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Chapter 19: Kissed
"Your NEWTS may seem like everything to you now, but this"- Professor Lupin flicked on the old-style projector - "is why we study Defence against the Dark Arts."
The class hushed.
A young child, five or six years old, stared down at them from the wall. If curiosity had ever lit the girl's big, green eyes, and if laughter had ever tumbled out of her rosy cheeks, there was no trace of it now. She looked as if she'd been carved from wax.
The image was still and had been taken from a muggle newspaper. A caption read: "Above: Lucy Walsh, diagnosed with severe post-traumatic stress disorder of unknown cause."
Angelina, the Gryffindor chaser, broke the silence,
"Who would curse such a young child?"
"She was not cursed," Lupin replied. "She was kissed."
Mutters erupted around the class like bubbles in water on a hot stove. Someone asked,
"But how?" followed by another,
"What on earth was she doing in Azkaban?"
"She was nowhere near Azkaban." Lupin's stern voice cut through the muttering. Behind him, the girl watched like a porcelain doll. "She was playing on a street near her home. I know it's painful to accept, but we cannot deny what it means when the soul has been sucked from a muggle child." Lupin paused and each student felt the weight of his gaze. "Lord Voldemort has returned and the dementors are under His control." Several people gasped at the dark wizard's name. "It is therefore of utmost importance that we practice the patronus charm as it is the only effective means of combating dementors."
A prickly wave washed over Róisín as her hair began to stand up. Would a dementor be able to tell she was different?
Lupin took out his wand and pronounced clearly,
"Expecto Patronum!"
A large wolf, shaggy like the professor's own attire, prowled out of his wand. Lupin explained how to conjure a patronus by focusing on positive memories while the students admired the shimmering creature. Then they started practicing themselves.
Róisín flicked her wand with frustration as she tried the charm for the tenth time. A tiny wisp of white sprouted and disappeared. The haunted face projected on the wall judged her feeble attempts, and even when Róisín shut her eyes the girl was still visible, burnt onto her retina like the sun.
Half an hour later, a silky cat poured out of Anna's wand.
"Excellent, excellent, Miss Battworth!" Lupin exclaimed. "I'm not surprised you're the first to conjure a corporal form." Anna beamed at him as her patronus slinked around his legs. Róisín felt a pang of envy.
"What were you thinking of?" she asked Anna.
"That time last summer, remember I slept over and you could not stop laughing for like, half an hour?" Róisín frowned, thinking, Anna pressed on, "Remember I put the clothes in the dishwasher to wash them, trying to be helpful, and I couldn't understand what I'd done wrong?"
"Oh yeah!" Róisín giggled at the memory. "The look on my mum's face!"
By the end of class Róisín's patronus had barely improved. The only other student to achieve a corporal form was Angelina, whose proud lioness circled the room. As her classmates filed out Róisín approached Lupin at his desk.
"Sir, I was just wondering, did the dementor know that child was a muggle? Can they see like humans do, or do they sense you in a different way?"
The scar spanning Lupin's face creased as he sat back, thinking.
"Yes, the dementor would have known, they can sense the nature of the living things around them. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious," Róisín replied nonchalantly, although her heart clenched as though she'd tripped. She thanked her professor and hurried off to catch up with Anna and Ida.
That night, Róisín slept with her candles lit, as every time she blew them out she couldn't help but imagine a swarm of dementors looming around her bed in the darkness.