Harry was definitely sure that his two friends were behaving strangely. Whenever they were all together, he would constantly catch them glancing at one another, as if they were trying to spot the other doing it. He found it incredibly odd and extremely frustrating, mainly because he didn't know the reason behind it. He assumed that they were being nervous around him after his tirade in Hogsmeade. They must have been looking at one another because they'd been practising walking on eggshells around him. That had to be it. It was like they believed that one wrong word would set him off again, like any mention of Sirius Black would drive him over the edge. He believed that he had the right to have such an emotional reaction. He'd just learnt that his family had been betrayed by the same man who was now hunting him down. It wasn't a normal situation, far from it. It had certainly done its best to ruin Christmas, which had been a subdued affair.

The problem he now faced was that he couldn't think of anything else. During the festive season, there had been no classes or homework to distract, despite Hermione attempting to coral him into doing some. And now, with the return of lessons, they weren't providing enough of an outlet for his troubled mind. In fact, he was barely paying attention, which had seen ten points lost for Gryffindor in Potions and a stern word sent his way from McGonagall in Transfiguration. His friends would sometimes broach the subject but he could understand the difficulty they were facing too. As he'd realised, this wasn't a normal situation, which meant there was no established solution for them to work from. They were doing their best, which he appreciated. But he needed more, something substantial. Something that he could focus on single mindedly until Sirius Black was removed from his life for good.

Which was why he was in a surprisingly good mood after his first Defence Against the Dark Arts class of the new term. He hadn't forgotten the promise Lupin had made him, and he had brought it up as soon as the students were filing out for the next period. The professor, although still looking tired and rather worse for wear, had agreed almost immediately. Harry had considered asking Matthew and Hermione whether they wanted to join in with the tutoring, but a part of him wanted this for himself. He never did things on his own. He always had them next to him, helping him, answering the questions, getting to show off their magical prowess. This was his turn to do that. So, on a cold Thursday evening, he left the common room with barely another word said, and made his way to what he hoped would be an exciting experience.

The classroom was empty when he reached it and he was forced to light the candles himself so he could see properly. It was always strange being in one of these rooms when it wasn't for a lesson, as if it were against the rules, as if he were trespassing. But Lupin arrived no more than five minutes after Harry, which assured him that he wasn't about to get a visit from Filch for the violation. The older man was tucking a scruffy piece of parchment into his jacket as he came through the door, not that Harry was able to see what it said. He put that to the back of his mind, immediately wanting to get started. He watched quietly as Lupin dragged a large suitcase, bolted shut and tied closed with a few leather belts, and dumped it onto the table at the head of the room.

"Another boggart," Lupin explained, not needing to wait for Harry to ask the obvious question. He shrugged off his cloak, revealing just how skinny and gaunt he truly was at the moment. "I've been combing the castle ever since you brought it up earlier this week. It was very fortunate that I discovered this one hiding away in a filing cabinet in Mister Filch's…let's call it an office, shall we? It's the nearest we can get to a dementor without inviting the real deal inside. After what you told me last time we had a meeting, I'm sure that the boggart will turn into a dementor upon seeing you, and then we'll be able to practise on it. I've already picked out the cupboard space it'll love in my office for storage in between these little sessions."

"It's going to take more than one session?" Harry asked, not that he was bothered. He was, in fact, thrilled by the prospect. The longer this took, the more his mind would be distracted and that was the main goal of this. Besides actually learning how to ward off those foul creatures.

"Oh, definitely, Harry. I would be amazed if you can produce anything tonight, not that there's any pressure. I'm free for as long as you require my services." He produced his wand and indicated that Harry should do the same. "The spell I'm going to teach you - or at least attempt to - is highly advanced magic. Well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. I doubt even your two studious friends have heard of it. It is called the Patronus charm."

Harry was even more excited by the comment about his friends. This truly was his chance to do something they couldn't. Not like parseltongue or being famous, which he had no control over. This was something they could all achieve, but he'd finally be the first to do it.

"How does it work then?" He was clutching his wand just a bit tighter in anticipation.

"When it works correctly, which again, I might add, is very difficult to achieve…it produces a Patronus. A Patronus is basically an anti-Dementor force, a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the creature. In a simplified manner, a Patronus is an amalgamation of positivity, a physical representation of everything that a Dementor usually feeds upon. It embraces things like hope, happiness and a willingness to survive but, crucially, it cannot feel despair, meaning it can't be affected by the dementor. To produce something of such pure positive emotion is often beyond the most advanced of wizards, Harry, which is why I'm constantly trying to temper your expectations. Even if that makes me sound like a broken record."

Harry wondered how Lupin knew about records in the first place. Did wizards have a version of them too? He didn't need to be asking about that though. He needed to show Lupin that he was properly serious about doing this. "What does a patronus look like?"

"It's a difficult thing to answer. Each one is unique to the caster of the spell."

"How do you conjure it?" He was just desperate to get started. He needed this desperately.

"With an incantation, like most spells. But this requires more than just that. You must concentrate solely on one singular happy memory. You have to put all of your might into it."

Harry wanted to consider what happy memories he had to work with. There was definitely none that involved the Dursleys. Trapping Dudley in the snake enclosure was probably as close as it got but that came with the baggage of the treatment he'd received in response from his uncle. Most of his happy memories revolved around the two most important people in his life, and the one that came to the forefront of his mind was when they had rescued him from the Dursleys during that first Summer away after Hogwarts. The phone call he had got from Matthew and Hermione's arrival at the front door had lifted his spirits more than anything in the past. He clutched the thought tightly, so much that it felt like it was burning.

"The incantation is Expecto Patronum ," Lupin explained, watching as Harry closed his eyes shut. Harry repeated the phrase like a mantra, wanting to get it spot on. "Are you focusing on your happy memory?"

He'd almost forgotten that bit with how much pressure he'd put on himself to get the spell right. "Oh yeah." Hermione and Matthew. Matthew and Hermione. Being there for you just because they wanted, not because they had to. "Expecto…Patronus…no, that's not it…hang on…Expecto Patronum!"

Harry shouted the words into the air, opening his eyes to see the barest of silvery whisps escaping from his wand. He was practically sweating from the amount of focus he'd been using but he was still jubilant.

"Did you see that?" he exclaimed giddily, jumping up and down. "Something happened!"

Lupin smiled at him. "Very good. But the real test is still to come. Are you ready to try it on a Dementor?"

That certainly brought Harry back to reality. "Yes," he answered, but he discovered that his wand hand was now shaking ever so slightly. He concentrated hard on keeping it steady. He told himself to think about his friends. Think about Matthew's voice and how he had made Aunt Petunia practically run off in fright. Think about Hermione's smile and the sensation of her arms around him as they'd hugged. But another thought kept creeping into his mind against his wishes. If a Dementor was going to appear, then it was entirely possible that he was going to hear his mother screaming again. He didn't want that, not now. Not after what he'd learnt. And now the face of Sirius Black, all twisted, gaunt and manic, was looming in his head, cackling loudly. He could picture the man standing over their dead bodies, or him standing in the street just after killing poor Peter Pettigrew.

Lupin was obviously oblivious to Harry's torment as he reached out to the crate with his wand. The straps undid themselves and the lock fell to the ground. The lid sprang open and, through the darkness, the shadowy figure of a Dementor rose upwards. Its cold hands twisted as they moved towards Harry. The lights in the classroom flickered as they struggled to stave off the growing cold. Its rattling breath seemed to be magnified as it floated closer.

"Expecto…Expecto Patronum!" Harry cried desperately before he was faced with those memories. Nothing happened. "Expecto Patronum!"

" Not Harry!" Not that voice, no. He didn't want to hear that voice again. Her voice. " Not Harry! Please! I'll do anything!"

"Stand aside. Stand aside you foolish girl!" That voice was somehow even worse. It was cold and dark, and could only belong to one being. Harry didn't want this. He wanted to run away and never have to face this again.

"Harry!"

Lupin's voice brought Harry back to the present. At some point, he had fallen to the floor because he was now staring directly up at the lofty ceiling above. The lamps were blazing undisturbed once more as if nothing had happened. Harry groaned loudly, only because he knew what must have happened.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, feeling pathetic. He could feel a cold sweat on his brow and he rubbed at it angrily.

"There's no need to apologise. Are you alright?" Lupin watched him carefully as he nodded his head. He held out a chocolate frog that he must have had on standby for this very eventuality. Harry saw it as a sign that he'd known this would have happened. "Here you go. Eat this before we go again. I didn't expect you to do it the first time. Frankly, I would have been astounded if you had."

"It's getting worse," Harry admitted, pausing to bite the head off the confectionery. "I could hear her louder this time…and Voldemort too."

Lupin looked very pale. "I will completely understand if you don't want to continue, Harry. I should have accepted that this would be a very difficult process for you…"

"No!" Harry blurted out immediately. "I need this! What if I run into the dementors again? It's only a matter of time before that happens with who they're chasing, so I need to be prepared."

"What do you mean, who they're chasing?" Lupin looked at him curiously before he shook his head. "No, that's not important. If you really want to do this…" He stopped as Harry vigorously nodded his head. "You might want to select another memory, something even happier than the last. Remember, you're having to battle against true darkness within you, which means the memory has to be of substantial note as well."

Harry was confused as to what could be happier. He considered the moment Hagrid had barged through the door to rescue him from the Dursleys, but that was tinged with the actual fear he'd been feeling before he'd discovered who it was. Then something cropped. His first proper birthday. When Hermione had made pancakes and Matthew had shown up unexpectedly. When they'd been able to act as kids, especially the boys when they'd laughed at Hermione's reaction to her face being cleaned by Matthew. That had been so joyous to Harry, something so precious. People going to the effort of celebrating him. Not because he was famous but because they actually liked who he was.

Lupin waited for him to show he was prepared. "Are you sure you're ready?" Again, Harry nodded his head. "Go!" The professor lifted up the lid a second time, the dementor once more rising to greet Harry. This time, he didn't pause, he didn't give it time to have an effect on him.

"Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!"

Harry was sure that the wisps emerged from the tip of his wand but any excitement he was feeling was soon neutralised. It was like a cloud washing over him. Blurred shapes moved around him, tantalisingly just out of reach.

"Lily, take Harry and go!" A new voice. A voice he hadn't heard before. Definitely male. It couldn't be… " It's him. Run, for goodness sake! I'll hold him off for as long as I can. Make the most of it." The blurred shapes stumbled around. A door could be heard splintering, soon followed by a high-pitched, cackling laugh.

"Harry! Wake up, Harry!"

Not again. He was lying on the floor. This was becoming too frequent an occurrence. Lupin was holding him by the shoulders, attempting to shake him from his stupor. Harry was grateful to be awake, but also didn't like the look of pity that was subtly etched onto Lupin's face. It told him all he needed to know.

"I heard my dad." Harry ran a hand over his face, hoping it disguised the fact he was wiping away at a new tear. "That's the first time I've heard him. He was…he was trying to hold off Voldemort, to let me and my mum escape in time. I guess it didn't work out." He was speaking in a strangely monotonous tone, as if it helped him take control of his swelling emotions.

"You heard James?" Lupin's voice was almost strangled as he whispered the question.

"Yeah…" Harry's brain took a few more moments to catch up. "Hold on…did you…know my dad?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. We were friends at Hogwarts." Lupin's expression was melancholic. "Now, come on, that's enough for one night."

"No!" Harry protested. "One more try! I think I can get a handle on this."

"It takes more than stubborn spirit to overcome one's demons, Harry. It will take longer than you want…but you have done exceptionally well for your first attempt." Lupin reached into his untidy jacket, producing a large bar of chocolate. Harry was starting to wonder whether he was keeping Honeydukes in business all on his own. "Eat this. And I mean all of it, otherwise Madam Pomfrey will be bending my ear for the next week. Probably longer."

Harry obediently did as he was told, not that it was a difficult task to bite off small blocks of sugary goodness. A thought occurred to him as he ate, now that his mind was slowly getting back to normal. "Professor…if you knew my dad, does that mean you also knew Sirius Black?"

Lupin, who had moved to start extinguishing the lamps, turned sharply. "What gives you that idea?"

Harry wouldn't say that the professor had snapped at him, but also hadn't been the friendliest of tones he'd used. "Nothing…it's just…I know that they were friends at school so I assumed…"

The older man's face softened. "Yes, I knew him. Or I suppose I thought I did. But that is a story for another time, not when you've been battered by a dementor. You should get going Harry. I look forward to our next session."

Harry didn't know what to make of that as he trudged back to Gryffindor Tower. It was the second time now that Lupin had acted suspiciously when Black's name had cropped up. Perhaps it was just down to the fact that he was a criminal and most people didn't want to discuss them, especially if they'd once been associated with them. The problem was that, although the activity had distracted him well enough, the way it had ended had only served to bring Sirius Black right back to the forefront of his thoughts. So much so that he nearly walked into a blubbering Neville Longbottom outside the common room portrait.

"What's the matter, Neville?" In truth, Harry didn't need this. He felt drained and just wanted to fall asleep. But he was never going to walk by when someone was in trouble.

"I had them!" the other boy wailed. "The passwords! After Sirius Black almost got in, they've started changing the passwords daily, so I wrote down all the ones I'd need for this week! But now I can't find the paper I used and I can't remember the one for today! And this…buffoon…won't let me in, even though I'm obviously a Gryffindor!"

"Come lock away this loon in chains!" a pompous voice called out. "He is trying to force entry!"

Harry rolled his eyes. After the ordeal the Fat Lady had gone through that terrifying night, they had temporarily replaced her with a new portrait. Sadly, the portrait in question was an old knight by the name of Sir Cadogan, who had an extremely high opinion of himself and believed he was still important. Despite the fact that he was most definitely two dimensional.

"Oddsbodkins," Harry muttered, not wanting to get dragged into a conversation with the knight. Begrudgingly, Sir Cadogan bid them entry, swinging open. Neville thanked Harry profusely before scuttling off, probably intending on writing down the passwords again. Once he found out what they actually were. Meanwhile, Harry walked into the main area of the common room. He was faintly aware of the Weasley clan huddling around Ron for some reason. But Harry was quickly distracted when he spotted his two friends in the corner, discussing something that seemed to be important. Hermione was holding her head in her hands, which immediately caught his attention, whilst Matthew was giving her a sympathetic look. They didn't even notice his approach, they were that lost in conversation.

"Why isn't it working?" Hermione was complaining. "I thought I would have been able to do something by now."

"Didn't I tell you that this was going to be difficult?" Matthew responded, patting her on the head. "The more you force it, the more it'll actively resist your attempts. It's very stubborn, which is why I thought you might work well together."

She lifted her head to glare at him for the comment, which allowed her to spot Harry walking up behind them. "Harry!" she exclaimed, perhaps in too excited a manner. "You're back!" Maybe they'd just missed him. He didn't really know what they did when he was around.

"What were you too just talking about?" he asked curiously. It sounded interesting, and he hated being left out.

Matthew waved a hand flippantly. "I've just been quizzing Hermione for an upcoming test. She keeps getting her goblin rebellions mixed up."

"It just won't sink in," she added, though it had taken a few seconds for her to speak after looking at Matthew in a funny fashion. Were there smiles a touch too large? Harry was finding their behaviour rather odd, but there was no clear reason for him to be thinking that. What confused him the most was that he was sure Hermione had recited all of the goblin rebellions in chronological order, along with the names of the important leaders, by the first month of their first year together. So why was she struggling now?

"Anyway, we're the ones who should be asking you questions!" Matthew had always been so deft at turning the attention and conversation away from him. "How did your session go? Is Lupin as good a teacher one on one as he is in front of a class?"

"It was alright." Harry didn't want to divulge too much about what had happened. Most of it had been deeply personal, memories he really didn't want to relive so soon after uncovering them. "I didn't manage anything spectacular."

"Well, you just have to keep trying. You'll get the hang of it in no time. When have you failed at anything before when you've put your mind to it?"

"I'm just disappointed that he's only got time to teach you," Hermione admitted. That had been a white lie Harry had told them to keep them asking too much about it. "I've read all about the magic surrounding dementors and it sounds incredibly complicated. I would have loved it."

Harry felt rather guilty for leaving them out now, especially with how Hermione's face had fallen. Matthew let out a huff. "I don't think I would have been good at it anyway."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You excel at everything. Since when have you ever been modest like this?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Some magic just isn't compatible for the caster. But I'm sure it will be for Harry!" He added that last bit hastily, as if he had to keep Harry's spirits up. "Anyway, we don't really have time for extracurricular activities. It's going to take an age for you to learn all about these rebellions." He gave Hermione a pointed look that Harry couldn't understand.

"Has anyone ever told you both that you're a bit weird?" Harry posed to them with an affectionate smirk.

"Constantly. But you wouldn't have us any other way. Now, sit yourself down. You're starting to make me all anxious, just loitering there."

Harry was so tired that he didn't have the energy to complain, flopping into the spare seat. He nodded his head over to the gaggle of Weasleys. "What's going on over there?"

Hermione's expression darkened. "Ronald's rat has gone missing and he's very distressed about it. He had the audacity to blame Crookshanks initially before Matthew had a stern word with him."

"All this fuss over a rat," Matthew said with a shake of his head. "Who cares about that?"

xxxxxxxxxx

Harry took Matthew's advice, choosing not to give up with his anti-dementor classes. For some reason, his friend had practically been adamant that he continue, though he just put that down to them wanting the best for him. But it was difficult to find the motivation after more weeks of barely any progress. Maybe he had set his sights too high but he had been wanting more by this point. He could consistently produce a silvery mist whenever the boggart-dementor appeared but it barely had any considerable effect on the creature. All it did was make it hover in one place, rather than driving it away like Harry had imagined. If this was all he could produce with one dementor, which wasn't even technically real, then how would he cope with an entire horde? Because, if Sirius Black came running, the whole army of dementors would be on his tail too.

He was feeling conflicted too, which didn't help him control his emotions sufficiently well enough for the spell. As harrowing as the memories were, they were his only way of hearing his parents' voices. Looking at the photograph album Hagrid had given to him was one thing, but to actually learn what they sounded like was on another level. Through the screams, he would try to imagine what his mum's voice would have sounded like whilst singing a lullaby to send him off to sleep. He wanted to know what his dad sounded like when cheering on his favourite quidditch team. But that wasn't the purpose of this, he kept telling himself that. It was a twisted manipulation of the reality he was facing, and he felt guilty whenever he failed, just because a small part of him had wanted to experience the memories one more time. It was just that his appetite was never fulfilled.

"You're expecting too much of yourself," Lupin said sternly towards the end of their fifth session together. He'd got rid of the boggart by this point, they crate tied closed which told Harry that the lesson was coming to an early end. "For a wizard of your age, even an indistinct patronus is a massive achievement! You should be proud of yourself. After all, you're no longer being rendered unconscious in their presence, which I know was one of your big concerns."

"I thought a patronus would make the dementor disappear," Harry said gloomily. "Like…attack it or something."

"A true Patronus does that. But, as I've said numerous times already, you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. Which I think calls for a drink." That took Harry by surprise, watching as the professor produced two cold bottles from his desk. "You can't go wrong with a butterbeer. I'm sure you've been enjoying this stuff during your trips to Hogsmeade."

"We can't get enough of the stuff," Harry concurred as he accepted the beverage. They drank in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the taste. But something was playing on his mind after getting up close and personal with the dementors. "What's under the hood? Of a dementor, I mean."

Lupin obviously hadn't been expecting the question. It wasn't the sort of smalltalk most people came up with. "Well…I suppose the only ones who can tell us are no longer in any fit shape to tell us. A dementor's hood is only lowered during its dreaded kiss, the final and most gruesome act it can think of."

"A kiss?" Harry didn't think that sounded too bad, though he was a teenage boy. Then again, the thought of kissing one of those monsters made him want to put his butterbeer down. The sweet taste had suddenly turned sour.

"When a dementor wants to destroy you utterly and completely, it will bear down upon the victim and…well…remove that person's soul."

"They can do that? They can kill someone like that? Is that what they want to do to Black?" The questions poured out of his mouth in quick succession as he contended with the awful image.

"It's much worse than killing. You can exist without your soul, as long as everything else is working. But you won't be alive any longer, not truly. Your sense of self, your memories…they'd be gone with no chance of recovery. What will remain is an empty shell, still existing but not able to contribute to anything in a meaningful manner. As for Black…" Lupin took a long swig from his bottle. "...the ministry has given the dementors permission to use it when they find him. Another reason for him to stay well clear, wouldn't you think?"

It was understandable that Harry couldn't sleep too well that night after that particular conversation. He couldn't erase the thought of what it must feel like to have your soul forcibly removed. He pictured Sirius Black's dreaded face and what it would look like in the process, and a shameful part of him wasn't upset at the prospect. But his light sleep meant that he was first to bolt upright when a large commotion could be heard as the darkness swamped around them. Almost immediately, the other boys in the dorm were waking up, pulling their curtains open, flashing their lit wands around to see what was going on. There wasn't anything in the room but noises could be heard. Downstairs, Harry knew it. He didn't even bother to put his slippers on as he raced from the door and down the stairs.

Some of the girls had already woken too, crowding along the staircase. Harry strained his neck to see what was happening. Students of all ages were appearing on the edge of the common room now that the noises had dissipated. Hermione appeared next to him, looking worriedly at Harry. Then someone at the front of the mass of students shouted clearly.

"I think he's hurt!"

Harry was filled with a sense of dread as he slowly realised who wasn't by his side. Hermione appeared to have the same thought and she was already shoving past the people in front of them, showing none of the politeness that usually dictated her personality. The common room was empty, barring a slumped figure on the armchair. His armchair. Matthew was clutching at his shoulder, wincing when he made contact. He saw them approach and grimaced painfully, though he did his best to smirk to alleviate the tension.

"I was having a late night," he explained through gritted teeth. "He took me by surprise." He sounded very disappointed about that, as if he expected better of himself. "I managed to get a good hex on him though, just as he was running away."

Hermione was hurriedly fussing over him, looking over his slight wound. Part of his cloak had been ripped over where a gash was forming. That left Harry to ask the obvious question. "What are you talking about? Who was here?"

"Sirius Black."