The Dementors' Kiss

Defence Against the Dark Arts seemed to have been moved forward. At least, Harry thought, that would explain why everyone had arrived at least ten minutes early. The Gryffindor students stood impatiently outside the classroom, discussing what techniques they might be practising over the next two hours.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore strode around the corner, and Harry felt sure he saw a gratified look flash across his face as he looked at the assembled students.

"Punctuality is a wonderful thing," he said, as he unlocked the door. "I do hope you all had filling breakfasts, however. I'm afraid I tend to forget about such things as mid-lesson breaks, and that sort of thing."

The students filed into the class, and took their seats. "I'm sure many of you will have noticed that there is no set text for this class. That is because I believe in a purely practical class. In fact, I thought we'd practise straight away. Now, as I believe some of you know, I was once the Transfiguration teacher here. I believe I remember one or two of the spells..."

He walked to the back of the class, and stood next to a large wardrobe.

"Now, the spell you need is called 'Expecto Patronum'," this was greeted with an excited buzz. "Ah, I see you're familiar with the spell. Now, for bonus points, can anyone tell me what the special feature of this spell is? What must you be doing when you cast it?"

Hermione's hand shot up, but Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Miss Granger. Someone else? Mr Longbottom? Miss Patil? Ah, Miss Brown..."

Lavender rarely answered questions in any class other than Divination, but she said, "You must concentrate on a happy memory or thought."

"Very good, Miss Brown. You overheard Professor McGonagall and myself discussing it this morning, I believe? Well, excellent. One should never miss out on the chance to gain an advantage at such a time. We have rules, and we do not break them. However, as Miss Brown has shown, it is possible to bend them at times. Five points for Gryffindor.

"However, that is, in all likelihood, the easiest thing that I will ask of you in this class. The Patronus Charm is a rather complex spell, and were the need for it not so pressing, you would not come across it unless you were to enter the Ministry after you leave here.

"Simply put, it is a tremendously difficult spell to master. Few indeed are those who can conjure a true Patronus. Even if you are extremely good at magic, chances are that you will struggle with conjuring a Patronus. Gryffindor, of course, are lucky to have within their ranks a proficient caster of Patroni. Indeed, I believe Mr Potter mastered the spell in his third year. You may wish to look to Mr Potter as a source of inspiration should you struggle with the Patronus. Alternatively, you may wish to try out Zonko's latest products on your classmate for being an insufferable know-it-all."

The class, which had become somewhat nervous upon hearing Dumbledore's note of caution, laughed, and the atmosphere brightened somewhat.

Dumbledore looked around, and seemed to be searching for something. "Miss Granger, as I denied you your chance to answer my question, I should like you to tackle the Dementor first. Would you come forward?"

Hermione stood reluctantly, and walked up to the wardrobe. "Professor, please. I really don't think I'm the right person-"

"Nonsense. I understand that you have encountered Dementors before?" Hermione nodded, her face pale.

"Well, you are ideal, then. I could ask Harry to face it, and I know he would win, but he already knows the spell, he knows how to fight a Dementor. You, on the other hand, do not. No, you will face the Dementor, and should you defeat it, you will better appreciate your success."

Dumbledore turned to face the wardrobe. "Remember, Miss Granger, Expecto Patronum. And think happy thoughts. I myself like to think of my brother's eighteenth birthday, when I discovered just how nice Butterbeer is. I was very happy that night..."

Dumbledore's wand suddenly shot forth a series of sparks, and the wardrobe began to change shape. Hermione, caught by surprise, barely had time to draw her own wand before there stood before her a full size Dementor.

"Expecto Patronum!" she cried, frozen in place as the light of the room dimmed around her.

"Expecto Patronum! Expecto P- Expe-"

"It's no wonder no-one can stand her," Ron said to Harry. "She's a nightmare, honestly!"

"No-one can stand her. She's a nightmare. No-one can stand her. A nightmare. No-one can stand her. No-one can stand her-" Hermione felt her legs go out from under her, and then blackness.

*

"Miss Granger, wake up now. Here, have some chocolate," Dumbledore's eyes were concerned behind his glasses, but as soon as Hermione started to move, his face became much cheerier.

"It often takes people like that," he said, helping Hermione up as she nibbled listlessly on some chocolate. "Now, where's your wand, oh, thank you Mr Longbottom."

Hermione sat quietly through the rest of the lesson, barely registering the other students each tackling the faux Dementor. At the end, when Professor Dumbledore announced that the Dementor was actually rather weak compared to the real thing, Hermione whimpered involuntarily, making Ron turn to check on her. She shied away from her friend's inquiring gaze, instead focussing on her wand. She tried to think of any other time when she'd been unable to cast a spell, and failed. This was the only spell she'd never been able to do, and that stung nearly as much as the realisation of her worst fear. She looked up at the Dementor again as Harry advanced on it. She saw his step falter slightly, but then he cast the spell, and a great silver stag erupted from the tip of his wand, charging down the Dementor, which fell to the floor with an almighty crash.

Professor Dumbledore looked in dismay at the remains of the wardrobe from which he had conjured the Dementor.

"Yes, I think you have mastered that spell, Harry," he said waving his wand futilely over the wooden remnants. "Well, at least as Headmaster I can set my own punishment for damaging school property. No sherbet lemons for a week, perhaps..."

*

The Gryffindors left the lesson in high spirits. Although no-one other than Harry had managed to fight back the Dementor, most of the students were cheerful after the exciting session. Only Hermione was downcast, and Ron was quick to offer comfort.

"Come on, Hermione," he said. "Stop worrying just because you couldn't beat the Dementor. So what? No-one cares! What are the chances of running into one of those things again, anyway?"

But Hermione wasn't listening. Stung not only by her failure to cast the Patronus, but also by the memory of her worst fear, she hurried away from Ron and Harry. They looked after her, helplessly.

*

Later that week, Ginny and Harry sat laughing with Ron when Fred and George walked quietly into the Great Hall. The two had been in such low spirits since upsetting Ginny that Harry was beginning to feel sorry for them. Looking around, he saw Colin Creevey talking animatedly to his friends, his ever-present camera dangling from his neck. He also spotted Neville Longbottom, who still looked somewhat subdued after the Dementor's attack. At that moment, Professor McGonagall walked up and stopped beside him, looking down at him and Ginny.

"Mr Potter, Miss Weasley," she said. "Your private practise sessions have been approved by Professor Dumbledore. Potter, as you are a Prefect, I shall give you this, in the belief you won't use it improperly." She handed Harry a key. "It is the key to the Transfiguration classroom on the second floor. Now, I don't wish to hear any reports of Gryffindor students behaving improperly, do I make myself clear?" Harry and Ginny looked at one another, confused, but nodded anyway. "Very well, then. Good luck to you both in your studies. Oh, and Mr Potter, do make sure you pick a good Keeper for the Quidditch team this Saturday."

She walked off, and Harry was struck by a sudden inspiration. He grinned widely for a second, and then jumped from his seat, striding around the table to where Fred and George were sitting, trying not to stare at Angelina and Alicia.

"Fred, George, how'd you like to get the girls back on your side?" he said. Fred and George looked at him hopefully.

"Harry, I think I speak for both halves of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, when I say... How?" George said.

"Help me out with a plan I have for Saturday afternoon..." Harry said.

*

On Friday the plan was put into action. Notes seemed to appear from nowhere in the Gryffindor common room, and soon everyone was invited to a 'quiet gathering' the following afternoon in greenhouse three. The notes were signed F.H.G. which confused most of the students, though a few looked suspiciously at the Weasley twins.

The following morning, Quidditch practise was begun with the selection of the new team Keeper. Harry wore his glowstone for the first time, and was extremely grateful for the warmth Hermione's present supplied. The brisk autumn air had the team shivering as they re-familiarised themselves with their brooms.

After a short shooting session in which Katie, Alicia and Angelina quickly whittled down the hopefuls for the vacant goalkeeper's spot, Ron was left to face a third year by the name of James Staunton. The shots rained in from every angle, but the two hopefuls were equal to the challenge, until Ron pulled off a stunning save that made James concede defeat. He graciously accepted a place in the reserves, with the friendly promise to push Ron hard for a place in the team.

"Three Weasleys in the team!" Fred bellowed.

"Can't wait till Bill and Charlie hear about this," George added. Both twins seemed to have recovered some of their natural exuberance in the light of the previous night's activities.

"Now, as for the captaincy..." Angelina interrupted, her expression still a little frosty when she looked at Fred or George. "I don't think there's much to decide. Harry still has three years to go, so it has to be him. We'll all be much too busy with our N.E.W.Ts to focus properly. In theory," she added, with another glance at Fred and George.

"I'll do it, but only if Ron is co-captain," Harry said quickly. "He knows more about Quidditch than I do."

"Wow, Harry, really?" Ron gasped, his mouth wide open. Fred and George slapped their hands to their foreheads in mock despair.

"How could you, Harry?" George sighed heavily. "Our own little brother, Captain of the house team."

"He'll be a terror," Fred agreed. "You thought Oliver was bad..."

The team laughed, and headed back towards the Gryffindor common room, the hour of the gathering drawing near.

*

Hermione was delighted with the news of Ron's sudden elevation. She hugged him impulsively, then pulled away, looking a little flustered. Harry could barely hide his grin, especially when he saw how red Ron was blushing. They joined Seamus, Lavender, Dean and Neville as they trooped across the grounds toward greenhouse three, Harry's heart thumping as he prayed that Fred and George had done their work properly.

As the Gryffindors gathered at the greenhouse door, the greenhouse filled slowly with black smoke, and the lights inside flickered. As the interior of the greenhouse became fully black, the door swung open soundlessly, and out came two dark figures, garbed in the robes of the Dementors.

However, instead of being scared, the Gryffindors began to laugh. These Dementors were about four foot tall, and each had 'Boo!!' emblazoned in glowing gold letters across the front of their black robes.

"Are we scary?" intoned one of the mini-Dementors.

"Er, no," Angelina said, stepping forward and pushing the hood back off it's head. Fred Weasley was revealed beneath, grinning hugely. Alicia Spinnet stepped forward and removed the other Dementor's hood, revealing George Weasley's freckled face.

"Well?" Alicia said, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Er... We... that is, Fred, our partner and myself, decided that we all needed cheering up after the Dementors tried it on the train. So we're going to party."

"Yeah, that's right. There's a few other reasons as well," Fred added. "Like we wanted to say sorry to our sister for being gits..."

"...and it's Colin's birthday..."

"...and one of our new co-captains ordered us to do it," Fred finished.

"What do you reckon, Ginny?" Katie asked.

"Make them stand up," Ginny said, her eyes narrowed. Fred and George glanced at each other, and slowly stood up, revealing that their Dementor robes ended just above their knees, and exposing their milk white lower legs to the assembled crowd.

"I think they're forgiven now," Ginny said, trying hard not to burst out laughing.

"Agreed," Angelina said, leaning forward and kissing Fred. Beside her, Alicia did the same to George, who even more than his brother looked delighted with the result. Harry pushed forward through the crowd.

"I now declare this party... Open!" he yelled, waving his wand at the smoke in the greenhouse. It dissipated quickly, revealing the interior hung with red and gold decorations, and the potting benches covered in plates of food and jugs of drink. The Gryffindors roared their approval, and rushed into the greenhouse.

*

The party went on for several hours, until Hagrid came to chase them away. Harry finally managed to give Colin his present, a book of award-winning photographs from the Muggle sporting world. He also took the time to thank Colin for his own thoughtful birthday present, which turned Colin Ginny-red, and made his friends jealous and delighted in equal measures.

Neville seemed to have recovered, Harry noticed. He was dancing with Daniella Spinnet, right next to George and Alicia, and was joining in the banter between the two couples. As Harry looked on, he seemed to land a verbal jab that had George reeling away in mock agony, and Daniella laughing uncontrollably. Neville flushed red with pleasure at winning the small victory, and Harry grinned.

Towards the end, Harry saw Ginny dancing and laughing with several of her friends, and dodged out on the dance floor to try and grab her for a quick word. As he passed Hermione, who was chatting happily with Angelina and Fred, he felt his feet tugged from under him, and went sprawling ignominiously at Ginny's feet.

"We must stop meeting like this," Ginny said through the laughter as she helped Harry up. "I don't suppose all that effort was to try and get me to dance with you?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Another time?" Harry begged off, rubbing his bruised hip. "I think a slow limp is about all I'm good for now. I could have sworn there was nothing in my way... Ah well, I just wanted to ask when you were free for practising the Patronus, if you still want to, that is."

"Um, what about tomorrow night? I don't have much homework yet."

"Really? Professor Binns gave us loads."

"Wish you were back in the fourth year, Harry?"

"If you were there with me? Of course," he said, teasingly. Even as he said it, however, he cursed himself. Wonderful, Potter. What next? Going to try and kiss her again? Just when she seems to have forgiven you for last time.

Ginny, meanwhile, was looking at him curiously. "Think I'd let you copy me, do you?" she said, at last.

"Would you let me if I asked?" he replied, staring at her over the top of his glasses. Inside, his stomach churned as he tried to gauge her reaction. He wasn't at all experienced at flirting, but with Ginny, it seemed to be all he could do.

"I think maybe I should say no," she replied, quietly. "Who knows what you might ask me for after that?"

It was at just that moment that Hagrid came bursting through the doors, completely killing the mood.

*

"Hermione, that was horrible!" Ginny whispered, as Hagrid shepherded the Gryffindors back to the school.

"You wanted Harry to talk to you, didn't you?" Hermione asked.

"He was coming over to talk to me anyway!" Ginny hissed.

"In that case," Hermione replied, "you may have noticed that you're much happier talking to Harry when he's looking a bit silly. If he'd come over looking like the House Quidditch Captain and party organiser, how do you think you would have reacted."

"Well..." Ginny said, but then retaliated. "Well, so what? He doesn't like me that way, Hermione. He was teasing me, so he must think I don't like him anymore. So, that's that. I can get on with my life. No magic bond. I'm Harry's friend."

She hurried on ahead, leaving Hermione to shake her head alone. But only for a second.

"What was all that about?" Ron asked, popping up by her side.

"Girl talk," Hermione said.

"My sister having girl talk? Not sure I like the sound of that, Hermione," Ron said, grinning. Hermione stopped short.

"Ron, what would you do if Ginny liked someone?" she asked.

"Don't know," Ron said. "Why, does she?"

"I was just wondering," Hermione said, evasively. "You're always so protective of her, you, Fred, George, all of you."

"She's our little sister, how are we supposed to be? And yeah, okay," he added, holding up his hand as Hermione went to reply. "She's her own person, and has to make her own mistakes, but maybe there are times when we can stop her having to. I know she doesn't like it sometimes, but can you imagine the letters Mum'd send us if she got hurt?"

"You didn't answer my question," Hermione said, gently. He looked at her curiously, but shrugged and went on.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess, if he was an okay sort like Dean, or, or. . . I don't know, Harry maybe, then that'd be okay. But if you're trying to tell me my sister likes Malfoy..." he grinned.

"Don't worry," Hermione replied. "If Ginny does like someone, I think you'll find she'd have better taste than that."