Harry quickly tucked away his wand, and his Patronus vanished. He looked at the battered Dementor with a sheepish expression, clearly feeling a bit guilty.
"Harry, congratulations! You've completely mastered the Patronus Charm," said Dudley, who was the first to offer his sincere praise.
"It's just a Boggart under a Confundus Charm, disguised as a Dementor. No big deal—if it's gone, I'll just grab another one. There's plenty of those things out there," Dudley added nonchalantly.
Lupin's eyelids twitched at Dudley's casual tone. That's a Dementor, a highly dangerous dark creature, he thought. He's talking about catching one like it's as easy as picking up a garden gnome!
What kind of family does Lily's sister have? Why didn't James or Lily ever mention them? Lupin wondered. Of course, he wouldn't have heard about them from James—after all, the first time James and Lily met Petunia, they nearly got into a row with Vernon.
Dudley pulled a potion vial from his pocket and tossed it onto the Dementor. In no time, the creature's injuries healed completely.
"Everyone, take a look! Harry's nailed the essence of the Patronus Charm. So, who's next?" Lupin asked, his voice full of encouragement.
With Harry setting the bar high, the young witches and wizards eagerly volunteered to try.
Even with such a perfect teaching tool, the lesson time was limited. Not every student could get a chance to practice, so the earlier you stepped up, the better. But not everyone was Harry Potter, and not everyone had his natural talent.
Most of the young witches and wizards couldn't fully conjure a Patronus. At best, they produced faint silver wisps, which weren't strong enough to fend off a Dementor. One by one, the eager volunteers stepped down, their faces paler than the last. The fastest barely lasted three seconds.
Facing a Dementor head-on wasn't something everyone could handle. Most wizards were ordinary, after all, and even in practical settings, it took time to grow.
Meanwhile, the Dementor itself was starting to look a bit uneasy—it was getting too full from all the attempts.
The lesson continued until another member of the disciplinary group stepped up.
Next up was Neville.
Soon enough, he successfully cast a proper Patronus Charm. His Patronus took the form of a cabbage—yes, the kind you'd find in the castle gardens.
The third success was Ron.
He summoned a… Niffler.
Most wizards' Patronuses took the form of ordinary animals, though magical creatures weren't unheard of. Dumbledore's Patronus, for example, was a phoenix.
The fourth was Hermione.
Hermione was a top student, no question, but even she wasn't perfect at everything. Her strengths lay in charms and transfiguration—dark magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts were her weaker areas.
Her Patronus was a cat, though it wasn't fully solid, making it hard to tell the exact breed.
The last to go was Draco.
By all accounts, Draco should've been the second to master the charm after Harry. But he insisted that if he couldn't be first, he'd steal the show as the finale. So, he waited until now to step up.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Silvery threads streamed from the tip of his wand, forming a shimmering peacock. From the long, trailing tail feathers, it was clearly a male.
Aside from these five, none of the other young wizards succeeded. A few managed to produce vague, blurry animal shapes, but that was it.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson passed with students facing off against the Dementor. Even those who didn't succeed learned a ton from the hands-on experience. With a bit more practice, they'd likely master it soon.
"I think you should all go back and practice the Patronus Charm. No homework tonight," Lupin announced.
His suggestion was met with unanimous approval—even from Hermione, who usually loved assignments.
"No homework means I've got time to practice other charms," Hermione said, after some gentle nudging from Dudley.
In the limited time they had, focusing on the right things was the best choice.
After class, the young witches and wizards left the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, their lips slightly pale but their spirits buzzing with excitement. They couldn't wait to have another go.
That excitement lasted until they returned to their common rooms.
Soon, news spread like wildfire through Hogwarts: Sirius Black had broken into the Gryffindor common room and nearly trashed a dormitory. The once-calm castle was thrown into chaos again.
Fudge's desk was, once more, buried under a pile of complaint letters.
It was clear yet again that Dementors were useless at catching Sirius Black. All they did was terrify Hogwarts students.
That same day, Harry received an anonymous package with no sender's name.
When he unwrapped the thick oilskin paper, his eyes lit up.
Inside was the finest broomstick in the wizarding world—a Firebolt.
This was the standard broom for the Quidditch World Cup, the dream of every Quidditch-loving witch or wizard. It could accelerate to 150 miles per hour (241 km/h) in ten seconds. In Muggle terms, it was the wizarding equivalent of a top-tier supercar.
And its price matched its reputation as the wizarding world's supercar. It was the most expensive broomstick out there, far beyond what an average wizard could afford—even Harry, with a vault full of gold, couldn't justify buying one.
In four words: Insanely! Expensive! As! Hell!
Harry was thrilled but also dying to know who'd sent him such an extravagant gift.
He asked Dudley if he'd bought it. In Harry's mind, Dudley was the only person he knew with enough money to pull it off.
But Dudley was clear: it wasn't him.
He'd buy Harry a house, sure, but a broom? No way.
If it wasn't Dudley, it couldn't be a Hogwarts professor or Dumbledore. And it definitely wasn't Ron or Neville.
Could it be Draco?
Harry stared at Draco for so long that the other boy started to squirm. Finally, Harry shook his head. The Malfoy family might be rich, but Draco didn't have that kind of cash.
In the end, it was Dudley who gave Harry the answer.
"Probably Sirius Black," he said, handing out vials of a special potion to the disciplinary group. It was the one that granted the strength of four different animals—always good to have on hand.
No one took Dudley's words lightly. If Dudley said it, it was probably true.
"Sirius Black, huh," Harry muttered, glancing at the Firebolt with a pang of regret.
If it really was from Sirius, he'd have to turn it over to Professor McGonagall for inspection.
He wasn't big on Quidditch, but who could say no to the wizarding world's supercar?