Expecto…

Authors note: The Harry/Remus section combines cannon from the books and films. I decided the film location of Remus' office better suited their work. Large section of bold italic (JKR's writing) in the middle is skipable, but there if you need reminding of Harry's timeline.

Remus Lupin surveyed Harry over his desk.

"So," he said, "you are now the second student who has asked for assistance in fighting dementors this year."

"Really?" asked Harry, "who was the other?"

"Why, your sister." Lupin stood and walked around his desk. "But we will be trying a different approach. I have secured a boggart, after searching the castle. I found it in Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get safely to a real Dementor. The boggart, of course, will transform when he sees you…" Lupin trailed off, searching the papers on his desk for a letter from Severus. Finding it, he scrolled down to check when he would have to take the potion next.

"Victoria? Really?"

Remus looked up and smiled. "Yes. She, rather like yourself, has been surrounded by conflict and hardship for most of her life. It makes both of you susceptible to the effects of the dementors."

Harry glanced at the brown trunk in the middle of the room. "Is that where it is?"

"The boggart? Yes."

Remus leaned back against his desk. "I will give you the same warning I gave Victoria. Patronus charms are a very complex branch of defensive magic – very advanced magic. They are beyond OWL level, at best, and not all people are able to perform them. What matters, you see, is the ability to feel and express your joy in a single thought, and sustain it. It took Victoria three and a half months, but the other day she told me that she was finally able to procure a full bodied patronus."

"Three and a half months!" Harry exclaimed, "but sir, Quiddich!"

"I do not expect that you will be able to, at first, produce a full bodied patronus. By the next Quiddich match you may, however, be able to produce a shield, a sort of gaurdian, which should give enough time for to fly to lower ground, or to catch the snitch, or for some other action to take place. I believe Dumbledore will be attending the next match again, just in case."

"Oh, that's good," Harry said, clearly relieved.

"Before we begin, I want you to think of a happy memory. The strongest you can think of."

Harry closed his eyes, and Lupin glanced at the trunk.

Remus pulled his wand out of his pocket and ran his finger down the pattern of its wood. If this doesn't work, Remus thought, what will protect him.

"Okay," Harry said.

"The incantation is this —" Lupin cleared his throat. "Expecto patronum!"

"Expecto patronum," Harry repeated under his breath, "expecto patronum."

"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?"

"Oh — yeah —" said Harry. "Expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum"

Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of Harry's wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.

"Did you see that?" said Harry excitedly. "Something happened!"

"Very good," said Lupin, smiling. "Right, then — ready to try it on a Dementor?"Remus tried to withhold the relief from his face. If Harry was producing the faint smoky wisps this quickly, he had the same aptitude as his sister.

"Yes," Harry said, gripping his wand very tightly.

Remus pointed his wand at the trunk, and twisted it.

A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over the room —

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto —"

Remus rushed forward as Harry fell backwards, catching him as the boggart changed form, into a full moon. Setting Harry down, Remus raised his wand. "Riddiculus."

Once the boggart was banished back into the trunk, Remus shook Harry. "Harry," he said, "Harry!"

Harry opened his eyes, moving his arms to push himself up.

Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out a Chocolate Frog.

"Here —" Lupin handed him a Chocolate Frog. "Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it your first time; in fact, I would have been astounded if you had."

"It's getting worse," Harry muttered, biting off the Frog's head. "I could hear her louder that time — and him — Voldemort —"

Remus paled.

"Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand —"

"I do!" said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. "I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!"

"All right then…" said Lupin. "You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on… That one doesn't seem to have been strong enough…"

Harry thought hard and decided his feelings when Gryffindor had won the House Championship last year had definitely qualified as very happy.

"Ready?" said Lupin.

"Ready," said Harry; trying hard to fill his head with happy thoughts about Gryffindor winning, and not dark thoughts about what was going to happen when the box opened.

"Go!" said Lupin, pulling off the lid. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Dementor glided forward, drawing its breath; one rotting hand was extending toward Harry —

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto Pat —"

White fog obscured his senses… big, blurred shapes were moving around him… then came a new voice, a man's voice, shouting, panicking —

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off —"

The sounds of someone stumbling from a room — a door bursting open — a cackle of high- pitched laughter —

"Harry! Harry… wake up…"

Lupin was tapping Harry hard on the face. This time it was a minute before Harry understood why he was lying on a dusty classroom floor.

"I heard my dad," Harry mumbled. "That's the first time I've ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it…"

Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn't see.

"You heard James?" said Lupin in a strange voice.

"Yeah…" Face dry, Harry looked up. "Why — you didn't know my dad, did you?"

"I — I did, as a matter of fact," said Lupin. "We were friends at Hogwarts.

Listen, Harry — perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced… I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this…"

"No!" said Harry. He got up again. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is… hang on…"

He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory… one that he could turn into a good, strong Patronus…

The moment when he'd first found out he was a wizard, and would be leaving the Dursleys for Hogwarts! If that wasn't a happy memory, he didn't know what was…

Concentrating very hard on how he had felt when he'd realized he'd be leaving Privet Drive, Harry got to his feet and faced the packing case once more.

"Ready?" said Lupin, who looked as though he were doing this against his better judgment.

"Concentrating hard? All right — go!"

He pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the Dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark —

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The screaming inside Harry's head had started again — except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio — softer and louder and softer again… and he could still see the Dementor… it had halted… and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry's wand, to hover between him and the Dementor, and though Harry's legs felt like water, he was still on his feet — though for how much longer, he wasn't sure…

"Riddikulus!" roared Lupin, springing forward.

There was a loud crack, and Harry's cloudy Patronus vanished along with the Dementor; he sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if he'd just run a mile, and felt his legs shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor Lupin forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb again.

"Excellent!" Lupin said, striding over to where Harry sat. "Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!"

"Can we have another go? Just one more go?"

"Not now," said Lupin firmly. "You've had enough for one night. Here —"

He handed Harry a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate.

"Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood.

"Oh."

Same time next week?"

"Okay," said Harry. He took a bite of the chocolate and watched Lupin extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Dementor. A thought had just occurred to him.

"Professor Lupin?" he said. "If you knew my dad, you must've known Sirius Black as well."

Remus placed his head in his hands at the mention of Black. He didn't know what to think anymore. For seven long years he had believed that Black was the traitor, but some of the whispered comments the time travelers had said confused him. And James' middle name, why was he named after Black? And all of the mentions of Scabbers and Crookshanks confused him even more. He hoped that everything would be explained at some point during the books. It almost seemed as if Black wasn't the traitor, but who in the world could it have been otherwise?

Lupin turned very quickly.

"What gives you that idea?" he said sharply.

"Nothing — I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too…"

Lupin's face relaxed.

"Yes, I knew him," he said shortly. "Or I thought I did. You'd better be off, Harry, it's getting late."

Harry left the classroom, walking along the corridor and around a corner, then took a detour behind a suit of armor and sank down on its plinth to finish his chocolate, wishing he hadn't mentioned Black, as Lupin was obviously not keen on the subject. Then Harry's thoughts wandered back to his mother and father…

He felt drained and strangely empty, even though he was so full of chocolate. Terrible though it was to hear his parents' last moments replayed inside his head, these were the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he'd never be able to produce a proper Patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again…

"They're dead," he told himself sternly. "They're dead and listening to echoes of them won't bring them back. You'd better get a grip on yourself if you want that Quidditch Cup."

He stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into his mouth, and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

Victoria stared up at the ceiling, laying comfortably on a couch in the ROR with her head on Kylen's lap.

"Show it to me again," Kylen said.

"Again? Alright," said Victoria, pulling out her wand and raising a joyful memory to her mind, as well as letting in resonate within her heart. "Expecto-Patronum."

White mist spouted from the tip of her wand, swirling for a couple seconds before forming a mole.

"I've never heard of that before," Kylen said, "it's like it's hesitating in how to form."

"Or what to form," added Victoria. "It never did that the first time."

"Have you asked Lupin about it?"

"No. And it only does that sometimes too. It's never done that when I'm with―"

"Your father?" Kylen asked.

"Yeah," Victoria said, twisting her head to look at him. "How'd you guess?"

"Well, I looked into the symbology of animagi for transfiguration. And since one's animagi is a reflection of themself, which usually matches ones patronus. In all my readings, the description which made me think of you was that of the bear, and the butterfly."

"Butterfly!" Victoria said, aghast.

Kylen gave her a look, before continuing. "The mole is the personality of a spy, of one who has dabbled in both the light and dark. Mole's gifts are in knowledge of the herbs and crystals of the earth, and are known to be guardians. They are also known to be sensitive to touch. I'm not certain of all of it, but I'm sure it fits your father perfectly."

Victoria paused, gazing off into space. She pictured her father, and thought of each description Kylen had given in turn. "Yeah," she said, "it does."