The Patronus And Medusa.
The cold bite of the night air had always held a certain comfort for Harry. He stood at the edge of the clearing, a flickering fire behind him casting long, dancing shadows across the ground. Teeth was beside him, as always—his presence steady, grounding, his large frame quiet against the rustling trees. They had returned to the clearing where Harry had spent his first few nights in the woods, a place where everything felt like it had room to breathe. Where Harry could simply exist without the weight of expectations pressing down on him.
It was here, in this place, where he had spent the last few weeks coming to terms with the changes that had begun to unfurl within him. He had been practicing—focusing on the magic he knew he had inside. The magic that wasn’t just his inheritance, but something deeper, something that hummed inside his very bones.
His Patronus.
It had always been something vague in the back of his mind, a flickering idea, a piece of magic that he had barely understood. He hadn’t known where to start or how to shape it, but something about the forest had awakened it inside him. The air was different here—charged with ancient energy. And maybe, just maybe, this place could teach him something about himself.
It had been a slow process at first. He had tried to focus, to concentrate on the warmth of his thoughts, the memories that had once been comforting, but they had always turned cold. His mind would shift, and the thoughts would scatter like shadows.
Until tonight.
Teeth had stayed close by, always understanding, always patient. Harry wasn’t sure if it was his own magic or the strange connection he felt with Teeth, but somehow, in the solitude of the night, he felt the pull of something real. He took a deep breath, grounding himself in the quiet energy of the woods, and reached inside.
The familiar sensation of magic rose in his chest, swirling through his veins. He thought about his connection to the world, the memories of the times when he had felt safe—even if fleeting—and something flickered in the back of his mind.
Medusa.
He remembered the Basilisk, the creature that had surprised him with its quiet intelligence and grace. They hadn’t met for weeks now, but the memory of Medusa’s feline-like teeth—the way the creature had seemed almost playful around him—struck him again with a pang of warmth. He imagined her, slithering gracefully, her long body winding through the trees, her teeth gleaming in the moonlight.
Would Medusa like him? Would they be able to understand each other? He had never known a creature like her, a being who had both a wildness and an intelligence that felt similar to his own. He imagined the two of them, together, roaming the woods side by side.
He focused, letting the image of Medusa fill him completely. The sense of her—her otherworldly presence, her sharp, predatory grace—felt like something that could fit into the magic that swirled within him.
Then, he focused on the feeling in his chest—the sense of connection, the bond that had always been a part of him, but one that he had never fully understood. He let his emotions swirl together, letting them mold into something tangible.
“*Expecto Patronum*,” he murmured quietly.
For a moment, nothing happened. The air hung still, and Harry felt the magic inside him stir, frustrated. He clenched his fists, concentrating harder. This time, he thought about Medusa again—about their potential friendship, about the understanding they might share. He felt the warmth of that connection flooding his chest.
“*Expecto Patronum.*”
And then it came.
A burst of silvery light erupted from Harry’s wand, twisting and forming into something solid in the air. The glow expanded, shaped by Harry’s emotions and thoughts. It was a creature of light—a serpent, long and graceful, its body shimmering in the night like moonlight on water. It was not entirely like Medusa, but the shape—a sinuous, sleek form with feline-like teeth—was unmistakable.
Harry stepped back, watching in awe as the Patronus took form, the silver serpent slithering gracefully through the air before it dissolved into mist.
He stared for a long moment, his heart beating faster than before. The connection to his magic had solidified in a way that felt right. It felt real. For the first time in so long, Harry felt like he had touched something pure—something that was a part of him, something that he could control, something that understood him.
Teeth stood beside him, watching the faint shimmer of the dissipating Patronus with a quiet gaze. Harry turned to look at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. There was something about tonight that felt like a small victory, something he hadn’t known he needed.
He looked down at Teeth’s massive form, the creature’s long limbs standing still and quiet, but there was an energy in the air—a shift. It was almost as if Teeth understood what had just happened.
“I did it,” Harry whispered, his voice soft. “I finally did it.”
Teeth reached out, gently wrapping one of his long arms around Harry’s shoulders, a wordless comfort in his silent embrace. Harry leaned into it, letting himself breathe deeply. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel quite as alone.
Harry’s thoughts turned to Medusa, and he smiled faintly to himself. Maybe one day, he would meet her again. Maybe he would show her his Patronus. Maybe, just maybe, they would understand each other.
“I think… she would like that,” Harry said, speaking to Teeth, though the words were meant for both of them. He thought of the Basilisk’s sharp, feline teeth and the quiet intelligence in her eyes. “Maybe she would even want to meet you, Teeth.”
Teeth’s large form seemed to nod in acknowledgment, and Harry could almost feel the creature’s silent approval. The woods were quiet around them, but for the first time in a long while, Harry felt that peace deep in his chest. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but for the first time, it didn’t feel so empty. The magic was real, and so was the connection.
And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the woods, with Teeth beside him and the memory of Medusa in his heart, Harry finally felt like he had found a small piece of himself.