The Speaker and His Wraiths

Practice and Thinking

Harry looked at his little group and clapped his hands together with a smile. "Okay! Welcome to our D.A. Meeting, I have something very special planned for today."

"Is it finally time to move forward with our plans?" Ron asked, raising his hand.

"Not yet, don't get ahead of yourself. That's our next meeting. If we want to take down the Ministry we'll need more time." Harry grinned, "Anyway, for today we'll be practicing the Patronus Charm."

"That's... advanced." Parvati frowned, "How are we going to learn that? We don't have anyone who can cast it, let alone teach us."

"Actually, I can cast one." Harry smiled at her, "I learned from Professor Lupin because I kept passing out around Dementors."

"You could cast a Patronus as a third year?" Davies asked, eyes wide. "Let's get this show on the road, I just gotta know how."

Harry spent a good ten or so minutes demonstrating, showing them the wand movements as well as explaining what kind of happy memory to grasp for while casting. The majority of them seemed to understand, but some of them needed more instruction than others.

Reluctantly, he did admit that the very first Patronus he cast was based on the memory of discovering he was a wizard and would be allowed to escape the Dursleys. He didn't predict the wave of anger from his Wraiths, and he had to move on rather quickly after that.

When casting his Patronus in front of them, he focused on his friends. Memories of Ron and Hermione laughing and smiling, Draco's chants from the Quidditch game and the grin on his face afterwards, Theo's sharp eyes and Luna's wand sitting behind her ear, Heidi's determination and Pansy's grins; all of his friends just existing happily with him was more than enough to power a Patronus.

Of course, even though everyone present had happy memories, casting the Patronus Charm was no easy feat. There was a reason it wasn't taught at Hogwarts, and why it was such a rare magic to know. It was extremely difficult.

Harry had set aside two hours for their practice, of which he'd scheduled to directly clash with both lunch and the class right after lunch. Being five minutes late to class was definitely suspicious. Hermione hadn't been thrilled, but she'd agreed that it was anything but subtle, which was the point.

Aside from the fifteen minutes of break for lunch, the two hours were spent hard at work. Harry walked between the other people in the room and helped them, occasionally correcting pronunciation, wand movement, or even encouraging them to choose a different happy memory and trying again.

Hermione picked it up quickly with Ron right behind her. Her otter and his dog (a terrier?) were chasing each other around the room by the end of the meeting. Harry privately thought their happy memories were of each other, but he didn't voice that and let them just laugh as their wisps of silver and white ran around the room.

Roger and Lisa were a little bit slower because they were attempting to summon their Patronuses on a more technical level than an emotional one; they did both eventually manage at least a small silvery noncorporeal barrier, which Harry praised them for. Lisa swore she saw hooves appear at one point, but there wasn't much more than that.

The two sets of twins were on opposite ends. The Patil twins both sported noncorporeal Patronuses. The Weasleys, however, managed completely corporeal Patronuses, which ended up being a pair of magpies, one for each twin. Harry was impressed with their strategy, which was to cast at the same time in unison while thinking about each other. Apparently it made their Patronuses a lot stronger.

The other Gryffindors all learned how to maintain a solid shield barrier at the very least. Alicia's Patronus was a hummingbird, but Angelina and Lee didn't manage anything corporeal. It frustrated Lee, because the twins got it so easily, but Angelina didn't seem to mind at all. Harry often forgot she was only ever dramatic when it came to Quidditch. Angelina was quite reasonable and understanding about everything else, really.