"What did you go running to Snape for?"

Hermione was pink in the face,but stood up and faced  me defiantly. 

"Because I thought — and Professor McGonagall  and Snape agree withme — that that flute was probably sent to you by Sirius Black!" 

I knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didn'tstop me from being angry with her. I had been theowner of a flute which helps me read minds, maybe the only in the world for a few short hours, andnow, because of her interference, I didn't know whether I wouldever see it again. O was positive that there was nothing wrongwith the Flute now, but what sort of state would it be in once ithad been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests?

"Go on" said Hermione "hate me. Harry and Ron are already doing it. You might as well."

I hesitated. I was angry yes, but I knew that an object would never amount to a person. "I-I- don't hate you." I said "I'm mad. But I understand."

"Really?"

"Really."

Hermione threw her arms around me, squeezing me. "Oh, thank you!" she said.

"No problem" I chocked

We were glad when therest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Slytherin Common Room became crowded and noisy again.  

I told nicholas, Zoe and Draco about the flute. They scoffed but I saw some notes written at the -back; C-A-A-D-F-F-E-F#-A

Classes started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for our enjoyment, and we spent an unusually good lesson collecting drywood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-lovinglizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. 

. It was Defense Against the Dark Arts that I was keen to getto; I wanted to get started on our anti-dementor lessons as soon as possible. 

"Ah yes," said Lupin, when Harry reminded him of his promiseat the end of class. "Let me see . . . how about eight o'clock onThursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should belarge enough. . . . I'll have to think carefully about how we're goingto do this. . . . We can't bring a real dementor into the castle topractice on. . . ." 

"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" said Ron as we walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?" I had to alternate between, Draco, Zoe and Nicholas, Ron and Harry and Hermione.

 There was a loud and impatient "tuh" from behind us. It was Hermione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armor,repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close. 

"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably. 

"Nothing," said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag backover her shoulder.

 "Yes, you were," said Ron. "I said I wonder what's wrong withLupin, and you —" 

"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority.  I held my breathe, I had a feeling she made the same connection as me,

"If you don't want to tell us, don't," snapped Ron.

 "Fine," said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off.

 "She doesn't know," said Ron, staring resentfully afterHermione. "She's just trying to get us to talk to her again." 

At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, I left Slytherin Dungeons for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when I arrived, but I lit the lamps with my wand when Harry walked in, and had waited only fiveminutes when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packingcase, which he heaved onto Professor Binns' desk.

 "What's that?" said Harry. 

"Another boggart," said Lupin, stripping off his cloak. "I've beencombing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found thisone lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll getto a real dementor. The boggart will turn into a dementor when hesees you, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in myoffice when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my deskhe'll like." 

"Okay," I said trying to sound as though I wasn't apprehensive at all and merely glad that Lupin had found such a goodsubstitute for a real dementor.

 "So . . ." Professor Lupin had taken out his own wand, and indicated that Harry  and I should do the same. "The spell I am going to tryand teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry and Emma — well beyondOrdinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."

 "How does it work?" I asked

 "Well, when it works correctly, it conjures up a Patronus," saidLupin, "which is a kind of anti-dementor — a guardian that acts asa shield between you and the dementor." 

ThePatronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very thingsthat the dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire tosurvive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you, that the charmmight be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it." 

"What does a Patronus look like?" said Harry curiously.

 "Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it." 

"And how do you conjure it?" I said

 "With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory." 

I cast my mind about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothingthat had happened to me at the Dursleys' was going to do. Finally, I settled on the moment when I had  been sorted into Slytherin.

Right," Harry said,I was trying to recall as exactly as possible the wonderful, soaring sensation of my stomach.

"The incantation is this —" Lupin cleared his throat. "Expectopatronum!" 

"Expecto patronum," Harry repeated under his breath, "expectopatronum." I repeated it in my  mind

"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?"

 "Oh — yeah —" said Harry. I nodded

"Expecto patrono — no, patronum —sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum —" I mumbled

Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of my wand; itlooked like a wisp of silvery gas. Harry's did the same a second later

"Did you see that?" said Harry excitedly. "Something happened!" 

"Very good," said Lupin, smiling. "Right, then — ready to try iton a dementor?" 

"Yes," Harry said, gripping his wand very tightly, and movinginto the middle of the deserted classroom. 

"Emma?"

"Yes" I said joining

I tried to keep hismind on sorting, but something else kept intruding. . . . Any secondnow, I might hear my mother again . . . but I shouldn't think that,or I would hear her again, and I didn't want to . . . or did I? 

Lupin grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled.A dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turnedtoward Harry and me, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. Thelamps around the classroom flickered and went out.

 The dementorstepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry,drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over me —"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled.

 "Expecto patronum! Expecto —" I was trying

 But the classroom and the dementor were dissolving. . . . I was falling again through thick white fog, and my mother's voicewas louder than ever, echoing inside my head — "Not Harry! Not Emma! Please — I'll do anything —" 

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

 "Emma! Harry!"

 I jerked back to life. I was lying flat on my back on thefloor.Harry beside me

 The classroom lamps were alight again. I didn't have to askwhat had happened.

 "Sorry," harry muttered, sitting up and feeling cold sweat tricklingdown behind his glasses.

 "Are both you all right?" said Lupin. 

"Yes . . ." Harry pulled himself up on one of the desks andleaned against it. I grasped the adjacent one.

"Here —" Lupin handed us a Chocolate Frog each. "Eat this beforewe try again. I didn't expect you to do it your first time; in fact, Iwould have been astounded if you had." 

"It's getting worse," Harry muttered, biting off the Frog's head."I could hear her louder that time — and him — Voldemort —"Lupin looked paler than usual. 

"Harry, Emma, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand —" 

"I do!" said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Froginto his mouth. "I've got to! What if the dementors turn up at ourmatch against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we losethis game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!" 

"Emma?" asked Lupin "do you--?"

"I do" I said "I hate something or someone having a control over me. I hate it."

"All right then . . . ," said Lupin. "You might want to selectanother memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrateon. . . . That one doesn't seem to have been strong enough. . . ." 

I thought hard and decided his feelings when Slytherin had tied the House Championship last year had definitely qualified as very happy. I gripped my wand tightly again and took upmy position in the middle of the classroom. 

"Ready?" said Lupin, gripping the box lid. 

"Ready," said Harry. 

"Go!" said Lupin, pulling off the lid. The room went icily coldand dark once more. The dementor glided forward, drawing itsbreath; one rotting hand was extending toward Harry and me—"Expecto patronum!" I yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expectopat —" 

White fog obscured my senses . . . big, blurred shapes were moving around me . . . then came a new voice, a man's voice, shouting, panicking — 

"Lily, take Harry and Emma and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off —" 

The sounds of someone stumbling from a room — a door burstingopen — a cackle of high-pitched laughter — 

"Harry! Emma . . . wake up. . . ."Lupin was tapping me hard on the face. This time it was aminute before I understood why I was lying on a dusty classroom floor. 

"I heard my dad," I mumbled. "That's the first time I'veever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to givemy mum time to run for it. . . ." 

I suddenly realized that there were tears on my face mingling with the sweat. I bent my face as low as possible, wiping them off on my robes, pretending to do up my shoelace, so thatLupin wouldn't see. 

"You heard James?" said Lupin in a strange voice. "Both of you?"

"Yeah . . ." Face dry, I looked up. "Why — you didn'tknow my dad, did you?" 

"I — I did, as a matter of fact," said Lupin. "We were friends atHogwarts. Listen, Harry, Emma— perhaps we should leave it here fortonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced. . . . I shouldn't havesuggested putting you through this. . . ." 

"No!" said Harry. He got up again. I did too

"I'll have one more go! I'mnot thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is. . . . Hangon. . . ." 

I racked my brains. A really, really happy memory . . . one that I could turn into a good, strong Patronus . . .The moment when I'd first found out I was a witch, andwould be leaving the Dursleys for Hogwarts! If that wasn't a happymemory, I didn't know what was. . . . 

Concentrating very hard onhow I had felt when I'd realized we'd be leaving Privet Drive, I got to my feet and faced the packing case once more. 

"Ready?" said Lupin, who looked as though he were doing thisagainst his better judgment. "Concentrating hard? All right — go!" 

He pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark — 

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed. 

"EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!" I yelled.

The screaming inside my head had started again — exceptthis time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tunedradio — softer and louder and softer again — and I could still see the dementor — it had halted — and then a huge, silver shadowcame bursting out of the end of my wand, to hover between meand the dementor, and though my legs felt like water, I was stillon my feet — though for how much longer, I wasn't sure — Distinctically I saw Harry have the same progress.

"Riddikulus!" roared Lupin, springing forward. 

There was a loud crack, and my cloudy Patronus vanishedalong with the dementor; I sank into a chair, feeling as exhaustedas if I'd just run a mile, and felt my legs shaking. Out of the corner of my eye, he saw Professor Lupin forcing the boggart back intothe packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orbagain. 

The moon.

"Excellent!" Lupin said, striding over to where Harry and I sat. "Excellent! That was definitely a start!" 

"Can we have another go? Just one more go?" 

"Not now," said Lupin firmly. "You've had enough for one night.Here —"He handed Harry and me each a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate."Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Sametime next week?" 

"Okay," said Harry. 

I took a bite of the chocolate and watchedLupin extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the dementor. A thought had just occurred to me as Harry was leaving

"Professor Lupin?" I said. "If you knew my dad, you must'veknown Sirius Black as well."Lupin turned very quickly. 

"What gives you that idea?" he said sharply. 

"Nothing — I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwartstoo. . . ."

Lupin's face relaxed."Yes, I knew him," he said shortly. "Or I thought I did. You'dbetter be off, it's getting late." 

I left the classroom, walking along the corridor and arounda corner, then took a detour behind a suit of armor and sank downon its plinth to finish my chocolate, wishing I hadn't mentionedBlack, as Lupin was obviously not keen on the subject. 

Thenmy thoughts wandered back to my mother and father. . . . I felt drained and strangely empty, even though I was so fullof chocolate. 

Terrible though it was to hear my parents' last moments replayed inside my head, these were the only times Ihad heard their voices since I was a very small child. But I'dnever be able to produce a proper Patronus if I half wanted tohear his parents again. . . . 

"They're dead," I told myself sternly. "They're dead and listening to echoes of them won't bring them back. You'd better get agrip on yourself." I stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into my mouth,and headed back to the dungeons