If I Could(A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Peter Pettigrew?

It's been days since I've spoken to anyone but my teachers.

Hermione gave me small smiles with sad eyes.

Harry avoided me at all costs.

Ron pretty much disowned me as a sister.

The new traveled fast about my relation to Sirius. The whole school knew by the end of a single day.

No one would talk to me but the teachers. People glared at me and whispered rude things. I was even "banished" from my dormitory because the other girls didn't feel safe. I slept in the common room each night, and had to creep quietly in to get my things in the mornings.

Whilst I had no social interactions with people my age, I had plenty with the teachers.

McGonagall gave me pity smiles and talked to me outside of class time.

Snape even began to like me more, since I wasn't talking in his class.

But every now and then, I'd turn my head to catch Harry staring at me. His eyes always looked watery, but he'd look away too quickly for me to really see.

Lupin and I had scheduled private lessons for me to learn how to defend myself from dementors; I'd wanted to know since that day on the train.

He informed me that Harry was also taking private lessons, so he made sure to do separate days with us.

"Now, Emma, the spell I'm about to teach you,is very advanced magic. It is way above the Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."

"Oh, Arthur has mentioned that once or twice," I chimed in.

"A Patronus is a positive force that works as a shield against the dementors. A Patronus is conjured out of a happy memory, a very strong, happy memory. The dementor feeds off of that happiness, instead of the wizard himself."

I nodded.

"I need you to think of a happy memory. Can you do that, Emma?" I nodded once more, although I didn't think I could.

I don't think I've ever been truly happy.

I've felt joy.

I've laughed and smiled all day.

But never truly happy.

"Close your eyes Emma. Think of the memory; allow it to fill you up and overpower every thought in your head."

I closed my eyes, but nothing happy came.

All I saw was the hate in my best friends' eyes.

The disappointment.

The anger.

"When you're ready, speak after me. Expecto Patronum." I repeated it softly.

He stepped out into the room and stood beside a cupboard with a total of twelve locks on the outside.

"Since your boggart isn't a dementor, we'll have to work with the real thing." He looked a bit worried.

"Wand at the ready, Emma." I lifted up my arm and pointed my wand in my sweaty hand. With a wave of his wand, each lock popped open and he carefully opened the door.

Out swooped a large dark figure: a dementor. It groaned and wheezed under its black hood.

I tried to think of happiness.

But it'd been so long since I'd even smiled. No one my age would even look at me without a dirty comment.

"Expecto Patronum!" I chanted. Nothing. I still didn't have a memory.