October 30th, 1996
The common room felt emptier than usual for a Hogsmeade weekend. Most of the castle had flocked to the village, eager for butterbeer and sweets from Honeydukes. I'd been left behind—officially because my permission slip wasn't signed, but I knew there were other reasons. Sirius Black's name still drifted through the corridors like a ghost, always with a glance in my direction, eyes full of worry and secrets.
The castle was quieter, too—stripped of laughter and chatter, just the distant echoes of footsteps and the occasional pop from a torch. I drifted through the halls until I found myself outside Professor Lupin's office.
I knocked lightly, and his voice called me in. Lupin sat behind his cluttered desk, a half-drunk mug of tea at his elbow, and a stack of essays balanced precariously on one corner. He looked tired, but his eyes warmed as he saw me.
"Harry," he said with a gentle smile. "No Hogsmeade trip today?"
I shook my head. "No permission slip," I said, trying to sound casual.
He nodded, his eyes soft. "Don't worry, Harry. Maybe you would be allowed to visit Hogsmeade next year."
I hesitated, then took a breath trying to act like a scared third year should feel. "Professor… on the train, when the Dementors came—I tried to cast a Patronus. It was… barely a mist. It fizzled out almost immediately. I've been reading about the spell, but… I want to learn to do it properly. Could you help me?"
Lupin's expression turned serious, the lines around his mouth deepening. "That's a difficult charm, Harry—one of the most advanced defensive spells there is. But you've already managed to produce a mist, and that's more than most can do on their first try."
I shifted in my chair. "I just— I don't want to feel that helpless again."
He regarded me for a long moment, then nodded. "I understand that better than you might think."
He leaned back, eyes distant for a moment. "Books can teach you the incantation, the wand movement, and the theory behind the spell. But there's something they can't teach you—something you can only learn by experience."
I leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "What's that?"
Lupin smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "The Patronus is more than a shield, Harry. It's a piece of your own happiness—your most powerful memory, your strongest feeling of hope, given shape. The Dementors feed on every dark thought you've ever had, every fear, every regret. To fight them, you need to find something stronger inside yourself—something bright enough to cut through all that darkness."
I nodded slowly, absorbing his words. "So… it's not just about the spell."
"Exactly." Lupin's eyes glimmered with something almost like pride. "It's about finding that memory, that feeling, and holding onto it no matter what."
Before he could say more, the door swung open, and Professor Snape swept in, a goblet in one hand and a small steaming cauldron in the other. His black eyes flickered at me briefly but without the usual sneer.
"Your potion," he said in his clipped, neutral tone.
"Thank you, Severus," Lupin replied evenly.
Snape gave a short nod, then turned on his heel and left, his robes billowing behind him like smoke.
I stared after him, eyebrows raised. "That was… different," I muttered.
Lupin gave a small, tired smile. "Even Severus can manage civility on occasion."
He stood and gestured to the empty space in front of his desk. "Let's give the Patronus a try."
I rose, took my wand in hand, and focused. Lupin's voice was calm and steady. "Think of the happiest memory you can. Let it fill you. Don't force it—just let it grow."
I closed my eyes and reached for the memory of my parents—a different set of parents from a life I'd lived before. My mother's gentle smile as she taught me to read, and my father's hearty laugh always made me feel safe. Even though those memories belonged to another lifetime, they felt close enough to make my chest ache.
"Expecto Patronum!" I called, my voice trembling. A thin, silvery mist formed at the tip of my wand, but it flickered and died before it could take shape.
Lupin nodded approvingly. "That's a start. You have the intention right—you just need to strengthen it."
We practiced for a while, Lupin's calm encouragement guiding me through each attempt. The mist grew more stable, but a fully formed Patronus still eluded me. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and my magic felt drained, but I could sense that I was getting closer.
After another failed Patronus attempt fizzled out like smoke, Professor Lupin suggested we take a break. "You're doing well," he said gently, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Let's walk a bit, clear your head."
We wandered the castle grounds, the late afternoon sun painting everything in warm gold and orange. Leaves crunched underfoot, and a cool breeze carried the scent of autumn.
"Professor," I said after a while, my voice quiet, "you… knew my parents, right? James and Lily?"
Lupin looked at me, his expression softening with a faraway look. "Yes," he said, his voice warm with memory. "They were both remarkable—brave, loyal, and… always ready to stand up for what they believed in."
I looked down at the ground, scuffing the dirt with the toe of my shoe. "It's strange," I murmured. "I've heard stories, but… I wish I could understand what they were really like—from someone who actually knew them."
Lupin was quiet for a moment before replying, his voice gentle. "It's all right to feel that way," he said. "Not knowing them doesn't change who you are, Harry. You carry their spirit in ways you might not even realize."
I nodded slowly, my thoughts drifting. "Sometimes I just… wish I could've talked to them. Asked them what they'd think of me now."
Lupin's smile was sad but kind. "They'd be proud of you," he said, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder. "And I think—deep down—they'd know you're doing your best."
I let a small, grateful smile touch my lips, making sure it looked as natural as it felt. "Thanks, Professor," I said. I meant it, even if part of me also knew that this connection might help me in other ways down the line.
He gave my shoulder a light squeeze, his expression softening even more. "Anytime, Harry. Now," he added, his tone brightening, "how about another go at the Patronus? I think you're closer than you think."
I grinned, following him back toward the castle, the autumn wind rustling the leaves around us.