Chapter Text
Harry watched grimly as Minerva wrapped up the white powder and applied various safety charms.
"I'll keep this for now," she said. "Once I determine what it is, I will return it to you, if possible. Random items appearing in Hogwarts are rarely as innocuous as they seem, so thank you for telling me about this before something unfortunate happened."
Harry shuffled his feet, mumbled something and nodded.
"If you find any more suspicious items in the quests, please let me know," said Minerva.
"Umm…" said Harry. "Actually…" He rubbed the back of his head. "We've already, I mean, it was weeks ago…" He sighed. "Come this way."
Harry opened a door to a closet hidden in the wall, and Minerva stepped inside. Then, she stifled a scream.
"Harry! Where did you find all of this?"
"The Hogwarts quests." His gaze was resolute and pleading. "Listen, I can understand if you want to take these items for now, but I'd like to note that I'm showing you all of this willingly. Also, I worked really hard on building this collection, so please take that into consideration with your verdict."
Minerva knew by now not to expect normal news from Harry, but it was practically impossible for a student to stock a room with this many magical artefacts, not in the six months he'd had access to the quests. He should be allowed two or three quests a month, not per day. On top of that, several items in here would be horrendously lethal if handled incorrectly. And…Sweet Merlin…was that an entire wall of dark magical items she spied in the corner?
She turned back to glare at the boy who was staring hard at the floor, as if preparing to be chastised. Minerva sighed, her anger fading. In many ways, Harry wasn't a child anymore, but a young man trying to find his way in the world. If she scolded him for doing just that, he might never trust her again.
And she needed him to trust her. Due to several prophecies she'd heard and witnessed, Minerva had tried to keep Harry out of conflict as much as possible. She'd warded his parents' home, placed protection spells on him, and done most everything short of tracking him night and day. Since the Christmas incident, however, it was clear that the world might not be safe for anyone much longer. Maybe it was time to give him the tools to defend himself.
"Harry Potter," said Minerva. "How do you feel about showing this collection to Alastor Moody?"
"A Skull of Narzan," said Mad Eye, whistling. "How'd you get this one?"
"Beat a caterpillar at checkers," said Harry, arms folded as he hunkered against the doorway. Normally, he might obfuscate a bit more, but he was hoping honesty would win him points. "What does it do?"
"It's for fighting goblins," said Mad Eye. "Invented during the war. Drives them crazy and makes them want to bash their brains in with sticks."
"So…uh…" said Harry, his eyes darting away from it. "I guess I won't be allowed to keep that one?"
Mad Eye chuckled. "Son, if the goblins found out that you had one of these, they'd get you thrown into Azkaban. There's about fifteen laws stating that I have to send this back to the Department of Mysteries for destruction."
Harry watched with trepidation as Mad Eye scanned the closet. The rational part of his brain realized that he was quite fortunate Mad Eye was explaining what each item did before he killed himself-like those physicists who monkeyed around with the radioactive Demon Core-and that he was even more fortunate Mad Eye wasn't confiscating everything outright. The irrational part of him was glowering in its corner, sulking over each item lost. He'd made a worm hole from a bookends spell, so who knew what he could do with a murder skull?
And a third, introspective part of himself was wondering how many friendship points he was earning right now with Hermione, while a fourth was reminding him to stop thinking so much and focus on what Mad Eye was saying.
"I'm curious about how you got your hands on a Death Fruit," said Mad Eye. "Those are extremely rare."
"I used psychic trickery on a troll giant hybrid," said Harry. "And I suppose you'll be taking that one too, since it causes instant death?"
Mad Eye picked up the fruit, weighing it in his hands. "It's not deadly unless you eat the whole fruit, otherwise the petrification effect isn't permanent. It could last anywhere from hours to months at a time."
"Really?" said Harry. "Huh, interesting. What do wizards typically use it for?"
"In the old days, it was used on prisoners and psychiatric patients. Now, it's so rare that it's not used anymore."
Mad Eye put the fruit back on the shelf, crossing to the other side of the room. The acid spill from months ago was gone now, but there was still a dark stain in the stone floor. Mad Eye stepped on the spot to examine another object.
Harry was thinking that if the petrification stopped aging, then it could work as a form of cryostasis. It could solve the boredom problem that accompanied space travel, and halt someone's death in an emergency. The ratio of fruit to amount of time petrified would be something he could test experimentally, but it would be a lot easier to ask someone who knew already. Harry was just about to do that when Mad Eye started talking.
"Boy, I gotta ask. You didn't rig up a time turner to get all these items, did you?"
"No," said Harry.
"Didn't steal them?"
"No." Harry was suspicious. "Why are you asking?"
"I never played those Hogwarts Quests, but your Headmistress mentioned how they work. You shouldn't have been able to get this many items in six months, even with a partner."
"It was more like…a year and six months." Mad Eye folded his arms with an inquiring look, and Harry went on. "Okay, so remember how last year at Hogwarts, this place became literalinsanity with walls? Well, I took advantage of the situation and did as many quests as humanly possible, even though I shouldn't have had access, strictly speaking."
"So, you gamed the system?" said Mad Eye with a grin. "Wouldn't expect any less of you. Still, it looks like 3 years worth, and then some. If I didn't know better, I'd say you doubled back and did each quest twice."
"I don't have a time turner," said Harry. Though if he did, Harry would most certainly have used it to mine quest items out of the castle.
"I know that," said Mad Eye, opening his flask and taking a sip. "But that's hardly the only way to mess with time."
Harry was silent for a moment. His mind was full of questions, but he knew he needed to be cautious about how he asked them.
When Mad Eye finished drinking, he said, "You'd be a fool to do it, though. Once you break the 6 hour rule, all sanity goes completely out the window. Once you start bartering with time, trying to get more, or change something past…" Mad Eye was silent a moment, then grunted. "Well, there's a reason most people who try wind up dead or worse."
"What's worse than being dead?" asked Harry. "Unless you're talking about a vegetative state, or some form of zombification, though I assume magic will one day find a way to reverse most of those. In which case, any form of being not dead is still better."
Mad Eye gave him a long, calculating look. "Kid, if you can't answer that question, then you're not ready to know."
Harry wanted to kick himself. Of course, he'd probably meant philosophically worse scenarios, like becoming a Dark Lord and hurting lots of people. If Harry would have just thought a little faster, he would have known to keep his mouth shut and let Mad Eye keep talking.
Fortunately, Mad Eye didn't need much prodding to continue. He took another swig from his flask, wiped his mouth. "There's only one person who was supposedly able to change the past. Really change it. Merlin gave up his life to save the people, as the story goes. If he hadn't, we'd all be floating around on a coffin planet." He coughed. "Course, time doesn't like being messed with, which is why magic is still dying."
Harry blinked. "What do you mean, exactly?" He thought through his next words carefully. "Is this a story you heard, or did you find it from a primary source?"
"Well, I…" Mad Eye stopped, looked at his drink, frowning. Then, he glanced at the shelf again and spat out, "Oh, bloody hell!"
He grabbed something off it, cast an enchantment, and then whirled on Harry, wand drawn.
Harry's hands were in the air. "I promise not to say anything. If necessary, I'll even take an unbreakable vow to-"
"No, you won't," growled Mad Eye. "Obliviate!"
Tuesday, January 9th
"I would like to remind you that you are all very brave," said Dean Thomas, standing in front of the classroom. "It takes a lot of courage to keep practicing a difficult spell, after failing the test in front of your peers. We will continue this training course for the next couple of weeks. So if you can't cast the Patronus today, don't lose heart. To me, you're all already winners."
Dean saw a few of his classmates smile, and that animated him, "As you know, casting the Patronus charm has less to do with skill, and more to do with a firm conviction. You need a feeling that's warm and means something to you. It may change with time, and that's okay too. That being said, I'll make sure to check your wand work first to make sure that's not a problem. Harry will be my assistant today, so please listen carefully if he gives you any advice. Now, let's begin."
Dean gave the instruction for the Patronus charm, and then watched as everyone practiced. He tilted one person's arm, another he corrected their stance. Most of his students were Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, but a few Hufflepuffs had joined, Neville being one of them. The only Slytherin was Blaise, but Dean was hoping he'd spread the word around his house.
There were a few Beauxbatons students as well, though none that he knew well. Except, of course, Hermione Granger.
Harry moved among the students, watching their wand work and questioning them about what they used for their happy thought. He was the one who'd come up with the idea to hold this session, after the Defence class practice had gone terribly, resulting in a pitiful lack of corporeal Patronuses.
When Harry asked Dean to lead the remediation group, he'd been confused, wondering why Harry didn't want to lead it himself. But then Harry explained why. They both had an important role to play if they wanted to make this work.
In the centre of the room sat a trunk. Dean walked over to it, murmuring a spell to unlatch the first of several locks. The trunk rattled enough to shake the floor, drawing all the attention his way. "Don't be alarmed," he said. "We will protect you if you need it. But you must also learn to protect yourself."
The whispering began as Dean unlatched the last of the locks, the room seeming to grow darker with each release. Harry took a place at his side, wand raised and bracing himself. Then Dean unlatched the last of the locks, threw open the trunk.
The room grew cold and dark as a dementor surged from within.
The students were screaming, and someone cried out, "It's not real! It can't be!"
"The darkness is real," said Dean, having a hard time facing the dementor himself. "Death is real, so we must be prepared to face it. Remember your happy thought!" Dean raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
Dean's Patronus came roaring to life, swatting its massive bear paw at the dementor. Harry stood there, wand raised, casting no Patronus, mumbling softly under his breath.
If it hadn't been Harry Potter standing up there, Dean thought, the students would never have believed it was real. You didn't just happen across a dementor in the wild. They came from Azkaban, a highly restricted government facility guarded by battle hardened Aurors. None of them was loaning a student a soul-sucking dementor, no matter how nicely they asked.
In fact, Harry had petitioned the Ministry for the use of an actual dementor to test with, claiming there would be a much higher success rate, and they'd sent back a firm and resounding no.
So Harry and Dean made do with the next best thing: a magically induced mirage, the incantation provided by Harry. After seeing the spell book it came from, Dean almost backed out of the plan, even as Harry rushed to assure him it only looked dark to convince people the spells were dangerous. Real dark grimoires, he said, looked completely ordinary.
The dementor loomed near the cluster of students, sucking in a rattling breath as if tasting their fear. Dean's Patronus remained strong, but he let it dim, stumbling back as if his strength might fail. Several third and fourth years rushed forwards, casting a successful Patronus to support him, followed by a couple second and first years.
At some point, the students realized it was an illusion. For one thing, many of the older students had seen a dementor before, and knew it to be quite a lot more soul suckingly terrifying than this one. Still, even if they knew the truth, it seemed to help them to see the illusion in the room.
"Think of the darkness you have to face," said Dean. "Remember what's important to protect!"
Eventually there were enough Patronuses that Dean dispelled his, and Harry no longer watched the dementor, instead surveying the room.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Dean Thomas saw a flash of light, and Neville had a shocked look on his face as a red panda sprung from his wand, bounding forwards. Someone clapped him on the back, and Neville smiled in amazement, his voice thick as he said, "I thought of my gram on her birthday."
Harry didn't say anything, but Dean saw disappointment flicker across his face before he smiled.
By the end of the hour, about ten students had cast a successful Patronus. Even Blaise succeeded in casting one, his Patronus a completely ordinary Siamese cat.
"Alright, everyone, let's wrap this up for today. Everyone who didn't cast Patronus, don't give up! Your homework is to think of a meaningful thought that inspires you. Good luck!"
His classmates cleared the room, and it was now mostly the Bayesian Conspiracy left to clean up. Blaise stood in a corner and flicked his wand dramatically, demonstrating to Padma how he cast the spell. Dean approached Harry, who was helping move chairs back into place with Neville and Hermione.
"You did great, Neville," Harry was saying. "I was just sort of surprised, that's all."
"Well," said Neville, shrugging. "As long as I can cast any sort of Patronus, I'm happy. Even if it's not the upgraded one."
Using his wand, Dean lifted a chair and moved it to the back of the room. It took a few tries before the spell caught. "Harry," Dean said, "How are we planning to teach the next session? I don't think the dementor trick will work again."
"No, but I've got a different strategy in mind," said Harry, lifting a chair. "I'll be looking for people who need more than a happy thought to cast a Patronus."
Padma approached them, Blaise following a few steps behind. "Alright, what's this I hear about you having a weird Patronus, Harry Potter?"
Harry almost dropped the chair he was levitating. Then, he blinked, straightened up. "I can neither confirm nor deny-"
"So it is true. Well, let's hear it."
When Harry didn't respond right away, Dean offered an explanation, "It's not weird, it's just different. He says some people who can't cast the usual Patronus might be able to cast his.
"Different?" asked Padma, frowning. "How?"
"Well…" Dean had actually never seen the Patronus, so he couldn't really say. "He's a bit private about it."
Hermione finished stacking some chairs and joined them. Before she'd even said anything, Padma asked, "You've seen his Patronus, right? What's it look like?"
Hermione frowned and glanced at Harry, who was just finishing stacking the last chair. Sighing heavily, he wiped his forehead with his sleeve, then turned on his heel to face them.
"Okay, listen, you're all trusted members of the Bayesian Conspiracy, as well as my friends," he said. "But I'm really sorry, I can't show you my Patronus or describe it in detail. If I give you too much information, you might not be able to cast any Patronus, and it's not worth it to take that risk."
"How'd you learn this special Patronus?" asked Padma, frowning. "Like is your special thought just…extra happy or something?"
"Not extra happy, no. I had to develop a specific thought, which comes along with the right state of mind."
"Well, well," drawled Blaise. "How convenient. Harry Potter, the only wizard whose brain is large enough to think his way into getting a special Patronus."
"He's not lying!" said Neville. "I've seen it before, loads of times."
"Wait. Loads of times?" said Dean, taken aback.
Padma frowned. "Harry, didn't you say before that all hypotheses need to be tested experimentally? Your assumption is that showing us the Patronus, and telling us how you cast it, will make it impossible to cast a Patronus. Most of us have already learned to cast a Patronus, so if we all see your Patronus and none of us have any difficulties, it will prove your hypothesis incorrect. Won't it?"
Harry's eyes flicked back and forth between them. "That's a huge gamble."
"Not really," said Blaise. "Seems worth it to learn an upgrade."
"I agree," said Dean. "You can trust us, Harry."
Harry sighed, then slowly raised his wand.
"Very well. I'll show all of you under three conditions. One, you understand that you may not ever be able to cast a normal Patronus again. Two, you promise never to speak to anyone of what I'm about to show you. Three, I reserve the right to Obliviate you at any point in the future if I deem it necessary to protect the information from spreading."
Everyone promised, but Dean knew that if Harry really wanted it kept secret, he would have taken a lot more precautions. Dean could remember back to when Harry wouldn't even talk about the Patronus with other students, much less show them a full demonstration. (Except Neville and Hermione, not that Dean was bitter or anything.)
Harry did the wand motions, which looked exactly the same as the ones for a regular Patronus, and cried out, "Expecto Patronum!"
The light flashed from his wand and took a solid form, and Dean shielded his eyes from the burst of energy. When he blinked away the spots, Dean noticed the giant man was taller than your average human, over 7 feet. It was almost too bright to look at, but slowly faded to a pale glow.
And that's when Dean Thomas noticed something strange. And after he noticed it, he couldn't stop seeing it. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but…
That's when Blaise started snickering, and even Padma was grinning.
"Harry," said Padma. "Is your Patronus modelled after…umm…anything in particular?"
"It's a man," said Harry, pride in his voice. "It's the true form of the Patronus, which can face Death without fear."
"Well, no, what I mean is," said Padma. "Umm…"
Now Hermione was blushing, and Neville was pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What she's trying to ask," said Blaise, smirking. "Is why is your Patronus naked?"
Harry's jaw dropped. "He's…he's not!"
"Well, I don't see a clothing line," said Blaise. "I mean, unless your Patronus is wearing Spandex or a wet suit, I don't know why I can't see pants or a robe of some kind."
"Well, just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there!" declared Harry. "Besides, why would clothing even matter? It's not like regular Patronus wear them. And anyway, haven't any of you ever heard of the Vitruvian Man, or basically any ancient religious painting?"
Blaise was just getting warmed up. "Alright, but listen, aren't the Patronus based on our personalities? So, does that mean you want to be naked? Not that I can blame you, really."
"Neville," said Harry, whirling on him. "You don't think that he's naked, do you?"
"Uhh…" Neville rubbed the back of his neck. "It did cross my mind, actually. But I don't think it's anything to worry about, like you said, the Patronus don't need clothing."
"Hang on," said Blaise. "Does that mean Padma's Patronus could end up being a naked woman? Or for that matter, could I have had a naked woman as my Patronus? Man, I'm starting to regret that missed opportunity."
Harry made a strangled noise in his throat, and his Patronus dimmed and almost disappeared. "Hang on," said Padma, stepping closer.
"What?" said Harry.
"I think your Patronus just winked at me," she said, peering closely with a grin. "Yes, I think he did."
"Wow," Blaise chuckled. "You really are a Casanova, Harry."
The Patronus vanished in that instant. If looks could kill, then there would have been a Blaise-shaped pile of ash on the floor. Deliberately, Harry closed his eyes and took in a breath, and everyone got very quiet. The tension in the room was palpable, almost like a dark spell in itself.
"I suppose," said Harry softly. "If all of you noticed this, then the other students will as well?" After a long, tense moment, he sighed, his tone grave. "Very well then. So be it."
Harry turned and walked out of the room.
Later that day, as evening fell, Hermione went to see Harry in his lab.
"So," he said bitterly, as she approached. "Which is it? Are you interested in getting a naked man as your Patronus, or a naked woman?"
She smiled softly. "Oh Harry, don't let them get to you. You know Blaise has made it his life's mission to be obnoxious, and he dragged everyone else into it."
Harry shook his head solemnly. "No, it's my fault. Why, I can't believe I didn't see this coming. Humans see a giant humanoid superpower, and instead of asking the important questions, like how it was constructed or what powers it contains, the first thing they check is the nuts and berries."
She stifled a giggle, and Harry glared at her.
"Come on now," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You promised you'd show me the True Patronus, and I've been waiting since before Christmas. Since longer than that even. So, please. Teach me."
After a few more seconds of sulking, Harry closed his book and stood from his desk.
"Alright," he said. "But I'll only show you if you promise no laughing."
"I won't laugh," she said, keeping her voice serious. It was very, very hard not to smile.
"Right," he said, then drew his wand. He walked to the middle of the room, motioning her to join him.
She did the motions for the Patronus charm once or twice. "Your wand work is perfect," he said. "As usual. Now, close your eyes."
Hermione frowned, but did as he asked.
"Now, I'm going to explain the thought I used to find the true Patronus. If I tell you this information, then the normal Patronus may be impossible for you. So, I need to know you're willing to give that up."
Hermione nodded. She'd been prepared for that for years now. During the summer of their first year, they had discussed using the Patronus to take down Azkaban. Harry, bursting with ambition, reasoned that they could destroy all the dementors within 2 months. When Hermione failed to learn the True Patronus right away, they'd been forced to revise their time frame. Hermione felt a crushing sense of disappointment, as if she'd failed her best friend as well as herself. That is, until she noticed something important.
The problem of Azkaban was deeply political-there was a reason the British people supported the institution. Britain had been embroiled in not one, but two long wars, and the majority of those in Azkaban were war criminals. Magical Britain accepted the dementors not only because they were afraid of what would happen if the criminals escaped, but because they wanted revenge for what the criminals had done. As long as that sentiment prevailed, destroying all the dementors would be reckless, and pointless if the people in power would ultimately supplant one evil punishment for another.
It had taken a long time for the world to see the dementors were doing more harm than good, but that was changing slowly. A few people in government had expressed their interest in the decommissioning of Azkaban. Once they had enough political support, Hermione needed to be ready to finally begin their plan.
Hermione's eyes remained closed as Harry continued speaking. "Think of what's important to you, of all the wonderful things that make life worth living. Now, imagine that thing being attacked by dementors. Think of protecting them from death, defying its power over them. Use that thought to reject death as the natural order."
Hermione raised her wand. She thought of her mother and father, and of Tonks and Harry, her friends from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. She thought of her bright, shining Patronus protecting them from suffering, from the pain of death. Then, she flicked her wand once, twice, and cried, "Expecto Patronum!"
She opened her eyes, and wasn't surprised to see Harry standing alone. She'd known, somehow, that the spell would fail.
"Try again," said Harry. "Remember that the thought doesn't have to be happy, or even to be about a particular person. It just needs to be something that you want to protect."
Hermione tried again, focusing this time on the beauty of a winter night. She saw the Hogwarts students laughing in the snow, and she saw McGonagall and the other professors smiling at them. Madam Bones nodded at her, and said, "Well done, Hermione. I'm proud of you."
Her heart raced, her eyes stinging with tears. She didn't know if this was the right thought, but she tried anyway. "Expecto Patronum!"
Again, the spell failed. She tried a few more times, a few different thoughts, and somehow kept coming back to Madam Bones. But that thought wasn't happy.
Harry was frowning, and trying to hide it under a neutral expression. "Here," he said. "Let me, uhh…try this." He paused, hands mid-reach. "My plan requires touching you for a moment. Is that alright?"
She nodded, and he stood behind her. He gently held her wand arm, his chest pressed slightly against her back. "Imagine we're doing it together, and I'm helping you."
"Okay?" she said, her heart beating even faster now. She'd never even thought to try it this way before.
He spoke close to her ear. "We're facing down the dementors together. We're rejecting them, their right to exist. We're protecting each other."
She nodded, trying to relax but finding that very hard to do. He pressed himself just a little closer, getting a firmer grip on her arm, the other against her waist. She thought of fighting alongside him, battling the darkness together, which was thrilling in a way she'd never imagined before. There was no reason they had to stop being close when the battle was over…
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Ahh…umm…" She tried to think of something else, but the thoughts of him remained. There was something she really liked about his voice. It was deep, warm and strong—with a quiet confidence and bitter sweetness that reminded her of caramel coffee. It was impossible to ignore how it made her feel when he was so close.
"Let's try it," he said, and he raised their arms slowly. "I'll say it with you."
He had to feel that she was trembling. She flicked her hand once, twice, took in a shaky breath. Their voices rang out. "Expecto Patronum!"
When nothing happened, he let out a sigh and stepped back. "Well, it was worth a shot."
She stood there, frozen in place and trying to stop freaking out.
"Yeah, uhh…right."
Get-it-together-Hermione before something awkward happens and then we're gonna have some explaining to do.
"I've got one more idea. We could—"
"My cat!" burst Hermione. "I need to go feed her. I don't want her to die or be like really sad."
"Oh, right," said Harry, nodding. "You should do that and come back."
"But, then after I have homework." Her brain was spinning excuses. "And I've got tutoring in the morning for OWLS, so I should do a little prep work."
Harry looked at her, a frown forming. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No, I'm fine. I've got it. Well, goodnight-"
"What I mean is," said Harry, his serious tone halting her. "If you do need help, with anything at all, then I hope you'll come to me. I can do more than just give you cookies."
She stared at him, but he looked so upset that she didn't say anything.
"And I mean, we might not have unlocked your Patronus this time, but we shouldn't give up. I don't want you to assume these sessions are pointless just because our first attempt was unsuccessful. I've got a couple dozen ideas left to try before we start considering other options. Also, if it was the fact that I…was touching you that made you uncomfortable, I'm really sorry, I won't do it again."
Harry fidgeted, hunkering behind the table between them. It was as if he wanted to get closer, but was terrified to. That's when it hit her: he was still blaming himself for losing his temper with her. This whole thing was, at least in part, an attempt to make up for it.
"We will try again," she said. "Later."
"Okay," he said, letting out a breath. "Tomorrow?"
She nodded.
He grabbed his things, shoved them into his pouch. "I'll go with you to your dorm. I might as well learn how to get in, in case I ever have to feed your cat."
Would you like to carry my books for me too? she thought, with a heavy sigh. This boy, seriously…this was why she got so confused around him.
She let him come with her anyway. It would be okay to indulge him, just this once. And it wasn't because she liked being near him or that he made her heart beat fast or anything. Nope, not at all.
You're a mess, she thought. A complete mess, Hermione.