Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am not making any money off this.

Chapter 27

All My Happy Memories

1st December, 1998

She watched him, eyes trained on his slight figure as he asked Madam Pince how long he could keep the book.

"Two weeks," the librarian said, lips pinched together in distaste as she handed it over to him, looking as though she wanted to snatch it right back out of his hands.

It was a big, old book, probably around eight hundred yellow, aged pages long. Paperback and falling apart, with the kind of gothic lettering on the cover that was almost, but not quite, unreadable but elegant.

"Criminal law since the 1950s," she read aloud as Draco sat back down across from her, setting the book down on the table. "Do you want to look in law enforcement?"

He looked at her sharply, as though he thought she was mocking him. "No," he said, when he had ascertained that she wasn't. "I don't think they accept ex-Death Eaters, anyway."

She side-stepped that remark. "I read this book in third year," she said. "I think. When Buckbeak was going to be executed, I read all the books on law in the library to find a solution."

A shadow passed over Draco's face, and she remembered that that incident had been his fault. And how she had despised him, then.

"It's an interesting book," she said after an awkward pause. "Wasn't very useful to us back then, but some things were worth knowing anyway – for example, Kingsley is the fourth Minister to attempt to fire the Dementors from Azkaban. The three preceding were shot down by their own governments and had to resign after making the suggestion. And it's actually illegal to imprison people who haven't been tried yet in Azkaban."

"I know," Draco said. "But they made an exception for us Death Eaters. Parked us all together in the same cell the first night – wandless – a few of them had a go at each other, Muggle-style, though... I sat with Pansy and Theo."

Hermione winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to –"

"Remind me? You didn't. I was thinking of it anyway."

She said nothing. She could see he was going to talk anyway.

His eyes suddenly lost their focus. "It was awful. Azkaban... is the worst thing imaginable. Or was, when the Dementors were still there. You've felt them – you know what they do. Remember our third year, in the train? Picture that – feel it – and then imagine them constantly feeding on you for days and days, for weeks, until you can't think straight, until the only thought you have left is that you'll never feel happy again. You don't even know what being happy is anymore. My mother... kept screaming. For days." He laughed bitterly. "When they finally fired the Dementors, I could hardly recognise my own parents. They've never been the jolly type, but we were all so – so unhappy that we could hardly speak to each other. I never realised how happy I was during my childhood until they took it all away." He shuddered and marked a pause before continuing. "The other day, on the fifth floor, I heard something moving inside one of the classrooms. It was a cupboard, and I knew there was a Boggart inside. And I remembered our third year. I thought it would be fun to release the Boggart. In third year, I had found it easy to defeat. I can't even remember what it had turned into back then, but I..." He closed his eyes. "When the door opened, a Dementor came out. And I swear, I felt the exact same thing that I used to feel in Azkaban. It was like it was sucking out my very life and not only my happiness. And I heard – " He stopped, opened his eyes again and looked at her. "I – I just ran away from the room. I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't. How do you use Riddikulus on a Dementor?"

"You don't," Hermione said softly. "Harry had the same problem in third year. I remember you making fun of him."

He flinched at the memory.

"Professor Lupin taught him to cast a Patronus Charm, which is the only spell effective against Dementors."

He looked wary. "That's good magic, isn't it?"

"It's magic good people can do," she admitted, and lay a hand on his arm. "You could."

"How does it work?"

"It's based on – well, first you have to think of a memory. A very happy memory, the happiest you have. I – I usually picture my friends or my family, actually." She blushed, for some reason feeling as though this was a very personal revelation. "You have to concentrate on that memory as hard as you can... And then you say the incantation, and your Patronus – it looks like a silvery animal – shoots out of your wand and attacks – well, it's not really an attack – repels the Dementor."

"What animal?"

"It depends on the caster."

"What's yours?" he asked curiously.

She hesitated, again getting the feeling that it was a very personal question. "It's an otter," she said at last.

"Why?"

"Why?" she echoed, unsure of what he meant.

"What determines the shape a Patronus takes?"

She paused thoughtfully. "You know, I'm not really sure," she said finally. "I think, somehow, they reflect the caster's personality or feelings. Harry's Patronus is a stag, and so was his father's – I think the symbolism for that is noble, right? And it does suit him. His mother's was a doe, maybe because she loved his father. I've seen a Patronus change because its caster suffered from – from unrequited love, I suppose you would call it. A friend of mine had a dog Patronus, and he really was very loyal. I really think it has something to do with that." She stopped suddenly, realising that Draco was staring at her intently. "Draco? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." He was still staring, and that was when it hit her.

"Draco," she said slowly, "Do you want to learn the Patronus Charm?"

He was silent.

"I could teach you," she offered. "It's easier if someone is there with you. I know from experience – Harry taught us as a group in our fifth year. It's much easier to feel happy when you're surrounded by friends – even though it's also easier to feel embarrassed. You could bring a friend along if you wanted to."

He snorted at that. "A friend? I'm sure you'd appreciate Pansy's company. Not that she'd come if I asked her to," he added quickly when she made a face. "I've had a bit of a fall from grace in her eyes since – then. As for the others..." He shrugged. "I think they'd make me feel more uncomfortable than anything else."

She nodded. "I can understand that. But do you – would you want me to teach you?"

He looked at her again, and again she felt uncomfortable, as though his eyes could see far beyond the surface of her skin and deep into her soul. Then:

"I'd like that."

"Great," she said, breathing out and realising only then that she'd been holding her breath. "We can start now if you'd like. We don't need a Dementor at first – or even a Boggart. I learnt within the safety of the castle, and I could cast my Patronus just fine when I met a Dementor later on. So first, you have to –"

"Can I see your Patronus?"

It was her turn to stop and stare. "Oh. Um..."

Why was it that he could make her so uncomfortable? Within the space of five minutes, he had got her to tell him much more than she felt she should.

"I suppose so," she relented, and raised her wand, summoning up the memory she almost always used – the results of her OWLs. "Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing happened, and she stiffened in shock, staring at the end of her wand. She had been able to cast the spell during the Battle, amid dead bodies and spells shooting over her head. What was wrong with her? She pressed her lips tightly together and raised her wand again.

After a few seconds, her hand trembled, then lowered. She found she didn't know which memory to use. There, and then, within the safety of the Hogwarts grounds, it was proving more difficult to cast a Patronus than when faced with an army of Dementors during a war. A happy memory? They all seemed so far away... Her friends. When had she last seen Harry laugh? When had Ron last slung his arm around her shoulders? The memories were fuzzy, distant, and she couldn't quite conjure an image of Harry's genuine smile. She had to have seen one recently, but the fact that he was so often moody or unhappy erased the few memories of him smiling.

Her family, she thought. When she had gone to Australia to lift the memory charm. Her mother had cried out her name like she'd thought she'd never see her daughter again. Her father had hugged her... And she had been so happy.

She raised her wand again and said, in a confident voice, "Expecto Patronum!"

The silvery otter erupted from the end of her wand and immediately started frolicking around, leaping over Draco and jumping circles in the air, leaving temporary, silver traces behind it. Draco's face lit up as he gazed at her Patronus.

"It looks happy," he said.

"That's because there are no Dementors around," she joked. "She wants to play."

Draco reached out as though to stroke her otter, but as soon as the tip of his fingers brushed against the silvery back, the otter disappeared into thin air, vanished. He pulled back his hand and a shadow fell across his face.

"Don't take it personally," Hermione said, smiling. "They aren't pets." She pushed her wand back up her sleeve. "What's the happiest memory you can recall?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I told you," she said, "you need a really strong memory to cast a Patronus. It's what will give you the strength necessary to – it'll allow you to cast the spell. Patronuses are the... they're supposed to be a shield between you and the Dementor. They're guardians, I suppose. So think of a memory, the happiest memory you have."

"All my happy memories have already been eaten by the Dementors."

She shuddered. "That can't –"

"It can."

His expression was so dark that she believed him.

She squared her shoulders. "In that case, we'll just have to work on making new ones."

"New ones?"

"New memories," she clarified. "That will make you happy."

He shook his head. "I told you, I don't think –"

"Do you want to learn to cast a Patronus or not?" she cut him off. "I take it you do. So. Tell me what you're feeling right now."

"Annoyed," he said.

"Well that's not going to get us anywhere," she muttered. "What could make you happy, right this instant?"

He looked up at her, his eyes darkening with – something. "I don't know. I think – I mean, I don't usually mind our just talking."

"'Don't mind' won't quite cut it, you know. I don't know, do you like jokes? Reading? Does it make you happy to help someone with their homework? Or maybe you like ballroom dancing or something."

"Ballroom dancing? You can't be serious."

"You're not helping me."

He shook his head, then seemed thoughtful for a moment.

"Flying," he said finally. "I like flying."

"You are not getting me to do that," she warned him.

"Why not? I do like it. It's always made me feel good. Well, except when Potter caught the Snitch from right out under my nose."

"I am not getting on a broom for the sake of your having a good time."

"It's not like you'd have to, anyway. I don't think Quidditch is enough for what you've described."

"Maybe winning the Quidditch Cup?" she suggested.

A smile graced his features. "Oh, yeah. Definitely that."

She smiled back, because it was contagious. And then she remembered something.

"Oh," she said, "I'm so stupid. Of course!" She thrust her hand deep into the pocket of her robes and pushed a few pens out of the way. "I think I even have it on me..."

"What are you talking about?"

"This!" she said triumphantly, waving a folded piece of parchment under his nose. "It's funny, too. Harry sent it. It's about Teddy. Family," she said.

Draco just looked at her blankly. "Family?"

"Family makes people happy, right?" she said. "I thought of mine, just now, when I cast my Patronus. And babies make people laugh, too. We'll just have to make you some new memories with Teddy."

He stared at her for so long that the triumph began to rub off, replaced by a sinking feeling.

"What?"

His eyes flicked to the parchment in her hand. "Who's Teddy?"

Now is the good moment, I feel, to share something about symbolism. I don't often go into that kind of thing, but it seemed appropriate that since I was talking about Patronuses, I study Hermione's. Here is the most interesting (read: relevant) thing I found about the otter: She teaches people to relax, become a child again and enjoy life. Otter is a strong protector who helps people to find their inner treasures and hidden talents, gain wisdom, and to be able to recover from any crisis. See what I mean?

Got this from: suite101 – com / otter-pagan-symbolism-and-a-legend-a60379

Replace the – between suite, and com by ".", delete the space between the dash and the words and it should work.

I will update twice more next weekend, as I used to.