Chapter Thirty-One: The "Visitor"

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I walked back into the classroom, not even trying to hide the fact I'd been crying. Lupin was bound to find out anyway.
"Are you alright, Ivory?" he asked.
I nodded and said nothing.
"Well, if you're sure you're ok, I'd like to talk to you about your Patronus," he said, getting straight to the point. "I believe it was a puppy, yet at the Quidditch match it had become a dog. Is that correct?"
"Yes, sir," I said quietly, wondering where this conversation might be going.

"Do you know why this might be?"
"No, sir."
"Would it be possible for you to produce a Patronus now, to see which form it takes?" he asked me.
I nodded, and quickly focused on my happiest memories. My Patronus shot out of my fingertips, glowing silver, and I tried to see what it was.
"A puppy. Most peculiar," said Lupin, sounding interested.

It's my fault he lost his best friends.
The thought had come suddenly and unexpectedly, but I knew it was true. My Patronus flickered and faded out of existence as I thought more about this fact. Harry's parents had died because of me. Sirius had gone to Azkaban because of me. Pettigrew was thought to be dead because of me. Lupin had lost his best friends because of me. I was as bad as my father. I was responsible for the death of two innocent people, and the imprisonment of another.

"Anything worrying you?" Lupin asked me. Some of my thoughts had obviously shown in my body language.
I shook my head.
"No, sir."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir."
He didn't look like he believed me, but dropped the subject nonetheless.

"Sir?"
"Yes, Ivory?"
"Why did my Patronus change?" I asked, still trying to work out the answer to this question myself. "I know it sometimes changes when you fall in love, but it's not that, and I don't recall reading about any other circumstances under which it could change form. I have definitely not read about a Patronus changing form and then changing back to its original form almost immediately."

"No, that is certainly a new concept," Lupin agreed, sounding thoughtful. "Was it your first time producing a Patronus to actively fend off Dementors?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then my only idea to explain it is that maybe your patronus changes forms — or grows up — when you're directly using it against one or more Dementors, and takes the form of a puppy when it's not needed to actually attack them," he said, and I nodded.
"That seems the most logical explanation," I agreed.

There was a moment of silence.
"How did you learn to produce a corporeal Patronus wandlessly and non-verbally?" Lupin asked me finally.
"It's — it's a bit of — of a long story," I said as I remembered the events of that day, the look of fear on my tutor's face as my father said the two words to end his life. I knew that it was a death I could have prevented if I'd been less selfish.

It took me a few seconds to realise I was crying.

"Ivory?" said Lupin worriedly. "What's wrong?"
"N-nothing," I said quietly, forcing myself to stop crying. "S-sorry, I shouldn't b-be so w-weak..."
"You're not weak for expressing your emotions," he said, his voice calm, but his hand clenched into a fist on the desk.
I didn't say anything, still holding my tears captive inside me.

"Do you want to talk about it?"
I shook my head slightly and pulled my right sleeve down a little more, making sure my scars were completely covered.
"Ok, I understand. But just remember, I'm always here to talk," Lupin said, taking a quick glance at my right sleeve before looking back to my face.

I nodded, then said, "I should probably go to Transfiguration now, sir."
"Yes, you should. Tell Professor McGonagall you were with me if she asks why you're late."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hogsmeade trip today!" Ron said excitedly on the first Saturday after term had ended.
"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Hermione. "Mum and dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"

We went down to breakfast, Ron and Hermione talking happily about what they were going to do in Hogsmeade. Harry looked like he was planning something, which was more than a little worrying.
"Harry, whatever you're thinking about doing, please don't," I said quietly, looking up from the book I was reading.
"I'm not thinking of doing anything!" he replied, far too quickly for my liking.
"You are," I said. "C'mon, spill. What's your big idea?"
"Nothing!"

"Harry, may I just remind you that I'm a skilled legilimens and can easily find out what it is you're planning," I said. He and Ron had finally figured it out a couple of weeks ago.
"Ok, ok — I was thinking of using the invisibility cloak to go to Hogsmeade," he admitted, keeping his voice down so only I could hear him.
"Go ahead, but remember the Dementors can still sense you, even if you're under the cloak," I reminded him quietly. "Also, I'm not coming with you if you do decide to go."

"Why not?"
"Because if anyone were to see me, I'd probably be expelled, and then I'd have to go back to my parents."
"Oh," he murmured. "You don't mind if I go on my own, do you? I can always stay here if you'd rather, but I do want to see Hogsmeade, you know, and—"
"Harry," I said, cutting him off, "it's fine if you want to go on your own."
"Thanks, Ivory."

As we were making our way up to the common room after seeing Ron and Hermione off, I suddenly realised I'd left my book in the great hall.
"Harry, I've gotta go get my book," I said, before lowering my voice and adding, "have fun in Hogsmeade."
I walked away quickly, along deserted corridors, down empty staircases, across the entrance hall and into the Great Hall.
Now, where's my book?
I looked around, then spotted it lying on one of the benches by the Gryffindor table. I picked it up, turned around and started walking back up to the common room, carrying it in my hands.

Suddenly, it wriggled out of my grip, flew through a nearby doorway and disappeared out of sight.
"What the—"
I quickly followed it into the room, which turned out to be the Charms classroom, and tried to see where it was. As I walked further into the room, the door slammed behind me. I spun around, only just stopping myself screaming at the image I was met with.

"Well look who's here."

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