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A Guardian of moonlight swam through the air around the young witch. It paused in front of her, tentatively reaching out a paw as its bright, silver eyes met hers.
"Oh my gosh..."
Parvati Patil's eyes went wide as she stared at the adorable, glowing silver otter.
"Hermione! Your Patronus is an otter! It's so cute!"
Lavender Brown was even more excited than Hermione. She tugged at her sleeve, squealing in a whisper, afraid she might scare the Patronus away.
"..."
Hermione didn't even look up. She kept her wand raised, refusing to lower it as she stared, mesmerized, into the otter's silver eyes.
Excited chatter filled the clearing, rising and falling like waves.
The first corporeal Patronus had been a stag—powerful and sturdy, scattering the Dementors with its hooves and antlers. Then came Cedric's gray goose, soaring high and chasing the shadows across the sky.
When Hermione's otter appeared, it didn't carry the same intense urgency or look as "cool" as the first two, but its cuteness had a unique appeal.
This was exactly the kind of Patronus the girls had been hoping for. Suddenly energized, they began practicing their spells with renewed enthusiasm.
Amid the noise, Ron stood frozen, the silver light at the tip of his wand dim and fading.
Harry had been practicing all holiday, so his success made sense. But Hermione succeeded too?
Does that mean I'm the only one left?
A sense of urgency welled up inside Ron.
He had told Seamus and the others all about their holiday adventure—especially since Dumbledore had mentioned their names at the start-of-term feast. Seamus and Dean pestered him daily for details, as did the Creevey brothers. Harry and Hermione didn't have time to explain, so Ron, ever the helpful friend, had dropped a few hints.
The events of thirteen years ago were full of twists and turns, but that was the previous generation's story. Ron focused on this generation. However, many details couldn't be revealed: the Time-Turner, Lupin being a werewolf, Snape's crush on Harry's mom...
To answer his classmates' questions without letting the adventure lose its shine, he had added some artistic flair to the story. Peter's desperate counterattack, the Apparition within Hogwarts grounds, dragging them into a mysterious dimension...
In that dimension, they had faced monsters and fought their way out. The "Three Champions" had played crucial roles—especially Ron, who had embarked on a heroic journey of his own.
"..."
Now, things were getting awkward.
Harry had been the most diligent in practice and had a natural talent for Defense Against the Dark Arts, so Ron accepted his success.
But Hermione...
Sure, she was brilliant and hardworking, but she was a bookworm. She'd spent the whole break buried in the library, digging through headache-inducing legal texts and case files. She barely had any time to practice.
Because of this, Ron had assumed Hermione was at the same level as him. But now she had succeeded too!?
It was supposed to be an adventure shared by the three of them. The other two "champions" had lived up to the story, but the last one was still stuck with a fuzzy blob of light.
Ron felt his face burn with embarrassment.
---
The Heads of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Professors McGonagall and Sprout, stood off to the side, watching their students cast spells and chatting happily.
"Gryffindor has some truly outstanding students these past few years!"
"Hufflepuff isn't doing too bad either."
"Harry and Hermione are only third years, right?"
"And isn't Cedric only a fifth year?" McGonagall smiled. "Top grades, Quidditch Captain—he's better than many seventh years. After Percy graduates, Cedric will likely be Head Boy."
"He's more than capable. He's doing an excellent job as a prefect," Professor Sprout beamed. "Just like his Patronus, the gray goose—he can fly high alone, but he also looks after the flock."
"Harry's Patronus is exactly what I expected—inherited from James, a stag."
McGonagall mused, "And Hermione's otter... perhaps because while it looks cute, it's tough on the inside and highly intelligent."
"Who do you think will be next?"
"Percy is very likely; his Patronus is already taking shape—some kind of bird, I think. Fred and George have plenty of happy memories, and Neville isn't bad either..."
"All Gryffindors. Don't let Filius and Severus hear you say that."
"Just an observation based on performance..."
McGonagall pressed her lips together, a smile in her eyes.
Nearby, Hagrid sighed as he watched the practice. "I've been trying too. Melvin told me there was once a wizard who summoned a Giant as a Patronus. Blimey, if a regular wizard can summon a Giant, there's no reason I can't! Shame I'm a bit thick and didn't get much schooling; haven't had much luck with it."
"Maybe you just need the motivation of a Dementor. Go up front and practice with the kids!" Flitwick urged.
"I am technically a professor..."
"Then ask Melvin to help you with a Boggart after class."
Sprout leaned in, nodding in agreement as she smiled toward Melvin.
---
The Dementor, classified as a XXXXX beast, defies the definition of life in Muggle biology.
It feeds on emotions, has no metabolism, doesn't grow, and doesn't reproduce in any normal sense. It reacts only to the silver light of a Patronus, never ages, is nearly impossible to kill, and has a body that resembles a skeleton draped in rotting robes. With features blurred and a mouth used to suck out souls, it seems to lack independent consciousness, requiring only False Memory Charms or Legilimency to be controlled.
Of the nearly one hundred Dementors stationed here, Melvin only needed to control about half; the rest followed blindly. He wondered how an adult Voldemort managed them.
At this moment, the Dementors were still attacking the students.
Melvin stayed on the periphery, watching quietly.
Dementors were certainly dangerous, but to a wizard who could summon a corporeal Patronus, they were no more threatening than garden gnomes—scary to look at, but unable to do real harm.
These dark creatures had been thoroughly demoted to teaching assistants.
They swarmed in, clashing with the students' formless silver mist, generating cold white fog as they wrestled for dominance, slowly gaining the upper hand over the scattered light.
But just as they reached the students, ready to feast on delicious emotions and souls, three brilliant silver lights would erupt. The stag, the gray goose, and the otter would casually drive them back, starting the struggle all over again.
Through this process, the young wizards' understanding of the Patronus Charm deepened.
The dim sliver of the moon sank into the clouds and vanished. As the night wore on, the incantations came faster, and the silver light grew more solid.
Cedric, Harry, and Hermione stood at the back of the lines, monitoring the distance of the Dementors, occasionally answering questions from classmates, and glancing back at the professors.
The initial excitement gradually settled into calm focus.
They noticed the Dementors' aggression was waning. The white fog was no longer as thick or cold; it was thinning out as some Dementors began to retreat, trying to return to the skies far from Hogwarts.
It was a distance beyond the reach of the students' spells.
"Professor, are you controlling these Dementors?"
Hermione drifted over, her face pale from the cold. With her bushy hair and scarf covering her chin, she looked remarkably like an otter herself.
"They started resisting my orders about half an hour ago."
Melvin enclosed the girl in his warming bubble, instantly thawing her out. "Dementors have short memories, but after being beaten for so long and hurting this much, their instinct is to flee."
"Is tonight's lesson over?" Hermione looked up at him.
The Dementors had taken a beating last term too; the giant serpent Patronus had nearly shredded their cloaks. For months afterward, they had given Hogwarts a wide berth, not even daring to let their fog drift near.
If that was a single heavy blow, tonight was prolonged torture.
The young witch suspected that tonight's "special lesson" was really just an excuse to drive the Dementors away for good.
"Yes, it's almost over."
Melvin patted her shoulder. "Can you do me a favor?"
"Of course, Professor."
"Could you ask Headmaster Dumbledore to come over? He's by the school gate."
"Shouldn't the professor go to the Headmaster?"
Hermione was puzzled, but she buried her chin in her scarf and trotted toward the gate.
Although Dumbledore was kind and full of odd jokes, he still carried the authority of a Headmaster. Usually, professors went to him, or he summoned them. It was rare for it to be the other way around.
But this was Hogwarts; "strange" was normal.
Hermione didn't overthink it. Her head numb from the cold wind, she buried her face in her scarf, hands in her pockets, and soon reached Dumbledore. He had no airs about him; after hearing her message, he walked back with her.
Returning to Professor Levent, Hermione paused.
The professor stood in the snow, hands in his trench coat pockets. At some point, a black suitcase had appeared beside him—the same one she had seen on the shelf in his office.
"That wasn't there a minute ago..." Hermione eyed the professor's pocket suspiciously.
"Melvin, are we starting?" Dumbledore smiled.
Melvin nodded. "It's nearly midnight."
Hermione followed the two professors to the front of the lines. Ahead of them, the sluggish swarm of Dementors was stuck in a mire of silver light.
Crunching footsteps approached—the other professors were joining them. Only Hagrid stayed back, hiding near Harry and draping an arm around his shoulders to ask about spellcasting techniques in a hushed voice.
"It is nearly midnight. Tonight's lesson ends here. Now, for the final demonstration," Professor Flitwick announced to the students.
Melvin waved at Hermione and the other two champions, signaling them to come forward.
Harry walked up, looking a bit dazed.
"Professor... is there something you need us to do?" Cedric asked.
Melvin pointed to the sky over Hogsmeade. Some Dementors were gathering there, the cold white fog shrouding the Hog's Head sign like a burial cloth, leaking a crimson glow.
"That is the Dementors' base. Dumbledore and I will lead the way. You three will assist Professor McGonagall and the others in blocking their escape. Drive the Dementors down the path toward the ground and gather them at the entrance to Hogsmeade village..."
The plan was simple, the instructions clear.
Hermione couldn't help but stare at the suitcase by the professor's feet. It was a wizard-made case of black leather—though what animal it came from was unclear—and an incredible suspicion began to form in her mind.
"But our spells can't reach that far," Harry said, looking lost.
"That is because your conviction isn't strong enough. You must believe in your magic. Before tonight, you didn't believe you could summon a Patronus. And now?"
Melvin picked up the suitcase. The sides were etched with the twisting patterns of alchemical arrays and obscure runes, and the handle bore a filigree design—the logo of the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley.
Melvin noticed the witch looking at the case. "I bought this custom case over the summer. The owner expanded the interior specifically for me; it's quite spacious."
He stepped forward. "Coordinate your movements with the professors' Patronuses. Focus. We are moving these 'teaching assistants' into their new home."
Percy stood at the front of the Gryffindor line, thinking about the tip Harry had just whispered to Hagrid.
He felt ashamed. He was a seventh-year student, yet his progress with the spell was behind the third years. He didn't understand why; the techniques were in his head, but something was missing.
Graduation was in June. All his classes were in their final review stages. He wanted to master this spell—the last one he would learn at Hogwarts.
"Just a little bit more, just a tiny bit."
George was muttering nearby. "Maybe we need more Cheering Charms. Let's cast Rictusempra on each other, Fred..."
Percy turned to look at his brothers. He opened his mouth but didn't know what to say. The twins had already started; trying to hold back their laughter while keeping quiet made their identical faces twist grotesquely.
Can you really summon a Patronus like that?
Professor Flitwick finished speaking. The Headmaster stood at the front of the lines, surrounded by the professors. He raised his wand, his beard and robes swaying in the wind, looking as though he was gathering the full power of an ancient wizard.
His incantation was whispered, yet everyone heard it. Even the Dementors high above seemed to look down.
Everyone saw the brilliant silver light erupt, bathing the old Headmaster in its glow.
"Expecto Patronum!"
The winter air seemed to vibrate. The cold was driven away by an invisible warmth, and the world fell silent. The silver light didn't look like light—it looked like fire.
Silver flames unfurled in mid-air, outlining a pair of massive wings.
Each feather was forged from flowing moonlight, edged with burning platinum fire. As the Phoenix fully materialized, there was no sound, yet a clear, long cry echoed in everyone's heart.
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