A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Draco was barely there yet, but he didn't know the spell.

Felix was hopeful yet also believed success wouldn't come easily, given he himself was in the experimentation phase.

Previously, he had selectively forgotten the technique of this spell, infusing his magic with full emotions, but not positive, happy memories. Instead, he tried to evoke the feeling described in ancient scrolls—"fighting for noble causes."

He seemed perfectly fitting in this aspect: he aimed to revolutionize the magical world, aligning it with the real world. To Felix, this surely counted as a noble cause.

But the outcome was disheartening.

He couldn't birth a corporeal Patronus with this belief. It seemed something was missing, at best conjuring a blurry, misty, silver shield.

The students on the sofa exchanged glances. Had the professor negated the Patronus Charm or rather uncovered its true nature based on this foundation? They weren't sure.

"Let's give it a try."

Felix pointed his finger, and Fred and George's bodies swiftly inflated like balloons, stretching from one foot to two, three... until they reverted to their original size, both touching their faces in shock.

Then Felix spoke in a low, entrancing tone, "Think about it. You're the cream of your age group, with strong wills. If you so desire, you can accomplish great things. Everyone has a place in society, but for you, it's not about succumbing to fate. It's about following your heart, seeking true purpose..."

The office dimmed, his voice seemingly carrying an enchantment that effortlessly guided these people into his predetermined emotions. They pondered, considering what they truly desired.

Only Draco and Astoria exchanged bewildered glances. They remained unaffected, but Draco felt oddly out of place. Hadn't the professor just twisted his words to fit others, if he hadn't lost his memory?

"Contemplate your noble aspirations. How much are you willing to sacrifice... When faced with setbacks, opposition, even despair, what will you do? Now, take out your wands, chant your spells, show me your determination!"

Ancient runes plunged the office into absolute darkness. Draco and Astoria attempted to light their wands, finding it futile. Amidst the profound darkness, solemn voices echoed, calling out spells with resolute determination: "Huguardium—"

The professor's whispers penetrated their ears, unsettling the only two unaffected individuals. Instinctively, they drew closer.

"What... what's happening?" Astoria nervously inquired.

"Stay put," Draco gritted his teeth. "And don't pinch me," he added as Astoria shifted her fingers from his arm.

"Huguardium!"

A hazy light emerged, Cedric's face fleeting, followed by brighter flashes. The twins, Hermione, Neville, faces taut with seriousness, appeared like fleeting phantoms, lingering momentarily before plunging back into the darkness.

Pressure loomed in everyone's hearts.

But despite persistent efforts, no one succeeded. Felix frowned. Could there really be an issue—was his assumption of a 'true protector' wrong?

He had to change his approach.

His voice grew hoarse, this time not encouragement but a blow, "Give up... abandon hope... pretend none of this happened, bury your dreams deep, accept reality... It's not shameful. How can one person defy the entire world? There will be other opportunities in the future..."

Deeper darkness descended, impenetrable, a hand's breadth away.

A phoenix's cry resounded. Dumbledore and Fawkes materialized in the office. His brow furrowed, expression grave, impervious to the thick black mist.

"Felix," he spoke solemnly.

"Albus, you're here," Felix replied calmly.

As they conversed, several silvery beams faded, but some struggled. Dumbledore's gaze swept the students, quickly comprehending what occurred. He silently observed, finally locking eyes with Harry.

Harry, red-faced, eyes teary, teeth clenched audibly.

"What did you show that boy?" Dumbledore demanded.

"It's not within my control—I merely escalated, pushing him deeper into 'despair'," Felix explained, waving his hand, rousing some students from the darkness to prevent them from being overwhelmed. They didn't leave empty-handed, at least gaining clarity on what they truly desired.

Yet Harry and Neville, two with exceptional resilience, persisted longer.

Harry, lost in his constructed fantasy, everyone dead... Sirius, Dumbledore, Professor Lupin, all of them... Mad-Eye, Tonks, Colin... Neville, Ginny, Fred, George, the Weasley parents...

He heard the gentle flow of water, the sound of blood merging.

Harry gazed vacantly at Voldemort, a smirk on his face, Ron and Hermione's bodies at his feet.

Voldemort sneered, raising his wand, "Surrender." His voice, cold and triumphant, "Everyone you knew is gone. This is the fate of defying the Dark Lord."—"No!" Harry screamed madly, but Voldemort's wand emitted a dazzling green light, and in a flash, he collapsed.

He was dead.

Harry lay in the icy darkness, silence enveloping him. A voice offered him a chance to return but demanded his compliance with fate.

"Surrender to Voldemort?" The voice received no rebuttal. Gritting his teeth, Harry rose from the frigid ground. At that moment, Voldemort emerged from the darkness, shadowy figures trailing behind him. Harry took a deep breath, brandishing his wand. Yet, behind him, voices emerged—those who had died seemed to return.

He gazed blankly at familiar faces, seemingly corroded by darkness, repetitively echoing the words of the feeble.

"Give up, Harry," Hermione said.

"We've utterly failed. The Dark Lord is willing to spare us," Ron said bitterly.

"Surrender temporarily," Professor Snape stated succinctly.

Death Eaters and Voldemort's minions surged forward, submerging those important to him, leaving a circular void, an arena crafted from flesh and blood. Voldemort stood on the stage, mocking him.

"You're the last one. Die like this, or submit to my rule?"

As Harry raised his wand in response, the voice in his mind urged him, "Use the Patronus charm, summon the guardian..."

A majestic stag leaped forth, resplendent and towering between Harry and Voldemort. Like a true giant, it shattered the green light, dispelling the darkness.

The people in the office observed Harry's new Patronus. The silver light coalesced into the stag, its fur shimmering silver, making it appear as if a real creature stood before them.

Its eyes were both tender and passionate, calm and resolute, unwavering. Just like its master, as it stood there, everyone—be they figments of Harry's imagination or real students under immense pressure—felt their courage doubled, their beliefs unwavering, filled with an infinite, overwhelming strength.

As if they too shared that weighty courage and conviction.

Felix gazed at the transformed guardian, finally realizing his shortcomings, though change might not come, he knew.

A thin film of moisture clouded Dumbledore's blue eyes. He fumbled with the black stone ring on his hand, the biggest weight lifted off his chest. The real plan could commence. His lips moved, a thread of voice worming into Felix's ears.

"Voldemort met with me last night. After much ado, he seems to have confirmed my status... The duel's time has been set."

"When?" Felix inquired.

"Two months from now!"

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