Harry Potter:Raised by Wolves

Wrapped up in a web of lies and secrets, Harry had completely forgotten about Buckbeak until he, Ron, and Hermione visited Hagrid—only to find the man crying into his enormous teacup. Guilt settled heavily in Harry's gut. He was being a terrible friend. The only reason they had gone to Hagrid in the first place was that Ron and Hermione seemed to think he was planning to hunt down Sirius Black. The old Harry probably would have, under that Compulsion curse. The new Harry had bigger things on his mind.

Still, he made an honest effort to help with the research for Buckbeak's case. Ron lasted all of four hours in the library before making an excuse and bailing, while Harry stuck it out for six. It wasn't the research itself that was the problem, nor even the time spent buried in books—Hermione's preferred study style was just a little… overwhelming for those around her. She was much better suited to independent research. Eventually, Harry grew tired of her yanking books out of his hands every time he thought he'd found something interesting and left her to it.

In the days leading up to Christmas, he barely saw his two best friends. Sure, they were around, and they still spent evenings together in the common room. But honestly, Harry couldn't remember the last time they'd had a real conversation—one that wasn't about some disaster or another. Sometimes it felt like they only came together to solve problems. And whenever there was a rare moment of quiet between them, it was promptly ruined by Crookshanks existing in Ron's presence, leading to yet another rant about how the "evil cat" was out for blood. It was easier for Harry to just… not.

Luckily, Professor Lupin had agreed to start teaching him the Patronus Charm. Harry was practically vibrating with excitement the first time he approached Lupin's office. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of the enormous packing case on the man's desk. It was rattling.

"What's that?"

"Another boggart. It's the closest we can get to a dementor without actually inviting one into the castle, and, well," Lupin said with a wry smile, "this is far easier to deal with."

Harry thought about facing a real dementor, and his stomach turned over. Yes, the boggart was a much better idea.

He listened attentively as Lupin explained the Patronus Charm, repeating the incantation in his head. "Expecto Patronum," he murmured, testing the way the words felt in his mouth. "I just need a happy memory?"

"The happiest one you can think of," Lupin confirmed. "When you've got one, give it a try."

Harry stood, lips pursed in thought. As tragic as it was, he didn't have an abundance of happy memories. He sorted through a few—when Hagrid had told him he was a wizard? No, that had mostly been confusion. His first Christmas at Hogwarts? That didn't feel quite right either.

Eventually, he settled on his first time flying a broom. Simple, uncomplicated, breathless joy. He held the memory in his mind, gripping his wand tightly.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing happened.

He focused harder on the memory. "Expecto Patronum!"

A burst of silvery wisps shot out of his wand, and Harry nearly dropped it in shock. "Look! I did it! Sort of." It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"Well done, Harry!" Lupin enthused, grinning in a way that made him look so much like the young man in the back of the Potters' wedding photo that Harry's breath caught for a moment. "Are you ready to try it against a dementor?"

"Yeah," Harry said, squaring his shoulders and facing the desk. "Let's do it."

His blood roared in his ears, the happy memory at the forefront of his mind. Only… it wasn't entirely there. A small voice in the back of his head reminded him that he was about to hear her again. His mother. The only time he ever heard her voice.

Lupin opened the packing case, and before Harry could truly brace himself, the room turned cold. A dark figure loomed above him. His hand trembled as he struggled to gather his happy thoughts.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The dementor drew closer. The world began to blur at the edges, and the scream started to build in Harry's mind.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Lily, take Harry and go! It's him!

A new voice. A male voice. White fog filled Harry's vision.

I'll hold him off!

A crash—like a door bursting off its hinges.

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

The warmth was returning to the room. Harry became aware of two things: he was sprawled on the floor of the office, and Lupin was tapping his face urgently.

"Harry! Merlin, are you alright? I'm so sorry, I should have eased you into it more, I—"

"It's fine. I'm fine," Harry croaked, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. He still felt shaky. Lupin thrust a chocolate frog into his hands.

"I didn't expect you to get it on the first try. I would have been astounded if you had," Lupin reassured him, though he still looked concerned.

"It's getting worse," Harry murmured, thinking about what he had just heard. That had to be… his father. James Potter's voice. He had never heard it before.

"If you want to stop, I completely understand—"

"No," Harry insisted, biting the head off the chocolate frog. "I can do this. Let's go again."

Lupin made him wait until his hands stopped trembling, then helped him to his feet and moved toward the packing case.

"You might want to try a happier memory," he suggested. "It's possible the one you were using wasn't strong enough."

Harry combed through his limited stash of happy memories and finally settled on winning the House Cup the year before. He nodded. "Do it."

The lights dimmed. The room turned cold once more. That awful rattling breath echoed through the office. Harry clenched his jaw, forcing the memory to the forefront of his mind.

"Expecto Patronum! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

This time, an enormous silver shadow burst from his wand, sending the dementor reeling back several steps. Harry's eyes widened. Lupin stepped in with a sharp "Riddikulus," and the boggart shrank back into the case, transforming into a silvery orb before disappearing. Harry's Patronus vanished. The lamps flickered back to life, and Harry collapsed into the chair behind him, panting.

"I did it!" He felt like he had run a mile, but he was grinning, and Lupin returned the expression.

"Excellent, Harry! A fantastic start."

"Let's go again," Harry urged.

Lupin sighed.

"Please, sir. Just one more time."

Once more, Harry managed to conjure a silver shadow large enough to cut off the dementor before the screaming started. It probably wouldn't hold up against a real dementor, but it was progress. Lupin insisted that was enough for the day.

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