Oliver wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. He was scared. Not nervous, not worried but down right scared. He'd never been in a battle before. The closest he'd ever come was last spring when he'd had to go against the dementors. It still chilled him to the bone to think of it. He'd just been out for a short stroll when he'd felt as though every happy feeling in his body were being ripped out of him. He'd recognized the feeling. It was the same one he'd felt the year before when dementors had nearly killed his seeker by causing him to fall off his broom. He'd come into the clearing and seen Lucy standing helpless against a swarm of dementors, Ginny's wand useless in her hand. If he lived a hundred years he would never know how he managed to summon the wolf shaped patronus when he'd never been able to in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Because the cost of failure in class would not have been the soul of the woman you love," he thought. He sucked his breath in hard. Lucy. For her he would brave whatever danger came. Going in he'd known that danger would be part of their life together. It was just part of being in love with the sister of the Boy Who Lived. She'd offered him a way out early, and he hadn't wanted it then nor did he want it now. Merlin, he'd been taken with her from the moment he met her...
-----Flashback-
When he'd left these halls last year he never in a million years thought he'd be back. As a student he'd been passable but the only thing he ever really had any passion for was quidditch. That was why he now made his down to the dungeons where he used to have Potions with Snape. He could hardly believe that Dumbledore had actually given that old greasy haired hooked nosed spiderbat the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well at least Snape would be gone next year. NoDADA teacher had ever lasted more than one year. He didn't know much about Emily Dashall the new Potions teacher. She was most likely some old wrinkled woman with white hair and spectacles who would call him "sonny". But if she could heal his eye and get him back to playing Quidditch instead of refereeing students and teaching first years how to fly on brooms, he didn't much care what she was like. He pushed open the old door and stepped into the classroom. The room was deserted with the exception of a woman who stood over a cauldron with her back to him. "Excuse me," he said to her. She turned and looked at him. He felt as though he'd been hit by a bolt of lightning. She was slightly older than him, early twenties most likely. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a bun and several tendrils fell loose and curled around her face. She was dressed in muggle clothing, jeans and a red hooded sweater, the type that students wore on weekends and around the common room. Her eyes which were as dark as her hair stared at him quizically. "May I help you?" she asked. "I, uh, I was uh, Professor Dashall." Oliver you dunderhead, he snapped at himself.
"Yes," she said. "That's me"
"You're Professor Dashall?" he said incredulously. "But you're so...young!" The moment he said he felt like a fool, but she only laughed.
"You must be Wood," she said. "Dumbledore told me about you"
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that"
"Think nothing of it. You're not the first to say it. Have a seat." He pulled out a chair and sat down while she added a gold colored powder to the cauldron and gave it a few stirs. She brushed her hands off on her jeans and turned to him.
"Needs to simmer," she said. She pulled out a chair and sat backwards in it. Oliver was dumbstruck by the whole thing. This was the famous witch responsible for the Felanam potion and at least ten other potions that had changed the shape of healing magical ailments? She looked more like a student than a professor. "So Oliver," she said. "Dumbledore's filled me in on the situation. I've also taken the liberty of looking at your charts and films from St. Mungo's. I'm sure they've told you that the damage to the nerves in your eye is extensive"
"Yes, they've told me," Oliver said, "irreparable"
"Well," Professor Dashall said. "I don't believe that is true." Oliver felt his hopes swell.
"That is not to say that it will be an easy task. We're not going to fix your sight in a day. It will take time and a great deal of patience. However, as long as you're willing to bear with me and the time and care it will take, I will do what I can to fix your sight..."
End Flashback
He fell in love with her that day. Watching her eyes, the passion and drive at creating the potion that would fix his sight, he'd recognized it for it was the same look he go in his eye when he played Quidditch. At first he'd try to pass it off as a simple crush but the more time he spent with her the more he realized that it was so much more than a crush. The first time he'd kissed her, he'd felt it all the way to his toes. It was in that moment he knew that no matter what he would never leave her side. Above their heads they heard several pops as the Death Eaters apparated into the house. "Find HIM!" Lucius Malfoy's voice was heard.
"Get ready!" Dumbledore whispered loudly. Oliver pulled out his wand and prepared to defend the woman he loved.
The vast wasteland they'd been traveling through quickly turned into a swamp. Their clothes stuck to their backs and mud soaked them to their ankles. They held tight to thier wands and to each other. After Ginny's run in with Tom Riddle, none of them was willing to take chances. Sirius was finding it harder and harder to keep calm. But he knew he had to, for the girls' sake. They were all on edge, trapped here in Harry's own personal hell. They were tired, scared, and they were no closer to finding Harry than they'd been an hour ago. They had to keep going. He couldn't bear the thought of his godson being trapped here for all eternity, facing his own nightmares hour after day after month after year. He gasped in horror as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His lungs felt like ice and he felt as though every positive emotion in him were being sucked out of his eyes. He knew what was coming and from the looks on their faces the girls knew too.
"Dementors!" Ginny yelled.
"Happy thoughts girls," Sirius yelled pulling out his wand. "Your happiest memory." Sirius thought of the day his name had been cleared and pointed his wand at the dementor that flew at him.
"Expecto Patronum!" he yelled and sent a patronus shaped like a dog toward the dementor.
"Expecto Patronum!" Lucy yelled a silver dove flying from her wand and sending the dementor that flew at her head speeding away.
"Expecto Patronum!" Ginny screamed. The dementor that had drawn close to Ginny's face dashed away being chased by a cheetah. The more patronus they sent at them the more numerous the dementors became. Sirius continued to fight as Lucy was forced to her knees, her hands clamped over her ears and Ginny curled up into a fetal position and whimpered. "No," she moaned," no, Tom please." Sirius felt himself being forced down as the images of James and Lily's lifeless faces flew through his mind.
"NO!" Sirius yelled. "I won't let you harm them! They are my children!" The memory of the day Harry and Lucy moved into Grimmauld Place fresh in his mind Sirius leaped to his feet.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" From Sirius's wand the form of a great golden stag shot forth. Sirius watched in awe as the Stag ran rampant driving every last dementor away.
"Prongs," he whispered.
"Harry's patronus," Lucy said from her position on her knees. "A stag"
"It makes sense," Ginny said coming over to them slowly and wrapping her arms around Lucy. "We're in Harry's nightmare. Facing his demons. Makes sense that it would be his patronus we'd need to fight the dementors"
"What were youthinking of," Lucy asked. "It may be important later." Sirius ran a hand through his hair.
"The day you and Harry moved into Grimmauld Place. The happiest day of my life and apparently Harry's too." Lucy looked at him astonished. "I never knew that," she said.