The air in the classroom was thick with tension. The pale light of the fading day barely touched the corners, casting long, eerie shadows as Harry stood, panting and shaking, his wand raised. His face was tight with frustration, and his heart ached with every failed attempt.
"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, his voice hoarse from repeating the incantation for what felt like hours. A wisp of silver mist curled lazily from the tip of his wand, then dissipated into nothingness.
Harry let out a choked sound, part sob, part growl. He lowered his wand and clenched his fists until his nails bit into his palms. He couldn’t do it. Again.
From the corner of the room, Remus Lupin watched quietly, his kind eyes tinged with concern. "Harry," he began softly, stepping forward.
"I can’t!" Harry snapped, turning away to hide the tears that burned behind his eyes. "I can’t do it!" His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, his entire body shaking with exhaustion and emotion.
He didn’t want to hear them anymore, the screams. His mother's desperate plea, her last words to save him. His father’s voice, strong and defiant, but then gone too soon. Over and over, he re-lived their deaths every time the Dementors came close. Their voices were the only echoes of them he had, but each time he heard them, it tore him apart a little more.
Remus approached slowly, his voice gentle but firm. "Harry, I know it's hard. But you can do this."
Harry’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "I’ve tried everything!" he shouted, his frustration bubbling over. "I’ve thought of the happiest moments I can remember, seeing Ron and Hermione, flying on my broomstick, winning the Quidditch Cup, it’s never enough! It doesn’t work!"
Remus’s expression softened as he knelt down in front of Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It’s not just about thinking of something happy, Harry. It’s about finding something inside you that’s stronger than the fear, something you can hold on to even when everything feels like it’s slipping away."
Harry’s lip trembled, and he blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. He didn’t understand. What was stronger than the pain, than the loneliness?
Remus hesitated for a moment, as though weighing his words, and then spoke softly, "Your father... he was a lot like you, you know. Brave, stubborn, fiercely protective of the people he loved."
Harry’s throat tightened at the mention of his father. "Did he, did he ever cast a Patronus?" he asked, his voice small.
"Yes, he did," Remus said with a faint smile. "His Patronus was a stag. He used to joke that it was because he was as graceful as one, but we all knew it was because he had such a strong spirit. And your mother..." Remus’s voice softened even more. "Lily’s Patronus was a doe. Gentle, protective. They balanced each other perfectly."
Harry swallowed hard, his heart aching, longing for something he never had, the family he never knew. He had always imagined his parents in those final moments, and now, hearing Remus’s stories, it was like he was seeing them for the first time.
"Your mother was one of the kindest people I ever knew," Remus continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "She had this way of seeing the good in everyone, even when they couldn’t see it themselves. She would have been so proud of you, Harry."
Harry looked away, his vision blurring. "But I don’t even know them," he whispered, his voice breaking. "How am I supposed to... how am I supposed to be strong when I don’t even know who they were?"
Remus’s hand tightened on his shoulder, a grounding presence. "You do know them, Harry," he said quietly. "You carry them with you every day. In your courage, in the way you fight for what’s right, in the way you love your friends and protect them. They live in you, and that’s something no Dementor can ever take away."
Harry stared at him, his breath catching. He had spent so long thinking of his parents as ghosts, as memories locked in that one terrible moment. But Remus was right. They were more than that. They were part of him.
"I want to be like them," Harry whispered. "But I don’t know if I can."
"You already are," Remus said softly, his eyes warm. "You’ve been like them all along."
For the first time in hours, something inside Harry shifted, a small flicker of light breaking through the darkness. His parents weren’t just the screams and shadows in his nightmares. They were the strength he felt when he stood up against injustice, the love he had for his friends, and the courage that kept him moving forward even when it hurt.
Taking a deep breath, Harry raised his wand again. His hand trembled, but this time, there was something different. His heart still ached, but it wasn’t weighed down by fear. It was filled with a fierce determination, a desire to honor his parents, to carry their legacy forward.
"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, and this time, his voice didn’t waver.
A bright, silvery light exploded from his wand, taking form in the shape of a magnificent stag. It stood proudly before him, its antlers gleaming, its presence filling the room with warmth and strength.
Harry stared at it, breathless, tears slipping down his face. It was real. He had done it.
Remus watched with a soft, proud smile, his eyes shining with emotion. "You did it!"
Harry lowered his wand, his voice thick as he whispered, "Only because you were there."
Remus placed a hand on his shoulder again, squeezing gently. "No, Harry. You did it because they were there."