Harry Potter is a curious sort. Most days, he's happy to coast along, taking things as they come. But put him in the right kind of high-stakes atmosphere, and suddenly his resolve hardens like steel. He'll throw everything he's got into it.
Take school, for instance. He's notorious for dodging homework during term, but the second he's back at the Dursleys' for the holidays, he's sneaking around, desperate to get his assignments done. You'd never see someone so eager.
As Professor Lockhart once put it, "Harry thrives in tense, thrilling environments."
And now, in the Duelling Club, it's no different. While the other young witches and wizards practice spells to fend off a basilisk, Harry squeezes in Patronus Charm practice during breaks. He's really into it—especially because Professor Snape is always there, sneering at him.
Harry doesn't see it that way, though. He misses the days when Lockhart guided their lessons. Looking back, those times feel like a golden era compared to Snape's reign. That greasy git swooped in and stole Lockhart's class—how rotten is that?
But Lockhart, eavesdropping on Snape's "guidance," notices something. Sure, Snape's tone is sharp enough to cut glass, and his insults about Harry's "foolish Potter bloodline" sting. But tucked between the venom are nuggets of precise advice, pointing out exactly what Harry's doing wrong.
It's just too bad Snape's barbs push Harry way past his comfort zone. The poor kid can't hear a word of the actual help.
Lockhart, though? He's soaking it all up.
Jot it down, jot it down!
Learned something new!
Still, as a teacher, Lockhart can't just stand by grinning while Snape's insults veer into personal territory, mocking Harry's heritage or scoffing at a second-year daring to attempt the Patronus Charm. If Harry gets too discouraged and starts flopping like he does in Potions, that's no good for anyone.
"Alright, everyone, let's pause for a moment," Lockhart calls, clapping his hands to quiet the room. He draws his wand and taps the wall behind him.
A gnarled tree branch sprouts a white root that slithers across the wall, weaving into words: Professor Lockhart's Christmas Adventure. At the end, a delicate twig blooms into a bud, swells, and bursts into a pinkish-blue flower the size of a grown man's head.
The kids gasp at the display—so magical, so effortless.
"For the Halloween break, I'm planning a thrilling little adventure," Lockhart announces, beaming at their reactions. "Any young witch or wizard who wants to join can sign up with me. There's just one requirement: you need to successfully cast the Patronus Charm!"
Harry's eyes light up with excitement, only to dim at the mention of the Patronus Charm. He'd love to go adventuring with Lockhart. That trip to Urquhart Castle was the most unforgettable, joyful moment of his magical life.
"Oh, Harry, don't lose heart! You've got half a month to practice," Lockhart says encouragingly, waving an arm to cheer him on. Then he turns to Snape. "My apologies, Professor Snape, but I have a different view on whether a second-year can master the Patronus Charm."
He glances at the students, his gaze lingering on Ginny and Luna. "I believe even a first-year could learn it!"
This ties back to a lesson he gave at Hogwarts. Wand in hand, he strolls among the students. "Sometimes, we're amazed to find it's not the wizard who masters the magic—it's the magic that chooses the wizard."
"So how do we get magic to choose us?" he asks. "Simple: create the state that magic loves most. Adjust your mindset, your actions. As I always say, 'Step into the romance of a fairy tale, and magic will bloom naturally.'"
He flicks his wand, striking the perfect pose for the Patronus Charm. "The Patronus Charm is the iconic spell against dark magic. It demands a heart open to joy and beauty."
Tapping Draco's shoulder lightly, he continues, "If you focus on dark magic, trying to make it stronger, you have to let your heart grow crueler. The crueler you are, the more powerful it becomes. Over time, with experience, slipping into that malicious mindset gets easier, and your dark magic grows terrifyingly strong."
"But don't get cocky," he warns. "That's when the real danger creeps in—your heart gets twisted by that cruelty."
"So what do we do?" Lockhart asks, grinning at the attentive students. "We fight that corruption. We need a heart full of beauty to counter it, and that's the foundation of the Patronus Charm."
He looks earnestly at this group of Hogwarts' brightest young minds. "I hope you truly hear what I'm saying. You can study dark magic academically—even something as silly as the Slug-Vomiting Charm counts. But if you can't summon the malice it requires, you'll lose your edge in many spellcasting fields."
"But you must learn to resist the pull of dark magic, to keep it from swallowing your will." He gestures broadly. "Dark magic and the Patronus Charm are two sides of the same coin. Both require you to enter a unique state of mind—malice for one, beauty for the other. It's not a fleeting thought; it's a constant state of your soul."
He taps the wall again, and the roots twist into the words Patronus Charm. "Few ancient spells have survived the ages, but this one has. It's so valuable that it's never faded from wizarding tradition. It doesn't just fend off external darkness—it protects your heart from internal darkness too."
Snape, standing silently to the side, lips pursed, knows this better than most. Unlike other Death Eaters, he's held onto a heart capable of feeling beauty, unconsumed by malice.
Lockhart presses on. "I don't entirely agree with how society labels dark wizards. Let me be blunt: if we're talking sheer skill with dark magic, Dumbledore is among the most powerful in the world."
A few students gasp, but Lockhart nods, pleased to see some aren't shocked—they're starting to get it.
"But Dumbledore is not a dark wizard," he clarifies. "A dark wizard is someone whose soul has been corrupted by dark magic, whose heart has been devoured by malice. That's my standard."
He points to the words on the wall. "That's why, even in the Wizengamot courts across the world, a wizard who can cast a Patronus is rarely deemed a dark wizard. It's proof of a heart still capable of good."
"Now, back to our earlier question: Can a first-year learn the Patronus Charm? My answer is yes! As long as your heart can feel beauty, how could you not cast it? The only difference is the strength of your magic."
"And how do you make it stronger?" He holds up two fingers. "Two stages. First, get your Patronus to take shape—some kind of animal. That means the beauty in your heart is real, tangible, and within reach."
"The trick? Follow your heart's joy. Let it guide your actions, your will, your emotions—everything. That's when the Patronus Charm truly chooses you."
"Stage two," he says, smiling at Ron and the Weasley twins, "is when your Patronus comes alive. I heard from a friend at the Ministry that your dad, Arthur Weasley, has a Patronus that can speak and deliver messages across great distances."
Ron and his brothers exchange stunned looks—Dad can do that?
"At this stage, it's not just about finding beauty," Lockhart says, glancing at Snape, who's deep in thought. "It's about living in beauty. Your whole life becomes a fairy tale, where every moment sparkles with wonder."
"That's no easy feat," he admits. "It takes a lifetime of wisdom." He turns to the students. "So, tell me—what would it look like to reach that state?"
Ginny's hand shoots up. With Lockhart's nod, she blushes under Harry's gaze but speaks boldly. "Dark forces would struggle to touch our souls!"
She's thrilled—not just to show off in front of Harry, but because Lockhart's words have sparked a solution to a problem she's been wrestling with.
"Perfect!" Lockhart laughs, clapping his hands. "A perfect answer!"
Tom, go get a headache!
(End of Chapter)