(NB: This section should be in Courier font but as the abomination that is ff net has made formatting stories a matter of knocking one's metaphorical head into one hideously ugly brick wall, this is not so. Since I've begun posting this story here, I will suffer through ff net's upload process until 'tis done, but any future stories will be posted elsewhere, notably at skyehawke net.
I take no responsibility for any confusion lack of formatting may cause. I can only lament it.)
9. Defence Against the Dark D's
I took a self-defence course. Times had been publicly acknowledged as bad for quite some time at that point and such pastimes flourished. Being confined to my flat, the office, and the occasional dull tea party or marginally festive cookery contest I was sent to cover, I had previously shunned such activity. Perhaps I felt unworthy of protection, even from myself.
But I did not attend this course to learn how to protect myself. Quite the opposite. I was well aware that, should I succeed, I was likely to put myself in more danger than ever before. Still, that treacherous road also led to possible success, and the Big Story. Thus, in keeping with the general direction of my research so far, I took a Patronus course.
Long before the reawakened discussion of ethical and moral aspects of the Dementors, the dark creatures had lodged themselves firmly in the public consciousness, not least due to their repeated attacks on the very symbol of Wizarding Goodness, the Boy Who Lived. The Dementors were more tangible monsters than the Death Eaters - and ones you could vanquish with a charm. A charm that worked for any occasion, if you could just learn to perform it.
In fact, specific Patronus courses were, and may still be, far more popular than the more general Defence Against the Dark Arts courses. There was just the one charm to master and one foe to wield it against.
Dementors, unlike Death Eaters, did neither cunning nor subterfuge well. In that, at least, it could not be denied but they were plain-dealing villains. Dementors, unlike Death Eaters, knew of neither shields nor curses. If you mastered the Patronus, you need not worry about being too ignorant to defend yourself; only whether or not your strength would suffice. The Patronus was, in all its simplicity, once mastered, the blunt weapon of the slow masses.
Dementors, unlike Death Eaters, did not turn out to be your next-door neighbour.
Dementors - dark, ominous, and simple-minded - turned into everyone's favourite monster, a count Dracula to be kept at bay with garlic and wooden stakes while the more earthly landlords leached the land through intangible shrewdness and political machinations. And as it has been throughout all of humanity's times of trial, there were people ready to profit on people's fear, to sell garlic and amulets, to teach the Patronus charm to those who had never grasped or been taught it at school.
And such a man was Henry Witherto, a spell researcher in desperate need of funding for his erratic and eccentric attempts to re-shape common spells and re-create lost ones. I chose his particular course not based on any shining reputation but rather on the gossip that filtered through the other groups I visited. Witherto was rumoured to be absent-minded enough to forget to turn up to his own sessions and ill-tempered enough to publicly chastise students for what he perceived as dull-wittedness. Of aristocratic lineage, Witherto had little patience for the very type of people his courses were aimed at: poorly educated commoners. However, he was also rumoured to be obsessed with the Patronus charm and, by default, the Dementors. In short, just the man I wanted.
Though, I must admit, I did start to doubt myself - more than usual even - after a few sessions with my ill-mannered teacher.