read about anything like these at all."

Neville grinned proudly. "I'm not sure exactly who we got them from. G-Gram, she uh, she passed them off to me, before, saying that they were important. For a long time I didn't understand how a couple of plain mirrors could be important, but I'm hardly going to throw something she gave me away, something she said was important. It came to me what they might be when I was reading a letter from you all while getting ready for the day, and well, here we are."

"This will make learning a lot more easy from now on, thank you Neville." Harry said, impressed.

"So, you've sent us about a million and one books, which has just made Hermione pleased as punch, but what do you think you should show us now that you can?" Harry asked, leaning in closer out of enthusiasm, making Hermione scowl and nudge her head with his, making room again.

Neville looked at them, biting his lip before opening his mouth and letting out half a sound and then stopping himself and starting to bite his lip again. He repeated this process for the fourth time when Hermione lost her patience. "Well go on Neville, then, spit it out."

Neville turned a little pink and then quickly started speaking. "Have either of you heard of Dementors?"

"Yes," Hermione supplied right as Harry shook his head no.

Before Neville could say anything, Hermione turned to Harry, annoyed. "But Harry, they were in that book I gave you last week, 'Dangerous Creatures of the Dark.' I thought you said you read it?"

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes. "No, I said that I started to read it. Along with the 'Rise and Fall of Dark Wizards' and 'Practical Transfiguration' and 'Muggle Madness: the Dumbledore Years.' I'm not you Hermione, I can't get through a book a day."

Hermione looked at him, her mouth opening and closing before sputtering out, "So- So then you haven't finished any of those books? B-But you've been talking about them with me all week!"

Harry smiled back, a little guiltily. "Yes, well, I keep up with you most of the time, but you know, sometimes you get on tangents, and well, why stop you when you're on a roll?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him before speaking, saying, "We will have to talk about this later. Neville? Care to explain to Harry what dementors are, as apparently he has gotten quite use to tuning me out?"

Neville glanced between Harry and Hermione, uncomfortably. "Um, well, so dementors are dark creatures who feed on the happiness of the humans around them, leaving them unable to feel happiness. They make the people they are close to relive their worst memories over and over again. Also, if given the chance, they will suck the soul right out of a person, leaving them a husk of a human being, we call this a Dementor's Kiss."

Harry looked between Neville and Hermione, at their serious faces, and frowned. "Well they sound unpleasant."

Neville snorted before shaking his head. He took a deep breath bordering on a sigh before speaking again. "They use to guard the prison Azkaban but when the Dark Lord came back they started following his orders. By the time that everything was settled, the dementors stopped listening to anybody, really. They sort of fly around in small groups now, attacking people here and there. The ministry tries keep them in control, but it's a half arsed effort, to say the least. I personally think that they like to have them floating around here and there, makes people frightened."

"Anyway, there is a spell that can drive them away called the Patronus Charm. It use to be that not a lot of people could do them. It's a rather hard spell, takes a lot of power, but now everybody tries to learn it. At least they try to get an incorporeal one for themselves, and least one person who can do a corporeal one in the family, in case there is an attack. In my family, I'm the only one who can do a corporeal Patronus." Neville looked at them with a small, proud smile once again on his face.

"So you want to teach us this charm, then? It does sound useful, considering how terrible those creatures sound."

Neville nodded, looking uncertain. "It will be difficult and not to mention hard to test, as it is a lot harder to make a Patronus with a dementor around than without, but at least we can try. First, you have to think of a really happy memory…"

Three hours later, Hermione and Harry were sprawled on the makeshift bed, exhausted. "That was frustrating," Harry murmured, too tired to hold onto his annoyance.

Next to him, Hermione nodded. "It will take a lot of practice. But Harry, you did a great job."

Harry scowled, "I did not, you did much better. My attempts were stupid."

Hermione frowned next to him. "That's not true at all, Neville said that he's never seen so much white mist."

Harry let out an impatient sigh. "That wasn't a good thing Hermione, it's just weird. You don't need lots of mist, you need to make it into a shape. Yours almost took a shape."

Hermione rolled on her side to look at him, annoyance in her eyes. "Are we becoming petty and competitive now, Harry, because I can't say I'm overly pleased with this new attitude. Between this and the fact you have been pretending to listen to me in conversations all last week, I have half the mind to make you sleep on the couch."

Harry rolled on his side to look at her, too, frowning. "We don't have a couch."

Hermione shrugged, half serious, half joking, "That would be your problem."

Harry sighed, his frown softening into something else. "First, I'm sorry about not necessarily telling you I haven't caught up on the books, it's just that you were so enthusiastic, and I didn't, well, I didn't want to disappoint you about not having finished them yet. But really, Hermione, I just can't read as fast as you, just give me a little more time."

Hermione's frowned softened into something else too.

Harry continued. "And no, I'm not trying to become competitive with you. I'm just frustrated with myself. What if we run into those dementors somewhere? If I can't make anything approaching a Patronus now, I probably won't do anything at all if one shows up. How am I supposed to protect us then?"

Hermione's frown came back with renewed force. "Well, then, I'll just have to protect us."

Harry frowned back. " I don't want that."

Hermione lifted herself up on to her elbow, looking down at Harry, her voice sharp. "Why on earth not? Your masculinity couldn't handle being protected by a girl? I have to say Harry, I thought you were more mature than that, to be embarrassed by…"

Harry reached up and flicked her nose, smirking at her. "Calm down Gloria Steinem, that's not what I'm trying to say. You already do, well, everything. To say I feel indebted to you is an understatement. The idea of standing there useless as we are attacked by just the worst sounding creatures, while you once again save me...it just makes me feel pointless, helpless, I don't know, exactly, but at the very least I want to protect you. I at least want to be able to do that."

Hermione looked down at him in a considering way. She fell back onto her back with a huff. "I can understand that feeling, though I don't necessarily agree with you. Really, I haven't saved you from anything. And, Harry, let's not forget that time you actually died for me, so I rather think I'm indebted to you."

Harry shrugged at her with a half smile. "That's different."

"How do you figure?" Hermione's voice was incredulous.

"Because that was easy. Just a half step in front of you, my life for yours, it was obvious. To die like that, it takes a half second of thought, natural as anything. But you, you keep living with me. Everyday. So many decisions you've made, time and again, to stick with me. I, I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. I guess I'm saying, in its own way, my dying for you was easy, but your living with me, that takes real work."

"Oh Harry." Hermione looked at him, her face full of emotion. "You aren't work to live with."

Harry looked at her with an almost indulgent smile, his disbelief coming through. Hermione moved towards him, pressing her face against his chest muttering, "You don't have to sleep on our nonexistent couch."

Harry chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her.


They had been training for this. They had been practising with Neville for months. But that didn't stop Harry's mouth from feeling dry, his heart heart pounding, as he looked out at the pureblood rally.

The crowd around the stage was spaced oddly. Harry wasn't sure why he noticed this at first as his mind was racing through a million and one other, more important, things. But he couldn't help but notice it, notice the way that no one was touching, nobodies' shoulders brushing, no children up on parents' backs, no lovers holding hands. Everyone was standing as though waiting in line at the post office, at least a foot between each other, all looking one direction, their faces grave. The air burned with silence, the thumping of people moving around the podium on stage reverberated around the square.

Even though he was already chanting Expecto Patronum tirelessly in his head, even though he already knew beyond a doubt that he could do it. Even though he was clutching his wand with white knuckles, he still couldn't help being distracted by the realization that there were no children in the crowd at all. He glanced involuntarily at Hermione who was making her way across the crowd towards the stage. He could catch glances of her face between people's shoulders. He could see the distress etched around her eyes and he knew that she also sensed that something was terribly off.

The atmosphere seemed less like a rally and more like a public execution.


The otter patronus was beautiful, the way it swam around his head more gracefully than its real counterpart could ever be. It's silvery light should have been creepy or unnatural in their small room but instead it was iridescent, shifting between the bright sliver of sun on water to the calm pearly silver of the moon on grass and every shade between. It tucked into a small dive by Harry's head to his feet and then glided across the floor back to Hermione, who reached out her hand and touched her fingertips to its nose before it melted away into the air.

Watching Hermione with her small smile full of something calmer and more powerful than joy, her eyes still illuminated by the glow of the patronus, her wand held in her hand like an extension of herself, Harry felt certain of something. Certain of the thrum in the air after the spell, the way that thrum echoed in his own wand, the way that thrum filled his lungs like air.

Magic is wonderful.

"Your turn, Harry." Hermione smiled encouragingly at him.

"Hermione! That was brilliant. An otter patronus. Mine's a, well, mine's a um, well, haha, not important, point is good job Hermione!" Neville's pleased face was looking at them from the mirror, propped up in the three legged arm chair in the corner of the room. "I figured you'd be able to do it soon, considering how fast you picked up on it. Now Harry, you clearly have the power for it, if we could just concentr…"

"Now, now Neville, you can't just expect to change the subject like that, can you? What is it?" Harry grinned at Neville's frustrated face.

"It's not my patronus that's important here, Harry. We need to get you…"

"Is it a toad?" Harry guessed, his smile turning sly.

Neville flushed, "No, it's not. Now…"

"Is it a sloth?" Hermione supplied, sliding in closer to Harry, wearing an astonishingly similar smile.

Neville glanced between them. "You two aren't going to let this go, are you?"

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other, fully smiling.

"Rabbit?"

"Piglet?"

"Ladybug?"

"Oooh, good one, how about butterfly?" Both started laughing.

"Koala bear."

"Kangaroo."

"Pony."

"Llama."

"Turtle! Alright! It's a turtle, are you lot happy now?"

There was a beat of silence before Harry and Hermione burst out into peals of laughter.

"Tu-turtle. Turtle. Wha-what do you do if the Dementor changes direction, Ne-Neville?" Hermione asked, trying to stifle her laughter at seeing Neville's expression of exasperation.

"Do you just carry it towards them? Oh, or maybe you throw the turtle towards them?" Harry asked, his voice wavering under the pressure of suppressed laughter.

"Ha bloody ha. It's a sea turtle, you berks. It swims like Hermione's otter does."

Hermione huffed, grinning. "Well, that's much less funny then."

Neville rolled his eyes. "Can we get back on track here, people? Harry, we are really going to focus on you here on out. Try to concentrate on something purely happy, as pure a happy memory as you can. Not like that time you tried to use the memory of kicking a ball off your cousin's head, pretty much the opposite of that, honestly."

Harry felt the grin slid off his face as he racked his brain for a purely happy memory. He knew he could skip past anything involving the Dursleys. That cut out a lot of things, including pretty much all of primary school as Dudley had been there for that. It would have to be something from Stonewall or the Winchester.

Harry thought about the first time Mr. Alberic kept him after class, handing him an A on his paper, eagerly telling him that he thought Harry had talent. "You have a sense of gravity about you, Harry, maturity that a lot of your classmates haven't come into yet, it shows in your writing. I also noticed you out in PE class running ahead of the rest. Have you thought about joining a team…?" Harry had been so taken aback by the onslaught of compliments he actually glanced behind him to make sure that he had been talking to him and not some unseen classmate right behind him.

Harry tried to hold on to that feeling of happy surprise as he said out loud with conviction, "Expecto Patronum." He could feel the magic moving out through his wand and tried to concentrate on Mr. Alberic's sincerely enthusiastic face. Unbidden, the image of Mr. Alberic's face looking still eager but gravely ill in the hospital accompanied it and try as he might Harry couldn't hang onto the feeling of happy surprise without also feeling a pang of grief.

Sighing, Harry opened his eyes and saw that the room was once again full of silvery fog, grayer than Hermione's patronus and quickly disappearing into the air like steam by a window.

In the chair Neville sighed. "I just haven't seen anything like it before. What did you think of this time?"

Harry shook his head, frowning. "I'm going to try again, I can do this, I just need something different."

The Winchester then, something from there. Last time he tried a memory of the cooks laughing with him in the back, but Neville said that had been too vague. It had to be a very specific happy memory. He tried to think of something specific, but he was oddly coming up blank. The Winchester was great because of the general feeling of being liked, a certain sense of familiarity, not because of any one...

Harry stood up straighter. He did have a specific happy memory. He felt annoyed with himself for taking so long to remember it. His seventeenth birthday, how could he forget? He brought to mind his surprise at walking in for one of the twice yearly restaurant wide meetings to see the glittering happy birthday banner and a cake waiting in the center of the restaurant. Lauren, the cooks, the other servers, and the bartenders were all standing around it. They all yelled, more or less at the same time, "Happy Birthday!" Harry stood there shocked, his mouth falling open. Everyone started laughing at him.

"Harry, mate, don't get too touched, we chipped in for a store bought cake and the sign is from Poundland."

"Yeah, we didn't even do anything, 'cept stand here and laugh at your dumb gob." Ben, a bartender, supplied from the back of the crowd. Harry remember swallowing thickly, feeling touched all the same.

"Thanks everybody, seriously."

They all smiled and nodded, Lauren moving forward to cut the cake.

Harry felt a smile pull on his face naturally this time. Without trying to think too much he said the incantation. The mist from his wand was much brighter this time, curling more and more into itself, making a shape, something large. Harry, still smiling, was thinking of how it was really decent of them, no matter how they tried to brush it off. Harry remembered hearing later that Lauren actually got up extra early to go pick up the cake from her favorite baker. Harry was wondering how they were all doing when felt his stomach clench at the realization that they were all still out there, thinking that he had murdered his family. The Patronus abruptly dimmed and started pushing outward in the same thick gray fog as before. Harry let out his breath and dropped his wand down to his side, frustrated.

Neville sighed, "Damn, I really thought you were going to do it this time, Harry. What were you thinking of? What happened?"

Harry shrugged. "I think I'm just a depressing bloke, honestly."

Neville frowned at him from the mirror. "I never thought of you a downer or anything Harry. Why don't you think of Hermione, that should be happy enough?"

Harry shook his head. "Hermione isn't a memory, though. I mean, she standing right here, it just seems, I don't know, I just wouldn't be able to concentrate."

Neville pulled a face and made a gagging noise. "You would be so overcome with the power of your love for her you wouldn't be able to concentrate?"

Harry shook his head, grinning. "I don't really mean it that way. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say, really, other than I've already thought of using memories of Hermione, of course, it just doesn't seem right, with her standing here. She just doesn't seem like a memory, you know, something you pull from within?"

Neville and Hermione looked thoughtful, glancing at each other. Hermione broke the silence. "It's something to think about. I'm exhausted anyway, I wouldn't mind rapping up, actually."

"I have detention tomorrow, so we will have to wait until the day after to try again, I'm afraid."

Harry and Hermione nodded, moving closer to the mirror to say goodbye. "What did you get detention for, Neville?"

Neville grinned half ruefully, half proundly. "I punched Draco Malfoy in the nose."

Harry smiled while Hermione frowned. "Awesome, Neville."

"Oh honestly, Harry, it's not awesome. It's stupid to resort to violence. It doesn't seem like you, Neville."

Neville grinned a private sort of grin. "Believe me Hermione, if you ever met him, you'd want to punch him the nose too."


"I know it's a little dangerous to be hanging out in the open like this, what with you being a wanted man and all, but you have to admit it Harry. This feels nice."

It was a freakishly warm day for February and Harry and Hermione put their fears aside and went to the park by their hide away, a small place with a wide lawn and a few swings. Hermione flopped herself on her back and stretched out her limbs as far as they would go, looking like a cat finding the warmest patch of light by the window. Harry sat down next her cross legged, looking anxiously around the park for anything odd.

Hermione looked at the expression of his face with a huff. "You know you're being bad when I'm telling you to lighten up, Harry."

Harry glanced down at her, grinning. "Oh, I see, if your going to be the carefree one now, the least I could do is help you out with it." Harry reached over and poked her side under her cardigan.

Hermione jerked violently away. "Oh no you don't, Harry Potter!"

Harry's smile widened as he leaned more towards her. "Oh, I think I will." Harry grasped her sides and tickled, Hermione laughing, slapping away his hands, gasping for air, her face pink, her eyes bright with laughter.

Very suddenly she stopped laughing and gave a different gasp all together, grabbing Harry's hand, her eyes wide looking over his shoulder. Harry whipped his head around, his hand moving towards his wand.

For a second he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. Running full tilt towards them, his long limbs pumping him closer to them by the second, his red hair flying behind him, was Ron Weasley. Harry and Hermione stood, pulling towards each other, not sure what to do.

Ron was coming close now, skidding to a stop a bit away from them, his eyes also wide. "Blimey, it really is you two. I, What, I'm not sure, I'm just not...Look, I don't know what you both are doing here and I know we didn't part in the best terms when I saw you last, but you have to help me." Ron spoke in a rush, his hands on his knees, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other, uncertain. Ron shook his head, his expression hard to read. "Look, I wouldn't trust me if I were you guys either, I mean, I said a lot of things, I'm sure if I had been in your shoes...The point is that the Order wasn't particularly surprised when you lot bolted, a lot of us don't blame you, I mean some do, McGonagall and Moody had a fit, but my family didn't, not really…" Ron took more deep breaths, his breathing become more even. He stood up straight.

"What I'm really getting at here is that I pissed off some Death Eaters and they are on my tail. I can't use magic for a bit. I'm not sure how, but they can track it for awhile if they are in the same area and I just fought with them, so they know what to look for. There are dementors flying around here now, too. I saw you guys as I was running up the street and I couldn't believe it, but I had to come see. Anyway, if you two could help me hide out for a little bit, just you know, anywhere, I'd be right greatful."

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other again, frowning. Hermione cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. Harry's frowned deeped. He glanced back at Ron considering before glancing back at Hermione. He nodded his head towards the park exit. Hermione nodded at Ron and muttered, "Well, come on, then."

Ron's face broke into a relieved sort of smile and followed after Hermione, his long legs catching up with her short ones easily as she walked quickly towards the gate, Harry following behind them, glancing over his shoulders. He couldn't be sure if he was imagining it or if it was coincidence, but he thought the air seemed distinctly colder than it had just a few minutes ago.