January/February 1994.

"The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry – well beyond ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."

By the time the students returned to Hogwarts for the rest of the year, the three of them hadn't found any jinxes on the broom. Remus was sitting on a chair watching Flitwick muttering spells and waving his wand over the Firebolt. The broom gave no reaction whatsoever.

Remus rested his head on his hands. He barely dared confess it to the other two, but he was getting tired of trying out spells which gave no reaction anyway. He actually suspected that the broom wasn't jinxed or hexed after all.

Flitwick threw his old copy of Bewitch your Broom on the pile of spellbooks. "Nothing yet," he sighed.

"Try the next book," professor McGonagall said. She had rolled up the sleeves of her robes and she looked tired and irritated. "There must be something."

"Just a stupid suggestion," Remus cut in. He couldn't help himself, he had to say it. "But what if the broom isn't hexed at all? I mean, with which wand could he´ve done it? He lost his wand when he went to Azkaban."

McGonagall gave him a long, thoughtful look. "That may be so," she said finally. "But we can never be careful enough. You do agree with that, don't you?"

"Of course  do," he said hastily. Somehow she had managed to get him into the position of the suspect, and he felt defensive. He glanced at the clock above the door, and suddenly found a way out. "Uhm, excuse me, but it's almost time for my first class. I really have to go."

He sneaked out of the room. It wasn't really professor-like to run away like that, but hey, who said I was perfect?

~*~

The Gryffindor third-years slowly left the room, one by one, chatting about their classes, what was for diner; the usual schooltalk really. Remus was packing his briefcase when he noticed that someone was standing next to his desk. He looked up and saw Harry waiting there, a shy smile on his face.

"Hello Harry. Do you want to ask me something?"

"Uhm, yes. You know, you promised me you would help me against the Dementors…"

"Ah yes," Remus said. He remembered again. "Let me see…" He thought for a moment about the best time and place. "How about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough… I´ll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this… we can't bring a real Dementor into the castle to practice on…" He shrugged the thought off. He'd find a way somehow.

"Okay, thank you," said Harry. "Thursday evening, eight o'clock, History of Magic classroom. I´ll be there."

"See you then, Harry." The black-haired boy left with his friend Ron, who had been waiting for him at the door.

Now where do I get a substitute for a Dementor? Remus wondered.

~*~

The answer presented itself. On Wednesday morning, Remus was just on his way from the Great Hall to his classroom, when he saw Filch standing in the hallway, looking more murderous than usual.

"Professor Lupin," he half-growled. Since this was nothing different from his usual greeting, Remus wished him a good morning and wanted to walk on, but was stopped by Filch.

"What?" Remus asked, slightly irritated.

"I, uhm, have something I´d like you to take a look at." It was obvious that the man felt uncomfortable asking Remus for something, let alone help.

"How long is it going to take?" Remus asked matter-of-factly.

"Only a few minutes," Filch answered, reluctantly. "It's in my office."

~*~

The filing cabinet wobbled dangerously and a few drawers threatened to come out.

"Congratulations," said Remus. "You've got yourself a Boggart in there."

"I know," grunted Filch. "Just get him out will you."

"You got a box for me?"

"Why?"

"Well, to put it in of course! I can use a Boggart for my classes, but I can hardly keep him in my pocket, can I?"  Well, I already covered Boggarts in my classes, but I can surely use them as a substitute for a Dementor in Harry's extra anti-Dementor lessons…

Filch glared at Remus in a way that made the latter think that the caretaker, if he could, would gladly try and punish him for something stupid as 'making sense' or something. But alas, since Remus was a teacher and no longer a student, Filch had nothing left to do than find a box and hand it over to Remus.

Remus yanked the filing cabinet open. Files scattered all over the floor, but he paid no attention to that. A brightly glowing orb rose almost majestically from the cabinet. The office seemed to darken and the only light came from the full moon-Boggart.

Filch watched, mouth slightly ajar and completely forgotten by Remus, how the Defence Against the Dark Arts grabbed the box and used a simple spell to push the Boggart into the box. Remus closed the lid firmly.

"Well, that was it," he said cheerfully. "Thank you very much."

Filch seemed to came back to life with a shudder. "Hm, well, yeah," he grunted, not sure what to say. "Now, get out, I have more important things to do. Have too clean up this mess." He ducked and started to pick up all the files from the floor.

Remus picked up the box with the Boggart. It was amazing how light the box was, as if there was practically nothing in it. He carried it to his office and stored it there for tomorrow evening.

~*~

When Remus arrived at the History of Magic classroom that Thursday evening, Harry had already arrived. The boy watched curiously how Remus heaved the box on professor Binn´s desk.

"What's that?" Harry asked curiously.

"Another Boggart," said Remus. He stripped off his cloak and hung it over Binn´s chair. "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. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."

"Okay," said Harry. He sounded careful, as if he wasn't really sure whether he was going to like this anti-Dementor lesson or not.

"So..." Remus had taken his own wand from his pocket. He gestured that Harry should do the same. "The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry – well beyond ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."

"How does it work?" said Harry nervously.

"Well, when it works correctly, It conjures up a Patronus," Remus explained, "which is a kind of anti-Dementor – a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the Dementor."

Harry looked as if he was trying to imagine what it would look like. It made Remus wonder – each Patronus is different. What would Harry's look like?

"The Patronus is a kind of positive force," he continued, "a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon – hope, happiness, the desire to survive – but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."

"What does a Patronus look like?" said Harry curiously. Exactly what Remus had been wondering.

"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it."

"And how do you conjure it?"

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

Harry was silent for a while, trying to think up a happy memory. Remus watched his green eyes shift from left to the right as the boy was deep in thought.

"Right," he said finally, his face determined. He looked unnervingly much like James, so much in fact that, for a moment, Remus had a lump in his throat.

"The incantation is this –" he cleared his throat. "Expecto patronum!"

"Expecto patronum, " Harry repeated softly, "Expecto patronum."

"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?"

"Oh – yeah –" said Harry; he had obviously forgotten it. "Expecto patrono – no, patronum – sorry – expecto patronum, expecto patronum"

Suddenly, a wisp of something silvery shot out of the tip of Harry's wand. "Did you see that?" he said excitedly. "Something happened!"

"Very good," Remus complimented him. He smiled; Harry's enthusiasm was infectious. "Right, then – ready to try it on a Dementor?"

"Yes," Harry said. He gripped his wand tightly and moved to the centre of the classroom. His face was set but his eyes were moving nervously from one side to the other.

Remus fought back the strange urge to say "on the count of three", he grasped the lid of the box and pulled it off. He stepped back, making sure the Boggart didn't see him, so it wouldn't change into the moon.

A Dementor rose from the box. It turned its hooded face towards Harry, and one scabbed hand gripped its cloak. A sudden chill filled the classroom, and the lights flickered and went out. Remus instinctively reached for his wand, and he had to keep himself from rushing forward and fighting the Dementor himself. He kept telling himself that everything was save, that Harry had to learn what to do in front of one of these creatures.

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto –" His voice drawled off as the Dementor got nearer. Harry's breath got ragged, his eyes rolled upwards in his head and he dropped on the floor, unconscious.

Remus cursed loudly. That got the Boggart´s attention, and he turned towards Remus, still in Dementor-form. It suddenly vanished when it changed into the moon again. Remus pushed it back into the box with a spell and then paid no attention whatsoever to the creature. He waved with his wand and lit the lamps again with an angry lumos. Then he bent down next to Harry. "Harry!"

The boy blinked and opened his eyes. Beads of sweat shone on his forehead and his breathing was fast and shallow. "Sorry," he said. He sat up again.

"Are you all right?" Remus asked, eyeing Harry concernedly.

"Yes..." Harry pulled himself up on one of the desks and leaned against it. Remus took a bag with chocolatefrogs from the pocket of his cloak and handed Harry one.

"Here – eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it your first time; in fact, I would have been astounded if you had."

"It's getting worse," Harry muttered, biting off the Frog's head. "I could hear her louder that time – and him – Voldemort."

Remus could almost feel the blood leaving his face. "Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand –"

"I do!" said Harry, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. "I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!"

"All right then... " said Remus. He was slightly taken aback. Somehow he had a feeling that it was not really right to think Quidditch more important that your own health, or even life, but he didn't dare criticise Harry. He couldn't help it, he kept comparing the younger Potter with his father, and to James, Quidditch had been just as important. "You might want to select another memory," he said, "a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on.... That one doesn't seem to have been strong enough...."

Harry thought deeply again and finally nodded. He got in position in the middle of the classroom again.

"Ready?" said Remus, gripping the box lid.

"Ready," said Harry. His green eyes were set, and the only sign of his nervousness was his slightly ragged breathing.

"Go!" said Remus. He pulled off the lid again. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Dementor glided forward, drawing its breath; one rotting hand was extending toward Harry –

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto Pat –" It was useless. The Dementor glided forward, and once again Harry's eyes rolled upwards and he fainted. Remus cursed again and forced the Boggart back into its box. He lit the lights and crouched besides Harry. The black hair was wet and sweaty. His eyes were close and his face white. He looked as if he had died… a memory of another day, another place suddenly came up in Remus' mind…

~*~

The uncomfortable feeling of new leather shoes on your feet, the soft clicking of feet on a stone floor… a murmuring in the background. He shivered in the cold that would never completely go away. The soft talking fell away when he stepped forward and he felt alone as he walked towards an almost stage-like platform with two coffins on it. Both were almost totally covered with flowers. The lids were open.

It felt like a dream when he walked on. All sound had disappeared to – somewhere. When he got nearer he could see black hair, a face came into view. The hands were folded on the chest. The nails were cleaner than they had usually been, when the hands had still been alive. Although the mouth had been charmed so it would stay closed, the lips were slightly parted, as if the lungs could continue breathing any moment. The eyes were closed but there were glasses placed on the nose.

He remembered thinking that it was a good thing that they had put the glasses back on, because James couldn't see without them, and that was obviously a stupid thought, as the eyes would never need to see again…

He extended his hand to push the glasses a little higher on the nose. The skin was cold –

~*~

and moist with sweat. Remus tapped Harry on the face, trying to wake the boy up. "Harry! Harry… wake up…" He tapped harder and finally Harry blinked and came back. 

"I heard my dad," Harry mumbled, sounding still a bit dizzy and far off. "That's the first time I've ever heard him – he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it...." He bowed his head and tied up his shoelace, but Remus had seen that there had been tears on his face. Then he fully realised what Harry had said.

"You heard James?" he said with a tight throat.

"Yeah..." Face dry, Harry looked up. "Why – you didn't know my dad, did you?"

"I – I did, as a matter of fact," said Remus. "We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry – perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced... I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this...."

"No!" said Harry. He got up again. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is.... Hang on...." He frowned, thinking hard, and suddenly his face lit up. He went back to the middle of the classroom.

"Ready?" said Remus. God, what am I doing?" Concentrating hard? All right – go!" He pulled off the lid again. The Dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark

'EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The Dementor advanced at Harry again, but this time he didn't faint. Harry kept yelling the incantation, and suddenly a huge, silvery, shadow-like… thing came bursting out of the end of Harry's wand. It hovered between Harry and the Dementor. Harry's face shone with sweat, and his knuckles were white, but he did not faint. Remus decided that it was enough, and he stepped forward. "Riddikulus!" he roared. The head of the Dementor jerked in Remus' direction. There was a loud crack, and the Dementor vanished, together with the Dementor. Remus forced the glowing moon back into the packing case while Harry collapsed on a chair.

"Excellent!" Remus said. He walked towards Harry, feeling terribly relieved that it was over and that Harry had made it. "Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!"

"Can we have another go? Just one more go?" Harry looked pleadingly, but Remus was determined.

"Not now," he said. "You've had enough for one night. Here – " He handed Harry a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate he had bought the day before. "Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?"

"Okay," said Harry. He took a bite of the chocolate while Remus extinguished the lamps that had lit again when the Dementor had disappeared.

 "Professor Lupin?" Harry suddenly said. "If you knew my dad, you must've known Sirius Black as well." The question startled Remus and he turned around quickly.

"What gives you that idea?" he said sharply. Who told him that? What else had that person told Harry? How much does he know?

"Nothing – I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too...."

Remus relaxed. Harry's expression told him that the boy was telling the truth, that he wasn't holding anything back. But that didn't mean it was a subject he liked to discuss.

"Yes, I knew him," he said shortly. "Or I thought I did. You'd better be off, Harry, it's getting late." Harry nodded and he said goodbye to Remus. He left the classroom and closed the door softly behind him.

~*~

January turned almost unnoticeably into February. Slytherin beat Ravenclaw in the first match of the new term, and if Gryffindor could beat Ravenclaw, they would be the second on the list. Remus could feel Harry's desire to win the Quidditch cup during the anti-Dementor lessons.

That desire was also visible in Harry's anger when, after four weeks of practice, he still couldn't produce a good Patronus, one that could really drive the Dementor away.

"You're expecting too much of yourself," said Remus sternly when Harry pulled a disappointed face. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"

I thought a Patronus would – charge the Dementors down or something," said Harry dispiritedly. "Make them disappear –"

"The true Patronus does do that," said Remus. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, You will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."

"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," said Harry.

"I have complete confidence in you," said Remus, smiling. "Here – you've earned a drink –

 something from the Three Broomsticks. You won't have tried it before –" He pulled two bottles out of his briefcase. He remembered from his own schooldays how a bottle of Butterbeer could cheer you up.

"Butterbeer!" said Harry, as if he had drunk it a thousand times before. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"

Remus raised an eyebrow. How can he know what it tastes like when he is most definitely not allowed in Hogsmeade?

Harry must've seen Remus' expression, because he quickly said: "Oh – Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade."

I see," Remus said, still feeling a bit suspicious. He raised his bottle. "Well – let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw!" He suddenly remembered that he was not a student, but a teacher. "Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher... "

They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the Butterbeer. Remus was sitting on the edge of his desk, swinging his legs. Suddenly, Harry broke the silence.

"What's under a Dementor's hood?" he asked curiously. Remus had just been taking a gulp of Butterbeer, and he lowered his bottle thoughtfully.

"Hmmm... well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us," he said. " You see, the Dementor lowers its hood only to use its last and worst weapon."

"What's that?"

"They call it the Dementor's Kiss," said Remus. His face twisted in a bitter smile. Some kiss it is…  "It's what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and – and suck out his soul."

Harry had just taken another gulp of Butterbeer and he accidentally spat some out when he heard this. "What – they kill – ?"

"Oh no," Remus said. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no... anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever... lost." He drank some more Butterbeer, then continued: "It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him." He had read it at breakfast that morning. In fact, it had been Snape who had handed him the Daily Prophet with a twisted smile on his face. That smile alone had given Remus the feeling that something was wrong. It was obvious that Snape totally agreed with giving Sirius the Dementor´s Kiss, and Remus agreed with him – at least a part of him did. Another part of him still doubted, still couldn't believe it…

Harry was apparently thinking about this as well. He suddenly said: "He deserves it."

"You think so?" said Remus. He tried to keep his voice lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

"Yes," said Harry. "For... for some things..." He seemed to be wanting to tell Remus something, but instead he finished his Butterbeer, thanked Remus for it, and left the classroom.

Remus stayed behind. He remained on the desk, swaying his legs, the empty bottle in his hands. For some things… He remembered how he had wished Sirius dead, just after James and Lily had died. He had hated Sirius so much then, so much that he would've killed him barehandedly if he had had the chance. But now, twelve years later… he wasn't so sure.

He lifted the bottle to his mouth and then remembered he had already emptied it. He put it back in his briefcase, gathered his things and left the History of Magic classroom.