Late at night, Harry and Ron draped the Invisibility Cloak over themselves and headed for the kitchen.
Passing through the Great Hall, they entered the underground corridor.
"Wait, my legs feel weak," Ron said, tugging at Harry's sleeve.
Harry turned back, raising an eyebrow.
"This is too close to Snape's office," Ron said, taking a deep breath. "Let me compose myself."
Ron was terrified of Snape.
Even though he had kept a low profile in Potions class and rarely been reprimanded, the image of Snape spewing venomous insults was enough to scare anyone.
Fortunately, they didn't run into Snape.
The painting of the bowl of fruit was easy to spot. Harry reached out and tickled the pear. It let out a giggle before protruding and transforming into a green doorknob.
Harry turned the knob and stepped inside with Ron.
The room was filled with dozens of house-elves, all busy with their tasks but turning to glance toward the seemingly empty space.
A concealed spell?
"Which little wizard is it?" one of the house-elves asked, sniffing the air and approaching respectfully. "How may Kreau assist you?"
"I need a live cow, put to sleep with a Stunning Spell," Harry said, keeping his voice low and his cloak on.
The magical contract allowed house-elves to recognize Hogwarts students, but Harry had little trust in these creatures.
"Of course, but… that may take some time," Kreau replied, nodding submissively. "Kreau must finish cleaning Hogwarts first. The little wizard's request can be fulfilled by tomorrow night."
"Do not punish yourself," Harry commanded, stopping the elf just as it began to cry and hit itself. "I'll return to collect it at 11 p.m. tomorrow night."
As Harry turned to leave, Ron eagerly asked, "Do you still have any of those lamb chops from dinner?"
"Of course!" Kreau snapped its fingers, producing a plate of lamb chops in an instant. "Are these enough? The kitchen has plenty more."
"More than enough," Ron said cheerfully, grabbing the plate.
Kreau looked overjoyed. "Kreau has pleased the little wizard! Is there anything else the little wizard wishes?"
"Tomorrow morning, prepare me some mushroom soup, a croissant, and a small pat of butter, and deliver it to…" Ron mumbled, his mouth full of lamb chops.
Harry elbowed him lightly.
"…to the Gryffindor table," Ron corrected quickly.
Kreau bowed low. "Everything will be as you wish, little wizard."
They left the kitchen.
On the way back, Ron munched on his food, marveling, "They're amazing! These lamb chops taste as fresh as they did at dinner."
"And yet it was a house-elf intercepting your essay that forced you to rewrite it before term began," Harry said, twisting the knife.
Ron turned a little green. "Thanks for reminding me."
As they reached the common room, Ron asked suddenly, "Harry, can I come with you to the Forbidden Forest tomorrow?"
Harry shook his head.
"I swear I'll stay quiet…" Ron began to promise, the adventurous Gryffindor spirit shining through.
"The location is too close to the Acromantula colony," Harry said softly. "They've been restless. Several times at the end of last term, they almost attacked me."
Spiders—giant spiders.
Ron turned even greener. "Alright, maybe next time, then."
"Of course," Harry replied with a nod.
Thursday.
Second-year Gryffindors could sleep in a little. Their first class, Transfiguration, didn't start until 10 a.m.
Transfiguration was one of the hardest subjects at Hogwarts—likely second only to Defense Against the Dark Arts. The difficulty of the latter came from never having a competent professor, while the former required sharp intellect.
Professor McGonagall began with a review of last term's material: turning a ladybug into a button.
Only Harry and Hermione completed the spell perfectly on their first try.
Ron ran into trouble.
He managed to create a button, but it still had legs that skittered across the table. Frustrated, he had to squash it with a book.
McGonagall, fuming, assigned an eight-inch essay.
At noon, they had time to rest and digest the lesson before bracing themselves for the week's final class: a double session of Potions.
Snape gave them a challenging task—brewing a Skele-Gro potion. The recipe demanded precision, and even the smallest mistake would render it useless.
For Harry and Hermione, it wasn't a problem.
Both completed the potion successfully, one of the few pairs in their class to do so.
"This is barely adequate," Snape said, inspecting Hermione's potion. "Anyone using this would endure two days of excruciating pain before their bones regrew. Gryffindor… one point."
The room fell silent.
Everyone stared at Snape in disbelief.
Wait—did Snape just say what they thought he said?
Snape, meanwhile, picked up Harry's potion, glanced at it with a faint sneer, and set it down quickly, muttering disdainfully before moving on to scold the next student.
After class, Ron kept glancing at Hermione, curiosity written all over his face.
"Hermione, what did you do?" he asked. "Why did Snape give you points?"
"It was only one point," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "And he deducted five from Harry, even though Harry's potion was better."
"Maybe you reminded him of my mum," Harry speculated. "Your preparation techniques are similar."
Hermione didn't respond.
"I need to learn them too," Ron said enviously. "I don't care about the points; I just want Snape to stop yelling at me."
Hermione huffed. "I told you to study over the summer, but you didn't listen. Now look at you."
"Who studies during summer?" Ron grumbled, glancing at Hermione.
She looked defiant—she had spent the entire summer studying.
He turned to Harry, who looked equally unapologetic. Harry had worked even harder, driving Flitwick to exhaustion.
"Wait… are students supposed to study during summer?" Ron asked, sounding genuinely doubtful.
Reflecting on it, he realized that apart from the twins, Percy, Charlie, and Bill had all studied during breaks.
Even the twins read books occasionally.
Could it be that he was the odd one out?
"Study hard, Ron," Harry said earnestly.
"Study hard, Ron," Hermione echoed, equally serious. "How about we try to take the top three spots this year? Professor McGonagall would be thrilled."
Ron groaned, his expression pained. "Fine, I'll try."
"If you get third, I'll take you to the Forbidden Forest," Harry promised.
Ron's eyes lit up. "Really?"
Suddenly, he felt a surge of motivation.
After dinner, Ron buried himself in his textbooks, determined to write his Transfiguration essay without help.
Harry, meanwhile, headed to Snape's office.
It was the first supplementary lesson of the term.
Harry figured that after his trip to the Forbidden Forest, he might as well turn himself in—he couldn't waste such valuable time.
Knocking on the office door, Harry stepped inside.
"Potter," Snape sneered, rising from his chair. "I thought your empty little head might have forgotten about this."
"Actually, I almost did," Harry replied calmly. "But I'm here to ask why you gave Hermione points."
"Has our dear Mr. Potter gone mad?" Snape said, waving his wand to clear the room. "Would you rather see me deduct points from Gryffindor?"
"Enough. I don't want to see your stupid face any longer than necessary. Let's start tonight's lesson."
Snape narrowed his eyes.
"Before you learn Occlumency, you must master the Patronus Charm. Surely even you know what it is?"
Harry nodded. "One of the oldest and most powerful spells, known as a defensive charm."
"Only the most virtuous and strong-willed wizards can cast it," he added, emphasizing certain words.
Snape's eyes narrowed further. "Spare me your theatrics, Potter."
"The incantation is Expecto Patronum," Snape continued coldly. "It requires no complex gestures or rituals. All you need is pure happiness—assuming you have any. If not, think of that little witch of yours."
Harry stared at Snape.
"What are you waiting for?" Snape snapped. "For me to curse you with the Imperius Curse?"
"Won't you demonstrate first?" Harry asked.
Snape's expression didn't change, but his aura became noticeably dangerous.
"Fine," he said icily, raising his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
A stream of silver mist poured from Snape's wand, quickly filling the room before coalescing into a corporeal form. A doe darted around the space before disappearing.
"Did you see that?" Snape hissed.
Harry nodded. "A beautiful doe—
probably a fallow deer?"
Snape aimed his wand at Harry. "Shall I praise your sharp eye and award Gryffindor a hundred points? Now, cast the spell immediately."
"I hope your attempt doesn't look like a troll waving a stick," Snape added venomously.
Harry raised his wand, gripping it tightly.
Happy memories.
He had so many.
Lambert getting scolded by Vesemir for helping him train as a Witcher.
Dancing drunkenly by the lake with his companions.
The female sorceresses, bards, and healers he had met on his journeys.
Returning to this world and talking to his grandparents' portraits that night.
His friends—Hermione, Ron…
Despite the hardships of being a Witcher, Harry had always been surrounded by love.
He took a deep breath and uttered the incantation:
"Expecto Patronum!"
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Powerstones?
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