Patronus
The spring evening weather was just cool enough that Astrid wished she had grabbed a sweater on their way down to the Three Broomsticks. The sun had just set and the sky was darkening fast. 1826 words
Last Updated
04/05/22
Chapters
1
Reads
710
Chapter 1
The spring evening weather was just cool enough that Astrid wished she had grabbed a sweater on their way down to the Three Broomsticks. The sun had just set and the sky was darkening fast.
Bill would glance over at her every so often, occasionally practising his ‘surprised face’ as he did so. She nodded at him to reassure him, though secretly she thought they were all terrible. It was a good thing indeed that Bill didn’t need to lie for a living.
To be fair, it was her and Charlie’s loud whispering that had given away the secret.
It suddenly made her incredibly worried that other times they had whispered could have been overheard. She tried to think if they had whispered anything too embarrassing, but couldn’t remember.
When they reached the Three Broomsticks, he took a moment to gather himself before they waltzed in.
The crowd roared just as she knew they would, Bill tried to look surprised just as she also knew he would, and nobody bought his ‘surprised face,’ just as she was sure they wouldn’t.
And there was Charlie, the ends of his hair falling out of his ponytail and into his face just as she always knew they did.
Astrid barely noticed when the party moved into full swing. Every member of the party seemingly needed to congratulate Bill personally. She heard Mr and Mrs Weasley talking about their other children at some point, who she already knew had apparently disappeared off to Zonko’s. She overheard Charlie, Barnaby, and Liz talking about magical creatures, Jae getting stopped by Rowan from sneaking out somewhere, and Talbott speaking in hushed tones with Chiara.
She was supposed to be happy. She was supposed to feel good. She knew she was. And yet, something in her chest scratched against something else and she found her hand massaging her chest, as though that could knead out the kinks in her heart.
When the feeling didn’t leave her, she felt the panic slowly rise, though she begged it not to, telling it what she knew in her mind, that everything was alright, the curse had been broken, and her friends were alright.
When it continued, she did the only thing she knew how to do when there was nothing to fight.
She ran.
Moving from the party, she smoothly weaved through the crowd until she had reached the door once again. Pushing it open, she used her last ounce of strength to dart out into the street.
The bang of the door clanged behind her and she just managed to breathe a sigh of relief at the fresh smell of a spring evening before loud laughing roared down the lane.
Sprinting to the side of the road, she caught sight of Nymphadora with four younger children, all of them carrying Zonko’s boxes. The shocking red hair on the three boys and young girl was enough to tell Astrid that these were Bill, Charlie, and Percy’s younger siblings.
Tonks and the four kids ducked into the pub and Astrid was both grateful and slightly disappointed somewhere in herself that they hadn’t noticed her.
Finding herself alone in the lane, she saw Hogsmeade dwellers coming down the road towards her.
All she knew was that she didn’t want to be observed by strangers just then.
She took off, darting down the road towards the castle. It was exhausting and she eventually slowed to walking. When it came time to trek up the hill, past Hagrid’s hut and towards the courtyard, she veered into the forest instead.
She knew this part of the forest too well to be afraid and yet a chill rose along her arms. Shoving it aside, she continued to walk, staying always within the realms that she knew beside Hagrid’s hut.
She passed the clearing where they had Care of Magical Creatures and the memory of the first time she had fed a bowtruckle came to her mind, bringing a smile to her lips though the aching in her chest hadn’t gone away.
With the memory of magical creatures came the memory of Charlie, eyes lit up and ginger hair a mess as he gazed at whatever creature Professor Kettleburn was teaching them about that day.
A rustle in the brush behind her sent her spinning around.
A warmth entered her heart, though she would have thought there was no more room past the ache. As if the memory had conjured him up, there came Charlie, walking out of the darkness and into the glade.
She could barely see him, the moon was blocked by the overcast sky, but she could see his kind expression as he approached her.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” he asked. His ginger hair was falling out of his ponytail just as she had seen it in her memory.
“How did you find me?” She asked instead, not answering his question yet.
His expression became sheepish. “I—uh—followed you.”
“You followed me,” she said, the words tasting comforting in her mouth.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “Dora told me she saw you outside the pub. She thought I would be a better help then she would. And when I saw you running, I thought I’d follow along. I was worried. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Well,” he said, “are you—are you alright?”
The words were too much. She pushed them off in the only way she knew how, by physically walking away.
“No,” she huffed, Charlie jogged up to walk beside her, “I’m never alright anymore. I think I am. I know I should be, that everything is alright, that we broke the curse on the vault, that everyone trapped in the portraits is safe, but I’m not alright. I don’t understand it. I think I’m afraid, but no matter how much I tell myself not to be afraid, I still have this.” She stopped, turning to him, and rubbed at her chest again, trailing off.
She raised her gaze from the forest floor to his sad eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Everything is fine,” she said again, “I shouldn’t be feeling this way.”
Charlie shook his head, eventually answering quietly, “I disagree. It’s not a should or shouldn’t.”
She didn’t answer, having any words.
He took a breath, glancing past her, and then his eyes met hers again, “Can I show you something?”
His face was so pure, so good, with just the right amount of hope and compassion in his eyes that all she could think to say was, “yes.”
He smiled, walking off and she was grateful that he hadn’t taken her hand. She walked just a step behind and beside him as he moved to the edge of the wood.
They were on the shore of the Black Lake. The waters sweeping out before them.
“Okay,” he said, facing the lake.
She followed his lead. The sky was not so overcast here and she could make out stars between the cloud cover.
“Are you ready?” he asked, glancing back at her.
She nodded.
Charlie turned and she only caught sight of the edge of a grin before he uttered his spell.
“Expecto Patronum!”
A flash of light. A beam of blue. And then starlight exploded in the sky above them.
But, not starlight.
For as her eyes adjusted, she could see the stars twinkling behind the massive patronus that Charlie had conjured.
She had seen a patronus summoned. Had summoned one herself, though it hadn’t been corporeal, but never had she seen one take the form of a magical creature.
And of course, Charlie’s patronus was a dragon.
A Welsh Green to be precise. Exactly like the dragon that the dragon tamers had ridden to collect the Hungarian Horntail, not a week earlier.
“How? How…?”
Charlie smiled back at her, the Welsh Green hovering effortlessly in the air, its tail swishing yards above them.
“I casted it right after they rescued the Horntail,” he smiled at the thought. “I had just finished talking with Mr Scamander and I guess that, combined with the memory of the experience before, was so great that I was able to cast it. I was just so happy that a patronus came to mind and I wanted to cast it.”
She hesitated, feeling his eyes upon her before she finally mustered up the energy to ask, “What memory did you choose just now?”
He smiled, looking at the lake and she knew he was thinking to himself. “The same night I guess. Well, that whole evening.”
“With the Horntail?”
“Yes, and Mr Scamander, and the dragon tamers, and the Welsh Green…and Professor Dumbledore and…you.”
“Oh,” she breathed, startled.
“Oh.”
The words hovered in the air between them.
Finally, Charlie spoke again.
“Would you like to try?”
She blinked at him, “try?”
“Try casting a patronus.”
She blinked again, unsure of how to respond.
“Go ahead,” he said, gently beckoning with a slight dip of his head.
She stepped up beside him, the end of his wand still streaming the ray of light that turned into the dragon high above them.
“Alright,” she whispered, “but don’t expect it to be corporeal.”
“I don’t expect anything,” he said, his voice gentle, calming.
She smiled and she didn’t need any memory at that moment for a beam of light to rush over her wand when she whispered, “Expecto Patronum.”
She slashed her wand elegantly across the sky and the blue waves that wafted from it gradually coalesced together until they formed into a figure of feathers and talons.
“A phoenix,” Charlie whispered what they both now knew. “Your patronus is a phoenix.”
“Yes,” she breathed, “I believe it is.”
He turned to her, a wondrous expression gracing his face.
“It’s beautiful,” a rush of air left his lungs.
Astrid smiled at it, “it is, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. How were you able to cast it? What memory did you use?”
They watched as the phoenix flitted around the hovering dragon, playing with her every now and again.
“I didn’t use a memory.”
“You didn’t…” Charlie gaped at her and she saw as the understanding dawned over his face.
She didn’t need to say a word and he didn’t push her by saying another as well. They just enjoyed the sight of their patronuses for a little while longer. When the cold finally got to Astrid, Charlie walked a step or two beside her into the castle and left her by her door, allowing her to enter her dormitory alone.
Though she didn’t feel entirely back to normal and wasn’t sure how often this feeling would pop up after Rakepick’s betrayal, she felt hope for the first time in a week.
Taking a deep breath, she rested in her bed for her last night at Hogwarts and hoped that the illumination from her patronus would last much longer than those few moments by the lake.