1 Hour : 45 Minutes : Forty Seconds
(Draco Malfoy)
Draco feels stupid. It has taken him around fifteen minutes just to recall the complex spell. His mind strays to Hremione. Of course, she would know how to conjure a talking Patronus in a second. She was just brilliant like that. Draco amuses himself for a moment with a mental picture of Hermione smiling at him, shaking her fist in mock-anger and commanding, " Draco, you really need to learn that spell. It's quite simple really." She rolls up her sleeve and flicks her wand nimbly. And when the beautiful, semi-transparent otter is done ambling around the room, Draco takes her into his arms and tells her how much he means to , if he could only...
Draco comes back to reality with a thud. Unfortunately, his fleeting vision didn't remind him how to use the spell. He rolls up his own dark sleeve and whispers, " Expecto Patronum." He screws up his face in concentration and tries again. All he can produce is a maddening wisp of silver vapor. Try as he might, he can't find a happy memory. Then, it comes to him, as out-of-the-blue as the talking Patronus idea had been. The first time he had seen Hermione. He can remember that day as clearly as if it had just happened only moment ago. Because it was so precious to him. Because in that very moment, he knew that he loved her. It was as simple as that.
He was only eleven years old at the time. He was anxious and more than a little apprehensive. It would be the most time that he had ever spent away from home. Draco was pushing a trolley laden with his eagle owl and his school things. It was the first time he had ever boarded the Hogwarts Express, and he was scared. But someone's comforting face stood out among the crowd, someone who looked like they had done this many times before, even though she was as young as him. It was her. Hermione. Everything about her seemed so sureal, so perfect. Her sparkling eyes, the dimples in her pink cheeks. The way she carried herself, so gracefully for someone only eleven. She looked so beautiful, even in her plain Muggle clothes, that Draco just stood there amid the crowd of students and stared at her. He felt inexplicably better, though she hadn't spoken a word to him. He was deserate to get to her, just to hear her voice, which must have have sounded like a chorus of angels. But the crowd pushed him aside, and Draco was shunted into the train, catching a last fleeting glance of her before he was whisked into a compartment. That was before Draco became tanished in Hermione's eyes, before their relationship fell into ruin beyond repair. This bittersweet memory works, and Draco's Patronus appears. The vitreous, silver tiger erupts into being from the tip of his wand, and into it he speaks his desperate message for the girl he loves.