JK got mad at me when I tried to steal the rights to HP off her...
Sunday Morning
“It has to be something happy, Brennan! Concentrate! Even you must have something happy.”
I’m trying, she thought, angrily. The problem was, happy memories wasn’t something that came easily to Kathleen Brennan. At least, none happy enough for this particular exercise. She was standing in the middle of an empty classroom, wand out and raised, in an exact imitation of the rest of her fellows standing around her. This was the extra-credit Defence Against the Dark Arts class, which she was taking merely because she had nothing better to do with her Tuesday evenings. Avoy was struggling through remedial Divination (which he severely regretted taking, although his father had been adamant on it) and Hicks was tutoring lower students Arithmancy. So, Sparks had to find something to do, or she would be stuck in Ravenclaw Commons, bored out of her mind.
Okay, girl, she thought, focussing her mind, you gotta think of something happy. Strangely enough, that internal voice sounded annoyingly like Hicks when she was attempting not to despair of Sparks’ temper. You can do it. Happy. Happy happy happy. … I am so screwed.
A few moments more hard digging Sparks surfaced from her memories with something that might just work.
She was watching Saturday morning cartoons with her brother Mickey. It was raining outside, and her cereal was soggy from too much milk. No, not that part. Happy. What was the cartoon? It was… Scooby Doo. God, but Mickey loved that programme. During the opening credits, they would sing the theme tune together: “Scooby Doo, where are you? We’ve got some work to do now…” Today, the gang were trying to uncover the secret behind a pterodactyl tormenting a mountain community. She had seen this one about fifty million times, and so had Mickey, but it was still fun. Better. What else? Mum was cooking in the kitchen. Sparks could smell it, and this was why she had left her cereal. She told Mum that the smell had put her right off her food, for which she received a soapy handful of water splashed at her. What was she cooking? It was… was… Harder, Sparks! Cake. It was Dad’s birthday, and Mum was cooking a cake ready for him. Dad was out at work, and he wouldn’t be back until lunch, which was when they would have the party. Sparks had bought him a light-up tie, that sang. It was sutiabley tastless to raise a grin and a promise to wear it around her friends. Was she happy? Yes. Good. Now, try the spell!
“Expecto Patronum!” Sparks tried to keep the feeling that she had discovered within the memory of Scooby Doo and Mickey as she chanted the spell. Nothing the first time, or the second, or the third… wait! A puff of white smoke, and Sparks smirked. See “ she could do happy.
“Not good enough, Brennan. You need something happier.”
Sparks gaped after the professor. Something happier? Had he any idea how hard it was for her to find something happy enough to produce a true, corporeal Patronus? Even Scooby Doo wasn’t enough for the over-bloated, Spandex-thong-wearing… Okay, what next…
She was on holiday, in France, with her friends. Hicks was sitting under the parasol, rolling her eyes over the top of her book as Sparks pushed Avoy into the hole that she had “dug” (wonderful things, wands). It was “ hot, and d'Arty was panting at Hicks for water. Three times already, he had tried to drink the sea. Hicks refilled his bowl with a flick of her wrist. This was a Muggle resort. How did she managed magic? She was wearing a loose-fitting, white outfit that covered her entirely. Her wand was up her sleeve. She was the only one who could get away with doing that, because both Sparks and Avoy were wearing bathing costumes. Sparks’ pale Scottish skin was already developing a tan, although she had to use Factor Fifty sunscreen. What about Avoy? He was lying flat on his back in the hole, and she proceeded to throw the sand piled noxt to it back on top of him. He kept thwarting her plans by digging himself out, eventually managing properly and hoisting her over his shoulder. He subsequently followed her into the sea. And d'Arty? Was just as hyper as ever, and decided that it would be a good idea to follow them into the water. Being only tiny, he first got stuck in the loose sand of the recovered Pit of Doom, then in the wet sand of the shore, before paddling furiously over to where Sparks and Avoy where having a water fight with the waves. Was she happy? Yes. Happier? … Yes. The spell! You will do this!
“Expectro Patronum!” She held tight to the joy of that holiday, twising it and wringing it out, to get every last morsel. “Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!” Another shot of white smoke, which lingered a while this time. The professor came to assess Sparks’ prgress. She had an idea that the teacher just wanted to make her suffer for the epsiode with the giant slug.
“Better,” he conceeded, “but still not good enough, Brennan. Try harder!”
I am trying, you miserable bastard. Sparks was annoyed now, and thought hard of the look on his face when he had seen the giant slug. They had named it Bertie. The slug, not his expression.
It was the month before, and the three of them (Sparks, Hicks and Avoy) were plotting revenge on the professor for daring to give them detention. Of course, they had thoroughly deserved most of the detentions that they received, but this one was Not Their Fault. For, like, the first time. Ever. And, in typical fashion, they felt they should do something worth warranting a detention. Or two, preferably, seeing as they had to make up for both the one they had sat and the one that they will be sitting.
They were sitting in Ravenclaw Commons, around one of the table usually used for homework. They had booted a group of third years off it so that they could use it. The same third years were now sitting on the floor in front of the fire, their essays spread out around them.
Avoy had his Charms book open, and they were looking up the best way of punishing someone like that. How did they come up with the idea for the slug? Hicks had suddenly noticed one on her bag “ they had been outside before the rain started “ and threw it on the table with a noise of disgust. It was like a light-bulb flicked on in all of them at the same time. She loved it when that happened. Try the spell now.
“Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!” Nothing more. Right. Time to get down and dirty.
What happened then, after the slug? We all agreed on a time and place “ which was when? After the class. Hicks would walk passed his desk and drop the slug onto it. Then, just before they closed the door, they would cast simultanious Engorgio charms on it. It worked a dream.
“Expecto Patronum!” More smoke, more form. The professor had stopped to watch her now, and she met his eyes with savage pleasure. She wondered if he could tell what her memory was about.
More! Everything went perfectly to plan, and he had caught us, as planned. Let no-one say that we are anythign but fair: even Ravenclaws have to have a touch of Hufflepuff in them. He was horrified, embarrassed, disgusted. It was brilliant. Of couse, we then got far more detentions than we bargained for, but it was worth it to see him try to magic Bertie off his desk. He eventually managed to break past the Impeturbable charm Avoy had placed on it, and the slug shrank back to normal size. He threw it out the window, and turned back to see a HUGE pile of slug slime on his desk. This was her favourite part “ she had figured out how to put the Permenant Sticking charm on the slime and not the slug, and she relished in the fruits of her labour. It was still there now: it would probably take about three months to scrub off.
“Expecto Patronum!” A greater amount of Patronus, but still no clear form.
“That’s enough, Brennan.” Was he letting her off? No, the look in his eyes said that he was going to make her suffer in her failure. Damn him. “Time to go.”
It seemed like an age since that happened. So much had happened since then: the Tournament, Clandestine, Nirvana… Sparks wasn’t the same person anymore. None of them were, those who had escaped. But she was still the same in one respect: she couldn’t complete the Patronus Charm properly. And now that inability would cost her not only her life, but the lives of those behind her. If she couldn’t preform it in a classroom, in controlled, safe conditions, then how could she do it here? Faced with a real Dementor? A rogue Dementor?
But she had to try.
Damn Gryffindor streak.
She searched desperately, fruitlessly, for a happier memory than those she previously tried. The cold was seeping closer, and she knew that the cure for DKSR would not be given to her. She was officially dead.
Closer. Closer. The rattling breath chilled her more even than the Fear that seeped from it. Despair incarnate. The most disgusting thing that ever walked the Earth. Well, not walked exactly. More like hovered. That was Avoy’s voice. He would not want her to give up. Damn this!
Anger, red hot anger sliced through her. She could always rely no her anger, even if she couldn’t find her Happy Memory. What day was it, this day that she would die again. Sunday. What was it with Sundays?
Sitting on the green verge, back against the crash barrier. The car had broken down: not that this was surprising, it was ancient and Jimmy drove it too hard and too recklessly. She didn’t mind, it was far more fun that way. She had yet to admit to herself that she just didn’t want to tell him to stop.
It had been sunny when they set out, with blue skies all around. But that had been in Kent, and this was Chepstow. The difference in weather, whilst expected, was still surprising. According to the report on the radio “ which still worked, when everything else didn’t “ it was still sunny there.
The rain had plastered her hair flat around her head, as it had with his. Their clothes were soaked, and it felt like she had Lake Michigan in her battered trainers. But she didn’t care: this was fun, sitting here in the rain with this strange, amusing, dark-haired man. They were soaked to the skin, and had no way of getting home. The humour of their situation hit Sparks suddenly, and she started to laugh. Jimmy joined in, and they sat there in the rain, laughing. Several drivers honked as they drove past, but they just waved cheerfully, even when one boy racer hit the pothole and sprayed them. This just caused them to laugh harder.
She had no idea what the time was when they broke down, and had no idea what the time was when the pick up truck came. All she knew was that it wasn’t enough: she wanted to spend more time here, sitting in the rain with this man who…
Jimmy’s insurance would cover for the breakdown service, and they didn’t have to be towed, which was always good news. For both them and the mechanic, Sparks guessed, because they were drenched and dripping. But by the time he had fixed the engine, the rain had stopped and they were due to continue on their way. Jimmy thanked the man, and came to sit back down beside Sparks.
They sat on the wet grass in silence for several moments, before Jimmy picked a marguerite from behind the barrier and pushed it behind her ear.
“Expecto Patronum!” She had found it, her Happy Memory. And she found her Patronus as well, it seemed, for instead of pale smoke pouring out of the end of her wand, a creature about the same size as a large dog exploded from the end. It stood in front of her, made from white light, and roared white fire at the approaching Dementors. They fled before her and her Patronus.
Sparks had found herself again, at last. Together with her firedrake Patronus, she walked back to her group, happy for the first time in forever.
A/N: As always, for my Beta: lucilla_pauie. Cookies!