Harry Potter and the Mysterious Stubbardmans

The October day was cool and windy, the perfect weather for a magical therapy session. As he waited for Aristotle to finish up with his last class, Harry practiced the meditations that Aristotlehad prescribed. The open field, on the far side of the Quidditch pitch, created an illusion of isolation from the rest of the school. Harry continued to practice his breathing and positive visualization. He meditated on spells and charms, and worked on reconnection with his wand.

"Harry, sorry I'm so late," Aristotle excused himself. He was panting hard and clutching his side as though he had just finished running laps.

"That's okay, Aristotle. I was just doing some warm-ups while I was waiting."

"Good! I'm glad to hear it. How are things going?"

"Pretty well, actually. I've been able to get most spells and charms to work on the first try."

"What about your Patronus?"

"Well, still struggling with that one, sir."

"Okay, then let's begin working on conjuring your Patronus. From what you're telling me, I think you're ready," Aristotle assessed.

"Are you sure? I'd rather work on some curses, especially if someone is after me."

"Harry, who's the therapist here?" Aristotle said firmly.

"You are, sir," Harry replied, taken aback by Aristotle's question.

"Good. Now, stand here. Take out your wand, and concentrate on your Patronus. Recall what your Patronus looked like. Feel the energy that is within you. That is your shield."

Harry focused as hard as he could, but his efforts were in vain. No matter how much he concentrated, he could not envision the once welcomed stag that would leap from his wand and into the air, swirling around in a white cloud-like formation. He would point his wand up to the sky and yell out the incantation assertively, only to witness a pathetic little puff of alabaster.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry would cry out with all of his might, but still just a puff and nothing more.

Aristotle watched the fiasco. He flinched at every failed attempt, knowing that with each failure, Harry would prove himself that much more vulnerable to those who wanted to cause him harm. After awhile, all effort seemed futile. Aristotle could not bear to watch any longer.

"Okay, Harry. Let's take a break for a moment."

Harry walked over to the purple-robed trainer. His head was down as if he had succumbed to defeat. "I told you I was having trouble. Now, can we please just work on curses?" he whined.

"No, Harry. You have got to get your Patronus back! I could rehabilitate you to be able to use a plethora of curses, but the one spell that could knock out the worst of your enemies is your Patronus. It carries with it a magic that makes all other magic seem like mere Muggle phenomenons." Aristotle could tell by the look in his patient's be-spectacled eyes that he felt all was hopeless.

"You know sir, I want to get better. I really do, but we've been at this now for almost three months and all I've been able to accomplish are some third-year charms and spells. I haven't even come close to regaining all of my Defence Against the Dark Arts spells. If there are spies in Hogwarts now, what's to stop them from finding out my weaknesses and playing them to their advantage? What's to stop them from attacking me in my sleep, ambushing me on my way to class, or even coming here?"

Aristotle knew that Harry had a point. The rate at which Harry was making progress was far too slow to keep someone from mortally wounding him. They wouldn't need the Avada Kedavra curse to kill him. A simple hex would just as easily do the trick. The battle between Harry and Voldemort had taken quite a toll on Harry's magical abilities. When Harry's scar, that had held the last piece of Voldemort's soul, was hit by the killing curse, though Harry's soul was protected, the hit drained him of the additional power with which he was endowed. As much as it pained both Harry and Aristotle to admit it, it was that piece of Voldemort's soul was what had given Harry his extra edge.

"Harry, you can't give up. You're right, though. There's nothing to stop someone from hurting or even killing you, but with everything you have to live for, would you make it that easy for them? You know there's something in all of us, and I'm not just talking about those of us with magical powers. There's something in all of us - all humans, even Muggles that keeps us going. When we have people in our lives that love us or that we love, we are blessed with a vigorous will to live. Nothing, no evil witch or wizard or spy can stop us. You don't need magical abilities to have this will, Harry. All you need to know is that you love and are loved by many."

Harry looked away from Aristotle for a moment. He knew his trainer was right, but he was still doubtful that he had any future worth fighting for. I might as well resign myself to being nothing more than a Squib, he figured.

"Harry, remember what you have to do to conjure your Patronus. Think of the happiest memory you have. Think of the one memory that has given you the greatest joy, richest laughter, or even the calmest peace," Aristotle coached.

Harry closed his eyes. Many thoughts twirled and flipped in his memory. That Quidditch match against Slytherin, Mum and Dad holding me, ...Ginny...the first time I kissed her...our walk by the lake...the 'birthday' present she gave me...the one I gave her...the moment I realized that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her...the rest of my life...he stopped thinking.

"Okay, sir, I'm ready to try one more time."

"Good," Aristotle responded confidently. "Now, focus, Harry. Concentrate on that very happy moment."

Harry did as Aristotle instructed him to do. He firmly held up his wand and braced himself for the force of the spell. Then he spoke the incantation.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Immediately, a slight burst of light surged forth from Harry's wand. He was still trying to get accustomed to the tool's latest attributes since it had been repaired. The fact that this light and a stag, however small it was, shot out of it, certainly made his therapy session much more tolerable. The ghostly little stag teetered unsteadily from the wooden baton, but it didn't matter to either Aristotle or Harry. It was progress.

"Aristotle, look! I'm doing it! I'm doing it!" Harry cried out in joyous excitement.

"Yes, I see! Well done, Harry! Well done! Keep it going for as long as you can!" Aristotle shouted back with glee.

Eventually Harry's strength gave way; he began losing his concentration and the stag faded. Harry dropped his arms to his sides, still holding his wand firmly in his right hand. He looked over at Aristotle while trying to catch his breath.

"Very good, Harry. You've done well, today. Let's take a five minute break then we'll move onto some of those curses you've been so eager to work on, yes?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"No, thank you for being such a wonderful patient. Oh, and Harry, thank Ginny for me, too." Aristotle winked teasingly at Harry. Both he and Harry laughed.

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It was approaching the end of the day. Harry had been worn out by the therapy session Aristotle had put him through earlier. He wanted to take a walk by the lake with Ginny before retiring to bed. Not forgetting what he had promised Professor Candelier, Harry had made a conscious effort to abide by the school curfew. He had given Ginny a note, during dinnertime, with the details as to where and when they would meet for a romantic evening. Now, a few minutes after the set time, he still waited in the common room.

It had only been the first week of October and already the nights were growing chillier. Harry warmed himself by the fireplace as he continued to wait for Ginny to appear. Maybe she changed her mind? No. She would have told me. She wouldn't just leave me waiting here. A noise sounded near the stairs that led to the girls' dormitories.

"Ginny?" Harry quickly turned around with a smile ready on his face to greet her.

Much to his dismay, no one was there. Harry suddenly felt ill at ease. Someone was there, he ascertained. He sensed the presence of another being, but could not think of who it could be. Most of the other students were in the library, their dorms, or outside enjoying the crisp evening air. Harry was certain that no one else was in the common room with him. Even Ron and Hermione had made a date to spend the evening together.

"Is someone there?" Harry called over to the stairwell. "Ginny, are you up there?"

With that, he heard what sounded like footsteps scurrying off to a darker corridor. Now Harry's mind raced with terror. He thought of the worst. The spy. He...or she...thought they had their chance. He was no longer paying attention to the other stairway from which Ginny was now descending.

"Harry, sorry I'm late," Ginny sheepishly said, greeting Harry with a soft kiss on his cheek.

Harry smiled, relieved to see his beloved, auburn-haired girl. "Hey, are you ready? Will you be warm enough in that?" he asked, referring to the light cardigan Ginny was wearing.

"I'll be fine. Stop worrying."

"Is anyone else around upstairs?"

"Well, just a few. Almost everyone is out. It's Friday, you know. Why do you ask?"

"It's nothing. I just thought I heard someone in the corridor upstairs."

"I didn't see anyone. It was probably Edna Milford's cat. He's been snooping every inch of the place and getting into everything. He scared Professor McGonagall out of her skin just the other day." Ginny giggled.

"Oh, yeah. He's the black cat with white paws." Harry smiled as he offered his arm for Ginny to latch onto. His hands were in his pockets.

"We better hurry up. I want to go by the lake before the evening ends. I was looking forward to this all day," Ginny confessed.

Ginny wrapped both arms around Harry's left arm and cuddled up to him as they walked out of the Gryffindor common room. Harry decided to put the thought of a spy lurking around out of his mind. He'd waited all day to be with Ginny and, spy or no spy, nothing was going to ruin it.

Harry and Ginny casually strolled by the lake. Other students walked or jogged by as well. Some were romantically coupled up while others grouped together to enjoy the crisp, dry air and the barely lit sky, sprinkled with the hints of starlight that were commonly offered during dusk. As Harry and Ginny continued to walk near the sparkling, peaceful body of water, they realized that they were the only ones who had walked such a distance from the other students. They had come across a dimly lit area with a bench. It was perfect for two people in love.

"Here, let's sit down," Harry suggested.

Ginny took Harry up on his offer and sat on the bench, leaving room for him to join her. He put his arm around her and she did the same to him, cuddling him with her body and nuzzling her nose under his chin. She would periodically kiss him softly, inviting him to place his lips against hers. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her close to him. Ginny cupped her hand under Harry's jaw and guided him into a deeper, warmer kiss. It was firm, confident, and loving.

An unexpected, loud crackling of twigs startled the young couple. It appeared to be coming from a path that led to the Forbidden Forest. Both Harry and Ginny jumped. Instinctively they both reached for their wands.

"Harry, stay put," Ginny instructed, taking a protective stance.

"Oh, great. Now my girlfriend has to fight my battles for me."

Ginny was well aware that Harry was marked for assassination. Her greatest nightmare seemed to be coming close to being reality. Though she didn't mean to offend him, it was purely an involuntary response to defend the one she loved so dearly.

"Harry, stop it!" When will he learn that he and I are partners? When will he accept the fact that I'm just as capable as he is and that we're in this together? she wondered in frustration.

A bright flash of yellow light whizzed by Harry's ear. He quickly responded by raising his wand, looking further into the darkness of the path.

"Harry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but that was too close for comfort," he replied nervously. He called out into the darkness, "Who's out there? Show yourself!"

Another flash of light hurried in their direction. They both fell to the ground behind the bench to duck out of the way. Harry responded by lifting himself up on his knees and throwing a stunning curse. It was too weak to reach far enough into the pathway, however, and missed the attacker. Harry was able to get a look at the mysterious being, although it was hard to make out detailed features.

Their assailant was tall and slender with fluorescent, yellow-green eyes. Its pupils looked as though they were slanted like the eyes of a cat. Its face appeared to have multiple lumps and growths all over it. Harry could barely make note of anything more because the creature immediately ran back into the forest, escaping further recognition.

Before Ginny could throw a curse, another bright yellow light rushed over Harry's head from behind. Harry and Ginny turned to see who it was that helped them fight off the perpetrator. To Ginny's surprise, it was a sixth year that she had seen from time to time, while walking through the halls to get to her classes. The girl was wearing faded jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Grace?" Ginny called out with a surprised tone.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Are you two alright?" Grace inquired concernedly.

"Yeah, but that was a close call," Harry conceded, returning his wand to the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Grace, what are you doing out here all by yourself?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

"Oh...well...I was...just...taking a walk, before it got dark," Grace stuttered. Grace's skills as a fighter far surpassed her abilities to be a spy. It was not in her nature to be quick minded. Coming up with a reason for why she was out so late alone was not written in the script. Grace was not trained for spying. Unfortunately, watching Harry was a last ditch effort to keep an eye on whom so many others were after.

"But it is dark," Ginny emphasized. "You're not scared to be out here all by yourself?"

"No, not really," Grace answered nervously.

"Who or what was that?" Harry inquired.

"That was an Oncodite. You're lucky he didn't hit you with his curse," Grace informed.

"What is an Oncodite?" Harry continued his interrogation.

"They're queer creatures that Voldemort adopted. They're outcasts of the wizarding world. Voldemort took them under his wing, promising them food, shelter and a place where they would feel like they belonged in exchange for their loyalty to him. I guess they took him up on his offer. They're one of the two groups of the Verole, a group that branched off from the Death Eaters."

"So, why am I so lucky that its curse missed me...besides the obvious reasons," Harry asked.

"Because to get hit with one of their curses would cause horrible things to happen to you. You wouldn't die; you would just wish that you had. Their curses usually involve intense pain that can't be relieved. You'd have these disgusting welts, warts, and sores that never heal. They just ooze this stinky goop..."

"Okay, okay. I've heard enough," Harry interrupted. "How do you know so much about them?" his suspicions were growing.

Again, not in the script. Grace panicked. "My...Uncle Aristotle told me about them." Wow, good answer. I'm getting better at this, she thought.

"Oh," Harry replied, satisfied with Grace's answer. Then he looked around and got another bad feeling. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to still be standing here. Let's get back to the castle before we wind up with detention for being out past curfew."

Ginny gave Harry a puzzled look. "Since when did you ever care about a curfew?"

"Ginny, don't start. Come on. I don't want that thing coming back with friends."

"I'm with you on that," Grace agreed.

All three quickly jogged back to the castle.

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Later, that night, while everyone was asleep in the Hufflepuff dorm, Grace quietly snuck out of bed and opened her trunk. She gingerly lifted a box out of it, closed the trunk, and tiptoed over to a storage room off from the common room. Then she carefully placed the box on an old wooden desk, opened it up and carefully removed the item inside. It had a green cloth over it. She took the cloth and stuffed it back in the box. Remaining on the table was a small crystal ball.

"Mum? Mum?" she whispered to it. The shiny, glass globe began to cloud over with swirling mists of pink and yellow smoke. Seconds later, the mist cleared and there in the globe was an image of Dori Stubbardman's head, turning from side to side. It stopped when it caught sight of Grace.

"Grace, are you okay?"

"Yes, but I just wanted to tell you about what happened tonight, near the Forbidden Forest."

"Is it something to do with Harry?"

"Yes, but I took care of it," Grace answered proudly.

"Good girl. We wouldn't want anyone trying to steal our prize now, would we?" Dori teased.

"No, Mum."

"You just keep a careful watch on Potter, and more importantly, be careful yourself! Did he suspect anything about you?"

"No, not him that I could tell, but that Weasley girl did."

"Then you need to keep an eye on her, too. Remember. She's his girlfriend."

"Okay."

"You're doing so well for your first assignment. Just keep your eyes on the prize and everything will turn out fine. I promise."

"I will. Good night, Mum. Love you."

"Good night, dear. I love you, too."

The crystal ball clouded over again as the image of her mother's face faded to black. She placed the green cloth back on the globe, lifted it tenderly from the table, and placed it back in the box. As she stepped outside from the closet, Grace looked around the common room to see if anyone had possibly awakened and heard the conversation.

She made her way back to the dorm room, maneuvering around the others' beds until she reached her own. She placed the box back into her trunk then quietly crawled into bed, pulling the covers up over her head to shut out the cold chill of the night. She left only a small crack of space in her shroud to breathe. Her eyelids began to feel heavy, and eventually the secretive Hufflepuff fell into a deep sleep.

The following morning, Harry woke to Ron shaking him vigorously.

"Harry, quick! Wake up!"

"Huh?" Harry responded groggily.

"Harry, something terrible happened in the castle!" Ron explained.

Propping himself up in his bed, stretching and yawning, Harry began to become more alert. Ron's words were slowly registering.

"What terrible thing happened? Is Ginny okay?" He wiped the last of the sleep from his eyes and put on his glasses.

"Yeah, but someone from Ravenclaw isn't."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she's dead!"