Rising from Embers

RISING FROM EMBERS
by shiiki

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CHAPTER THREE

Slivers of Hope

October, 1976

‘Dementors,’ said Professor Trimble, pacing the length of the classroom floor. He stopped at the window and turned to face the class. ‘One of the foulest Dark creatures to ever walk the earth.’

The seventh-year Defence class watched him silently, attentively. Then Stella Engle raised her hand.

‘Miss Engle.’

‘Are they any relation to Lethifolds, Professor?’

‘Good, take a point for Ravenclaw,’ said Professor Trimble approvingly. ‘Dementors and Lethifolds stem from the same family tree. However, while a Lethifold devours its prey whole, leaving no trace of its victim, Dementors leave behind an empty shell of a person after delivering its most lethal weapon: the Dementor’s Kiss. The victim’s soul is sucked out.’ He paused, allowing the impact of his words to sink in.

‘We will focus more on Dementors in this class. While Lethifolds are essentially Dark creatures and akin to Dementors, they have a considerably milder mental effect on people, and it is unlikely that one will ever appear in Britain, as they dwell solely in tropical climates. I believe Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them has a comprehensible section on Lethifolds, which you may consult if you should wish.

‘Dementors, now, have a great impact on the human mind, which makes them harder to repulse. Go near a Dementor, and every happy thought will be sucked out of your head, leaving you with your darkest moments of despair. This is the reason why battling Dementors is near impossible for many experienced wizards and witches, even though they may master the defensive spell.’ With a few swift strides, he crossed to the blackboard and wrote, in large block letters, Expecto Patronum.

‘The Patronus Charm,’ he announced. ‘The only known resistance to Dementors. It takes a great deal of power and mental will to conjure it in the presence of one, because it requires the opposite of what the Dementor purports in order to succeed, and this must be supplied by the wizard casting the spell.

‘You will notice that rather than a curse, it is a charm that repels Dementors. This brings us back to a distinction which you should all have learnt in first year. Can you tell me what that is … Mr Lupin?’

‘Charms and curses are of opposite ends of a spectrum, Professor,’ recited Remus. ‘With charms being the Light end, and curses tending towards the Dark.’

But that’s not wholly true, is it? wondered Lily. They had learnt basic defensive spells in fourth and fifth year, and many of those had been curses. If curses could be used as protection against the Dark Arts, was it right to classify them as ‘Dark’ as well?

‘A point to Gryffindor,’ said Professor Trimble. ‘So, let’s examine the Patronus Charm. Incidentally, it works against Lethifolds as well; the Patronus – take note that the plural is Patronuses and not Patroni – when properly conjured is fairly solid, and thus may also repel other Dark creatures and theoretically, even serve as a physical deterrent to attackers, although this has never exactly been experimented on.’

‘Why not, Professor?’ asked Potter.

‘The difficulty of the charm makes it a less suitable choice of defence against simpler Dark creatures – say, the boggart; or the Kappa.’

‘But if you could do it –’

‘Only a corporeal Patronus will have a significant effect, at any rate. Yes, Miss Meadowes?’

‘What do you mean by a “corporeal Patronus”?’

‘A corporeal Patronus takes on a visible form. A clear, solid form, unlike more feeble attempts, which only produce a silvery mist. Let me demonstrate.’ Professor Trimble waved his wand and said, in a strangely bored tone, ‘Expecto Patronum.’

A burst of silvery dust shot out from his wand, looking very much like mist in the air. Professor Trimble gave his wand another wave and the mist dissolved.

‘A non-distinct Patronus. It happens when a lack of emotion has been put into performing the charm. The Patronus Charm is a strong bit of magic, and like all strong magic, it requires the caster to feel for it; no simple muttering of incantations and wand-waving techniques can guarantee the success of the Patronus. In fact, the wand movement is irrelevant. Besides the incantation, a Patronus Charm is not something you can memorise and practise blindly to perform. Watch.’

Professor Trimble took a deep breath. He seemed to be concentrating hard on something. And then he bellowed, ‘Expecto Patronum!’

A silver figure shot out of his wand, four-legged with pointed ears and a snout bearing two prominent nostrils. A giant pig gambolled across the classroom; the class erupted in laughter.

‘That’s a Patronus?’ grinned Black. ‘A pig?’

Professor Trimble looked greatly affronted. He made his Patronus disappear with a curt wave of his wand.

‘Each Patronus is unique to the wizard who casts the charm. No two Patronuses are alike – even if they may be the same creature. There are many theories about what Patronuses actually are, but we will not go into that now. The essential thing to note is that your Patronus will be like a shield, a guard against a Dementor.’

The class didn’t look like they quite believed this. Lily didn’t blame them; she had trouble imagining the silver pig, large though it was, charging down a Dark creature. It seemed more likely to oink and roll around in the mud.

‘Enough of this now. Wands out – it’s time to see how far you get with the charm. You have the incantation on the board; you have the rest of the lesson to attempt it. Proceed!’

Lily extracted her wand, feeling confused. The Patronus Charm was likely more complex magic; the stronger the magic, the greater involvement was required in performing it. However, Professor Trimble had not mentioned exactly what form this involvement should take; what emotional attachment the charm needed.

‘Expecto Patronum,’ Lily said tentatively. As expected, nothing happened. Around her, her classmates were having no greater success. Alice was staring at the board with a bemused sort of expression. Stella attempted the charm, trying all sorts of different pronunciations, but to no avail. Black was getting frustrated as not even the slightest hint of a mist appeared.

Lily glanced at Professor Trimble. He was leaning against the wall in a corner, watching smugly as the class tried in vain to produce even a non-distinct Patronus. Lily had a feeling that it was a sort of quiz – and Professor Trimble wasn’t about to supply the answer until they had exhausted themselves figuring it out.

‘There’s something he hasn’t told us,’ said Potter behind her. Lily turned to look at him and nodded.

‘Like the Boggart-Repelling Charm,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘That needs laughter …’

‘Humour,’ said Potter. ‘That’s the essence of the spell. We haven’t got the essence of this one – that’s why we can’t do it.’

Lily was taken aback. Potter was right. They needed to find the essence of the charm – the basis for the magic’s formation.

‘It’ll take a powerful Revealing Charm first to uncover the spell web.’ An Auror had told her that last year. Would that advice work here? If she could understand where the Patronus Charm stemmed from …

‘Perspicuous Expecto Patronum,’ said Lily, not entirely sure if her idea would work.

There was a small burst of light. The rest of the class turned to stare. The ball of light glowed, a kind of warmth emanating from it; an encouraging feeling flooded through Lily, only she couldn’t quite place what it was.

Slowly, she lowered her wand. The light and its radiating warmth faded, but Lily felt happy. Whatever it was, the light had spread a feeling of joy through the room.

Joy.

The Patronus Charm opposed Dementors. Dementors sucked joy and happiness from a person.

‘It’s happiness, isn’t it?’ Potter had reached the same conclusion as her. ‘You’ve got to be happy to cast it.’

‘Ten points to Gryffindor,’ said Professor Trimble, beaming. ‘That’s right. As you all have probably felt, thanks to Miss Evan’s little demonstration, the Patronus Charm has its roots in pure joy. This has to be injected into your spell for it to succeed. Which is why none of you, bored, frustrated or confused as you were, could manage a successful attempt.

‘To perform the Patronus Charm, you need to have on your mind a single, happy thought – you must concentrate on the joy this thought brings you as you cast the spell. As you may recall, if you were listening to me previously, Dementors suck out all the happiness, leaving only despair, and this is precisely the reason why it is extremely difficult to perform the Patronus Charm to repel them.’

The bell rang then, signalling the end of class. There was a rustle as everyone shoved their quills and parchment into their bags.

‘Homework: three feet on why the Patronus Charm is an effective deterrent to Dementors, to be handed in the next lesson,’ concluded Professor Trimble. ‘We will continue to work on the charm then. Class is dismissed.’

~ * ~

Hallowe’en was approaching. James considered this during Potions, as he lazily skinned his Shrivelfig for the Essence of Euphoria that they were supposed to be making. There would almost certainly be a Hogsmeade trip near Hallowe’en. His eyes flickered across the room to where Lily was bent over her cauldron.

Contrary to what he had told Remus at the start of the term, James was finding it hard to keep away from Lily. He’d refrained from asking her out, or making any uncalled-for advances towards her so far, and she in return had been civil towards him. But she remained unreachable as ever, and although James thought he probably wasn’t good enough for her, he couldn’t really stop thinking about her.

Would it hurt, he wondered, to try, just one last time, to ask her out to Hogsmeade? Dare he try again, knowing that refusal was likely imminent?

His knife slipped and sliced his index finger. James let out a yelp and dropped the knife with a clatter. Several students jumped, Lily included. She looked across the room, annoyed at the disturbance, although her glance softened when it landed on the blood trickling from his finger.

‘Merlin, James, will you be careful with that knife,’ muttered Sirius.

‘Just a small cut, Potter, no need to fuss,’ said Professor Slughorn, ambling over. He peered into James’s cauldron. ‘You’ll need to work faster, though; you ought to be at least adding the fig leaves by now.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said James. Sighing, he ran his wand over his finger. The cut closed up immediately and he threw in his skinned Shrivelfig. Gritting his teeth, he stared determinedly at his cauldron and proceeded to speed up.

~ * ~

Lily was beginning to dread prefect meetings.

Granted, they were only held once a week, a gathering where pertinent issues regarding upcoming events and – what Lily dreaded most – discipline were discussed, and the rest of the prefect body received their instructions from the Head Boy and Girl.

In Lily’s case, it was just the Head Girl. Potter still hadn’t spoken at any of the past meetings, just watched quietly from his seat beside her.

She watched now as he nodded to her and took his seat, where he would most likely remain mute for the rest of the session. The other prefects were filing into the classroom at a snail’s pace. Lily wished they’d hurry up so she could get over with this meeting.

At long last, everybody was seated. There were still two empty seats among the Slytherin prefects. It was already five minutes into meeting time.

‘This meeting will come to order,’ said Lily, trying to inject some life into her weary voice. ‘The first order of business will be Hallowe’en, which as you all know, is in two weeks. Professor McGonagall has requested that I nominate ten of you to help with decorations in the Great Hall.’

The prefects watched her warily, their eyes clearly showing their apprehension at being chosen.

‘I’ll ask, then –’

The classroom door opened with a clang, interrupting her sentence. Cassius Meliflua and Drucilla Malfoy strolled in casually.

‘You’re late,’ said Lily sharply. Drucilla looked down her perfectly chiselled nose at her and pursed her lips. Meliflua merely smirked.

‘What are you going to do about that?’

It was a challenge to her authority. Lily decided it would be best to let it pass this time.

‘Sit and don’t let it happen again,’ she told them, wondering briefly what she would do if they tried to counter her. Thankfully, they sat, still sneering. Lily took a deep breath and continued.

‘As I was saying, who would like to volunteer to help with Hallowe’en decorations?’

The classroom was completely silent. A feeling of despair washed across Lily as twenty-four pairs of eyes continued to stare blankly at her.

‘Volunteers?’ said Drucilla Malfoy condescendingly, as if the notion was beneath her. ‘I was under the impression that it was customary for the work to be assigned to the lower-ranked prefects.’

‘I merely hoped for some initiative,’ Lily explained. To her horror, she could hear a plea in her voice.

Mareta Quimble, the sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect, suggested cautiously, ‘Maybe you could draw lots. Since – I reckon no one’s keen on it …’ A derisive snort from Meliflua caused her to shut her mouth, red-faced.

‘I’ll do it,’ said Potter suddenly, raising his hand. Everyone’s gaze shifted to him in surprise.

‘I volunteer too,’ said Remus, looking slightly shamefaced. He was followed by a number of hesitant prefects, after they had recovered from the initial shock caused by Potter, who was probably the busiest among them, what with the seventh-year workload and his role as Quidditch captain, volunteering.

Lily took down the names as though in a daze, not quite believing that she’d succeeded – no, James Potter had succeeded in making the prefects take initiative in the usually allocated duties.

‘Thank you,’ she told them gratefully. A look at the next thing on the agenda brought her firmly and dismally back to reality, however. ‘The next order of business is –’ Lily swallowed hard ‘– reports.’ Bracing herself for the inevitable storm of problems and complaints, she looked around enquiringly.

‘I’ve had to confiscate twenty-eight more forbidden items since last meeting,’ Dionysus McKinnon started off seriously. ‘I think students have the impression that we aren’t as serious about helping the school administration enforce the rules.’

‘I agree,’ said Bernard Callusby, the bespectacled Hufflepuff sixth-year. ‘Some of the students just won’t listen when we tell them off.’

‘I’m sure it’s not everyone in the school we’re dealing with here,’ said Lily. ‘Just some isolated pranksters …’

‘We’re facing hostility from the Slytherins in particular,’ Chris Berguise said darkly.

‘Exactly how do you lot treat us?’ Altair Nott flared up immediately.

‘It would help if you didn’t keep bullying our first-years,’ objected Mareta.

‘As well as bullying,’ interjected Lily sternly, ‘there hasn’t been a decrease in the number of fights going around the school – magic or non. Something’s going to have to be done. We keep stopping them, and bringing in the teachers, but we need to get at the root of the problem.’

‘If you’re talking about why they’re fighting,’ said Benjy Fenwick, ‘we’re on opposing sides of the war, aren’t we?’

‘And what sides are those, Fenwick?’ sneered Meliflua.

‘You think we don’t know you Slytherins are a bad lot – You-Know-Who was a Slytherin!’

‘Stop it!’ Lily said desperately. ‘This is why we can’t help keep more peace in the school, if we’re squabbling among ourselves!’

‘Seems more likely,’ said Meliflua distinctly, ‘that the lack of discipline is a result of having ineffective leaders for the student population. And quite understandable, Evans. You can’t expect us to respect a Mudblood.’

There was instant uproar. Lily could barely make herself heard over the din that ensued: the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor prefects yelling at Meliflua and decrying all of Slytherin house, Nott defending his house heatedly. It was all over a word, a meaningless distinction. Mudblood was just a word; it didn’t hurt anyone physically … but it was an excuse – their excuse – to let the fighting continue. And she couldn’t make them see otherwise. Lily felt like crying.

‘Shut it, all of you!’ Potter’s bellow effectively quietened the room. He seemed to quail slightly; not all the cold, mistrustful stares fixed on him were from the Slytherin end – in fact, Dionysus was watching him with narrowed eyes. But then he stood a little straighter and continued, ‘It’s just like Lily said, isn’t it? Fine role models we are –’

‘Look who’s talking,’ interrupted Meliflua.

‘I know I’m no saint,’ Potter shot back. ‘And neither are the rest of you. Think about it – sometime in the past, whether recent or not, a small incident became a big grudge, and we just have to get revenge. That’s why we’re fighting, isn’t it? Because we can’t look beyond what happened in the past. Think about that – I know I have.’

There was a reflective hush following these words. Even Meliflua was silenced, unable to formulate a retort.

‘You can’t – you can’t generalise that,’ said Benjy Fenwick finally. His voice was faint and had a hint of defensiveness.

‘Maybe not. But I’m sure it’s true for most of us here. Maybe you’ve been picked on. Or called – certain names far too long. Or lost someone in the war and you need to take it out on those you think are responsible.’ Potter’s eyes searched the room, as though for an indication of assent, and met Lily’s.

‘Not many of us have been able to transcend our petty arguments when we deal with each other. But Lily – she’s trying to get us to do so. That’s why she’s Head Girl, Meliflua, however that irks you. She’s just and fair and she’s the right choice. Blood ties don’t command respect, but decency does.’

Meliflua opened his mouth to comment, but Dionysus beat him to it.

‘What about you, then?’ The hidden meaning of his simple words wasn’t wasted on Lily – she could see clearly that Dionysus was irked that he wasn’t Head Boy.

Potter met Dionysus’s eyes levelly. He didn’t answer immediately – sizing up the opponent, was the first thought that sprang to Lily’s mind, even though she knew it was rather unfair to jump to such a conclusion.

‘I know you’re wondering why I’m Head Boy. And not just one of you. I don’t know. I don’t doubt that you’re more qualified, McKinnon. Or Remus.’ He acknowledged this with a nod to Remus’s direction. ‘Or Chris – or even you, Meliflua.’ His tone turned sceptical on the last, but thankfully he kept it to a minimum. Meliflua’s lip curled, but he said nothing.

‘But I’ve been given this responsibility, for some unknown reason. And there’s nothing I can do but to live up to it. I’m not going to step down – simply because trust was put in me to undertake this task, and that trust isn’t going to be destroyed if I can help it.’

Lily would hardly have expected that a meagre speech, albeit a compelling one (Potter was decidedly charismatic, she had to admit), to invoke an astronomical change in attitudes. Indeed, there was still distrust and ambivalence noticeably written on the faces of the other prefects.

But there were small signs of positivity: a spark of approval in Chris’s eyes; Remus’s nod of encouragement; the hint of a smile lighting on Stella Engle’s face. Dionysus continued to frown, but quiet acceptance was beginning to dawn in his eyes.

It was a step forward.

‘Er – is there any other business?’ asked Lily, breaking the silence. No one made to bring up any other issues. Relieved, she nodded. ‘The meeting will end here, then. See you next week.’

She lingered at the table, under the pretence of meticulously packing her quills and parchment, as the other prefects filed out. Only when they had all left the room did she allow herself to slump in her seat and lean her head against her arms, feeling peculiarly drained. In comparison with precedent meetings, this one hadn’t been quite so taxing … but it left her mind whirling.

Were the rest of the prefects finally coming to terms with her and Potter? She hadn’t been very comfortable with Potter extolling what he believed to be her virtues, but he’d made a valid deduction about the motivations behind the fighting. And for the first time, he was making an effort … and Lily felt a small bubble of hope that maybe – just maybe, he really could be more than he had been …

A glance at her watch told her that she had better be getting back to Gryffindor Tower. Languidly, she stood and put out the lamps. Gathering her belongings, she exited the classroom.

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A/N: I invented the incantation Perspicuous as I thought there must be more Revealing Charms than the standard Aparecium out there. It’s derived from the Latin word perspicuus (clear; transparent; bright; evident).