Disclaimer: As difficult as it may be for some of you to wrap your heads around this, a bored writer posting on is not the actual owner of Harry Potter. Sorry to disappoint.
Chapter 42
"I don't believe it!" Lee Jordan hollered with glee, his amplified voice barely distinguishable from the roars of the crowd around him. "Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP!" He shrieked before joining the rest of his house in sprinting from the stands to the field. Professor McGonagall was next to him and was applauding like mad, a genuine smile on her face. Severus Snape fumed behind them, casting malicious glares at the ecstatic student body. Dumbledore, who was next to Snape, offered a nonchalant golf-clap before waving his wand and summoning the Quidditch Cup into his hands. Flitwick and Sprout made no effort to hide their delight in Slytherin's defeat and cheered their hearts out.
Harry Potter didn't see any of those reactions, unfortunately, because he had been tackled by Oliver Wood into the grass of the Quidditch pitch. The Gryffindor Captain was crying into his shoulder, repeatedly shouting "We've won the Cup!" in between sobs. The bespectacled Seeker just grinned as he lay on his back, staring triumphantly at the Snitch still clutched in his right hand. Fred and George Weasley landed next to him and tugged him and Wood to their feet before enveloping Harry in a bear hug strong enough make him wince. He was vaguely aware of the twins shouting something about "Slayer of Slytherin" and "Seeker extraordinaire" but he could barely breathe, much less comprehend his surroundings. The moment they released Harry, he was subjected to another group-hug, this one courtesy of the Chasers, who were all crying despite sporting gigantic smiles.
"We won't kiss you this time." Alicia muttered into his ear.
"We'd hate to get on the wrong side of Granger." Angelina giggled as all three pulled away.
Harry finally had a chance to catch his breath. He instinctively rested his hands on his knees as he panted, still grinning from ear to ear. Dumbledore materialized next to him, along with a now-sobbing McGonagall. Harry felt the urge to snicker at the sight of his professor – the woman who'd battled a basilisk alongside him with stone-faced seriousness – showing so much emotion over Quidditch, but he kept silent as Dumbledore pressed his wand to his throat.
The headmaster launched into a short speech congratulating Gryffindor on a hard-fought victory over Slytherin, and Harry felt a rush of triumph as Malfoy seethed just a few feet away, staring at the Snitch in Harry's hand with unbridled fury. Dumbledore then gave the Quidditch Cup to a still-crying Wood, who took one of the handles with his right hand and motioned for Harry to grab the other with his left. The Seeker did so, and they held it up victoriously, sending the crowd of spectators into a frenzy. Almost all of the student body had now reached the pitch, keeping a reasonable distance from the players and faculty. Harry scanned the crowd until he saw a familiar mane of bushy brown hair squeeze through to the front.
Wood was speaking now, giving what Harry assumed was a very moving speech, but he didn't comprehend a single word. He had locked eyes with Hermione Granger, who was beaming at him. He returned the smile, his stomach bubbling with elation and a general warm-and-fuzziness consuming his entire body.
Wood finished his speech and held out the trophy. Harry took it with both hands and thrusted it towards the heavens, and the stadium exploded with cheers capable of bursting the eardrums of everyone in Britain. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup. It was time to celebrate. He saw Fred Weasley and Angelina were now openly snogging despite the disapproving looks from several professors and decided to follow his teammate's example. He turned back to where Hermione had been standing, but in the two seconds he had looked away from her she had managed to close the distance between them. She crashed into him at full speed, flinging her arms around his neck and still beaming at him, clearly unable to find the words to describe how she felt. Feeling at a loss for words himself, he decided to use actions instead.
Harry leaned in and kissed Hermione as if he had never kissed her before, letting his body act on the giddy impulses that were bouncing around his brain at a thousand miles per hour. His lips met hers, and he was certain there would be a heart-shaped hole in his chest it was beating so furiously. Hermione let out a small sound of surprise before kissing him back, the movement of her lips sending his nervous system into a chaotic mess. He found one of his arms wrapping around just below Hermione's shoulder blades and pulling her close, while the other reached straight upwards and brandished the Quidditch Cup once again. The roars of the crowd, the wolf-whistles from their male friends, the squeals from their female friends, the tutting of their professors, it all melted away into nothingness as Harry allowed himself to be enveloped in complete and total bliss.
He wished that a dementor would show up. Harry Potter wasn't certain about many things, but he knew with every fiber of his being that he would have cast the world's best Patronus at that very moment.
"I don't know if you're aware, but there's a party going on right now." Harry smirked as he held out a bottle of butterbeer to the one person in the Gryffindor common room who wasn't currently dancing, laughing, or celebrating.
"I'll join in a bit, I just want to get this done." Hermione flashed him a quick smile before returning her attention to her Ancient Runes essay.
"Isn't that due on Wednesday?" Harry raised an eyebrow, eliciting a blush from his girlfriend.
"Maybe." She sighed. "You know I'm not really one for rambunctiousness." She leaned back, dropping her quill on the table in front of her. "But you should get back to the party. You're the one who won the Cup, after all."
Harry shrugged and sat down next to Hermione, handing her the butterbeer as he sipped one of his own. "You know I'm not really one for attention."
"I think attention's pretty hard to avoid when you're the best Seeker at Hogwarts." Hermione giggled as she took the drink. "You were brilliant out there, you know."
"I just wanted it to be over." He chuckled. "Slytherin was just playing so dirty. They even gave Katie a black eye." He pointed over his shoulder to the youngest Gryffindor Chaser, who was pointing to her injured eye and laughing hysterically with her friends, clearly recounting the story of how Marcus Flint had punched her during the match.
"Why hasn't Madam Pomfrey fixed that?" Hermione scrunched her eyebrows together. "It's been hours, surely she's had time."
"Katie refused." Harry broke out into a knowing smile. "She said it makes her look badass."
"Are all Quidditch players this ridiculous? It's unbelievable." She huffed, shaking her head as she took another sip of her drink.
"You better start believing it." Harry smirked. "You're dating one."
"I'm not dating just any Quidditch player." She said playfully, scooting in closer to Harry. "I'm dating the best."
Harry blushed and tried to busy himself with his butterbeer, but Hermione grabbed a fistful of his Quidditch jersey and pulled him into a quick – but very passionate – kiss. She pulled back with an impish twinkle in her eye as Harry offered a dazed smile, unsure if he had the ability to speak.
She swiveled around and went back to writing her essay, occasionally pausing to sneak glances at a very content Harry. The bespectacled wizard eventually returned to planet Earth and blinked a few times, sliding across the couch to lean into Hermione's side.
"Did I ever tell you that I finished this essay?" Harry asked. "During practice on Thursday, in the locker room, Wood was so absorbed in explaining a play that he didn't even notice that Alicia and Angelina were playing tic-tac-toe on a bit of parchment. So, I decided to get to work on this essay. Turns out the best Keeper at Hogwarts isn't very observant." He smirked.
"You finished this essay on your own?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"I did. I even stopped by to talk to Professor Babbling yesterday morning because I wasn't sure about my introduction. She ended up telling me it was perfect, even giving Gryffindor ten points." He shrugged innocently. "So if you need me to look over your essay, I'm more than happy to." He grinned at the reversal of roles, Hermione now the one receiving help on homework from him. She turned and stared at him for a moment, as if searching for any indication that he was lying.
"You're offering me help?" She whispered, her eyes lighting up. Harry recognized the look in her eyes – one he still couldn't find the right word to describe – and braced himself. Sure enough, Hermione suddenly flung herself onto him and began peppering his face with quick kisses.
"Hermione!" He involuntarily gasped out in surprise, but she either didn't hear him or didn't care enough to stop, unleashing a barrage of kisses all over his face as if she were trying to cover every inch of his skin with her lips. "If this is how you're going to act every time I do homework – "
"Oh, shut up!" She giggled before planting one last lingering kiss on his cheek. His heart pounded in his chest so hard he was certain everyone in the room could hear it as they both sat upright, blushing. "That was very sweet of you."
"Well, it's not like you don't offer the same every single day." Harry fired back, a wry smile forming on his face. "Maybe I should take a page out of your book…" He slowly snaked his arms around Hermione's torso, causing her to squeak and blush even more.
"Harry Potter, what are you – ack!" She tried hard to be mad as he lunged, but she couldn't subdue her delighted smile and her giggles as he showered her with kisses. Cheeks, lips, nose, forehead, nowhere was safe. "Harry!" She squealed as he kissed a bit of exposed skin on her shoulder where her jumper had slid down. He pulled back, his expression oozing smugness.
"Just had to return the favor." He smirked, leaning back into the couch cushions and lacing his fingers behind his head. He was certain he wouldn't have even considered acting like this if he wasn't riding so high from the Quidditch victory and chuckled to himself. "So, do you need me to look over your essay?"
"Be my guest." She beamed, handing him the parchment and snuggling into his side as he read, constantly pausing to praise her work.
"That's a really good use of evidence right there." He pointed to a sentence. "But I can't say I'm familiar with this Rune you have here in the margin. I don't think I've ever seen it before." He smirked as he pointed to the letters HG and HP enclosed within a heart.
Hermione squeaked in embarrassment and tried to snatch the parchment out of his hands, but he held it just out of her reach, snickering. "Harry!" She whined, her cheeks matching the scarlet paint on the walls. "Give it!"
"Why? It's adorable." He grinned, causing her to blush even more. "Seriously. You should see the number of times I write your name on my History of Magic notes instead of actual notes."
"Oh…" She said quietly, a shy smile materializing on her face. "Really?"
"Really." Harry nodded, still grinning. "Now, may I finish reviewing your essay?"
"Mm-hmm." She hummed, cuddling against his side once again. Harry gave one last snicker before returning his eyes to the paper.
"Seriously, Hermione, I cannot describe how brilliant this is. I bet Professor Babbling wishes she could write like this." He insisted once he reached the end. "I have nothing to offer. I don't want to contaminate this perfection." He added, eliciting a playful swat on the arm.
"I really doubt that it's perfection." She retorted, resting her head on his shoulder contentedly.
"Well, I know what perfection is. I look at it every day." That caused Hermione to squeak and burrow her face in his shoulder to hide her blush. "Seriously, every time I see Neville I just stop and stare." He winked, and Hermione hit him on the arm again.
"Shut up." She murmured into his jersey. "Are you sure you don't want to go back to the party?" She asked after a pause, lifting her head to meet his eyes.
"I'd much rather be here." He smiled, and she happily nestled into his side and let out a quiet exhale.
"Congratulations again, Harry." A familiar voice greeted the boy wizard as he entered the History of Magic classroom a few days later.
"Thank you, Professor." He grinned sheepishly. Lupin gave a warm smile before motioning towards the chest on the table next to him.
"Let me know when you're ready."
"Just a minute." Harry let out a long exhale. "I'm going to try using a different memory tonight."
"Oh?" Lupin raised his eyebrows in intrigue. "Care to share?"
"Last Saturday." Harry blushed. "When I was holding the Quidditch Cup and…well…"
"Ah, yes, I know the rest." The professor chuckled to himself. "If you had not won my former house the Quidditch Cup for the first time in years I suppose I would have reprimanded you for such an act but…alas." He shrugged. "Say the word, and the Boggart is all yours."
"Alright." Harry steeled himself, shutting his eyes for a moment and visualizing himself back on the Quidditch pitch. He remembered the cold metal of the trophy in his left hand, raised high over his head. He remembered the deafening cheers of the student body. He remembered his other arm wrapped around Hermione, her impossibly soft lips on his. He blushed again at that but let out one last exhale, taking his usual defensive stance. He opened his eyes and nodded to Lupin. "Bring it on."
"As you wish." The young professor flicked his wand, unfastening the lock and opening the chest next to him. The Boggart emerged, a hooded wraith that towered over Harry, exuding a frigidness that sent the worst kind of shivers down his spine. He instinctively backed up a step as the dementor floated towards him, a slimy scabbed hand protruding from the folds of its cloak and reaching towards him. For a split-second, Harry heard his mother and father screaming as Voldemort killed them, a sadistic laugh echoing in his ears.
Then he blinked, and warmth surged through him as his happy memory blocked out his parents' shrieks. The icy chill that had enveloped him was suddenly repelled, and Harry had yet to even utter the incantation. Despite the dementor coming closer and closer to him, he smiled, waving his wand and focusing solely on the feeling of kissing Hermione Granger while holding the Quidditch Cup high above his head.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He hollered, brandishing his wand towards the Boggart. The moment the words left his mouth a silver beam burst out of his wand, but it was a far cry from the weak misty shield he usually produced. It was a blinding, dazzling silver animal, charging out of the end of his wand and plowing the dementor back into the trunk. The Boggart vanished as the chest swung closed, and the Patronus lingered for a moment, turning to face Harry.
It was a stag, shining as bright as the moon that hung just outside the window of the classroom. It bowed its antlered head before dissolving, and both Harry and Lupin stood dumbstruck for a minute.
"Prongs…" Lupin finally whispered.
"What?" Harry was grinning with satisfaction and awe at himself. "What did you say?"
"Prongs." Lupin repeated. "It was your father's nickname. His Patronus and Animagus form was a stag, and he insisted we call him Prongs, because, well…" He held his hands up over his head and wiggled his fingers, "antlers."
"Really?" Harry's eyebrows shot to the ceiling, his thoughts dominated by the seemingly blank piece of parchment in his bag just a few feet away.
"Really." Lupin chuckled before he caught sight of Harry's pensive expression. "Is everything alright?"
"Hmm?" Harry blinked. "Oh, yeah. Spectacular. I just did a Corporeal Patronus after all."
"Indeed you did." Lupin's smile returned, his eyes twinkling with pride. "You are a remarkable student, Harry, and a remarkable wizard. I knew it was only a matter of time."
"Oh, thank you." Harry blushed. "So…erm…"
"I suppose we have concluded our lesson." The Professor shrugged, checking his watch. "I will see you in class on Monday, Harry. Don't forget about the Grindylow assignment."
"Already done, professor." Harry grinned.
"I suppose I should have expected that." Lupin chuckled, lifting the chest and leading Harry towards the corridor. "Brilliant work, Harry. Truly, truly brilliant. I think Hermione will be quite proud of what you did today."
"Oh…thanks." Harry said awkwardly, adjusting the strap of his bag to avoid looking at his professor. "Thank you for everything, professor."
"It was my pleasure." He smiled before setting off towards his office. Harry nodded slowly before turning and heading up towards Gryffindor Tower. He felt his mind moving at a thousand miles an hour and tried to sort through the events of the shortest anti-dementor lesson he'd had all year. For starters, he'd conjured a Corporeal Patronus, and its form was identical to that of his father. That alone would have probably caused him to break down with all kinds of mixed emotions, but he had too much on his mind.
Second of all, his father had been known as Prongs, a name he'd seen in only one other place: the Marauder's Map. He felt unnervingly alert as he sifted through a myriad of miniscule pieces of information, much like he'd felt when he'd concluded that Lupin was a werewolf.
Professor Lupin had mentioned him, his father, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew as being an inseparable group of four friends known for their brilliance and their knack for mischief-making. Constructing and designing something like the Marauder's Map required all kinds of intelligence and academic ability, and you literally had to say 'Mischief managed' to wipe it clean. He found himself pursing his lips in concentration as he ascended a staircase.
Prongs. The nickname was inspired by the animal form his father took on. The other nicknames – Moony, Wormtail, and Padfoot – could easily be based on animal counterparts. Lupin had told him that the others became Animagi to accompany him while he transformed into a werewolf.
Werewolf transformations occur on a full moon. True or false?
Full moon. Moon. Moony. It was too much for Harry to ignore as he rounded a corner, coming face to face with the Fat Lady. She stared expectantly at him for the password but he was too busy thinking. Thinking about something that made his heart slow to a standstill. If his father, along with Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and most importantly Sirius, had created the Marauder's Map, then they knew everything about it, including the secret passages on the map that led into Hogwarts castle.
"Well?" The Fat Lady said irritably, jarring Harry from his thoughts.
"Oh, sorry." Harry mumbled. "Erm…Epiphany."
The portrait swung open, and Harry slowly made his way into the common room. It was fairly busy, with many students studying up for final exams that were now just over one month away. He spotted Angelina preparing for her O.W.L.s and she gave him a quick wave before returning to her Transfiguration textbook. Fred and George were at another table. They too had their Transfiguration books open, but were too busy flicking Exploding Snap cards at Percy to study. Harry turned and saw Hermione on their usual couch, curled up so her back was on the armrest, facing the portrait hole. She was engrossed in her Arithmancy textbook, but as if she sensed his gaze, she looked up and flashed him a radiant smile. He made his way over, his mind still swirling with all kinds of thoughts. He opened his mouth once he reached the couch but Hermione spoke first.
"You don't look pale at all, Harry! You look great!" She said excitedly, closing her book and placing it on the table. "How was the lesson?"
"Oh…" Harry's mind blanked for a second. He had managed to forget that he had conjured a Corporeal Patronus. Somehow. "I did it."
"Did what?" Hermione brightened even more, scooting closer so her knees brushed the side of Harry's leg.
"I did a Patronus…thing."
"A Patronus thing?" She raised an eyebrow in amusement.
"A Corporeal Patronus." Harry gave a small laugh. "Sorry, I've had a lot to think about, and – oh!" He cried out as Hermione flung her arms around him, squealing with delight as she hugged him with every bit of strength she possessed.
"I'm so proud of you!" She whispered into his ear before planting several kisses on his cheek. "Do you think you could teach me?" She asked eagerly. "I know it's tremendously difficult, but if you were able to conjure it in the presence of a dementor – well, a Boggart, but it has the same effects – then surely you could at least teach me enough to get myself out of mortal danger. Oh, Harry, you're amazing! I can't believe you produced a Corporeal Patronus!" She squealed before blitzkrieging him with a few more kisses.
"Me neither." He chuckled, patting her arm as she rocked back and forth in excitement, still hugging him.
"What changed? Did you use a different memory?"
He smiled to himself, relaxing into the couch cushions as his memory flashed through his mind once again. "I switched things up. I used last Saturday. After the match." His smile widened into a grin. "I think you know what I'm talking about."
"I think I'm familiar with that chain of events, yes." Hermione giggled. "Harry, that's amazing. The Patronus can only be performed by truly exceptional wizards. Don't blush, Harry! It's true. You really are exceptional."
"Thanks." He said weakly. "But, as much as I'd like to sit here and have you compliment me, I think I just figured something out."
"What is it?" Hermione finally relinquished her death grip on him and bit her bottom lip, clearly uneasy about his wary tone.
"I think I know how Sirius Black is getting into the castle."
A/N: I'm back.