Chapter 14

Mixed Blessings

It was easy waking up that morning. Sleeping had been the hard part. Bella had tossed and turned all night, lying awake for long stretches of time with uneasy dream between. She was up and dressed in a flash, and spent an agonisingly long time loitering around the common room waiting for Draco to come down. As soon as she saw him, she caught him by the arm and pulled him aside.

"I need to talk to you," she whispered. "Now."

He followed her to an isolated corner, looking curious and a little apprehensive. "About what?"

Bella told him what had happened last night. When she'd finished, his eyes were as big as saucers. "But Draco, you can't tell anyone, if this got around..." She trailed off into a meaningful silence.

He nodded. "What are we waiting for? Let's get down there before the post comes." He spoke breathlessly, as if the same thing had occurred to him as it had to her.

Faster than necessary and slower than they would have liked, Bella and Draco hurried down to the Great Hall. The first owl came soaring in as Bella was buttering toast and she nearly dropped it in her lap as the creature landed. Draco took the paper, and Bella paid for it. As he unfolded it, Bella saw the most indescribable expression cross his face.

He was flushed and had his lower lip pressed between his teeth, and his hands were nearly shaking as he spread the paper on the table. "Bella, look at this!"

Bella's eyes widened as she took in the front page. "Prison Break from Azkaban..." she read in a whisper, scanning down the article. "You were right, Draco..."

The article was subtitled, High security prisoners escape, in second Azkaban break in two years.

Draco looked like he was about to start singing. Bella kept reading.

"The wizarding world holds its breath this morning as the search begins for the perpetrators of last night's breach of Azkaban security. A number of prisoners escaped from the island fortress last night, most of whom were the Death Eaters apprehended earlier this year in the Ministry of Magic. It can be assumed that their escape was the purpose of the break in, as three of the five other prisoners counted missing have been apprehended, and the others will most probably be accounted for before the day is out. But there has been no sign or sighting of the escaped Death Eaters, among them the condemned prisoner Lucius Malfoy..."

Bella stopped reading. The rest of the page was filled with photographs of Lucius Malfoy and his fellow Death Eaters, looking daggers out of their little mug shots. For a moment she couldn't focus her eyes. She looked up at Draco, who was smiling.

"I told you," he said quietly. "I knew they'd get out!"

But Bella didn't answer. Something at the bottom of the page had caught her eye.

"Considering the methods used to break out of the fortress, authorities are certain that outside help was necessary. Robed and masked Death Eaters were seen fleeing the scene, but attempts to apprehend them failed. The Death Eaters managed to get out past the Apparition wards around the island before Ministry Aurors could catch up to them. Some were believed to be injured by curses while escaping, and the Ministry has issued warnings to all curse breakers and magical infirmaries to report anyone under an Auror Curse to the proper authorities immediately. The Ministry has advised them to use extreme caution dealing with them..."

Bella raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly. She pointed to the paragraph and said in an offhand, half mocking voice, "Gracious, Draco, look here. We ought to be careful." She shook her head and lowered her voice, even though the hall was nearly empty. "I guess I did save Snape a lot of trouble."

"How did you know about Snape? Did mother tell you he was...?"

She shook her head. "There's some things I don't need to be told. I know an Auror curse when I see one."

"Brilliant, Bella," said Draco, shaking his head. "You're good."

She smiled a little, but said nothing. She ate her toast thoughtfully; it felt like the heavy lead weight was disappearing from her insides. The hall was filling up slowly, as the other students came trickling in. School didn't start until tomorrow, but they weren't the only ones who had come back early. Many parents of students seemed to think this was the safest place for their children, now that Voldemort was back. She was looking around at the others. It seemed as though no one else had picked up the paper yet. He's free, she thought happily. He's out and he's safe...well, mostly, anyway... Her thoughts were happy for now. She knew the escape boded very ill for a lot of people, but it still hadn't sunk in. For now, Bella was content to be glad for Draco, and glad for Mr. Malfoy. She was glad to see the dull, deadened edge that Draco had had for weeks disappearing. He seemed awake and alive again.

As the hall filled up, though, more post owls came, some bearing newspapers. She watched as a few others at other tables unfolded theirs, watched their faces as they read, exclaimed, and showed the paper to others. She watched as heads turned in their direction, and turned quickly away as she met their frightened eyes.

"Draco, look," she said, nodding toward the Gryffindor table. Potter and his two friends were sitting there, heads close together, talking. Hermione Granger shot a look over her shoulder at them, and quickly turned back when she met Bella's eyes.

"I'd like to know what they think they can do about it," he growled. "It'll go badly for any that try..."

Bella nodded, but felt her spirits dip a little.

She didn't wish harm on anyone at this school. She didn't want to see Muggle-borns tortured and killed. Of course she didn't want that...but now to hope that the Dark Lord would be defeated, that would spell ruin for the Malfoys, and she couldn't live with that. If Voldemort were to be defeated again, perhaps to truly die this time, there were many who wouldn't rest until the Death Eaters were all dead or locked away. The desperate loyalty she felt for the Malfoys was terrible.

Her mind went in circles like this for a long time. The thought of Voldemort's return scared her, but not in the way it scared most wizards. It wouldn't go badly for her, or the people she cared about the most. Not as though she or Draco had anything to fear from the Death Eaters. But of course her conscience wouldn't let it rest at that. She felt like a terrible person when she thought about all the innocent people who would suffer, and felt worse that she was putting the few she loved above the many she had never even seen. But it was hard to make the honourable choice, to hope for the personal sacrifice, to admit that hundreds of lives were too high a price to pay for a handful of people, even if she loved them. Bella had to admit it, though. She was selfish. She knew how she'd feel if any harm came to them. She privately swore she'd do anything to protect Draco and his family, even if she died trying. She reflected that it was a strange kind of selfishness, but she'd never been good at lying to herself.

Bella couldn't escape a deep feeling of foreboding as she walked to Carmichael's class the next day. Looking at Draco, she could tell he felt the same. Neither of them wanted to spend the next hour being told the horrible danger they were in, with Draco's father on the loose and all.

Oddly enough, though, Professor Carmichael didn't dwell on the prison break at all. He seemed to have something else up his sleeve.

"I'm sure the breakout from Azkaban is on everyone's minds today. I admit it's disconcerting. I've decided that, because of the circumstances, I'm going to alter my lesson plan for the next few weeks. We will be studying dementors."

There was a murmur in the room. People shifted nervously. Bella remembered Draco telling her that the school had been patrolled by dementors before. The teacher lifted his hand and the room fell silent.

"I'm sure you all know the reason Azkaban is so feared is that it's staffed by dementors. Until recently, we thought that was enough, but apparently it's not. They are not infallible. But to those who don't know how to protect themselves, or who are without wands, they are still a terrible thing. They feed on happiness, and will drain all the pleasant thoughts, all the happy memories from the humans around them. Many of the inmates in Azkaban go mad because of this. Of course, some do not. The prisoners who escaped last night, and the ones who managed it last year, were obviously sane enough. Some had been there for twelve, thirteen years.

"There are ways to defend yourself against dementors. The Death Eaters know them. You would do well to learn them too, and that is what I plan to teach you. Can anyone name one?"

Hermione Granger's hand shot up. "The Patronus Charm, sir."

"Yes, I'm sure many of you have heard of the Patronus. It is a shield, a concentrated projection of happiness to hold off a dementor. In more advanced forms, it will take the shape of an- animal, usually one with some special significance to the one who casts it. Can anyone give me another example? I'm thinking of a very specific one."

No hands went up this time. After a moment, Granger put up her hand. "But the Patronus is the only way to repel a dementor...isn't it?" It was the first time Bella had ever heard the girl sound uncertain.

"Ah!" Carmichael brought his hands together with a loud clap. "Yes, the very word. Repelling a dementor is not always necessary. If you find yourself wandless, it will not be possible. They will fill you with fear, with despair and sadness and self-hatred. They will steal your will to exist if you let them. But if you cannot repel one, you may still be able to resist it. I suggest you take notes on this.

"Happy memories fuel the Patronus. But in resistance, there is a whole new focus. Most people think that dementors will steal everything from you except your worst memories, and leave nothing but those behind. This isn't entirely true. Powerful memories come to the surface first, and they stay there, tormenting us. But your minds are made up of more than just joy and despair. The key to resisting the dementor's power is not magical, but mental. You must bring up a memory that is neither happy nor sad, that doesn't evoke any strong emotion in you at all, something that a dementor wouldn't want to take from you. That is why this is so difficult.

"It is much easier to think of your happy moments than it is to fill you mind with a memory that means nothing to you. It must be something boring or mundane, like chewing gum, or making a list. Do you see what this accomplishes?"

This time two hands went up. Bella's was one of them, a little to her own surprise.

Carmichael looked at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Please explain, Miss Thorne."

She took a deep breath. "If your mind is full of something mundane, like some little pointless, boring thought, it will put you in a sort of middle ground. You won't be happy, so it won't be able to take that from you. But at the same time you're keeping the really terrible memories out by putting all your energy towards thinking about, oh, I don't know, tobacco or pocket lint or something." Bella understood it quite well, but wondered why it had never occurred to her. It seemed so simple, in theory at least.

The teacher nodded. "Very good, Miss Thorne. This is a very difficult thing to do. It takes a great deal of patience and focus to force yourself to be bored when your first reaction is one of paralysing fear and sadness. As hard as the Patronus is, many wizards find it easier than this." He paused as if to assess their reaction to his speech. Many of the students were scribbling down notes or whispering to their neighbours.

Draco leaned over and whispered, "Do you think you'd be able to do that in front of a dementor?"

Bella shook her head, wide eyed. "I get really confused around them. It's like I don't know who I am, or where, or when I am." She thought this was the best way of describing what she felt, without being too specific.

Draco looked at her thoughtfully. "I've never heard of that happening to anyone before. But I've never seen anyone do quite what you did, back at Azkaban...Some people faint, but you didn't really..." He picked up his quill and picked at it idly. Then, in a low whisper, he said, "If you'd let me, I think there's someone I can ask."

Bella looked at him, a bit surprised. "Who? And can I trust them?"

"I'm talking about Snape. You know he wants to teach this class, he probably knows more about the Dark Arts than any teacher we've ever had. And he would know about this."

"Then, yeah, I guess so," she whispered back. "Do you really know him that well, to ask advice and everything?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'll tell you later."

"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Thorne! I'll thank you not to talk out of turn in my classroom. Miss Thorne, ten points from Slytherin, and see me after class." Professor Carmichael was looking at them and smiling patiently, but his voice was growing dangerous. Bella said nothing in her own defence, knowing she'd only get in deeper. Draco looked like he was going to speak up, but she elbowed him in the ribs, not wanting to get either of them in more trouble. She only nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

Then to Bella's annoyance he went on, as if nothing had happened. "This week we will be mostly discussing theory. Be ready to take notes and be patient. If I find that you understand the homework I give you over the weekend thoroughly, next week we will move on to the practical. That means the strength of your mind and character will be tested to my standards, and I warn you that they are high. But for now, let's move on.

"There is one way of Binding a dementor so that, not only will it not attack you, it will be rendered helpless until the magic is broken. Have any of you ever heard of this?"

No one raised their hand.

"As I thought. It was developed from the Patronus Charm, and it is called the Patronus Entrapment. But it must be prepared in advance and comes at a high cost to its caster. Since the Patronus is a shield made of happiness, based in a powerful memory, the Entrapment must have a memory to spring from in order to work. One must remove the memory from your mind and place it into a Penseive, and speak the incantation over it. A small Patronus will appear in the Penseive, and can be moved to a small container, like one of these." He gestured to a number of small bottles and phials on his desk. "Open or break the bottle and the Patronus will emerge, without having to cast the spell. It will encircle the dementor and trap it inside for the rest of its life, if no one breaks the charm. And bear in mind, no one is entirely certain how long dementors live. I'm sure this seems wonderfully convenient, but as I said, it comes at a high price to the memory. The Patronus needs that memory to fuel itself indefinitely, even when the wizard who cast it had left, or even died. While the caster will be aware of that memory, and will recall that memory like any other, it will have none of its emotional power. They will never be able to conjure that Patronus from it again, and will essentially lose one of their happiest moments."

Bella thought of her best memories. How awful that someone would have to choose which one to lose, which of their most treasured moments they would never feel again. The very idea made her a little uncomfortable.

"Obviously, because of the dementors' role as guards of Azkaban, such a powerful weapon against them is strictly controlled by the Ministry. It shouldn't be attempted without Ministry approval. Before we made our peace with the dementors, we used it against them. If they break faith with us, it may need to be used again. Understand it and learn to use it, but hope that you never have to."

He went on about the Patronus Entrapment for a while, taking questions from the class. Even Draco had to admit it had been worth hearing. But by the end of it, Bella was eager to get on to Potions, and resentful for having to stay after class, only wanting it to be done with for the day. She wanted a chance to make a better study of Professor Snape, and now she was going to be late for it, damn it all.

As the bell rang, Bella whispered to Draco, "Go on ahead, don't wait up. Get to Potions and I'll meet you there. At least you'll get to see the look on everyone's face."

He did as she asked, casting a foul look at Professor Carmichael as he left. Bella walked quietly up to his desk. He looked up as she approached and smiled thinly. "Ah, Miss Thorne. I'm afraid I've decided to give you a detention, and it falls to me to arrange it." He sighed a little, as though he was doing her a favour and felt very put upon. "I hope you take this as a warning, and will address yourself to my class when you're in it, and not distract t those around you. It seems that I have a number of books being shipped here tonight. I want you to help me sort and shelve them, and have a peek into what we'll be studying this term. I trust that suits you?"

"It does, sir, though I don't think I'm in a place to complain."

"Very good. Where is that...?" He began shuffling through the papers on his desk, looking for the detention form.

Bella saw it shoved off to the side, buried under other papers and upside down. "Here it is, sir," she said, picking it up and handing it to him. She was surprised when he looked up at her, with a strange, complex expression on his face.

She had seen Professor Carmichael angry, suspicious, and even sad before. But now the look in his eyes might have almost been fear. In a moment it was gone like the shadow of a thin cloud, but Bella would not be forgetting it soon.

"Did I tell you to give me this? Why do you think I wanted this form?"

"I thought, you know..." she foundered, not knowing how to respond. It had just seemed like the right thing to do. "I thought you wanted the detention form." She felt like an idiot. She'd never had detention before, she didn't know if it was the right one... But he had wanted that bloody form, she knew he had...He was frowning at her, and filling out the form she'd given him. He rolled it up, sealed it, and put it in his desk.

"Be here at seven sharp."

She nodded, and turned to leave. He called after her. "And Miss Thorne? I wouldn't try that again."

"I, er, yes, sir, I promise I won't," she said over her shoulder, walking out the door, not looking back again.

As she rushed down to Potions, Bella felt her detached dislike for Professor Carmichael growing into an apprehensive, personal grudge. She was grinding her teeth at the injustice of his punishment when she reached the dungeon classroom seconds before the bell rang.

When she entered the room she could feel a palpable change in the room. The Gryffindor side of the room looked like they were facing a firing squad. And sure enough, the dark figure of Professor Snape was standing at the front of the class. He turned as she entered, and looked at her without much concern.

"Good afternoon, Miss Thorne. Please take your seat, and we shall begin." Good, emotionless voice, with only mild interest, no trace of recognition. She went and took her seat next to Draco.

She lifted an eyebrow to Draco and saw him smile and nod. It was only when she had stopped worrying about being late to class and angry at Professor Carmichael that her mind drifted back to his last words to her. There had been something in his tone that alarmed her, and she knew he hadn't been talking about disrupting class. What did he think she was trying to do?

She took out her parchment and quill, and listened to Professor Snape lecturing. A Death Eater, teaching at Hogwarts...They were good at what they did, weren't they? This was supposed to be the safest place they could be, the one place where the students could feel protected from the dangers of the outside world...All of a sudden, Bella felt shivers running up her spine, like what they say happens when someone walks over your grave. Just then, the world looked very dark.