As soon as the last drop of Intelligentia Concentrata touched the tip of her tongue, Hermoine Granger looked up with wide eyes.
"It's a ward. That's what we've been missing."
Luna was struck with sudden comprehension.
"Of course. A ward designed to dampen the influence of the dementors would weaken their field of emotional enchantment and strengthen the force of charms cast against them."
All that Harry had been reading, and everything they'd discussed, immediately fell into place. "That's what I was running toward in the alley. It didn't make sense to me. I can cast a Patronus — why would I run away from attacking dementors? I must have been running toward a ward."
He paused to retrieve Azkaban: A History from the dining room table, locating the relevant page and reading aloud.
"In the early fifteenth century, a delegate council of witches and wizards were sent as ambassadors of the Noble Houses, to meet with representatives of the Dementor race. They were tasked with negotiating a contract stipulating terms for the perpetual enlistment of guards over the Azkaban population. A weeklong summit at Stonehenge resulted in formal proximity boundaries around prisoners, and strict limits regarding the use of the Dementor's kiss."
"These contractual terms have been renewed every twenty years, a recurring negotiation commonly referred to as the Stonehenge Summit. In the late eighteenth century, management of the Azkaban guard population passed from the delegate council to the office of the Senior Undersecretary of the Minister of Magic, in cooperation with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
Harry closed the book, shifting his gaze to Hermione. "It makes sense. Negotiations like that couldn't unfold without some sort of dampening field."
Luna nodded, reflective. "We need to find that ward and cast it in the alleyway."
Hermione furrowed her brow in concentration. "There's a cloth-bound book on the far wall of your library, Harry, entitled Protective Enchantments of the Early Renaissance. If the final form of the ward was crystallized in the early fifteenth century, that'd be the best place to start."
She paused, her glance shifting from Luna to Harry pensively. "The ward, however, is merely one aspect of the solution."
At this, Luna spoke, melodically reflecting in a distant sort of way. "Indeed, we need a spell powerful enough to kill Dementors." She frowned. "Unfortunately, the Patronus Charm, even in its most tangible corporeal form, has never so much as injured a Dementor. Theoretical texts suggest an emotional dynamic at play, overwhelming the Dementor's thirst so forcefully that they must flee. Yet the Patronus was only ever intended to be a guardian. That's the sense of the Latin phrase. Expecto, meaning 'I await,' Patronum, meaning 'a Guardian.'"
Harry was deep in thought. After a moment, he lifted his face to Hermione. "When was the last wizarding conflict involving Dementors?"
She nodded, following his logic. "If I remember correctly, it was the twelfth century. The Byzantine War, wherein the Thracian Sorcerers established a loose alliance with the Dementor race and thereby won the Macedonian front in 1189."
Harry's eyes brightened. "Hang on!" He disappeared, and after a few moments returned with a book entitled, The Spellcraft of War: Medieval Martial Charms and their Uses. "Perhaps this might come in handy."
The potion had made the experience of thinking carefully absolutely exhilarating. Suddenly they each had access to the totality of their cognitive associations, distant memories, even relevant sensory experiences.
Harry could recall, in a moment, the location of every book he'd taken note of in his library, even some that he'd hardly glanced at. The sum of his past work in Charms, History of Magic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts came to the surface of his memory as soon as he needed them. He felt that, every moment before this one, he'd been laboring in a thick fog, blindly attempting to draw connections, to realize a synthesis of thought beyond his reach. That fog had cleared, and suddenly his logic was bulletproof, his connections seamless, his conclusions profound.
Hermione returned to the library to quickly retrieve Protective Enchantments of the Early Renaissance. Luna grabbed the copy of Potions for the Strengthenying & Protection of the Mynde they'd been using. Harry led them to the reading nook in his loft, settled on the far end of the mid-century leather sofa, and began flipping eagerly through The Spellcraft of War.
Within two hours, they had a plan.
Tutela Animae
Description: A useful ward originally crafted for the purpose of preserving the emotional and cognitive capacities of witches and wizards delegated to represent the Noble Houses at the Stonehenge Summits. This spell casts a protective field that dampens the efficacy of a Dementor's enchantment, which otherwise actively cripples human capacity and renders all but the most powerful wizards incapable of complex defensive spells.
Effect: When cast by a powerful wizard, the resulting field envelops an area with a radius as wide as fifty yards. Within this field, not only are humans insulated from the most crippling components of the Dementor's nefarious enchantments, but the Dementors themselves are rendered physically vulnerable. The field will remain without requiring maintenance for up to seven days.
Instructions: Wave wand arm in a circular pattern overhead, recalling a series of intense memories associated with profound joy, uninterrupted until ward is set. Whisper incantation repeatedly with eyes closed until a silver haze issues from the wand. Broaden circular wave until the wand arm is outstretched to full length. Finish cast with a clear, forceful articulation of incantation while the wand arm relaxes to point wand directly downward.
Fortitudo Inflexibilis
A pocioun to protecte the witche or wizarde fromne neferious inchantmentes relatyd to emotiouns.
Ingredients
4 Newtes Eyes, Dryed
2 Ashwynder Egges
1 Spanne Boomslang Skynne
3 Sprigges Dittanie
Bringe foure measures standarde pociouns base to softe boyle. Grynde dryed newtes eyes, recallyng bittere memories, tosse in cauldron whilste grindinge teeth. Wayte twelve mynutes, then Breake Ashwynder Egges directlie into cauldron whilste reflectinge on the death of a lovede one. Trimme Boomslang Skynne into sevenne strippes, depositinge each into the brewe, whilste reflectinge on an acte of intense sexual intimacie. Precysely one houre later, drope a sprigge of dittanie into the cauldron everie nyne mynutes, remembringe the affectione of deare friendes. Executed properlye, the pocioun should caste a softe purpelle glow, and smelle of honie.
Expecto Bellator
Far less common than its twin, "Expecto Patronum," and far more difficult to properly execute, this spell was crafted as a response to mercenary efforts on the Macedonian front of the Byzantine Conflict in 1189.
When properly cast, the spell produces a corporeal Patronus — a magical guardian capable of driving away Dementors and Lethifolds. Yet in this case the most powerful magicians are capable of producing a fully tangible Patronus, capable of rendering physical harm to Dementors. Indeed, it is the only known magic capable of destroying Dementors altogether, and was put to great use to regain the Macedonian front.
Execution: Maintain perfect focus on a memory of profound joy. Clearly, slowly, and forcefully articulate the first half of the incantation, "Expecto," while sweeping wand arm fluidly from center mass to left shoulder. Return wand arm to center mass, pointing wand directly at target. Shift focus to a memory of unadulterated love. Shout the remaining incantation, "Bellator!"
Effect: If perfectly cast, a fully tangible Patronus will emerge from wand, shining a bright white light on the surrounding area. Patronus will dart full speed to the nearest threat, affecting violent harm.
The trick of it was going to be the spells.
They'd need Sirius to agree to cast the ward, as exceptions to the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery didn't include the casting of protective wards on the off chance of a Dementor attack.
The variant Patronus, however, was clearly an advanced bit of magic, beyond Harry even after the tournament. He'd need a lot of practice to get it right. Hermione was absolutely thrilled to learn of the powerful wards protecting Luna's home, and thereby the opportunities to cast without consequence throughout the summer. But they all agreed that violating Sirius's wishes that Harry remain at home wasn't a great first step.
So they set to work on the Potion immediately.
After Luna brought the appropriate measure of potions base to a soft boil, Harry stepped in to prepare the Newt's Eyes. He reflected on memories of Malfoy throughout. He ground his teeth while adding the first ingredient, and stage one was complete. Twelve minutes later, tears welling in his eyes, Harry reflected on the meaningless death of Cedric Diggory as he cracked two Ashwinder eggs into the brew. The cauldron shifted to a sky blue haze.
They waited nearly an hour, hashing and rehashing the course of action upon which they'd decided at the dining room table, each enjoying a pint of Butterbeer that had magically appeared as soon as they settled.
As they returned to the potions table, Harry blushed a wild crimson while rereading aloud the next stage. Luna without a moment's hesitation volunteered, biting her lip and eyeing Harry meaningfully. A longing sigh escaped her lips as she trimmed the Boomslang Skin. Hermione turned away, fighting back an embarrassed giggle.
It was half past ten when Hermione completed the final stage of the potion, wearing a contented smile. A strong fragrance of honey emanated from the cauldron, which glowed a soft purple.
Immediately a narrow cabinet of carved woodwork emerged magically from the wall, shoulder height above the workstation. A copper plate on the upper right-hand corner shelf read Fortitudo Inflexibilis. They bottled a dozen small glass vials and sorted them accordingly.
They worked together to clean up the workstation and return ingredients to the meticulously sorted shelves to their left. After they'd finished, Harry suddenly realized it was late.
"Um… so guys, I've never really hosted before. I guess we can… um… maybe gather some blankets. I can take the sofa downstairs of course, and —"
He halted abruptly, because just then the distant sound of stone scraping against brick echoed from his loft upstairs, followed by two subdued clicks. They drew their wands, caution overtaking their features. Harry led them slowly toward the sound.
As he reached the top of the stairs, Harry immediately noticed that something had changed. After a quick glance around, he noticed two doors had appeared, against the near wall on either side of the staircase. Turning first to the left, Harry slowly pushed open a navy blue door, marked with a large brass letter H. Hermione, just behind him, was beaming.
"Absolutely incredible. It's a perfect duplicate of my bedroom."
She led them into the room, at the center of which was a large, white wooden bed frame, upon which sat a thick mattress covered with a navy blue, fluffy down blanket. A gold duvet was folded at the foot of the bed, and a navy accent pillow upon which was embroidered a gold letter H sat between the four, fluffy white pillows against the headboard.
Beside the bed sat a large chest of drawers. On the far side of the room, a large bookcase sat beside a writing desk.
After a moment's stunned reflection, Luna led them to the opposite door — a perfectly round, crimson red door with a copper knob at its center. Shoulder height above the knob was a golden rune. She traced the golden rune with her right index finger, then turned the copper knob.
Dominating the room was a large four-poster, neatly made with a bright white, overstuffed down blanket. At the head of the bed, at least twelve impossibly fluffy pillows of various sizes were neatly arranged.
The far wall of the room was curved, following the circumference of the Rook's external wall. Grafted into the very stone of the wall, like veins of ore, golden threads cast in the shape of the branches and leaves of a willow shifting in the wind gave the room a peaceful, flowing movement.
To the right of the four-poster, a large standing mirror stood beside a large wardrobe of palest birch. To the left of the four-poster sat a worn golden wingback, beside a small side table stacked with letters.
Luna smiled broadly, and after a long moment's reflection Harry could just hear her whisper, "Magical."