PART ONE

CHAPTER THREE: DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS

When he walked in the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, his impression was that it looked a lot like the classroom of his third year with Professor Lupin. Hence, it was exactly as a Defence Against the Dark Arts should be.

The desks had been pushed against the wall for the first class. A few objects lay in the middle of the room. Some of them he recognised; some others he was not so familiar with. There was a Foe glass, a couple of other dark detectors that he had seen in Moody's office, some very big spiders in a locked cage (Ron gave a sudden shudder), glass bowls of many sizes filled with various insects, and a cupboard that kept shaking violently as students were poring in the classroom.

"Good morning, class", said James Potter.

He was wearing black from head to toe and a robe that was a lot like Snape's cloak, with the only difference that James looked much more casual in it. His entire outfit was also including messed up hair which looked a lot like Harry's, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Please put all your books away and take your wands out, everyone. We will do a bit of reviewing today," he said happily.

Whispers of excitement and apprehension started to rise. Hermione did not seem exasperated by the fact that they would not be putting their noses in books for this class. Instead, she looked very full of herself, surrounded still as she was by the same group of girls, and she was eyeing the professor with great interest. Harry had not seen Hermione looking at anyone like this since Gilderoy Lockhart had been their teacher.

Suddenly, Harry heard a hissing sound. This time, it wasn't Hermione. It was hushed and eerie like a murmur.

"Practisss time. Bring usss out of the bowlsss. Bring usss out!"

Harry wheeled around, looking for the source of the voice. He had not heard anything like it since the Chamber of Secrets had been opened in his second year.

He spotted the bowls in question along the wall and under a long table in the shades.

"Snakes," thought Harry. He tried to get a closer look but Hermione's group of giggling girls was blocking the way and his father had begun his instructions.

"In the spirit of the Triwizard Tournament", said James Potter, "I've put together three tasks for you to perform. You will all be graded on how well you succeed. In exactly one hour, we will have a champion of the class."

There were cheers from the students. Harry distinctively heard Ron say "Wicked!" Apparently, Harry's dad was a cool teacher.

"Naturally, I would expect the student who becomes class champion to put forth his or her name in the Goblet of Fire. But, the decision is of course a personal one for everyone who wishes to enter the tournament. I have to admit that historically the champion has always been either a sixth or seventh year student." He was staring at each and everyone of his student with great admiration and pride. "But this year might be an exception."

Everyone clapped really hard at that last comment. Harry thought that this class must be really advanced or his father wouldn't show so much content towards his students. Harry did not want to disappoint his father, of course. However, his only decent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had been Professor Lupin, and that was one out of three years of material to cover.

"You can begin with any task you desire, but you must do all three. Please choose a partner to keep each other's scores."

Harry stepped towards Ron, hoping that they could team up, but Neville was already pulling him over to the set up of the first task.

In one corner of the class, there was a trunk lying on the floor and besides was a table with different bowls of insects. The instructions said: "Find the key that opens the lock on the trunk. The selection of keys is in the glass bowls. You can pick a key from any bowl, but you only get one try to open the lock. Careful! The creatures in the bowls are either poisonous or flesh-eating."

"You have to pick the right key," concluded Neville. "Knowing your dad, it's probably in the bowl with the most disgusting things in it."

Harry was not looking at the bowls but at the lock. It was an old square thing and the hole was very big. He figured that the key had to be old-fashioned and enormous, thus easy to spot inside the small bowls. This was reminding his of the time he, Ron and Hermione had gone down the trapdoor to save the Philosopher's Stone. He quickly glanced at Ron. Ron was looking at the bowl full of spiders, shuddering and muttering to himself. In the meantime, Dean had put his hand in a bowl of slimy slugs. His hand was now covered in pustules, but he had the key and it was an old-fashioned one. However, it wasn't the right one; it was too small.

"At least we know that the key is not in this bowl," said Ron, looking apprehensively at Dean's hand.

"Have I mentioned that the keys change bowls once someone has tried out a wrong one?" said Harry's dad, a malicious smile on his face.

"But sir", said Hermione, "how are we supposed to pick the right one if they keep changing bowls? We can hardly see what's at the bottom with all these… things." She was eyeing the slugs with great discuss.

"There must be a trick," whispered Harry to Neville.

"Well, I'm going to see what the other tasks are like," replied Neville.

Harry followed him. The second task was the cupboard. It didn't take long for Harry to realise that the creature inside it was a Boggart. Pavarti Patil was looking at a very large shark head and saying "Ridikkulus!" with as much strength as she could. It wasn't enough. The Boggart was advancing on her.

Harry motioned towards the creature instinctively but his father was quicker. James Potter placed himself in front of the Boggart, pushing back Harry and Pavarti with his free hand as he did so. Instantly, the Boggart assumed the form of a werewolf. Harry was stunned. He could not imagine his father being afraid of werewolves considering that his friend Remus Lupin was one. Yet there it was. Harry's father sent the Boggart back in the cupboard with a shift movement of his wand.

"Who's next?" said James. "Nev?"

But Neville was already moving to the other task. It was where all the mirrors and dark detectors were cluttered up. The instructions said: "Master your foe."

Harry moved closer to the Foe glass, but Neville would not go a step further.

"My dad says that I ought to stay away from Foe glasses," said Neville thoughtfully and quietly so that only Harry could hear. "I might see You-Know-Who in it because he tried to kill me when I was a baby. Do you reckon that's true?"

Harry didn't know what to reply. For his part, the Foe glass was only showing green smokes and shadowy forms.

"Master your foe," read Harry out loud. "It's a riddle. The foe depends on the person that is looking."

Harry looked around. Lavender Brown was bent over a rotating glass ball, a dark detector that Harry had seen in Dumbledore's office. A tear was rolling down her face. "Oh, no!" she said. "It's the grim! I'm doomed!" And she buried her face on Hermione's shoulder.

"Of course," thought Harry as an idea hit him. "It's brilliant!"

"I don't think Lavender is enjoying this," Neville murmured, sounding concerned.

"Neville", said Harry, "what are you afraid of?"

"What?"

Harry pulled Neville apart from the rest of the other students.

"The tasks are designed to force us to face our fears: the disgusting insects, the Boggart, the foes. It all fits! If you succeed at the first two tasks, then the Foe glass will show no enemies because you will have mastered your foes. Get it?"

Harry was talking very fast and very excitedly, but low enough so that only Neville would hear.

"Yeah, I get it. It makes sense. This is the type of exercise your dad would put up," agreed Neville. "I don't know why you're so happy, though. I still don't like lightning and I'm not looking forward to being struck by it when the cupboard opens."

Harry was reminded of the very shy, very nervous Neville who had been afraid of Severus Snape. That Neville had helped him to find Gillyweed on the second Triwizard task. Harry wasn't sure that he had paid him back properly. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.

"There's nothing to fear but fear itself," Harry muttered to Neville's ear.

"Huh?"

But Harry was already dragging Neville towards the huge trunk and the many disgusting insects.

"Neville, it's all about not being afraid. What are most disgusting things like spiders and slugs usually afraid of?"

"Err. Humans? Magic?" said Neville, puzzled. "And you called me Neville again, Harry," he added on questioningly. "That's just weird…"

"Light!" Harry almost cried out loud. "Do you think that if the insects would step out of the bowls we could get the key that we need?"

Neville's face became illuminated in a large smile. "Harry! This might work!"

"Let's try it out, then."

Neville said "Lumos!" and the tip of his wand lit up in a glowing sliver light. Harry readied his hand to dig in the bowls. As soon as Neville's wand tip entered the first bowl, the spiders inside it stepped aside to escape the bright light. Some of the spiders even stepped out, crawling on the table and causing hysterical screams from a few girls. Harry looked at the key at the bottom of the bowl. It looked too small.

"Not this one. Next bowl, Neville."

The others were looking at them in wonder as they did every single bowl. There didn't seem to be a key big enough, however, even when they had gone through all the bowls. Neville seemed quite put out by this.

"Well, it was a good idea," he said, wiping some green slime from his wand.

Harry was thinking. There had to be another trick. The key must be hidden somehow.

He pointed at one bowl and said quietly "Reveal your secret" as Snape had done to examine the Marauder's Map, but there was no result. Harry wasn't sure that it was a real spell, but he was running out of ideas.

Neville decided to imitate him and did the same thing for the second bowl, and something happened. One of the insects, a big spider, started to glow in an orange light.

"That's one big spider," said Neville. "Why is it glowing?"

"Because it's not a spider!" replied Harry, realising in a flash that the spell had worked after all and what it implied. He moved in closer to Neville. "Don't you see? He's transfigured the key! All we've got to do is put an end to the charm."

"How?" asked Neville.

Harry directed his wand to the glowing spider and Neville imitated him.

"Finite incantatem!" said Harry.

The spider made a funny bubbling sound and turned into a key. The piece of metal fell at the bottom of the bowl with a clunk. Harry used the Lumos charm and Neville was able to cease the key. Harry was quite proud of his performance so far. When he looked around, however, he realised that the other students were congratulating Neville. Then again, he remembered, he had intended to help Neville in the first place. He should have expected this.

"Well done, Nev. Well done!" said Harry's dad.

"Go on, Nev," said Ron enthusiastically. "Try it in the lock."

But the key did not fit. Neville looked at it from all angles, and then he handed it back to Harry.

"It was a good show, Harry", he said sympathetically, "but the key's too small."

Harry was examining the key and the lock. The key was the right shape. Then the solution hit him.

He pointed his wand at the key and said: "Ingorgio!"

The key became one size bigger. It was now a perfect fit for the lock. Harry unlocked the trunk and there was a thunder of applause from the surrounding crowd.

"That was awesome, Harry!" said Neville.

But Harry was already moving on to the second task and leading Neville to the cupboard. He still had in mind to repay his friend for the help at the Triwizard Tournament; therefore, he did not want to take all the credit for their performance in the first task.

"Come on, Neville. You can do the Boggart."

Neville did not seem so sure, but he had time to gather himself because it was Hermione's turn to face the Boggart. She was pointing her wand at the cupboard very firmly. Then the ground seemed to shake from right under their feet; Harry could have sworn it. Suddenly, the cupboard burst opened and a huge mountain troll came out of it. It was so enormous that the side of the cupboard had split opened. Hermione let out a feeble yelp and the other girls that were standing close behind her went very pale all of the sudden. Clearly, Hermione had not expected her Boggart to take the size of a troll as well as the shape.

Harry, Neville, Ron, Dean and Seamus thought it rather funny to watch the group of girls speechless (for once) as the troll was advancing on Hermione. But the fun only lasted a minute, because the next moment, Hermione had fallen on her back and the troll was now menacingly lifting its huge foot and was about to crush her.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry hurried forward and placed himself between Hermione and the troll. The result was of course that the troll disappeared and it became instead a tall and hooded Dementor. Now the girls were screaming, but Harry didn't hear. The voices around him sounded distant and faint. The cold was sweeping over him like a wave. The Dementor was too close. It was happening too fast. He wasn't ready. He couldn't think. The screams were filling his brain now. They were his screams of pain. A cruel voice was laughing and yelling "Crucio!". Harry closed his eyes tight. There was nothing he could have done to stop Voldemort torturing him. He felt the Dementor press both its hands on his neck, pulling him closer to its ugly mouth, leaning in for the kiss.

"It's not a real Dementor," he thought. But he couldn't find anything funny to make the Ridikkulus charm work.

He heard Voldemort's voice whisper to him: "I'm going to kill you, Harry Potter." Then there was another scream. It was himself. He was screaming in agony and Voldemort was laughing. It was a cold, pitiless laughter. "Don't you turn your back on me, Harry Potter! I want to see the light leave your eyes!" yelled the voice of Voldemort again. Harry was terrified. He couldn't move. He was reliving the night in the graveyard. That horrible night. Cedric had died, and his parents…

But his parents were not dead. Not anymore. Harry suddenly saw their faces in his mind's eyes. They were not ghosts or smoke-like. They were real.

"Expecto patronum!" he cried as loudly as he could.

The wand in his hand was pointing directly at the Dementor's belly. The Dementor was so close that the wand was actually touching it. Harry saw the string of silvery smoke emerge out of the Dementor's back. The creature was pushed backwards by the strength of the spell and landed on the cupboard which crashed into pieces.

Silver-white light was bathing the entire classroom. Harry fell to his knees but still held the wand upwards at the Dementor, in case it tried to approach him again. The light was decreasing steadily now.

The black hooded monster turned into many frightening things, including a spider and a werewolf, and then it leaned on its side and stopped altogether, a mixture of brown fur, black feathers and red slime lying in the wreckage. The Boggart was dead.

Harry was not surprised that his dad immediately called the end of the class, and declared that Neville Longbottom was the class champion. Everyone was soon congratulating Neville on his performance with the key and the insects, and the dead Boggart was more or less forgotten. Harry saw his dad write a name on a bit of parchment and stuff it in Neville's hand.

"There you go, Neville. Now go and put it in the Goblet of Fire. Good luck!"

Neville was glancing back at Harry as the other Gryffindor were pushing him hurriedly out of the classroom. He didn't seem very enthusiastic about putting his name in the Goblet of Fire. Harry took a few steps towards the door to follow the crowd, but his father stopped him with one strong hand on his shoulder.

"Go on, Nev. Harry will join you later."

And with that, Neville and the rest of the Gryffindor left the room.

Harry wasn't sure why, but he knew that he was in trouble. His father said nothing as he closed the door. He then went to the shapeless Boggart, pulled out his wand and conjured up a long black sheet of fabric that covered the dead Boggart like a blanket.

Harry tried to move closer, but he was still very weak from the effect of the Dementor and the Patronus spell. He swayed on the spot and had to grab the side of the table to regain his balance. He thought that Professor Lupin would have given him a piece of chocolate right away. His father, however, did not seem to think that his son needed it. Instead, James Potter went to sit behind his desk and he did not offer to Harry to sit down. He looked very severe.

"Killing monsters isn't the point of this class, Harry." He said after a long silence.

"I didn't mean to, dad", said Harry apologetically.

But James Potter gave him an even more reproaching look.

"You will address me as Professor."

Harry looked down. He couldn't bare the look of disappointment on his father's face. The Patronus charm was very advanced magic. Why couldn't his father be proud of him?

"Sorry," said Harry very weakly.

He could feel the cold sweat on his face still. His screams of pain were ringing in his ears. He could also hear Voldemort's voice, frightful and very much alive. His father couldn't possibly guess what the Dementor's effect was on him, how horrible it felt. Harry knew that he only acted to defend himself from those horrible memories.

"Being sorry isn't good enough this time," said his father sternly.

Harry could tell that he was making every effort not to shout at him.

"I've warned you over and over. Why do you keep meddling with spells that are too advanced for your age? Why can't you just keep to your textbooks? What are you trying to prove?"

Harry didn't find anything to reply but a feeble "I'm sorry" once more.

"Performing advanced spells isn't going to bring you fame or popularity or friends. You're lucky enough that you have Neville, but you cannot be like him, Harry. You expect too much."

"I didn't… I'm not… it wasn't about…" Harry began to say. He couldn't believe that his father would think that he was trying to attract attention and be more popular.

James Potter was shaking his head in total dismay. Harry started to wish he had never seen this look on his father's face.

"It pains me to say it, but you're a show off, Harry", his dad said harshly. "You have been since your first year, but this year it's got to stop. Someone besides you will be school champion. Someone else will have eternal glory, and it will be someone who deserves it. Do you understand, Harry?"

Harry could only stare at his feet. He had not imagined that his father would have such an opinion of him. Had he ever been a show off? He was not famous anymore. He wasn't the Boy Who Lived. He didn't have the scar. He was a normal fourth year student now and that was what he had wished for. Could there be a part of him that still wanted the fame? If there was, he would fight it so that his father would never have that disappointed look on his face again.

"Yes, sir, I understand," he said firmly.

"Good. Now tell me who taught you how to conjure a Patronus."

Harry couldn't look up. His stomach felt very tight. He didn't want to lie to his father, but he had no choice now.

"I learned about it in a book," he said hastily.

"Don't lie to me, Harry!" shouted James Potter. Then he took a deep breath. He seemed to be trying to calm himself down. "Don't lie. Was it Sirius?"

"No!" Harry said quickly.

The last thing he wanted was to cause a fight between Sirius and his dad. Besides, it would be a lie too. Professor Lupin had taught him the Patronus Charm. Sirius was not involved.

"I learned it in a book, that's all," he said, trying to sound convincing. "It was just a book."

His dad didn't look convinced at all. He remained silent a moment, staring at Harry with searching eyes.

"The Patronus Charm should not be used as a weapon. Surely your book told you that."

"No," Harry replied quietly.

He thought bitterly that Professor Lupin had not told him anything about a Patronus being anything else but a protective force.

"I will be writing to your mother," concluded his father. "I will also tell Professor McGonagall to put a second strike to your file for 'improper use of magic in a classroom'. If you put another toe out of line, I'm sending you home. Don't think that I'll make an exception because you're my son. You can go now."

Harry stared at his father for a moment, but James was not paying attention to him anymore. He had pulled out a piece of parchment and was beginning to write.

Harry gathered his school bag and books and left the room feeling very miserable. He knew that the teachers did give out strikes easily. It was only applied when the student had committed a dangerous or potentially harmful spell. Harry couldn't believe what his Patronus had done to the Boggart. He wanted to ask Lupin about it, but he didn't know if he could in this new reality.

His feet carried him slowly towards the Great Hall where the students were gathered up, watching whoever was coming to put their name in the Goblet of Fire. It was Ginny who spotted him first when he walked in. She came up to him and put her hand softly on his forearm.

"Harry, you look awful. Nev told me about the Boggart. What was that spell you used?"

"Patronus Charm," he said. There was no point in lying to Ginny.

Neville came up behind her. Colin and Dennis Creevey were following him closely, patting him on the back.

"Well done, Nev. I'm sure you'll be the Hogwarts champion, Nev," Colin was saying happily over and over.

Neville turned around and pushed Colin back very harshly. Colin didn't look like he was getting the message, though. He and his brother retreated with the other Gryffindors who were all continuously congratulating Neville from distance. Neville was obviously getting very annoyed with all the attention that was on him in the room. He didn't look very pleased at all.

"Let's get out of here, mate," he said.

With no further comment, he grabbed Harry by the arm and led him out of the Great Hall. Ginny was walking besides them, keeping up with their fast pace. They climbed unto the portrait hole. The Gryffindor Common Room was deserted, luckily enough. Harry let himself collapse on the couch in front of the fireplace, his favourite place when he had been friend with Ron and Hermione. He kept his eyes on the moving flames. His father's voice shouting at him was still on his mind. It seemed like he would never forget the awful look of disappointment on his father's face. Neither Neville nor Ginny said anything for a while. Harry almost forgot that they were there.

Then he felt something drop on his lap.

"It's a good thing you keep those handy, Ginny," said Neville as Harry noticed that she had given him a piece of chocolate.

Harry looked at it for a second and started to eat it absent-mindedly.

"How many points did he take from Gryffindor?" asked Ginny quietly, her eyes fixed on Harry.

"None," said Harry, thinking. "He's putting a strike to my file."

"Another?" said Neville. "I'm sorry, mate. You seem to be getting those for all the wrong reasons."

Harry looked at them. He didn't want to ask how he had gotten the first strike; that would be a weird question. He could never convince Neville and Ginny that he had forgotten about a thing like that. Yet he felt very curious about it.

"You don't think that I deserved it the last time?" he asked casually, making himself comfortable on the couch. The chocolate was making feel rather warm and calm inside.

"Are you kidding? You saved the school from the Basilisk!"

"You shouldn't feel guilty about that diary," supplied Ginny understandingly. "It could have been anyone. You were trying very hard to fight it."

"My dad didn't think so," said Harry. He was beginning to understand. He had been the one under the influence of Tom Riddle's diary in his second year. He had opened the Chamber of Secrets. He had set the monster loose.

"Your dad doesn't have a clue you that you saved the school, Harry," said Ginny. "All he knows is that you found the diary and opened the Chamber of Secrets while you were under its spell. He doesn't know how you fought back the spell and destroyed the diary and then killed the Basilisk all by yourself. He doesn't know the whole story. You stopped You-Know-Who's return that night! And even more importantly, you didn't let him control you. That was quite something, Harry."

"That's right," added Neville. "And I still can't believe you let Lockhart take all the credit. He was trying to steal your dad's job, and he walked out with the Order of Merlin! It should have been you."

Harry was feeling somewhat more cheerful. At least, Neville and Ginny didn't think that he was a show off. Also, he was beginning to understand the meaning of what Ginny had said in the train: he wasn't in the habit of telling his father everything.

"Thanks," he said, taking another bite of chocolate.

"You do have a knack for getting in trouble," said Ginny. She was smiling at him. The fire was making her eyes brighter. "But this year, you're just going to sit back and enjoy the Triwizard Tournament. You didn't put your name in the Goblet, did you, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. The thought had not even crossed his mind. Yet now that he was thinking about it, he was not sure how he would be able to stop Voldemort's return if he was not participating in the Triwizard tasks.

"I think that it's wise that you're not participating in the tournament, Harry," continued Ginny thoughtfully.

"There's no guarantee that he would have been selected, Gin," Neville pointed out.

"Harry's name would have come out, Neville, and you know it. Harry fears Dementors, and that's the fear of fear itself. It's the sign of a very powerful wizard. Remus Lupin says that it's very wise."

Harry's stomach jumped when he heard the name. He was glad that someone had finally mentioned Professor Lupin. Now he would have to find out from Ginny how to get in touch with him.

Ginny turned to Harry, her eyes full of admiration and something else too; Harry couldn't figure out what it was. He chose to ignore it for the moment. What he needed now was to focus on finding out if he could get in touch with his dad's old school friend, Remus Lupin.

"Professor Lupin didn't tell me the Patronus could be dangerous," said Harry tentatively.

"Maybe he didn't think that you would be able to produce one that strong. All you could achieve last year was a wisp of silver smoke," Ginny offered.

"There is no greater power than to master one's own fear," said Neville dreamily. "Remember when Lupin wrote that? I kept the letter. I kept all his letters, actually. For reference, you know. I like Lupin. He always has good advice, and he doesn't treat us like kids. It's a shame he and your dad don't speak anymore, Harry, but it does have one advantage."

"What's that?" asked Harry.

"You can ask him anything, and your dad will never know."