Alchemy professor at Hogwarts

Chapter 195 Teaching content of the super-syllabus

"Professor, I'm here to thank you," Harry explained his purpose of coming, he didn't understand how the other party could put a kind "dementor" on him.

Hardy stood up from behind a pile of alchemy coursework, "This is my duty as a teacher at Hogwarts, isn't it?"

He patted Harry on the shoulder, but his expression became a little serious, "However, Potter, I always think that you'd better deal with those eerie monsters by yourself."

"Me?" Harry shivered at the thought of the Dementor's hood and tattered cape.

Hardy checked the time, then with a flick of his wand, a curtain in the corner drew back.

"What's that?" Harry asked, looking at what was under the curtain.

"A Boggart." Hardy said, walking towards the big box under the curtain, "This is what Professor Lupine entrusted me to get, and it should be the content of your next lecture."

Hardy explained to Harry what makes a Boggart special, "It will turn into your innermost fear to frighten you, but it won't do any real harm."

"Well," said Harry, "I think it's going to be a dementor in front of me."

Hardy smiled, "So if you want, I have time to teach you how to drive away the dementors, although this is the content of the super class."

Harry looked up with a surprised expression, and after a brief hesitation, he drew his wand.

He found that he really needed to learn how to deal with those ugly monsters, and he didn't want to fall off the broomstick again.

"Then..." Hardy raised his wand and signaled Harry to do the same, "The spell I'm about to demonstrate and teach you is a very advanced magic, far beyond the level of ordinary wizards, It's called the Patronus Charm."

"What's the use?" Harry asked nervously.

"Well, if you do it right, it conjures a Patronus," said Hardy, "and it's the dementor's nemesis, and it's a sort of guardian that stands between you and the dementors like a shield." .”

A picture suddenly flashed in Harry's mind:
Hiding himself behind a figure the size of Hagrid with a big club.

Hardy continued: "The Patronus is a positive force, an external expression of the things that the dementors live on—hope, joy, the desire to survive, but it doesn't feel hopeless like a real person, So the dementors can't do anything to it."

"I have to remind you, Potter, this spell may be too advanced for you. Many brilliant wizards have not been able to master it, so you need to practice persistently."

"What does a Patronus look like?" Harry asked curiously.

"Each Patronus is unique to the wizard who conjured it up."

"Professor, how did you change it?"

"When you say a spell, you must focus all your thoughts on a particularly pleasant moment for the spell to work."

Harry racked his brains for a pleasant moment.

Undoubtedly, all his encounters with the Dursleys could not be considered, and in the end, he settled on the moment when he rode his broomstick for the first time.

"There," he said, recalling as accurately as possible that strange, ecstatic feeling he had.

"The spell is—" Hardy paused rhythmically, "Call God to protect you!"

"Cheers," Harry repeated silently, "Cheers."

"Have you concentrated your thoughts on that pleasant memory?"

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, hastily forcing his thoughts back to the first time he rode a broomstick, "blessing—no, guard—sorry—guard, protector— —”

Suddenly, something shot out from the tip of his wand, what looked like a cloud of silvery white gas.

"Did you see it?" Harry said excitedly, "There is a reaction!"

"Fine," Hardy said, smiling, "So, are you ready to practice on Dementors?"

"Okay." Harry said, clenched his wand tightly, and walked to the center of the alchemy office.

Hardy grabbed the lid of the box and yanked it off.

A dementor emerged slowly from the box, its hooded face turned towards Harry, a cold, mangy hand clutching the cloak.

The lights in the office flickered and went out.

The dementor stepped out of the box and began to approach Harry silently and quickly, making low, grunting panting noises.

A bone-chilling chill enveloped Harry.

"Guardian!" Harry yelled, "Guardian! Guardian-"

However, the office and the dementors were disappearing, Harry was suddenly plunged into a thick white mist, and his mother's voice was louder than ever, echoing in his head.

"Don't touch Harry! Don't touch Harry! Please—I'll do anything—"

"Get out of the way - out of the way, woman -"

……

……

"Potter!"

Harry jerked awake, lying on his back on the floor, and the office lights came on again.

He didn't need to ask what had just happened to know that he must have been knocked out again by something inside his head, just like what had happened on the Quidditch pitch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, sitting up, feeling the cold sweat trickling down behind his glasses.

"Are you all right?" Hardy said.

"It's okay..." Harry stood up, leaning on a table, and leaned against it.

"Here," Hardy said, handing him a chocolate frog, "eat it and we'll try again. I didn't expect you to make it the first time. Honestly, if you did, I'd feel Shocked."

"Worse than Quidditch," Harry muttered, biting off the Chocolate Frog's head. "I heard her voice louder this time, and him... Voldemort..."

"Potter, I can totally understand if you don't want to go on."

"I want to go on!" Harry said emotionally, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth.

"I have to keep going! What if a Dementor suddenly appears during my next Quidditch match? I can't fall off again. If we lose again later, this year's Quidditch Cup will be lost! "

"Okay then," Hardy said, "you might want to pick another memory, I mean a pleasant one, and focus on it, the one just now didn't seem strong enough."

Harry thought hard, thinking that when Gryffindor won the House Cup last year, he must have been in a very happy mood.

Gripping his wand firmly again, he posed in the middle of the office.

"Ready?" Hardy asked, gripping the lid of the case.

"Okay," said Harry, trying to keep his head occupied with the pleasant thought of Gryffindor winning instead of thinking about what would happen when the box was opened.

"Go!" said Hardy, lifting the lid.

It was freezing cold and dark again in the office.

The dementor slid forward, wheezing and wheezing, a rotting hand reaching straight for Harry.

"Guardian!" Harry yelled, "Guardian! Guardian—"

A white mist enveloped his consciousness, and some large, vague figures moved around, and then a new voice came, a man's voice, screaming nervously.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll stop him!"

Someone stumbled out of the room, a door slammed open, and there was a raucous rattling maniac.

……

……

"Potter! Potter...wake up..."

Hardy slapped Harry hard on the cheek.

This time, it took Harry a minute to figure out why he was lying on the floor of a dusty classroom.

"I heard my father's voice," Harry murmured. "It's the first time I've heard his voice—he wants to hold Voldemort in check by himself and give my mother time to escape."

Harry suddenly became aware that tears were mixed with sweat on his face.

In order not to be seen by Professor Ollivander, he pretended to tie his shoes, buried his face as low as possible, and wiped tears on his robes.

"You've done a good job, that's what it takes to practice the Patronus," Hardy said. "That's all for today."

"No!" said Harry, standing up again. "I'm going to try again! I wasn't thinking of something pleasant enough, so that's why... wait..."

He rummaged.

A special, very pleasant memory...he could use it to conjure a strong and powerful Patronus.

The moment when he first found out that he was a wizard and was leaving the Dursleys to go to Hogwarts!
If that wasn't a pleasant memory, he didn't know what was.

Harry focused his attention on how he'd felt when he found out he was leaving Privet Drive, and he stood his ground, facing the box again.

(End of this chapter)