The next morning at breakfast, Harry got an owl. It was a note from Dumbledore.
Share this with no one.
Acid lolly.
Harry folded up the slip of paper and put it in his pocket. He smiled and filled his plate with food.
"Finally!" Hermione said, looking over at him.
Harry looked up. "What?" He said, his mouth full.
Hermione grinned. "You're eating." She pointed at his plate. "We were beginning to worry."
"Hermione," Ron said, "we weren't beginning to worry. You already were worried."
Harry shrugged. "I was hungry."
Ron clapped him on the back. "Good to have you back, mate."
Harry studied more than he ever had before. He wasn't ready to fight Voldemort, but he would be. He knew he would. He began his Occlumency lessons with Snape again. He did not want to; in fact, he dreaded it; but Harry knew it was necessary. The year before he had not practiced it because he thought it was doing more harm than good. If he had listened to Dumbledore and practiced, Sirius would still be alive.
So Harry studied. Every week, he met Snape in the Potions dungeon, under the alias that he was taking remedial Potions lessons, the same as the year before, and pushed himself through his lesson. They were terrible. Harry found himself in excruciating pain on an weekly basis, but he got better. Voldemort was not evading Harry's dreams, but if he had been, Harry would have been able to stop him. His scar prickled less often, and after a few months of the training, he realized he did not feel Voldemort's 'mood swings' anymore.
There was no new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts that year. No soul would touch the position. Dumbledore taught it as best he could, teaching the older students, and the younger students whenever he found time, but he was very busy, what with the school, his position in the Wizengamot and in the Ministry, and with the Order. Other teachers helped him out when they did not have classes; Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick.
Harry did all his homework. He worked with Hermione in the library every day, and Ron even joined them most of the time. Harry worked the most on his Defence Against the Dark Arts. He practiced with Dumbledore himself every day, perfecting his spells, his deflections, his charms. Anything that would help him against Voldemort.
He, Hermione, and Ron discussed beginning the D.A. again, but decided against, it, knowing that Dumbledore would give them a proper education in Defence Against the Dark Arts without taking up their spare time.
Harry wasn't allowed out of the Gryffindor common room alone, nor was he allowed out after dark without a teacher. This meant that he got a lot more studying done – he couldn't spend his days wandering around, or spend his evenings doing things like visiting friends (not that Harry had any outside of Gryffindor other than Hagrid) or going out after dark on any of his adventures (not that much of that interested him anymore).
The annual early Quiddich practices began. The only problem was, some of their best players had graduated: Alicia, Angelina, Fred, and George were all gone - Harry, Ron, Ginny, Katie, Kirk, and Sloper were left. Of course, they were eager to get rid of Kirke and Sloper, who had only been put into action when over half of the Gryffindor team had been kicked off. While Harry was glad to have something to think of other than school work, he worried that the team wouldn't be able to find three new strong players as they couldn't do it the year before – though he was glad not to have to think about a new captain. Katie got the job.
Worried or not, Harry was glad to be in the air for practice. It had been such a long time since Harry had played, since Umbridge hadn't let him play the year before. He did a few barrel rolls in the air before settling down and practicing the drills that Wood had set out for him what felt like so long ago. Katie wasn't thinking about him that practice, trying to get Kirke and Sloper to actually hit the bludgers with their bats, instead of the air around the bludgers. Ginny did indeed become a Chaser, and a damn fine one at that; she did brilliantly in practice, giving Harry and Katie hope that maybe there was something left in the Gryffindor team.
Tired and sweaty, Harry dragged his feet back to his dormitory. It was dark outside as he trudged up the dew-damp hill towards the castle. His muscles groaned in protest to his solitary walk. Everyone else had left already, but Harry had stayed in the hot showers for a long time, thinking and trying to give his aching muscles some relief.
Suddenly, as he walked up the hill, a hand clapped him on the shoulder. Harry jumped and reached into his cloak for his wand, turning to face his attacker. His heart raced, and his seeker eyes searched the air around him.
"Potter," Snape sneered at Harry, tightening his grip on Harry's shoulder. "What are you doing out and about? It's long past your curfew."
Harry looked up at him. "I was at Quiddich practice." Snape sneered at him as Harry wormed out of the professor's grip on his shoulder. "I was on my way back to the dormitory." He said. "Thank you for your concern."
Before Snape could say anything more, Harry moved away from him and walked up towards the castle before Snape could follow. He put his hand to his heart, which was still beating violently in his chest.
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"Today we are learning about Patronus charms. They are extremely powerful, and extremely difficult." Professor Dumbledore stood at the front of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, speaking to the sixth year students. He walked from one side of the room to the other, pacing back and forth. He placed his hands together as his eyes wandered around the classroom. "Who can tell me what a Patronus charm is?"
Hermione's hand shot up in the air – but it was not alone. Over half the class raised their hands, all of the Gryffindors, and even a few Slytherins. Dumbledore's eyes came to rest on Harry. He paused for a second, a flicker of a smile in his eyes, then continued on to Hermione. "Miss Granger?" He said.
Dumbledore knew that Harry had taught all of his classmates the charm. He knew that a few of them had summoned faint outlines of animals, but that most had only found silvery wisps. He knew that Harry had a Patronus unlike any other, stronger, clearer, more powerful than one that almost anyone could create.
"A Patronus is a charm created to fend off Dementors. It takes the form of an animal and uses that animal's skills to fend off the Dementor. It is extremely difficult to conjure, but it's power is equally great; one Patronus is capable of fending off dozens, maybe hundreds of Dementors, if the conjuror is strong enough." Hermione spoke clearly and loudly, confident and proud of the fact that she had a faint image of an animal when she attempted the charm.
Dumbledore nodded, smiling slightly. "Five points for Gryffindor."
A few people cheered quietly, and Harry saw Malfoy in the back corner, scowling. Ron grinned at Hermione, who looked away from him.
"You may be wondering why we are practicing a charm in this class, and not in Charms. I shall tell you why. The Patronus charm was created in the 1200's…" Harry found himself drifting off as Dumbledore spoke. He knew all of this, he thought. He would rather be learning something new and important. Not that the Patronus wasn't important; Harry would not be alive if it weren't for his Patronus. But time was running short. It was already almost Christmas, and Harry needed to finish the year having learned new and helpful skills, things that would help him in the fight against Voldemort.
"And thus, we come to today. Now, I feel my own Patronus is not particularly skilful, and I should like to show you all a very good one. Mr. Potter, if you would?"
Harry looked up quickly, shooting out of his own thoughts. "Me, Professor?"
"Him, Professor?" Malfoy spat.
Dumbledore nodded, waving his hand to the empty space beside him. "If you please, Mr. Potter."
Harry slowly stood up and walked to the front of the room to the empty space that Dumbledore had gestured to.
"Well, Mr. Potter, you may begin."
"Er-" Harry paused, glancing around the room of apprehensive faces. "Do you just want me to do it?" He asked.
Dumbledore smiled, a twinkle in his eye. "Whatever you deem necessary, Mr. Potter."
Harry moved his wand around in his hand and lifted it. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He cried, and a great silver light flew from the end of his wand. The class blinked at the bright light, but soon many of them were risking being blinded to see the stag cantering around the classroom.
It threw it's head back and disappeared as it ran through Harry. He didn't move, but he heard gasps from some of the girls, thinking it was going to run him over. He couldn't help but grin as Dumbledore awarded him ten points and sent him back to his seat.
"Now, I am aware that a few of you have attempted a Patronus charm. Would anyone care to share their skills with us?"
There was a slight murmur around the classroom – apparently, not everyone knew that Dumbledore was completely and utterly aware of the goings on at the D.A. in Harry's fifth year – none of the Slytherins even knew that the D.A. had done anything that advanced – in fact, Harry wasn't sure if they even knew what it truly was.
Dumbledore smiled broadly, looking around the room. "Let's see… Miss Granger?"
Hermione stood up nervously, and went to the front of the room where Harry had been.
"Expecto Patronum!" She cried, not nearly as forcefully as Harry had. She had never truly needed a Patronus charm, and thus did not understand what power it really took to perform one.
A faint silver light emerged from Hermione's wand, but dissolved quickly.
Dumbledore clapped. "Wonderful, Miss Granger. Now, before we continue with our presentations," he said slowly, "I assume I should teach you the actual spell, should I not?" He clapped his hands together. "Well! We shall begin with this: think of a happy thought. A truly happy thought. If I were to pick a thought, I would pick myself sitting in front of the fire in my office with a good book and a warm pair of socks. Now think."
The class closed their eyes and thought. Harry glanced around at their faces, and he envied how quickly many of them came up with a happy thought. Harry had needed to search through everything he had in his brain, search through his emotions and his subconscious.
Moments later, Dumbledore was speaking again. "Now, all you need to do is point your wand, think your happy thought, and say 'Expecto Patronum.'" He said, looking sternly at the class. "But it is more than just a happy thought. It is an urge. A need. Just pointing your wand and saying the words will not do anything. If you do not truly feel a need for this charm, it will not work to it's utmost potential."
He then directed the class to stand, herding them all to the back of the classroom. He then waved his wand, and all of the desks pushed to one side of the room. "There we are. Now, spread out. You need not worry about hitting someone else with your charm; it won't hurt them one bit. You just need space to perform. Are we ready?"
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore." The class chorused, their training from Professor Umbridge the year before still engrained in their minds, no matter how much they didn't want it to be.
Dumbledore smiled again. "Very well. You may begin."
Staggered and weak words echoed through the classroom. Harry stood at the side of the classroom with Ron and Hermione, helping them with their charms.
It was a fun class, seeing who could create a faint light with their wands, who could even get the faint outline of an animal, and who could do nothing.
"Very good, Miss Patil!" Dumbledore said, walking around the room. "Mr. Thomas, it's Expec-to, not Expec-tro." He continued on to the dark rear corner of the classroom. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, let's see how you've done so far."
Malfoy smirked at Dumbledore. "Of course, Professor." He lifted his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" Nothing happened. Harry just barely stopped himself from snorting with laughter.
"Keep trying, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said kindly, "Mr. Crabbe, Goyle?"
They both lifted their wands dumbly and uttered the words. Nothing happened. Pansy Parkinson giggled, but quickly stopped, stepping out of Dumbledore's path before heading back to Malfoy and his friends.
Ron frowned. "None of them care about this, those great lunkheads. They don't have anything to worry about, it's their side Dumbledore's worried about the Dementors joining."
Hermione sighed. "Just leave them be, Ron. They will fail the class, and you'll pass with flying colours."
Ron's ears turned red as he attempted the charm again.
Harry walked out of class happy as he thought he could be. He had done no work all class, but was still quite far ahead of his classmates, a bright October sun shone over the grounds, and they had a break.
"'Oy, you lot haven't been to see me lately!" A booming voice came from behind them.
Harry turned to see Hagrid beaming down at him. "You should come down for tea some time, I've got somethin' to show you!" He looked sternly at Harry, narrowing his eyes slightly, and Harry thought he would have looked quite menacing, had Harry not known Hagrid was such a softie. "Not after dark, of course." Hagrid said quietly. "Don't want you running round late, it's dangerous. But come by this weekend, won'tcha?"
They nodded.
Hagrid beamed at them. "Well, I've got a class to teach. You best be heading to wherever you're going!" He gave them a wave and strode off towards his cabin.
Hermione watched his back as he strode down the hill, whistling. "This isn't good." She said. "This is definitely not good."
Whenever Hagrid was quite happy, and whenever he had something to show Harry and the others, it usually meant he had acquired some rare, dangerous, and quite possibly illegal creature. Harry remembered – not too fondly – Norbert, the dragon Hagrid had bought in Harry's first year; Fluffy; Aragog, the giant spider; Buckbeak (how could he forget Buckbeak? The creature was living in his house); and of course, Hagrid's incredibly frightening Blast-Ended Skrewts. Harry knew Hermione and Ron had the same thought as him – they all shuddered slightly at it.
It worried Harry for other reasons, though. There had been times when those creatures of Hagrid's had put Harry in danger of expulsion, and even death. He wanted to believe in Hagrid, with all his heart, but it still made him nervous.
Ron looked at his schedule. "Oh no." He groaned. "Double potions this afternoon, I forgot."
Hermione sighed. "Did you finish that essay he set on the healing properties of the Dragonviper venom? I included the treatment of the venom that's needed before you can use it. You never know with Snape, he could just be expecting it."
Ron blanched. "Oh no, I still have two inches to write! I forgot about it!" And he rushed off to the library to work.
Hermione shook her head with a loud sigh. "He's hopeless. Not a very good role model as a prefect, now is he?"
Harry shrugged. "He's been busy. Quiddich season is starting soon, and we've still only got four good players, maybe six. We have to start proper practices in two weeks, and we still have to hold tryouts!"
Hermione looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "You still got your essay done." She said sharply.
But now that Harry was on the thought of Quiddich, he couldn't help but think about how they were ever going to win the Quiddich Cup without Angelina or the twins. He tried to talk to Hermione about it, but she shrugged and said she was sure they'd do fine.
Ron didn't show up at lunch. Harry assumed he was still working on his forgotten essay, and pocketed a sandwich for him. He and Hermione made their way down to the Potions dungeon after lunch, dreading the class.
Harry knew as soon as he entered the dark, dank dungeon that Snape was still holding a grudge on Harry from the night after Quiddich when Harry had talked back to him. He was being particularly deadly.
"Please at least attempt to complete your potion correctly, Potter." Snape hissed. "You are a disgrace to Hogwarts! Why, you are almost as horrible as Longbottom." Harry heard Malfoy snicker, and then heard a clatter from the back of the room – Neville had knocked over his cauldron. But he hadn't knocked it on himself, and Harry knew that it had not been accidental. It had spilled forward onto Malfoy, who was crying in pain as his skin burst out in boils from the unfinished healing potion they were creating from the Dragonviper venom.
"Oh no," Ron moaned quietly from beside Harry, "two classes worth of work wasted on Malfoy. Poor Neville."
"Longbottom! What is the meaning of this?"
"I'm sorry sir, I think it was a faulty cauldron…"
"No, Longbottom, I believe it is you who is faulty. Five points from Gryffindor. Take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing, please, and then return and clean up your mess. If you are very, very lucky, there will be enough left on the floor for me to mark. Though I might add that at this stage it should be yellow, not green, and should leave the user with an odd, stinging sensation – nothing more." He spoke loudly over Malfoy's overdramatic howls. "Now go!" He barked.
Neville nodded and walked down the aisle quickly to the front of the class, catching Harry's eye as he left. Harry grinned at him, and Neville grinned back.
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Oy, sorry it took so long. I've been very, very busy.
Elise: thanks!
Seirien: I wouldn't necessarily say he is depressed. He is upset, certainly, but not really depressed. It's not that extreme, I think. You sort of know he is not depressed by the beginning of this chapter because he just sort of wills it away. That doesn't really work with depression.
FSI: thanks!
Please review people, this is pitiful.