In the Gryffindor common room, the returning students buzzed with excitement about their day in the West Tower auditorium. They raved about Argus's lessons, sighing more than once that he would have fit perfectly in their house.
Harry, fresh from the infirmary, was locked in a wizard chess match with Ron. The sudden influx of chatter about the day's classes made them both scowl. Ron muttered under his breath.
Harry's mind drifted to his collapse on the Hogwarts Express and the Dementors' assault on the Quidditch pitch. His urge to master the Patronus Charm burned stronger than ever. But asking Argus? The thought twisted his gut. Argus had been the first peer he'd met in the wizarding world, but Hogwarts had soured that innocence with a string of tense encounters. Still, who else could teach him?
Torn, Harry botched his moves, letting Ron capture piece after piece. "Harry, what's eating you?" Ron asked, eyeing him.
"You want to learn the Patronus Charm too, don't you?"
"I... yeah, but..." Harry trailed off, cheeks flushing.
Ron grinned, reading his hesitation perfectly. No jabs—just relief. As long as Harry steered clear of Argus, he remained Ron's steadfast mate. "Why not Professor Lupin? He chased off those Dementors on the train with it!"
"Lupin!" Harry's eyes lit up, though doubt crept in. Lupin hadn't taught in days.
Ron shrugged. "Snape's covering, but everyone's got stuff to handle. We'll check tomorrow—if he's out long-term, Dumbledore would've replaced him by now."
Ron saw the silver lining Harry missed: Lupin was just tied up, nothing dire. "Hey, finished Snape's werewolf essay?"
"Here—yours looks blank."
...
Monday arrived in a blur. Snape droned on for Defense Against the Dark Arts, collecting the werewolf assignments before diving into another grim lecture on lycanthropy. He tossed in a casual mention of Wolfsbane Potion, all while stealing glances at Argus.
The massive homework load sparked groans as class ended—until Lupin returned two days later, promptly scrapping it all. But Snape's material left his smile strained.
...
"I heard about your broom, Harry. I'm sorry." Lupin glanced at the shattered Nimbus. "Any chance of fixing it?"
When Harry broached the Patronus Charm, Lupin agreed without hesitation, though he couldn't replace the broom. As a surrogate uncle who'd failed young Harry before, a lesson felt like the least he could offer. He wasn't McGonagall or Sirius—newly tenured and backing a fugitive, his funds were tight. Even a basic broom was out of reach, let alone the latest model.
"No need," Harry said, shaking his head. "Professor, why do Dementors hit me harder? I feel... worse than the others."
Lupin leaned in, voice steady. "Dementors are the foulest things in our world, Harry. They drain every happy memory, leaving only despair. But yours? It's odd—they shouldn't affect you like this."
"Tell me, Professor." Harry's tone was direct, a far cry from his Snape snarls.
"I recall Slytherin's Headmaster Grindelwald taught the Patronus Charm publicly. Why not ask him?"
Harry had his excuse ready. "I was in the infirmary during his class. If I get the chance, I'll talk to Argus."
"Good lad." Lupin bought it, pleased by Harry's humility. "Truth is, you're no different from the rest. But you've endured horrors they'd never fathom. Fearing that doesn't make you weak—it makes you human. Now, let's get to it. I'm no master, but I can show you the basics."
In the canon tale, this lesson came later, but Argus's open teachings eased Lupin's caution. He drew his wand for a private tutorial.
...
Argus stared at Vinda's letter, fingers drumming the desk—a tic when deep in thought.
"Fudge requests our aid in hunting Sirius. Aurors are stretched thin."
"We need the acolytes' support..."
Helping was low-risk. Sirius's Animagus form made him a ghost in the wind; a careful search would yield nothing but goodwill. It'd polish Argus's image, too.
Fudge had solidified his Minister seat after the pure-blood fallout. Barty Crouch could only counter by allying with Amelia Bones—a precarious balance. Fudge's unchecked power irked, especially with Dementors loose on Hogwarts students. Perfect leverage to rein him in.
This could elevate Allen, too. Voldemort's return loomed at the Triwizard Tournament; Allen needed positioning to supplant Fudge by then. The acolytes had seeded the Ministry well—enough to keep it humming even if Crouch and Bones fell.
Soon... so soon.
Headmaster Dumbledore, enjoy the surprise I've prepared.
---
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