James bolted out of bed screaming the next morning. Almost at the same time, Harry followed suit. They looked at each other for a moment before Ron's pillow hit the side of Harry's head.

"Ron, you bloody git!" Harry yelled, causing his friend to mutter incoherently. Neville was the next to wake.

"Harry, keep it down eh? Some of us have class today."

"It's time to get up anyway, Neville," James said. Neville groaned but swung out of bed.

"What was it?" Harry asked, returning to their previous subject.

"A nightmare. I saw someone get-"

"Killed by Lucius?" Harry cut in. James nodded.

"Muggles," James continued.

Harry rubbed at his scar, and James resisted the urge to do the same. "We should tell Dumbledore."

"Right. The Minister will need to be told as well."

"She will be. Dumbledore's good about that," Harry replied.

James nodded.

"Dad, we need to talk," James said, suddenly turning very serious.

Harry's face became guarded, and he sat down. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm worried about Mum."

Harry nodded and sat back to listen.

James sat at the Gryffindor table later that day, picking disgustedly at his food. He looked at his father, only to receive a worried frown in return. He nodded, and looked away. After a moment, James pushed up from the table so roughly his chair fell back onto the floor. James kicked it out of his way, before walking out of the Great Hall. He turned toward the hospital wing and set off. Once there, he took a seat in the waiting area and waited for the nurse to return. Hannah Abbot came and left without saying anything. James sighed. Not long after that, Madam Pomfrey returned.

"What can I do for you, James?" she asked gruffly.

"I think I'm having trouble with my stomach," he replied.

"What sort of trouble? Indigestion? Cramping? A sensation of-"

"It's Voldemort. He's...doing something, and he's nervous it won't work. It's hurting my stomach."

"Understandable," the older woman said with a slight shudder, handing him a vial of green potion. James thanked her, and turned toward the exit. That was when Ginny caught his eye.

"James?" she asked. He nodded.

"My head hurts. What happened?"

Instead of answering, James called for Madam Pomfrey, who started to berate him about how there were other students who needed her attention, but she stopped short when she noticed Ginny was awake.

"Miss Weasley," the Matron said gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been beaten up by a hoard of hinkypunks," Ginny said slowly, her voice slightly slurred. James hid a smile behind a cough. Hinkypunks? Madam Pomfrey however, kept her professional detachment firmly to the fore.

"You took a nasty spill. Do you remember anything about what happened?

"We were in Hogwarts...I'm sure you knew that...there were some people talking. They sounded angry...we were in Hogwarts...what was I saying?"

"The memory lapse should clear up in a day or two. You had a mild concussion."

"Oh."

James nodded, though she wasn't really speaking to him. "I'm sure you'll be alright. You're in good hands."

Ginny smiled, and yawned. James took her hands in his for a moment, and then let her go, walking out of the medical wing with a spring in his step, as though a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. Glancing at his watch, he cursed and took off toward Gryffindor Tower at a run. If he were late for Charms...

About half way there, he ran into Ron. A second later, he managed to pick himself up off of the floor.

"Are you ok?" Ron asked, getting up himself.

"I think so. Guess I should pay more attention."

"Good idea." James fidgeted uncomfortably, while Ron seemed to struggle with himself. Finally he asked, "What have you got against Hermione?"

James sighed, slowly. He opened his mouth to explain what had happened yet again, when something else caught his attention.

"Do you hear that?" he asked Ron. The other boy shook his head. James cocked his head to the side and listened. A charge like static electricity began to fill the air. The hair on the back of James' neck stood up, and his face suddenly filled with terror.

"James, what-" Ron began.

"Run!"

"What are you playing-" Ron began, but James grabbed his arm and nearly yanked him off the floor in his haste. Ron got the message, and kept up easily.

People largely ignored James' warnings for their retreat, until one of the creatures flew right through Dennis Creevy. The boy cried out and died before he hit the ground. People began to yell and scream as they followed James. He suddenly whirled around, and raised his wand.

"EXCELSIOR PATRONUS!"

Ron caught on immediately. "Expecto Patronum!"

The two Patronuseserupted from their wands, and Ron's vanished instantly. His face whitened.

"It won't work! RUN!" James yelled. Ron stood his ground. A moment later, Dumbledore appeared. "All of you are to proceed to the Great Hall at once, except for Mr. Potter!"

As the other students passed, Dumbledore and James began working a complex spell, speaking at times in unison, and at times on their own. A silver mist permeated the corridor, and one of the creatures slammed into it, screeching as it vanished. Several more creatures hit the mist, and it began to dissipate. Slowly, the two began to back up, attempting to strengthen the wall even as they were forced to retreat. James began to sweat, as Dumbledore's hands began to shake. The mist began to dissipate again, becoming less cohesive with each passing moment.

"Expecto Patronum!" Dumbledore said firmly. His Patronus rushed toward the creatures, only to be consumed a moment later. James cursed.

"How were these creatures banished in your time?" Dumbledore asked.

"A lot of us can cast the new Patronus in my time. One isn't enough," James said tightly, as his own Patronus was suddenly overwhelmed by the creatures.

Dumbledore nodded as they approached the Great Hall. Once inside, he began yelling instructions to the staff, and capable students. As one, everyone who could cast his or her own Patronus did so. Several moments later, they were all gone, except for James', along with several of the creatures. The few who remained clustered in a group attacking the wolf, which began to weaken under the assault. Before anyone realized what was happening, One of them broke away and slammed through Dumbledore's body. The old man didn't even cry out, as he fell to the floor. James dispatched the creature with a cloud of mist, but the damage was done. For a long moment, silence reigned as people began to realize that the creatures had disappeared, and that the Headmaster wasn't breathing.

Someone began to cry, as others stood frozen in disbelief. James gave them the courtesy of not turning to find out who. Instead, he pointed a finger at his throat and said, "Sonorus." He paused a moment, to think.

"Everyone back away. I may be able to help him."

Some of the older students glared at him for a moment, as if to ask what he could possibly do, before backing away from Dumbledore. James knelt by the old man's side, and whispered several incantations, his brow furrowing as they increased in complexity. Eventually, he slammed his fist into the floor and bellowed in anger. At that point, the doors burst open and Professor McGonagall burst in, along with Harry, Ginny, and Madam Pomfrey. Harry spoke up quickly.

"What the hell happened?"

Before James could reply, Professor McGonagall took charge.

"Everyone must be accounted for. You will all take your places at your house tables."

James quietly muttered the counter-charm as he took his place at Gryffindor table, cursing his idiocy under his breath. Dennis Creevy had been killed, and-

"Seems only Dennis is missing from Gryffindor, Professor," Hermione said, shattering James' train of thought. One Slytherin student was lost, and two Hufflepuff students. James didn't hear how many Ravenclaw had lost their lives.

"This is my fault," James said aloud, not even realizing it.

"This is no time to start blaming yourself, James," Ginny spoke up. James gave her a confused look, and then turned his head away.

"No. I meant that literally."

"James-" Ginny began, before McGonagall cut her off, having seen to the fact that Albus was in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey.

"This isn't the time for blame, Potter. I need to know where those things came from, and how we can protect ourselves in the future."

"They came from here, Professor," James said slowly, trying to weigh his words. "They're called the Toscora. We created them. That is, a group of witches and wizards at Hogwarts. I was one of the students in the group. They were supposed to be the ultimate defense against the Dementors. They can't be affected by them, because they share many of the same characteristics. It worked for a while, and the tide seemed to be turning. We designed them to return to Hogwarts after short periods of time because they were meant to keep the school Dementor free. We only created about sixty of them. Some of them escaped, but we have no idea how. They went into the wild, and resisted our efforts to find them. They began to breed after a month or two, and we think they were approached by Voldemort. Someone in his group promised them power and the ability to control their own destines. They've been attacking us ever since."

"How do we defend ourselves?" McGonagall asked in a no nonsense tone. James thought for a moment.

"The Patronus was supposed to be our defense in case of emergency. In the beginning, even a regular Patronus could defeat them, but they evolved. The new Patronus is more effective, but only in groups. Preferably very large groups."

"What about that spell you and Dumbledore were using?" Ron cut in. James nodded.

"A two part defense. He cast a regular Patronus, but didn't give it form. I cast a new one, and did the same thing. Essentially, a Patronus wall."

"That's dedicated magic, James. How much of that can you do?" Hermione asked, joining them.

"Not as much as is necessary. I can't do anymore, right now. Where are Fred and George?"

"Here," the twins chorused.

"You two invented the new Patronus, in my time. Maybe you can help me figure a way to make it more effective. Hermione, You should come too," James turned to Professor McGonagall, "Could we borrow Professor Flitwick as well?"

The Charms professor and the students set off for his classroom at once, with Fred and George barraging James with questions about the spell. They didn't let up until they got into the charms room, and Professor Flitwick took over. Unlike the twins' questions, the professor's were quick, probing, and to the point. James shrugged. The professor just had more experience.

"Not as much fun when our lives depend on it, is it George?" Fred asked, several hours later. George didn't so much as sigh in response. His hands were black with soot, and his breath was ragged. Fred and James weren't much better off. Professor Flitwick had long since given up helping, and was now merely offering suggestions. James sighed. The old professor's hands shook. Hermione sighed.

"James, this isn't going to work. Didn't you say they had Professor Lupin's help too? I'm sure they were thorough and made the spell as efficient as possible, but that was years from now," she said, slumping into a chair.

"Never did do anything second rate, did we, brother mine?" Fred asked, sitting himself.

"I'm beginning to agree, Hermione. What do you suggest?" James asked in a defeated tone.

"We should work on making the regular Patronus more effective. I mean, give it more endurance or something. Lots of us here already know how to cast that one. We'd save time if we could just change the spell we all know, instead of trying to learn the new one. It could take months for everyone to learn this newer version, even if we do perfect it."

James looked at her, and then at the others in turn. "We don't have that much time."

The colour drained from Hermione's face, and everyone immediately began to focus their attention on this new goal. "I hope this keeps them busy for a while, because we probably won't make it out of this alive." James suddenly realized. Fortunately for him, it quickly became apparent that the twins and Hermione had some very interesting ideas about how to make the Patronus more effective, and there was no more time for such morbid thinking.

"What if we tied it more closely to the wizard who cast it?" Fred suggested.

"It would have quite a bit more endurance, but would probably damage the witch or wizard who cast it, when it was defeated," Hermione speculated.

"That's true," Fred agreed.

"We expect to do the fighting here, don't we?" George asked.

James nodded. "That was what mostly happened, in my time."

"So, what if we tied them into Hogwarts itself? I mean, like the wards are?" George continued.

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"They could be bound into Hogwarts itself. This castle has seen generations of protective wards implemented and redesigned over the last one thousand years, and most of the original defenses the Founders put in place are still here. Hogwarts is an excellent focal point for all sorts of magic. Why not anchor the Patronuses to the school itself, instead of to a witch or wizard?"

"That would probably give it the endurance we need, but what about strength?" Hermione asked.

Professor Flitwick was nodding. "You may have done it, George. We should focus on trying to find a way to tie them in, and we can worry about strength later."

"Maybe they can be used as a distraction, even if we can't use them to defeat the Toscora," Hermione said. James nodded and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Let's get to it then."

Hermione left the room, only to return a few moments later with a large stack of books. James helped her to move it to the table, and then grabbed the nearest one. He opened it without bothering to glance at the cover, and began to read so quickly that Fred and George gaped at him. Hermione just looked at them in disgust, and began to read her copy of Hogwarts: A History. Shrugging, Fred and George grabbed one each and did the same. Professor Flitwick took the last one, and sat down, already engrossed. George spoke up after a moment.

"Would these books have information about the wards Hermione? Seems like the Founders would have wanted that information kept secret."

"These are from Dumbledore's private library."

"Blimey! How'd you get in there?" George asked, wide-eyed.

"Special arrangement with the professor, back in fourth year when I was helping Harry study for the Triwizard Tournament. He never changed his mind, and I've gone in there once or twice a year ever since." Hermione said, her face clouding over at the mention of Harry, and further at the mention of the fallen professor. She went back to her book, reading furiously. George got the hint and fell silent.

It seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes when James suddenly gasped, causing the other three students to look at him, and the charms professor to drop his book in shock.

"Hermione! Look!" James yelled, moving over to her and taking her book, before handing her his own. Hermione said nothing, already half way down the page before James stepped away. Fred, George, and Filius Flitwick crowded around her. Fred looked at George after a moment.

"Imagine what we could pull off..." Fred said, trailing off and raising his eyebrows. Hermione hissed in annoyance. Before anyone could any anything though, Neville broke into the room, panting as though he'd run a marathon.

"James, you've got to come, quick! It's Harry!" the boy said. James didn't bother to reply, he just gestured Neville to lead the way, and broke into a run as he left the room. All thoughts of the Patronus left his mind as he began to imagine all manner of horrible things. Eventually, the two arrived at the Great Hall, where an ashen Ginny knelt by Harry's side with Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey.

"What's going on?" James asked, breathlessly.

"Something happened to him. He was fine just a moment ago," Ginny said tightly.

"He clutched his scar and collapsed," McGonagall elaborated. "He cried out and fell."

James pressed a finger to Harry's scar, momentarily linking it to his own. After a few seconds, he swore and pulled his fingers back as though he'd been burned.

"It's Voldemort. I can't get through!" he shouted in anger, before putting both hands on the sides of Harry's head, and closing his eyes to try again. His brow furrowed, and he began to sweat. Several moments later, he began to whimper in pain. It wasn't long before he was thrown back, as though a great hand had scooped him up and tossed him aside. He landed several feet away, but was up and back at his father's side almost instantly. He tried yet again to reach his father, but this time the feeling was different. There was...nothing. He looked at Ginny, Madam Pomfrey, and finally at Professor McGonagall, his face stricken.

"Voldemort's got him. There's nothing I can do."