Chapter 12 The Patronus

As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage. Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Harry and Ron supposed she had taken refuge in the library and didn’t try to persuade her to come back. All in all, they were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again. Wood sought Harry out on the night before term started. â€Å"Had a good Christmas?† he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, â€Å"I’ve been, doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After last match, you know. If the Dementors come to the next one†¦I mean†¦we can’t afford you to — well –â€Å" Wood broke off, looking awkward. â€Å"I’m working on it,† said Harry quickly. â€Å"Professor Lupin said he’d train me to ward off the Dementors. We should be starting this week. He said he’d have time after Christmas.† â€Å"Ah,† said Wood, his expression clearing. â€Å"Well, in that case — I really didn’t want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?† â€Å"No,† said Harry. â€Å"What! You’d better get a move on, you know — you can’t ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!† â€Å"He got a Firebolt for Christmas,† said Ron. â€Å"A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A — a real Firebolt?† â€Å"Don’t get excited, Oliver,† said Harry gloomily. â€Å"I haven’t got it anymore. It was confiscated.† And he explained all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes. â€Å"Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?† â€Å"Sirius Black,† Harry said wearily. â€Å"He’s supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent it.† Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after his Seeker, Wood said, â€Å"But Black couldn’t have bought a Firebolt! He’s on the run! The whole country’s on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?† â€Å"I know,† said Harry, â€Å"but McGonagall still wants to strip it down –â€Å" Wood went pale. â€Å"I’ll go and talk to her, Harry,† he promised. â€Å"I’ll make her see reason†¦A Firebolt†¦a real Firebolt, on our team †¦She wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do†¦I’ll make her see sense. A Firebolt†¦.† 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 their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life line she had ever seen. It was Defense Against the Dark Arts that Harry was keen to get to; after his conversation with Wood, he wanted to get started on his anti-Dementor lessons as soon as possible. â€Å"Ah yes,† said Lupin, when Harry reminded him of his promise at the end of class. â€Å"Let me see†¦how about eight o’clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough†¦I’ll have to think carefully about how we’re going to do this†¦We can’t bring a real Dementor into the castle to practice on†¦.† â€Å"Still looks ill, doesn’t he?† said Ron as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. â€Å"What d’you reckon’s the matter with him?† There was a loud and impatient â€Å"tuh† from behind them. 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. â€Å"And what are you tutting at us for?† said Ron irritably. â€Å"Nothing,† said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder. â€Å"Yes, you were,† said Ron. â€Å"I said I wonder what’s wrong with Lupin, and you –â€Å" â€Å"Well, isn’t it obvious?† said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority. â€Å"If you don’t want to tell us, don’t,† snapped Ron. â€Å"Fine,† said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off. â€Å"She doesn’t know,† said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. â€Å"She’s just trying to get us to talk to her again.† At eight o’clock on Thursday evening, Harry left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when he arrived, but he lit the lamps with his wand and had waited only five minutes when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binn’s desk. â€Å"What’s that?† said Harry. â€Å"Another Boggart,† said Lupin, stripping off his cloak. â€Å"I’ve been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch’s filing cabinet. It’s the nearest we’ll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we’ll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we’re not using him; there’s a cupboard under my desk he’ll like.† â€Å"Okay,† said Harry, trying to sound as though he wasn’t apprehensive at all and merely glad that Lupin had found such a good substitute for a real Dementor. â€Å"So†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Professor Lupin had taken out his own wand, and indicated that Harry should do the same. â€Å"The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry — well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm.† â€Å"How does it work?† said Harry nervously. â€Å"Well, when it works correctly, It conjures up a Patronus,† said Lupin, â€Å"which is a kind of anti-Dementor — a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the Dementor.† Harry had a sudden vision of himself crouching behind a Hagrid-sized figure holding a large club. Professor Lupin continued, â€Å"The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can’t hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it.† â€Å"What does a Patronus look like?† said Harry curiously. â€Å"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it.† â€Å"And how do you conjure it?† â€Å"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory.† Harry cast his mind about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing that had happened to him at the Dursleys’ was going to do. Finally, he settled on the moment when he had first ridden a broomstick. â€Å"Right,† he said, trying to recall as exactly as possible the wonderful, soaring sensation of his stomach. â€Å"The incantation is this –† Lupin cleared his throat. â€Å"Expecto patronum!† â€Å"Expecto patronum,† Harry repeated under his breath, â€Å"expecto patronum.† â€Å"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?† â€Å"Oh — yeah –† said Harry, quickly forcing his thoughts back to that first broom ride. â€Å"Expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum† Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas. â€Å"Did you see that?† said Harry excitedly. â€Å"Something happened!† â€Å"Very good,† said Lupin, smiling. â€Å"Right, then — ready to try it on a Dementor?† â€Å"Yes,† Harry said, gripping his wand very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. He tried to keep his mind on flying, but something else kept intruding†¦Any second now, he might hear his mother again†¦but he shouldn’t think that, or he would hear her again, and he didn’t want to†¦or did he? Lupin grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled. A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him — â€Å"Expecto patronum!† Harry yelled. â€Å"Expecto patronum! Expecto –â€Å" But the classroom and the Dementor were dissolving†¦Harry was falling again through thick white fog, and his mother’s voice was louder than ever, echoing inside his head — â€Å"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please — I’ll do anything –â€Å" â€Å"Stand aside — stand aside, girl –â€Å" â€Å"Harry!† Harry jerked back to life. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again. He didn’t have to ask what had happened. â€Å"Sorry,† he muttered, sitting up and feeling cold sweat trickling down behind his glasses. â€Å"Are you all right?† said Lupin. â€Å"Yes†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry pulled himself up on one of the desks and leaned against it. â€Å"Here –† Lupin handed him a Chocolate Frog. â€Å"Eat this before we try again. I didn’t expect you to do it your first time; in fact, I would have been astounded if you had.† â€Å"It’s getting worse,† Harry muttered, biting off the Frog’s head. â€Å"I could hear her louder that time — and him — Voldemort –â€Å" Lupin looked paler than usual. â€Å"Harry, if you don’t want to continue, I will more than understand –â€Å" â€Å"I do!† said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. â€Å"I’ve got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can’t afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we’ve lost the Quidditch Cup!† â€Å"All right then†¦Ã¢â‚¬  said Lupin. â€Å"You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on†¦That one doesn’t seem to have been strong enough†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry thought hard and decided his feelings when Gryffindor had won the House Championship last year had definitely qualified as very happy. He gripped his wand tightly again and took up his position in the middle of the classroom. â€Å"Ready?† said Lupin, gripping the box lid. â€Å"Ready,† said Harry; trying hard to fill his head with happy thoughts about Gryffindor winning, and not dark thoughts about what was going to happen when the box opened. â€Å"Go!† said Lupin, pulling off the lid. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Dementor glided forward, drawing its breath; one rotting hand was extending toward Harry — â€Å"Expecto patronum!† Harry yelled. â€Å"Expecto patronum! Expecto Pat –â€Å" White fog obscured his senses†¦big, blurred shapes were moving around him†¦then came a new voice, a man’s voice, shouting, panicking — â€Å"Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off –â€Å" The sounds of someone stumbling from a room — a door bursting open — a cackle of high- pitched laughter — â€Å"Harry! Harry†¦wake up†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Lupin was tapping Harry hard on the face. This time it was a minute before Harry understood why he was lying on a dusty classroom floor. â€Å"I heard my dad,† Harry mumbled. â€Å"That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn’t see. â€Å"You heard James?† said Lupin in a strange voice. â€Å"Yeah†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Face dry, Harry looked up. â€Å"Why — you didn’t know my dad, did you?† â€Å"I — I did, as a matter of fact,† said Lupin. â€Å"We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry — perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced†¦I shouldn’t have suggested putting you through this†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"No!† said Harry. He got up again. â€Å"I’ll have one more go! I’m not thinking of happy enough things, that’s what it is†¦hang on†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory†¦one that he could turn into a good, strong Patronus†¦. The moment when he’d first found out he was a wizard, and would be leaving the Dursleys for Hogwarts! If that wasn’t a happy memory, he didn’t know what was†¦Concentrating very hard on how he had felt when he’d realized he’d be leaving Privet Drive, Harry got to his feet and faced the packing case once more. â€Å"Ready?† said Lupin, who looked as though he were doing this against his better judgment. â€Å"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 — â€Å"EXPECTO PATRONUM!† Harry bellowed. â€Å"EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!† The screaming inside Harry’s head had started again — except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio — softer and louder and softer again†¦and he could still see the Dementor†¦it had halted†¦and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry’s wand, to hover between him and the Dementor, and though Harry’s legs felt like water, he was still on his feet — though for how much longer, he wasn’t sure†¦ â€Å"Riddikulus!† roared Lupin, springing forward. There was a loud crack, and Harry’s cloudy Patronus vanished along with the Dementor; he sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if he’d just run a mile, and felt his legs shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor Lupin forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb again. â€Å"Excellent!† Lupin said, striding over to where Harry sat. â€Å"Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!† â€Å"Can we have another go? Just one more go?† â€Å"Not now,† said Lupin firmly. â€Å"You’ve had enough for one night. Here –â€Å" He handed Harry a large bar of Honeydukes’ best chocolate. â€Å"Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?† â€Å"Okay,† said Harry. He took a bite of the chocolate and watched Lupin extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Dementor. A thought had just occurred to him. â€Å"Professor Lupin?† he said. â€Å"If you knew my dad, you must’ve known Sirius Black as well.† Lupin turned very quickly. â€Å"What gives you that idea?† he said sharply. â€Å"Nothing — I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Lupin’s face relaxed. â€Å"Yes, I knew him,† he said shortly. â€Å"Or I thought I did. You’d better be off, Harry, it’s getting late.† Harry left the classroom, walking along the corridor and around a corner, then took a detour behind a suit of armor and sank down on its plinth to finish his chocolate, wishing he hadn’t mentioned Black, as Lupin was obviously not keen on the subject. Then Harry’s thoughts wandered back to his mother and father †¦ He felt drained and strangely empty, even though he was so full of chocolate. Terrible though it was to hear his parents’ last moments replayed inside his head, these were the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he’d never be able to produce a proper Patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again †¦ â€Å"They’re dead,† he told himself sternly. â€Å"They’re dead and listening to echoes of them won’t bring them back. You’d better get a grip on yourself if you want that Quidditch Cup.† He stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into his mouth, and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Lupin’s anti-Dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, Harry had just one night a week to do all his homework. Even so, he was not showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted. â€Å"How’s she doing it?† Ron muttered to Harry one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. Harry looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books. â€Å"Doing what?† â€Å"Getting to all her classes!† Ron said. â€Å"I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday’s lesson, but Hermione can’t’ve been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she’s never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she’s never missed one of them either!† Harry didn’t have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione’s impossible schedule at the moment; he really needed to get on with Snape’s essay. Two seconds later, however, he was interrupted again, this time by Wood. â€Å"Bad news, Harry. I’ve just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She — er — got a bit shirty with me. Told me I’d got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn’t care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first.† Wood shook his head in disbelief. â€Å"Honestly, the way she was yelling at me†¦you’d think I’d said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall’s severe voice. â€Å"As long as necessary, Wood†Ã¢â‚¬ ¦I reckon it’s time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There’s an order form at the back of Which Broomstick†¦you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy’s got.† â€Å"I’m not buying anything Malfoy thinks is good,† said Harry flatly. January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn’t ordered a new broom. He was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Ron standing hopefully at his shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted. â€Å"No, Potter, you can’t have it back yet,† Professor McGonagall told him the twelfth time this happened, before he’d even opened his mouth. â€Å"We’ve checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we’ve finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me.† To make matters even worse, Harry’s anti-Dementor lessons were not going nearly as well as he had hoped. Several sessions on, he was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Dementor approached him, but his Patronus was too feeble to drive the Dementor away. All it did was hover, like a semitransparent cloud, draining Harry of energy as he fought to keep it there. Harry felt angry with himself, guilty about his secret desire to hear his parents’ voices again. â€Å"You’re expecting too much of yourself,† said Professor Lupin, sternly in their fourth week of practice. â€Å"For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren’t passing out anymore, are you?† â€Å"I thought a Patronus would — charge the Dementors down or something,† said Harry dispiritedly. â€Å"Make them disappear –â€Å" â€Å"The true Patronus does do that,† said Lupin. â€Å"But you’ve achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, You will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground.† â€Å"You said it’s harder if there are loads of them,† said Harry. â€Å"I have complete confidence in you,† said Lupin, smiling. â€Å"Here — you’ve earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks. You won’t have tried it before –â€Å" He pulled two bottles out of his briefcase. â€Å"Butterbeer!† said Harry, without thinking. â€Å"Yeah, I like that stuff!† Lupin raised an eyebrow. â€Å"Oh — Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade,† Harry lied quickly. â€Å"I see,† said Lupin, though he still looked slightly suspicious. â€Å"Well — let’s drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I’m supposed to take sides, as a teacher†¦Ã¢â‚¬  he added hastily. They drank the butterbeer in silence, until Harry voiced something he’d been wondering for a while. â€Å"What’s under a Dementor’s hood?† Professor Lupin lowered his bottle thoughtfully. â€Å"Hmmm †¦ well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor lowers its hood only to use its last and worst weapon.† â€Å"What’s that?† â€Å"They call it the Dementor’s Kiss,† said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. â€Å"It’s what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and — and suck out his soul.† Harry accidentally spat out a bit of butterbeer. â€Å"What — they kill –?† â€Å"Oh no,† said Lupin. â€Å"Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you’ll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no†¦anything. There’s no chance at all of recovery. You’ll just exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever†¦lost.† Lupin drank a little more butterbeer, then said, â€Å"It’s the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him.† Harry sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then he thought of Black. â€Å"He deserves it,† he said suddenly. â€Å"You think so?† said Lupin lightly. â€Å"Do you really think anyone deserves that?† â€Å"Yes,† said Harry defiantly. â€Å"For†¦for some things†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He would have liked to have told Lupin about the conversation he’d overheard about Black in the Three Broomsticks, about Black betraying his mother and father, but it would have involved revealing that he’d gone to Hogsmeade without permission, and he knew Lupin wouldn’t be very impressed by that. So he finished his butterbeer, thanked Lupin, and left the History of Magic classroom. Harry half wished that he hadn’t asked what was under a Dementor’s hood, the answer had been so horrible, and he was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that he walked headlong into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs. â€Å"Do watch where you’re going, Potter!† â€Å"Sorry, Professor –â€Å" â€Å"I’ve just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room, Well, here it is, we’ve done everything we could think of, and there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it at all — you’ve got a very good friend somewhere, Potter†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry’s jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever. â€Å"I can have it back?† Harry said weakly. â€Å"Seriously?† â€Å"Seriously,† said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. â€Å"I daresay you’ll need to get the feel of it before Saturday’s match, won’t you? And Potter — do try and win, won’t you? Or we’ll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Speechless, Harry carried the Firebolt back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower. As he turned a corner, he saw Ron dashing toward him, grinning from ear to ear. â€Å"She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?† â€Å"Yeah†¦anything†¦Ã¢â‚¬  said Harry, his heart lighter than it had been in a month. â€Å"You know what — we should make up with Hermione†¦She was only trying to help†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Yeah, all right,† said Ron. â€Å"She’s in the common room now working — for a change.† They turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville Longbottom, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance. â€Å"I wrote them down!† Neville was saying tearfully. â€Å"But I must’ve dropped them somewhere!† â€Å"A likely tale!† roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harry and Ron: â€Å"Good even, my fine young yeomen! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!† â€Å"Oh, shut up,† said Ron as he and Harry drew level with Neville. â€Å"I’ve lost the passwords!† Neville told them miserably. â€Å"I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don’t know what I’ve done with them!† â€Å"Oddsbodkins,† said Harry to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let them into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry was surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt. â€Å"Where’d you get it, Harry?† â€Å"Will you let me have a go?† â€Å"Have you ridden it yet, Harry?† â€Å"Ravenclaw’ll have no chance, they’re all on Cleansweep Sevens!† â€Å"Can I just hold it, Harry?† After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was Passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Harry and Ron had a clear view of Hermione, the only person who hadn’t rushed over to them, bent over her work and carefully avoiding their eyes. Harry and Ron approached her table and at last, she looked up. â€Å"I got it back,† said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt. â€Å"See, Hermione? There wasn’t anything wrong with it!† said Ron. â€Å"Well — there might have been!† said Hermione. â€Å"I mean, at least you know now that it’s safe!† â€Å"Yeah, I suppose so,† said Harry. â€Å"I’d better put it upstairs.† â€Å"I’ll take it!† said Ron eagerly. â€Å"I’ve got to give Scabbers his rat tonic.† He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys’ staircase. â€Å"Can I sit down, then?† Harry asked Hermione. â€Å"I suppose so,† said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair. Harry looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay (‘Explain Why Muggles Need Electricity’) and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over. â€Å"How are you getting through all this stuff?† Harry asked her. â€Å"Oh, well — you know — working hard,† said Hermione. Close-up, Harry saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin. â€Å"Why don’t you just drop a couple of subjects?† Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary. â€Å"I couldn’t do that!† said Hermione, looking scandalized. â€Å"Arithmancy looks terrible,† said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart. â€Å"Oh no, it’s wonderful!† said Hermione earnestly. â€Å"It’s my favorite subject! It’s –â€Å" But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, Harry never found out. At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys’ staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder — and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet. â€Å"LOOK!† he bellowed, striding over to Hermione’s table. â€Å"LOOK!† he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face. â€Å"Ron, what –?† â€Å"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!† Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Harry looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like — â€Å"BLOOD!† Ron yelled into the stunned silence. â€Å"HE’S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?† â€Å"N — no,† said Hermione in a trembling voice. Ron threw something down onto Hermione’s rune translation. Hermione and Harry leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs. Chapter 12 The Patronus As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage. Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Harry and Ron supposed she had taken refuge in the library and didn’t try to persuade her to come back. All in all, they were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again. Wood sought Harry out on the night before term started. â€Å"Had a good Christmas?† he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, â€Å"I’ve been, doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After last match, you know. If the Dementors come to the next one†¦I mean†¦we can’t afford you to — well –â€Å" Wood broke off, looking awkward. â€Å"I’m working on it,† said Harry quickly. â€Å"Professor Lupin said he’d train me to ward off the Dementors. We should be starting this week. He said he’d have time after Christmas.† â€Å"Ah,† said Wood, his expression clearing. â€Å"Well, in that case — I really didn’t want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?† â€Å"No,† said Harry. â€Å"What! You’d better get a move on, you know — you can’t ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!† â€Å"He got a Firebolt for Christmas,† said Ron. â€Å"A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A — a real Firebolt?† â€Å"Don’t get excited, Oliver,† said Harry gloomily. â€Å"I haven’t got it anymore. It was confiscated.† And he explained all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes. â€Å"Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?† â€Å"Sirius Black,† Harry said wearily. â€Å"He’s supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent it.† Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after his Seeker, Wood said, â€Å"But Black couldn’t have bought a Firebolt! He’s on the run! The whole country’s on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?† â€Å"I know,† said Harry, â€Å"but McGonagall still wants to strip it down –â€Å" Wood went pale. â€Å"I’ll go and talk to her, Harry,† he promised. â€Å"I’ll make her see reason†¦A Firebolt†¦a real Firebolt, on our team †¦She wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do†¦I’ll make her see sense. A Firebolt†¦.† 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 their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life line she had ever seen. It was Defense Against the Dark Arts that Harry was keen to get to; after his conversation with Wood, he wanted to get started on his anti-Dementor lessons as soon as possible. â€Å"Ah yes,† said Lupin, when Harry reminded him of his promise at the end of class. â€Å"Let me see†¦how about eight o’clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough†¦I’ll have to think carefully about how we’re going to do this†¦We can’t bring a real Dementor into the castle to practice on†¦.† â€Å"Still looks ill, doesn’t he?† said Ron as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. â€Å"What d’you reckon’s the matter with him?† There was a loud and impatient â€Å"tuh† from behind them. 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. â€Å"And what are you tutting at us for?† said Ron irritably. â€Å"Nothing,† said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder. â€Å"Yes, you were,† said Ron. â€Å"I said I wonder what’s wrong with Lupin, and you –â€Å" â€Å"Well, isn’t it obvious?† said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority. â€Å"If you don’t want to tell us, don’t,† snapped Ron. â€Å"Fine,† said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off. â€Å"She doesn’t know,† said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. â€Å"She’s just trying to get us to talk to her again.† At eight o’clock on Thursday evening, Harry left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when he arrived, but he lit the lamps with his wand and had waited only five minutes when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binn’s desk. â€Å"What’s that?† said Harry. â€Å"Another Boggart,† said Lupin, stripping off his cloak. â€Å"I’ve been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch’s filing cabinet. It’s the nearest we’ll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we’ll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we’re not using him; there’s a cupboard under my desk he’ll like.† â€Å"Okay,† said Harry, trying to sound as though he wasn’t apprehensive at all and merely glad that Lupin had found such a good substitute for a real Dementor. â€Å"So†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Professor Lupin had taken out his own wand, and indicated that Harry should do the same. â€Å"The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry — well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm.† â€Å"How does it work?† said Harry nervously. â€Å"Well, when it works correctly, It conjures up a Patronus,† said Lupin, â€Å"which is a kind of anti-Dementor — a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the Dementor.† Harry had a sudden vision of himself crouching behind a Hagrid-sized figure holding a large club. Professor Lupin continued, â€Å"The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can’t hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it.† â€Å"What does a Patronus look like?† said Harry curiously. â€Å"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it.† â€Å"And how do you conjure it?† â€Å"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory.† Harry cast his mind about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing that had happened to him at the Dursleys’ was going to do. Finally, he settled on the moment when he had first ridden a broomstick. â€Å"Right,† he said, trying to recall as exactly as possible the wonderful, soaring sensation of his stomach. â€Å"The incantation is this –† Lupin cleared his throat. â€Å"Expecto patronum!† â€Å"Expecto patronum,† Harry repeated under his breath, â€Å"expecto patronum.† â€Å"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?† â€Å"Oh — yeah –† said Harry, quickly forcing his thoughts back to that first broom ride. â€Å"Expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum† Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas. â€Å"Did you see that?† said Harry excitedly. â€Å"Something happened!† â€Å"Very good,† said Lupin, smiling. â€Å"Right, then — ready to try it on a Dementor?† â€Å"Yes,† Harry said, gripping his wand very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. He tried to keep his mind on flying, but something else kept intruding†¦Any second now, he might hear his mother again†¦but he shouldn’t think that, or he would hear her again, and he didn’t want to†¦or did he? Lupin grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled. A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him — â€Å"Expecto patronum!† Harry yelled. â€Å"Expecto patronum! Expecto –â€Å" But the classroom and the Dementor were dissolving†¦Harry was falling again through thick white fog, and his mother’s voice was louder than ever, echoing inside his head — â€Å"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please — I’ll do anything –â€Å" â€Å"Stand aside — stand aside, girl –â€Å" â€Å"Harry!† Harry jerked back to life. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again. He didn’t have to ask what had happened. â€Å"Sorry,† he muttered, sitting up and feeling cold sweat trickling down behind his glasses. â€Å"Are you all right?† said Lupin. â€Å"Yes†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry pulled himself up on one of the desks and leaned against it. â€Å"Here –† Lupin handed him a Chocolate Frog. â€Å"Eat this before we try again. I didn’t expect you to do it your first time; in fact, I would have been astounded if you had.† â€Å"It’s getting worse,† Harry muttered, biting off the Frog’s head. â€Å"I could hear her louder that time — and him — Voldemort –â€Å" Lupin looked paler than usual. â€Å"Harry, if you don’t want to continue, I will more than understand –â€Å" â€Å"I do!† said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. â€Å"I’ve got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can’t afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we’ve lost the Quidditch Cup!† â€Å"All right then†¦Ã¢â‚¬  said Lupin. â€Å"You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on†¦That one doesn’t seem to have been strong enough†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry thought hard and decided his feelings when Gryffindor had won the House Championship last year had definitely qualified as very happy. He gripped his wand tightly again and took up his position in the middle of the classroom. â€Å"Ready?† said Lupin, gripping the box lid. â€Å"Ready,† said Harry; trying hard to fill his head with happy thoughts about Gryffindor winning, and not dark thoughts about what was going to happen when the box opened. â€Å"Go!† said Lupin, pulling off the lid. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Dementor glided forward, drawing its breath; one rotting hand was extending toward Harry — â€Å"Expecto patronum!† Harry yelled. â€Å"Expecto patronum! Expecto Pat –â€Å" White fog obscured his senses†¦big, blurred shapes were moving around him†¦then came a new voice, a man’s voice, shouting, panicking — â€Å"Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off –â€Å" The sounds of someone stumbling from a room — a door bursting open — a cackle of high- pitched laughter — â€Å"Harry! Harry†¦wake up†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Lupin was tapping Harry hard on the face. This time it was a minute before Harry understood why he was lying on a dusty classroom floor. â€Å"I heard my dad,† Harry mumbled. â€Å"That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn’t see. â€Å"You heard James?† said Lupin in a strange voice. â€Å"Yeah†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Face dry, Harry looked up. â€Å"Why — you didn’t know my dad, did you?† â€Å"I — I did, as a matter of fact,† said Lupin. â€Å"We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry — perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced†¦I shouldn’t have suggested putting you through this†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"No!† said Harry. He got up again. â€Å"I’ll have one more go! I’m not thinking of happy enough things, that’s what it is†¦hang on†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory†¦one that he could turn into a good, strong Patronus†¦. The moment when he’d first found out he was a wizard, and would be leaving the Dursleys for Hogwarts! If that wasn’t a happy memory, he didn’t know what was†¦Concentrating very hard on how he had felt when he’d realized he’d be leaving Privet Drive, Harry got to his feet and faced the packing case once more. â€Å"Ready?† said Lupin, who looked as though he were doing this against his better judgment. â€Å"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 — â€Å"EXPECTO PATRONUM!† Harry bellowed. â€Å"EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!† The screaming inside Harry’s head had started again — except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio — softer and louder and softer again†¦and he could still see the Dementor†¦it had halted†¦and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry’s wand, to hover between him and the Dementor, and though Harry’s legs felt like water, he was still on his feet — though for how much longer, he wasn’t sure†¦ â€Å"Riddikulus!† roared Lupin, springing forward. There was a loud crack, and Harry’s cloudy Patronus vanished along with the Dementor; he sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if he’d just run a mile, and felt his legs shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor Lupin forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb again. â€Å"Excellent!† Lupin said, striding over to where Harry sat. â€Å"Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!† â€Å"Can we have another go? Just one more go?† â€Å"Not now,† said Lupin firmly. â€Å"You’ve had enough for one night. Here –â€Å" He handed Harry a large bar of Honeydukes’ best chocolate. â€Å"Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?† â€Å"Okay,† said Harry. He took a bite of the chocolate and watched Lupin extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Dementor. A thought had just occurred to him. â€Å"Professor Lupin?† he said. â€Å"If you knew my dad, you must’ve known Sirius Black as well.† Lupin turned very quickly. â€Å"What gives you that idea?† he said sharply. â€Å"Nothing — I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Lupin’s face relaxed. â€Å"Yes, I knew him,† he said shortly. â€Å"Or I thought I did. You’d better be off, Harry, it’s getting late.† Harry left the classroom, walking along the corridor and around a corner, then took a detour behind a suit of armor and sank down on its plinth to finish his chocolate, wishing he hadn’t mentioned Black, as Lupin was obviously not keen on the subject. Then Harry’s thoughts wandered back to his mother and father †¦ He felt drained and strangely empty, even though he was so full of chocolate. Terrible though it was to hear his parents’ last moments replayed inside his head, these were the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he’d never be able to produce a proper Patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again †¦ â€Å"They’re dead,† he told himself sternly. â€Å"They’re dead and listening to echoes of them won’t bring them back. You’d better get a grip on yourself if you want that Quidditch Cup.† He stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into his mouth, and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Lupin’s anti-Dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, Harry had just one night a week to do all his homework. Even so, he was not showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted. â€Å"How’s she doing it?† Ron muttered to Harry one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. Harry looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books. â€Å"Doing what?† â€Å"Getting to all her classes!† Ron said. â€Å"I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday’s lesson, but Hermione can’t’ve been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she’s never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she’s never missed one of them either!† Harry didn’t have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione’s impossible schedule at the moment; he really needed to get on with Snape’s essay. Two seconds later, however, he was interrupted again, this time by Wood. â€Å"Bad news, Harry. I’ve just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She — er — got a bit shirty with me. Told me I’d got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn’t care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first.† Wood shook his head in disbelief. â€Å"Honestly, the way she was yelling at me†¦you’d think I’d said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall’s severe voice. â€Å"As long as necessary, Wood†Ã¢â‚¬ ¦I reckon it’s time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There’s an order form at the back of Which Broomstick†¦you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy’s got.† â€Å"I’m not buying anything Malfoy thinks is good,† said Harry flatly. January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn’t ordered a new broom. He was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Ron standing hopefully at his shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted. â€Å"No, Potter, you can’t have it back yet,† Professor McGonagall told him the twelfth time this happened, before he’d even opened his mouth. â€Å"We’ve checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we’ve finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me.† To make matters even worse, Harry’s anti-Dementor lessons were not going nearly as well as he had hoped. Several sessions on, he was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Dementor approached him, but his Patronus was too feeble to drive the Dementor away. All it did was hover, like a semitransparent cloud, draining Harry of energy as he fought to keep it there. Harry felt angry with himself, guilty about his secret desire to hear his parents’ voices again. â€Å"You’re expecting too much of yourself,† said Professor Lupin, sternly in their fourth week of practice. â€Å"For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren’t passing out anymore, are you?† â€Å"I thought a Patronus would — charge the Dementors down or something,† said Harry dispiritedly. â€Å"Make them disappear –â€Å" â€Å"The true Patronus does do that,† said Lupin. â€Å"But you’ve achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, You will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground.† â€Å"You said it’s harder if there are loads of them,† said Harry. â€Å"I have complete confidence in you,† said Lupin, smiling. â€Å"Here — you’ve earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks. You won’t have tried it before –â€Å" He pulled two bottles out of his briefcase. â€Å"Butterbeer!† said Harry, without thinking. â€Å"Yeah, I like that stuff!† Lupin raised an eyebrow. â€Å"Oh — Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade,† Harry lied quickly. â€Å"I see,† said Lupin, though he still looked slightly suspicious. â€Å"Well — let’s drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I’m supposed to take sides, as a teacher†¦Ã¢â‚¬  he added hastily. They drank the butterbeer in silence, until Harry voiced something he’d been wondering for a while. â€Å"What’s under a Dementor’s hood?† Professor Lupin lowered his bottle thoughtfully. â€Å"Hmmm †¦ well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor lowers its hood only to use its last and worst weapon.† â€Å"What’s that?† â€Å"They call it the Dementor’s Kiss,† said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. â€Å"It’s what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and — and suck out his soul.† Harry accidentally spat out a bit of butterbeer. â€Å"What — they kill –?† â€Å"Oh no,† said Lupin. â€Å"Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you’ll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no†¦anything. There’s no chance at all of recovery. You’ll just exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever†¦lost.† Lupin drank a little more butterbeer, then said, â€Å"It’s the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him.† Harry sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then he thought of Black. â€Å"He deserves it,† he said suddenly. â€Å"You think so?† said Lupin lightly. â€Å"Do you really think anyone deserves that?† â€Å"Yes,† said Harry defiantly. â€Å"For†¦for some things†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He would have liked to have told Lupin about the conversation he’d overheard about Black in the Three Broomsticks, about Black betraying his mother and father, but it would have involved revealing that he’d gone to Hogsmeade without permission, and he knew Lupin wouldn’t be very impressed by that. So he finished his butterbeer, thanked Lupin, and left the History of Magic classroom. Harry half wished that he hadn’t asked what was under a Dementor’s hood, the answer had been so horrible, and he was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that he walked headlong into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs. â€Å"Do watch where you’re going, Potter!† â€Å"Sorry, Professor –â€Å" â€Å"I’ve just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room, Well, here it is, we’ve done everything we could think of, and there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it at all — you’ve got a very good friend somewhere, Potter†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry’s jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever. â€Å"I can have it back?† Harry said weakly. â€Å"Seriously?† â€Å"Seriously,† said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. â€Å"I daresay you’ll need to get the feel of it before Saturday’s match, won’t you? And Potter — do try and win, won’t you? Or we’ll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Speechless, Harry carried the Firebolt back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower. As he turned a corner, he saw Ron dashing toward him, grinning from ear to ear. â€Å"She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?† â€Å"Yeah†¦anything†¦Ã¢â‚¬  said Harry, his heart lighter than it had been in a month. â€Å"You know what — we should make up with Hermione†¦She was only trying to help†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Yeah, all right,† said Ron. â€Å"She’s in the common room now working — for a change.† They turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville Longbottom, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance. â€Å"I wrote them down!† Neville was saying tearfully. â€Å"But I must’ve dropped them somewhere!† â€Å"A likely tale!† roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harry and Ron: â€Å"Good even, my fine young yeomen! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!† â€Å"Oh, shut up,† said Ron as he and Harry drew level with Neville. â€Å"I’ve lost the passwords!† Neville told them miserably. â€Å"I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don’t know what I’ve done with them!† â€Å"Oddsbodkins,† said Harry to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let them into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry was surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt. â€Å"Where’d you get it, Harry?† â€Å"Will you let me have a go?† â€Å"Have you ridden it yet, Harry?† â€Å"Ravenclaw’ll have no chance, they’re all on Cleansweep Sevens!† â€Å"Can I just hold it, Harry?† After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was Passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Harry and Ron had a clear view of Hermione, the only person who hadn’t rushed over to them, bent over her work and carefully avoiding their eyes. Harry and Ron approached her table and at last, she looked up. â€Å"I got it back,† said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt. â€Å"See, Hermione? There wasn’t anything wrong with it!† said Ron. â€Å"Well — there might have been!† said Hermione. â€Å"I mean, at least you know now that it’s safe!† â€Å"Yeah, I suppose so,† said Harry. â€Å"I’d better put it upstairs.† â€Å"I’ll take it!† said Ron eagerly. â€Å"I’ve got to give Scabbers his rat tonic.† He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys’ staircase. â€Å"Can I sit down, then?† Harry asked Hermione. â€Å"I suppose so,† said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair. Harry looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay (‘Explain Why Muggles Need Electricity’) and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over. â€Å"How are you getting through all this stuff?† Harry asked her. â€Å"Oh, well — you know — working hard,† said Hermione. Close-up, Harry saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin. â€Å"Why don’t you just drop a couple of subjects?† Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary. â€Å"I couldn’t do that!† said Hermione, looking scandalized. â€Å"Arithmancy looks terrible,† said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart. â€Å"Oh no, it’s wonderful!† said Hermione earnestly. â€Å"It’s my favorite subject! It’s –â€Å" But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, Harry never found out. At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys’ staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder — and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet. â€Å"LOOK!† he bellowed, striding over to Hermione’s table. â€Å"LOOK!† he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face. â€Å"Ron, what –?† â€Å"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!† Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Harry looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like — â€Å"BLOOD!† Ron yelled into the stunned silence. â€Å"HE’S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?† â€Å"N — no,† said Hermione in a trembling voice. Ron threw something down onto Hermione’s rune translation. Hermione and Harry leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.

Part II Dream vs. Reality Get Rich Quick Schemes Essay

Part II Dream vs. Reality Get Rich Quick Schemes - Essay Example No matter what is said or done by advocates or opponents of gambling in all its various forms, it is an activity that is practiced, or tacitly endorsed, by a substantially majority of Americans." This statement, as have been proposals for legalization, has been ignored. These proposals have been rejected and, to data, casino gambling is only legal in a handful of states. Legal prohibitions against gambling have contributed to the emergence of an underground, illegal gambling sector which is not only flourishing but, continually expanding. Estimates place the total gambles illegally wagered over the past year at $48 billion. Apart from this meaning that states are losing an important, and major, source of revenues, there is a more disturbing implication. Within the parameters of an underground, black market gambling industry, the activity is unsupervised with the consequence being the participation of underage youth and the proliferation of no limits' gambling which both sustains gambling addictions and often leads to financial ruin. Through the legalization of gambling, implying the movement of an underground activity to the open, not only will states benefit from a wealthy source of revenue but the supervision of the activity by law enforcement will lead to stricter adherence to both age and ga

Internship Question Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1250 words

Internship Question - Essay Example There are numerous brands of GIS software employed in GEOINT and cyber security, namely; Google Earth, ERDAS IMAGINE, GeoNetwork open source and Esri ArcGIS. This essay focuses on the Geographic Information System capabilities of current cyber security products. In the middle of a developing awareness that the geospatial facet of IT framework can play a vital role in protecting systems and networks, several companies are creating contributions that integrate those two facets. The rational mapping of cyber-framework has been regarded a good exercise for securing and controlling data and network assets for momentarily. This sort of mapping displays how assets are integrated in cyberspace and how information is transferred from one location on the network to the other without esteem to their physical closeness. Furthermore, a geospatial facet to network mapping may appear redundant at first, because the security highlighting in past few years has been to adopt layers of software (Trendmicro, 1). Geospatial technology can be implemented anywhere in cyberspace from a central control setup. Comprehending the coming together of cyber security and geospatial intelligence starts with the fact that not all attacks to IT infrastructure happen in cyberspace. Deeds of damage or combat or natural calamities can have an effect on wide-ranging systems and networks. Understanding where these are happening in the geographical world allows companies to repair them and work around bleached infrastructure constituents until they are repaired. It also facilitates companies to implement geographical 2fences to cyber-assets (Buxbaum, 1). Apart from that, integrating cyber security with geospatial enables a much more complex comprehension of systems and their attacks and liabilities than the rational mapping. Identifying the geospatial site of the source of a threat can give hints about who are the perpetrators of

Nationalism Essay -- Patriotism Pride Essays

Nationalism I'm sure everyone remembers the Gulf War a few years ago. This war lasted for several months and drew everyone to the television and to newspapers to find out what was happening now to all the Americans over seas. Many people found their loved ones leaving. They were in the military and were called to defend their country. This is a sign of nationalism in itself, however, something that was closer to home for me was a tiny yellow ribbon. These yellow ribbons were seen everywhere. They were placed on tree trunks, on peoples front doors, pinned on to peoples clothing, and displayed on peoples cars. These yellow ribbons were a sign to let those people in the Gulf know they were loved and missed and that we were praying for their safe return. This is nationalism. We had all those people over in the Gulf in our thoughts even those we did not know. Nationalism or patriotism can be defined as a sense of belonging or a sense of pride to one's nation among a group of people. Nationalism includes feeling of loyalty to their nation, pride and a desire for independence. Nationalism can be experienced under a state which is a political unit that has essential elements such as people, land, government or independence or among a nation which is people sharing a common identity such as the Palestinians and the old Soviet Union. Nationalism has many different aspects to it, common bonds, and different symbols to represent it. Nationalism has not always existed. Years ago loyalty was to a tribe or ruler. Since then, the idea of loyalty has switched and the focus is now on a broader picture. There are four common bonds to nationalism. The first common bond is common territory. You tend to feel a close bond with people fr... ...and Ghana. The British went into India, the gem of Asia, and dominated their markets. The British took from the Indians and sold their goods for more money. The last consequence of nationalism are Wars of National Liberation. These wars have gone on for many years, and have caused many people to loose their lives for their country. The bonds of nationalism may, in fact, "bond" us together as a nation. The symbols of nationalism may allow us to occasionally think of nationalism. We may be able to think of the consequences, but we may not feel that these consequences are very important or ever occur. The fact is that all of these consequences, symbols, and bonds, reflect who we are as people. People die to defend other people of their nation. They fight to keep us safe and united. We need to keep things such as yellow ribbons and think about what we are all about.

Nationalism Essay -- Patriotism Pride Essays

Nationalism I'm sure everyone remembers the Gulf War a few years ago. This war lasted for several months and drew everyone to the television and to newspapers to find out what was happening now to all the Americans over seas. Many people found their loved ones leaving. They were in the military and were called to defend their country. This is a sign of nationalism in itself, however, something that was closer to home for me was a tiny yellow ribbon. These yellow ribbons were seen everywhere. They were placed on tree trunks, on peoples front doors, pinned on to peoples clothing, and displayed on peoples cars. These yellow ribbons were a sign to let those people in the Gulf know they were loved and missed and that we were praying for their safe return. This is nationalism. We had all those people over in the Gulf in our thoughts even those we did not know. Nationalism or patriotism can be defined as a sense of belonging or a sense of pride to one's nation among a group of people. Nationalism includes feeling of loyalty to their nation, pride and a desire for independence. Nationalism can be experienced under a state which is a political unit that has essential elements such as people, land, government or independence or among a nation which is people sharing a common identity such as the Palestinians and the old Soviet Union. Nationalism has many different aspects to it, common bonds, and different symbols to represent it. Nationalism has not always existed. Years ago loyalty was to a tribe or ruler. Since then, the idea of loyalty has switched and the focus is now on a broader picture. There are four common bonds to nationalism. The first common bond is common territory. You tend to feel a close bond with people fr... ...and Ghana. The British went into India, the gem of Asia, and dominated their markets. The British took from the Indians and sold their goods for more money. The last consequence of nationalism are Wars of National Liberation. These wars have gone on for many years, and have caused many people to loose their lives for their country. The bonds of nationalism may, in fact, "bond" us together as a nation. The symbols of nationalism may allow us to occasionally think of nationalism. We may be able to think of the consequences, but we may not feel that these consequences are very important or ever occur. The fact is that all of these consequences, symbols, and bonds, reflect who we are as people. People die to defend other people of their nation. They fight to keep us safe and united. We need to keep things such as yellow ribbons and think about what we are all about.

Nationalism Essay -- Patriotism Pride Essays

Nationalism I'm sure everyone remembers the Gulf War a few years ago. This war lasted for several months and drew everyone to the television and to newspapers to find out what was happening now to all the Americans over seas. Many people found their loved ones leaving. They were in the military and were called to defend their country. This is a sign of nationalism in itself, however, something that was closer to home for me was a tiny yellow ribbon. These yellow ribbons were seen everywhere. They were placed on tree trunks, on peoples front doors, pinned on to peoples clothing, and displayed on peoples cars. These yellow ribbons were a sign to let those people in the Gulf know they were loved and missed and that we were praying for their safe return. This is nationalism. We had all those people over in the Gulf in our thoughts even those we did not know. Nationalism or patriotism can be defined as a sense of belonging or a sense of pride to one's nation among a group of people. Nationalism includes feeling of loyalty to their nation, pride and a desire for independence. Nationalism can be experienced under a state which is a political unit that has essential elements such as people, land, government or independence or among a nation which is people sharing a common identity such as the Palestinians and the old Soviet Union. Nationalism has many different aspects to it, common bonds, and different symbols to represent it. Nationalism has not always existed. Years ago loyalty was to a tribe or ruler. Since then, the idea of loyalty has switched and the focus is now on a broader picture. There are four common bonds to nationalism. The first common bond is common territory. You tend to feel a close bond with people fr... ...and Ghana. The British went into India, the gem of Asia, and dominated their markets. The British took from the Indians and sold their goods for more money. The last consequence of nationalism are Wars of National Liberation. These wars have gone on for many years, and have caused many people to loose their lives for their country. The bonds of nationalism may, in fact, "bond" us together as a nation. The symbols of nationalism may allow us to occasionally think of nationalism. We may be able to think of the consequences, but we may not feel that these consequences are very important or ever occur. The fact is that all of these consequences, symbols, and bonds, reflect who we are as people. People die to defend other people of their nation. They fight to keep us safe and united. We need to keep things such as yellow ribbons and think about what we are all about.

The King and His Role in Ancient Egypt

Janelle Richardson Professor Ogden Goelet Ancient Egyptian Religion First Paper 4/8/13 The King and his role During the times of the Ancient Egyptians there were many beliefs that the Egyptians stood by, one of which being the ideal of polytheism. The Egyptians live in a spiritual free reign. Although they tend to follow the beliefs of the community that they lived in and around, they were for the most part free to worship and practice whatever they may with whatever God they felt right.Another belief the Egyptians held onto was the belief in kingship and order, â€Å"Maat†. The construct of Kingship during the times of the Ancient Egyptians was crucial to the unification of the Egyptian people. Through his associations with the Gods he was expected to keep the order or rather ma’at of the land, which was inhabited by the Egyptian people. The king was responsible for keeping the peace and amongst the people and the land both figuratively and literally. The king was task ed with protecting the people from potential attacks from foreign lands.But perhaps most importantly the King served as the median between the people and the Gods. They were therefore expected to make offerings to Gods that would suffice to their needs as deities, pleasing them and placing the king and thus his kingdom, his land and his people in good favor with the Gods. This was crucial because this meant that the Gods have blessed the land that the Egyptians harvest on assuring lasted nourishment, the king had to feed his people, and if he alone managed to please the Gods on behalf of him and his people he was able to accomplish just that.But we can’t forget the idea that when the people are happy the king is secure. All of the positive exchanges between the Gods and king were important in securing a pharaoh’s kingship and ultimately giving them the opportunity to create and secure a dynasty for a longer period of time. This is an important idea when discussing the topic of the development of Religion in State. Equal to the construct of kingship, religion and ritual were a vital part of the Egyptian culture, thus a vital part in their unity, especially during times of tribal strife and war.Also key in the formation of religion is the Egyptian’s obsession over death, which could leave a dark air about the culture as whole, but the idea of an after-life, life after death was brought to the Egyptians through the image of Gods. The Egyptians created a world of polytheistic ideals and rituals that reflected their beliefs â€Å"Egyptians believed dated back to the time when gods ruled on earth, and by the â€Å"law† laid down by the King, their son and earthly representative. † (Cerny 35).So being that the relationship that the Egyptian people had with the Gods and their importance in the limiting of chaos in their world the ideal of the King’s divinity was key for the survival of society and perhaps the sanity of society as well. â€Å"Egypt was the first large â€Å"nation state,† with a culture virtually restricted to that state, and thus was very self-contained†¦ in which kingship was an unquestioned presupposition of social order—indeed order was hardly conceivable without it. † (Baines, 2).The King’s responsibilities stretched as far as the prevention of the collapse of their Egyptian state. Of course it was important to every Egyptian to be responsible for themselves and do their duties unto the land as the Gods may have it and they praised and celebrated and communed because of these rituals and these practices. But in these times, even if an Egyptian works as hard as he can consistently to please the Gods on his own if the king falls short of his duty as the Divine middleman, the Egyptian’s harvest may not bloom crops sufficient enough to feed themselves of their families.The King as a Divine Creature Although out of the archives and data that has bee n collected over the past decades about Ancient Egyptian, the evidence that shows the King as being an actual divine being of the Gods, usually an incarnation of a particular God or sometimes a mosh of multiple Gods the King was scene by the people as divine and a direct creation of the Gods, therefore the only person with the ability to be in communication with the God. The sun-god we are told elsewhere had appointed hum ‘to be shepherd of this land, to keep the people alive†¦in theory he was the officiant in every temple in the land†¦and every religious ceremony and ritual was in a sense a royal ritual. † (Fairman 1958, 76). The Egyptians also believed the Kings, if they weren’t to fail and disgrace themselves in the eyes of the Gods, received a different treatment after death.The afterlife of a king wasn’t thought to be the same as one of an Egyptian civilian, rather the Egyptian people believed that after the death of the kings cross over to t he worlds of the divine, some believe that they become Osiris in the afterlife. The king This idea is seen in many of the art pieces made by the Egyptians that referenced kings after their deaths and their relationship to the Gods, or in a lot of cases a particular God (For example: The God Horus).Whole tombs at the highest level of grandiosity and tribute were made for kings after their deaths. Many rituals were had for the kings before and after their passing including the kings initial coronation which involve d the ‘selection of the new Sacred Falcon, which was effected by Horus by means of an oracle†¦special hymns were sung, one greeting the New Year†¦ and the second being concerned with ensuring the protection of the Sacred Falcon’ (Fairman 1958, 80).It was believed that the spirit of Horus enters the king at the coronation and guides the king along the path of maat. Then when the king died his spirit was merged with Osiris ‘from where he could gui de his successors’. The King was key in the lives of the Egyptians. The King had a foot in both worlds, the secular and the spiritual, or rather the sacred, which were treated as one in the same thing by the Egyptians, at all times. The King was the religious leader and the law book simultaneously.The Kings was seen as a representation/manifestation of God in a flesh and completely mortal carcass that served the God King for as long as they are to rule until their time to go and take part in their after-life begins â€Å"The king, it is true, interprets the evidence, translating radiation and motion in terms of religious meaning, answering them by cultic action and speaking to a God who expresses himself in a strictly ‘heliomorphic’ way† (Assman 1989, 68). Even the Pharaohs ritual vestments were designed to show his power.The symbols of the gods were the king’s tools of office. The crook, to reward the innocent, the flail, to punish the guilty, show ing his authority to rule the two-lands, and the Ureaus Cobra or Eye of Ra seeing all that the Pharaoh did, good or evil. (Humphries). The Kings was responsible for keeping order or Ma’at , the rule of order over the chaos that the Egyptians thought was waiting to sheath the world, at any moment without the guidance of the Gods and the usefulness of the King.The focus was on balance, the people; the Egyptians themselves were inclined to honor the God’s along with the King by living a life of obedience and balance so that they can rest assured that all will be well, they have pleased the Gods and they shall not be punished for any wrong doing. The king’s notional strength came from the support of the gods and as long as this was maintained no ill could befall the country.There is little denying that the Egyptians didn’t believe that their kings weren’t in part Gods themselves as represented by most of their art and writings. But this system that the Egyptians became so accustomed to held the potential to cause problems for the king. The key to life lived in balance is Maat but once this was lost, however, the kingdom was thrown into turmoil until a new strong king, who had the support of the gods, took the throne. The Kings and the Egyptians found out that the Gods aren’t always pleased.The Integration of the Church and State and the Problems that it caused the King The Pharaoh was seen as the emissary of the gods and life was good as long as the religious rites were performed and maat was maintained, but what happened when maat wasn’t contained? What problems arose for the king then, when something hasn’t lined up with divine order? Though I stress the importance of the king in Ancient Egypt, we can’t forget that not everything always went so smoothly for the Egyptians and those who ruled over them.Perhaps one of the most obvious drawbacks to being a king endowed with such divine responsibility is if and when the Gods were not perceived to be happy whether specifically at the king’s actions or the actions of his people, the state of the king’s position in his kingdom comes into question and under fire. These occurrences however, might have helped balance out the Egyptians belief of the God like ways of being for the king. The King is mortal and fallible, after all, the king is still human.This ideal is showcased in a lot of the literary texts of the New Kingdom, â€Å"Many different types of human frailties and weaknesses characterize all the figures in†¦The Contendings of Horus and Seth† (Wente 1972c, 108-126 [translation]; and Lichtheim 1976, 214-223 [translation]), â€Å"The gods were anthropomorphized from an early period in ancient Egypt’s history (Hornung 1982a, 105-107), and their portrayal both in figures and in text clearly is humanized. They have family problems. They bicker. They display moods (Silverman 1995, 53-54).In other words they’re human, just as they were and were witnessed to be in life outside of their association with the Gods. Conclusion Was the king divine? It’s obvious now that the Egyptians without a doubt believed in the divinity of their king, some might even say that that belief was necessary for the survival of the Egyptians I would say that by definition and according to what most of society today thinks of to be ‘divine’, the answer is yes and no, the king wasn’t actually divine in the sense that he possessed magical powers that directly affected those around him and his people, or in the sense that the king was actually just God.But in accordance to what I believe as a member or today’s society and from what I know of the Ancient Egyptians and their beliefs, I think that the king was divine, but I believe that by the same nature of the king being divine, so was every other Egyptian that lived during the time. Now this is simply my opinion and lin es up directly with my personal beliefs in God, but in a less personal explanation, the presence and usefulness of the King in relationship to the Egyptian people and the order of the Egyptian world, served as a very sturdy backbone in the Egyptian society.Footnotes: The silence of the god who expresses himself visually is balanced by the ‘voice’ of the king which plays such an important part in the inscriptions. The king is the ‘speaking god’, spreading truth (Maat) upon earth as the Aten Spreads light and life. Sources and Bibliography Assmann, J. , â€Å"The Name Formula,† in The Search for God in Ancient Egypt, D. Lorton, trans. (Ithaca, NY 2001) 83-110. Bell, Dr. Lanny. â€Å"Montclair State University. †Ã‚  Divine Kingship in Ancient Egypt -Mythology and Iconography. N. p. n. d. Web. 08 Apr. 2013. . Cited for information on Horus Cerny, J. ,, â€Å"Egyptian Oracles,† Chap. 6 in R. A. Parker, A Saite Oracle Papyrus from Thebes (Pro vidence 1962) 35-48 Dunn, Jimmy. â€Å"King Ramesses I, Founder of the 19th Dynasty. †Ã‚  King Ramesses I, Founder of the 19th Dynasty. Tour Egypt, n. d. Web. 08 Apr. 2013. . Fairman, H. W. â€Å"The Kingship Rituals of Egypt,† in Myth, Ritual and King ship: Essays on Theory and Practice of Kingship, S. H. Hooke (Oxford 1958) 74-104 Hornung, E. , â€Å"The Pharaoh,† Chap. 10 in S. Donadoni, ed. , The Egyptians (Chicago and London 1997) 283-314. Hornung, E. , â€Å"History as Celebration,† Chap. 8 in Idea into Image (New York 1992) 147-164. Humphries, Ken. â€Å"Egypt: Was Pharaoh Divine. †Ã‚  Egypt: Was Pharaoh Divine. N. p. , n. d. Web. 08 Apr. 2013. Used as a study source Silverman, D. P. , â€Å"The Nature of Egyptian Kingship,† in Chap. 2 in D.O’Connor and D. P. Silverman, eds. , Ancient Egyptian Kingship. Probleme der Agyptologie 9 (Leiden 1995) 49-92. Lichtheim, M. â€Å"Stela of Sehetep-ib-re,† Ancient Egyptian Literatur e I (Berkeley 1975) 125-129. Teeter, Emily. â€Å"Festivals. †Ã‚  Religion and Ritual in Ancient Egypt. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2011. 56-75. Print. Wente, Edward F. , and Robert A. Oden. Response to Robert A. Oden's â€Å"‘The Contendings of Horus and Seth' (Chester Beatty Papyrus No. 1): A Structural Interpretation†Ã‚  Chicago: University of Chicago, 1979. 105-07. Print.