Patronus Lessons

Harry sighed. He tapped his foot, trying not to show how anxious he was. Why would Professor Snape ask him to stay behind after potions class? That was never good.

He waited, watching the professor wave to everyone, closing the door behind him.

"Alright Mr. Potter. You've had your fun."

"What?" the boy asked, brow furrowing.

"The book," Professor Snape said, crossing his arms. "You've had your laugh, but it's over. Just admit it's a fake and we'll pretend this never happened."

"I'm not my father, Professor Snape," Harry said, leaning on the desk behind him. "I would never joke like that. It's the real deal."

"But...but…" the professor sputtered. "Where did you get it?"

"From my vault." The boy shrugged. "Truthfully-as the letter said-it was from my mum. I just translated it from parseltongue." He quirked a brow. "Although, how Mum thought you'd get any use out of it-without a parselmouth close by-is anyone's guess. Maybe she thought it'd make a nice coffee table book."

Professor Snape rolled his eyes. "No one in their right mind would place a priceless book on a coffee table." He sighed. "I am sorry for the assumption, but…"

Harry held up his hand. "Nope. No apology needed. If Zabini's son ever handed something to me telling me it was a priceless Gryffindor journal, I'd laugh in his face."

"Well, thank you."

"No problem. She wanted you to have it."

"Well," the potions master said, unfolding his arms and taking a seat at his desk. "I do appreciate it." He smiled. "Now, you should move along back to your dorm before Minerva comes barging in accusing me of using you for potions ingredients."

Harry smirked, nodding. He ran back to the Gryffindor common room, throwing a quick "goodbye" behind him. Once there, he opened his sack to reveal his completed-but not turned in-homework.

"Dang," he said, turning to Hermione. "I guess I'm going to slip in my spot as third best potions student. He's going to count my homework as late."

"Maybe you can hand it in for partial credit if you go back now," Hermione said, not looking up from her book on ancient runes.

"Nah," Draco said, putting his quill down as he glanced at his friend, "Uncle Sev's probably already gone to his private quarters. His office hours are Tuesdays and Thursdays, not Mondays."

"Wait," Harry scrunched his nose, "but you always have potions class on Wednesday nights. How is that?"

Draco shrugged. "What Uncle Sev and I do in our private time is none of your business, Scarhead."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Hermione mumbled, flipping a page.

On Thursday, Harry slunk down to potions, a heavy weight on him. He knew his position would drop as soon as everyone's homework was returned.

"Oh, come now," Draco said, patting him on the back. "The Harry Potter I remember didn't care a lick about grades."

"The Harry Potter you remember was too busy trying to survive another year without too many deadly surprises." Harry readjusted his strap. "This Harry Potter cares very much about his grades. The world is his oyster, and he could get any job he wants if he applies himself."

"And this Harry Potter is currently talking in third-person," Hermione said, popping out from the adjacent hall.

"Wait," Draco scrunched his brow. "Didn't you say you were going back to your room to get your potions essay?"

"Yeah, and I got it." She held up the ink-stained parchment.

"Yes, but you should've come the opposite direction."

Hermione shrugged. "A staircase moved last second. I was able to maneuver myself without wasting too much time."

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes. Was she that bad of a liar last time?

They entered the potions classroom and plopped down at the front table. Professor Snape sat at his desk, grading papers.

"Ah, good, the three of you are here." He stood up, walking over to the Gryffindors. "Harry, I officially congratulate you. Your essay scored the highest of all the others."

"Wait. What?" All three said in unison.

"Yes. I was surprised, as well."

"Uhm, but Professor, I forgot it…"

"It was surely the best in the class. You must have my essay confused with some other class." He sat down, turning back to his grading. "Also, because of your high-standing in the class, you are exempt from the next assignment."

"Seriously?" Harry asked, brow furrowed. He glanced over at his friends. "What about them? They're higher up than I am."

The potions master quirked a brow and smirked. "Yes, but if I excused the two of them, they would both take personal offense and do it anyway."

Harry smirked, pulling out a roll of parchment and a quill. Well, he wasn't wrong.

"I cannot believe Professor Snape is playing favorites again," Hermione huffed as they exited the class. "Not giving a student homework is just preposterous! It was bad enough we could always tell he favored Draco, but now he isn't giving you-of all people-homework. How are you ever going to learn?"

"Why wouldn't my godfather favor me?" Draco asked, scowling. "I deserved it! I'm talented in potions."

"Shut up." She crossed her arms over her chest. "No teacher should ever favor their students. If it were right, then perhaps Professor Lupin should give points willy-nilly to Harry for breathing. Perhaps McGonagall should let him leave class early. I mean, he defeated Lord Voldermort three times already. Professor Snape isn't a just teacher!"

"Hey! Professor Snape is a brilliant teacher," Harry said, scowling.

"I never said he wasn't brilliant, I said he wasn't moral."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"With that said," he smirked, watching his two friends glare at each other, "I have to go meet Remus and pretend I have no clue how to produce a Patronus. See you."

Dragon got up from where he was laying and started to follow his godson. "Where do you think you're going?" Harry grabbed the scruff of his neck, "Uh uh, no, you are going to stay here. This is between Remus and me. You can stay here and chase Severys around the dorm again."

Draco's mouth fell agape.

"Hey!" he shouted, holding the snake wrapped around his arm close to his face, "I'm sure he doesn't mean it, Sevy. Just ignore the mean ol' Harry." Draco booped the snake on his nose.

"We have got to get him a girlfriend," Harry snorted. "'Mione?"

"What?" she asked, glancing up from her essay.

Harry rolled his eyes, turning to Dragon one last time.

"Stay."

He walked down the corridors. Meandering a bit until he reached his destination Harry knocked on the door. Remus came up behind him carrying a large packing case, wand carried in his mouth, and motioned for Harry to open the door. He walked in and dropped the large case on the floor.

Remus then turned towards Harry. "Are you ready?"

"I am." He surveyed the case. "What's that?"

"Another boggart," Remus leaned on it, crossing his legs and his arms. "I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real dementor." Harry scowled. "The boggart will-more likely than not-turn into a dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him here when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."

"Okay."

"So…" Remus took his own wand from where he had set it on the table, indicating that Harry should do the same. "The spell I am going to try to teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry. Well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It's called the Patronus Charm."

"How does it work?"

"Well, when it works correctly, it conjures up a Patronus," the professor pulled out a textbook, flipping to a picture of a murky shield. "which is kind of an anti-dementor—a guardian that acts as a shield between you and a dementor. The Patronus is a positive force, a projection of the very things that dementors feed upon—hope, happiness, the desire to survive—but it can't feel despair, as real humans can, so dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards and witches have difficulty to produce a charm such as this."

"What does a Patronus look like?"

"It is unique for each individual."

Harry held back a sigh. "And how do you conjure it?"

"With an incantation, which will only work if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."

Harry scrunched his brow. Would he have a happier memory this time? He could still use that picnic with his parents, but if he produced a fully formed patronus this early on, there would be questions. He really shouldn't be able to produce a wisp yet.

"Right," Harry said, nodding.

"The incantation is Expecto Patronum," Remus said, waving his wand.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry repeated.

"Now concentrate hard on your happy memory." The professor walked over to the trunk. "Are you ready for a dementor?"

"Always." Harry muttered. The boggart flew out of the trunk. The black, death-like creature was floating in the air as a ghost would. Harry paused for a moment and raised his wand to the beast, thinking about his friends and how amazing it was hearing stories about his parents.

"Expecto Patronum…. Expecto Patronum… EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He tried but nothing happened. He smirked, before paling and swaying.

Remus's face fell. He stood in front of the boy, letting to boggart change into a full moon before casting Riddikulus. Once the boggart was safely contained, Remus ran to his student.

"Harry! Are you alright? I knew this was a bad idea. Don't feel guilty. It's an almost impossible spell for a fully grown wizard, let alone a thirteen-year-old one." Remus scanned the boy for signs of distress. "Here eat this, you'll feel better." He handed Harry a piece of chocolate.

Harry graciously took the sweet and started nibbling on it. He tilted his head, nose scrunched.

"Remus, why is your boggart a moon?"

The man tensed. This might be James's son, but he also had Lily's mind. Just any lie wouldn't do. Remus sat still for a few minutes before rising and walking to his desk.

"Well, the moon is in space. My friends always liked to joke about sending someone to space without a spacesuit and I think that terrified me as a child."

Harry shook his head and sighed. "Look, Professor Lupin, I respect your decision to keep personal information to yourself, but don't insult my intelligence, please. I'm thirteen not three. That's probably the worst lie I've ever heard.

Remus sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Harry…"

"Like I said, you don't have to tell me," Harry said, raising a hand to stop his professor. "It's your business not mine. I just hope one day you'll feel comfortable telling me the truth."

Remus averted his eyes. "Thank you for not pushing further. And I'm sorry, I just don't feel comfortable with you knowing everything about me. At least not yet, Prongslet." He sighed once more. "I understand if you wish to be done for the night."

"No," Harry yelled, eyes widening. "I wanna be able to demolish a dementor if I ever come across one." He crossed his arms. "I'm not giving up just because you're keeping something from me. I mean if I gave up on something every time someone lied to me, I'd be a bum living on the streets, never able to practice magic cause I didn't know how."

"So, you still want to work with me?"

"Did you not just hear what I said?"

Remus laughed. "I didn't hear much after 'I wanna be able to demolish a dementor if I ever come across one'. I'm almost positive those are the exact words your father said when he decided to learn how to conjure a Patronus. Without the unnecessary expletives, of course." Remus's smile fell. "You do realize there isn't necessarily a way to 'demolish' dementors, right? The best you can do is defend yourself from them."

Harry scrunched his nose. "Yeah, well, if I can defeat Voldemort at the bright age of one-year-old, then I think my Patronus can demolish a dementor."

The professor shook his head. "What memory were you thinking of when you cast the spell? Maybe it wasn't strong enough."

The boy nibbled his lower lip. "The first time I rode a broom."

"My goodness, that's not strong enough. Is there any other happy memory you have that might be stronger?" Remus asked, his brow furrowing. "Think about a memory that not only is happy, but makes you feel your happiest and lightest. For example, I normally use the memory of your dad and our friends finally accepting me as their friend." He stared off, a small smile playing on his lips. "I grew up with no friends at all; someone accepting me for who I was happened to be a new, grand experience. Try something like that."

"Alright," Harry responded, "I can do that." Harry thought of a happier moment: Draco and Hermione laughing their heads off while they watched Finnegan and Zabini walk into the Great Hall in red and gold hair.

Remus let the Boggart out again. This time, when Harry said Expecto Patronum, a white wisp came out the end of his wand, just as the boy intended.

"Brilliant Harry, just brilliant," Remus said, clapping the boy on the back. "I knew you could do it!"

Harry smiled. "Thanks."

"Well, it's getting late and you have had a long, tiring night. Here, take some chocolate and get off to bed," the man said, handing the boy a piece of chocolate.

"Goodnight, Remus." Harry waved as the door to Remus' office closed.

"Goodnight," the man said, his smile dropping as he stared at the door. He snorted. How could he have missed so many years of this boy's life? And how could he ensure he would never miss more?