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Chapter 212: Harry without Hogsmeade

Only Cedric and a handful of outstanding sixth and seventh year students had learned a little bit of it, and were able to conjure up silver daemon vapors, but still couldn't tell from them exactly what kind of animal form their daemon was in.

Not only that, but most of the students who were able to cast their daemon's silver gas in a crude manner could only do so when they were fully mentally focused.

When Dracula commanded the dementor to slightly release the dark and cold aura from its body, the students would have a hard time concentrating completely on recalling those happy memories from the past, and instead, the negative emotions of sadness and grief would constantly hit their minds.

As a result, when actually facing a Dementor, students who could make cursory use of the Guardian Spirit Spell would have to take at least another couple of turns.

...

"Professor, I'd like some more pointers on my Patronus spell!"

Near Halloween, Harry seemed to be dissatisfied with his progress in learning the Patronus spell and came to Dracula's office alone.

Dracula was shaking the wine glass in his hand, and through the reflection of the bright red liquid in the glass, he saw the tangled and lustful look on Harry's face.

"Your academic progress is quite good for a third year, what's not to like?" He asked tantalizingly as he took a light sip of his red wine.

"I can only use this magic so long as I'm not under the pressure of a dementor ..." Harry lowered his head in frustration, "Whenever a dementor lets go of his body a little, I instantly become the bottom student in the entire year. "

In fact, Harry was one of those young wizards who could cast the silver gas of the Patronus spell.

Third year young wizards, whose magical power had not yet grown to its full potential, found it difficult to use many advanced spells successfully, so there were very few young wizards within the entire grade who were able to cast the silver gas.

The Guardian Spirit spell that Dracula taught was an early version learned from the invincible Andros, and after Dracula's own improvements, it gave even these lower grade young wizards greater casting possibilities.

Nonetheless, the speed of Harry's progress was somewhat beyond Dracula's expectations when the dementors had not let go of their breath.

However, Harry's use of the Patronus Curse was also limited to situations where he was not under the influence of the dementors.

Whenever the Dementors let go of the breath on his body for a little while, Harry would immediately experience a fainting sensation, and the sounds that had appeared to reach his ears so many times would come to his mind - the

The sound of evil laughter, the sound of women pleading, the sound of babies crying ... to the point where these sounds slowly pieced together into a picture that made him gradually realize that these were the things that had actually happened to him when he was a child.

It was what really happened when Voldemort killed his family!

"How much one is affected by Dementors is largely determined by one's past memories." Dracula set his glass down and looked over at Harry, the crisp clink of the glass against the tabletop interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"Most of your other classmates haven't experienced the misfortunes that have befallen you, so they can't relate to the desperation you felt when you faced the Dementors." Dracula said, "If you're trying to prove yourself in front of Draco Malfoy because of his ridicule, then I would think it's a completely unnecessary thing to do."

The fact that Harry would be stunned by a dementor had been used as a punchline by his nemesis, Malfoy, and had been spreading it around Slytherin House, and anyone who had been there knew that it had caused Harry a great deal of distress.

"No, it's not about that, Professor." Harry said shaking his head, "It's just that ... after Halloween, the Gryffindor Quidditch team opens up for their next game. I don't want the team to lose another game because of me."

"But I heard that your flying broom has broken." Dracula glanced at him and said casually.

"I can use the sweeping series of brooms as well, and I'm sure I can win against Malfoy's Light Wheel 2001 with the Sweeping Seven Stars as well!" exclaimed Harry.

"Surely it's still because the opponent is a Malfoy?" Dracula laughed softly, "If it's because you're worried about Dementors coming to the Quidditch pitch again, then you can go back now ..."

"Dumbledore made a deal with the Ministry of Magic that in the future the dementors would be kept firmly outside the school. They won't be entering the Quidditch pitch anymore."

"Is that so?" ..." Harry looked at Dracula blankly with double vision.

"Why, shouldn't you be happy to hear that?" Dracula quirked up the corners of his mouth and watched with interest the expression on Harry's face as he tried his hardest to tilt the corners of his mouth upwards, but couldn't bring himself to smile.

"But ...," Harry hesitated for a moment before changing his tone, "but I still want to learn the Patronus spells, I don't want to be defenseless against them."

"It's a gradual process, there's no need for you to be too eager." Dracula said, "Honestly follow the grade's learning progress, and with your talent, you'll be able to at least be proficient in the simplified version of the daemon spell by the end of this school year."

"But we're going to Hogsmeade the day before Halloween, and if we run into a dementor ..."

"I don't think you can go to Hogsmeade." Harry's words were interrupted by Dracula before he could finish, "Professor McGonagall told me that you're not allowed to visit Hogsmeade without getting a parent's signature."

The village of Hogsmeade was the only village in the whole of England whose entire population consisted of wizards, and was situated to the west of Hogwarts castle, where students of third year and above could go on excursions on weekends, but only if they had permission from their parents or other guardians.

Harry hadn't had much hope of getting Aunt Vernon's signature, not to mention the fact that he'd blown up his aunt into a balloon over the summer and had gotten into a big fight with her family, and had ended up having to run away from home.

So, he became the only young wizard in his third year who couldn't go on a trip to Hogsmeade.

At the mention of Hogsmeade, Harry's face immediately became lost.

Then, however, his eyes lit up and he looked up at Dracula.

"Professor, um ... I wanted to ask, would you be able to help me sign the Hogsmeade application?" Harry asked.

"I can't sign it for you." Dracula turned him down without hesitation.

Looking into Harry's steeply darkened eyes, he explained, "Don't you get it, Potter? The fact that you can't go to Hogsmeade wasn't the reason for the lack of a signature in the first place."

"Hogsmeade is, after all, an open village where anyone, including various dark wizards, are able to come and go as they please, and the Ministry of Magic and the professors are worried that Sirius Black will ambush you there."

Harry's eyes widened at Dracula's explanation.

"Understand? Whether or not it would have worked if I had given you a signature is another story, and Professor McGonagall doesn't know how much he's going to complain about me!" Dracula said.

"So yeah, you don't have to worry at all about running into dementors off campus, the professors won't even let you leave school."

...

Harry left the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office lost in thought.

He didn't know why he wanted to learn the Patronus Spell so badly, and even made every excuse in the book to try and get Professor Dracula to tutor him alone.

After being rejected by Professor Dracula, Harry even went to see Assistant Professor Riddle, with whom he had a good relationship.

But what Harry didn't expect was that Assistant Professor Riddle, who was almost omnipotent in all aspects of Black Magic Defense, even told him that he didn't know the Patronus Spell!

Another few sessions of Black Magic Defense class passed, Harry still didn't make any progress, every time he just felt the negative aura from the Dementors, he would immediately fall into a fainting spell, even faster than the previous fainting spells.

By the end of the day, Harry himself couldn't tell if he was trying to learn the Patronus Spell to fight off the Dementors, or if he was just indulging in the voices that the Dementors were hooking out of the depths of his memories and couldn't stop himself from doing so.

Hearing his parents' dying voices in his head was horrible, but it was still the only way Harry could hear them.

Still, if he had to split his mind halfway between trying to hear his parents' voices again, he'd never be able to summon a true Patronus ...

"They're dead," he told himself sternly, "They're dead, and hearing their echoes won't bring them back."

Yet when the next lesson begins, Harry still subconsciously appeals to the Dementor's shadowy aura and lets himself sink into the dark vortex.

...

The day before Halloween, for the first time, the young third year wizards were allowed to go on a trip to Hogsmeade.

Early in the morning, Harry woke up with everyone else to go downstairs for breakfast.

He was in a terrible state of mind, but on the outside he tried to act as normal as possible.

"We'll bring you back lots of sweets from the Honeydukes." Hermione said.

She was keenly aware of the sadness in Harry's heart and tried her best to comfort him.

"Yeah, will bring lots." Ron said as well.

But the two young wizards who were comforting Harry together didn't have much of an understanding, and the two were arguing before breakfast -

Hermione's hybrid cat, Beaver, Crookshanks had been keeping a close eye on Ron's pet mouse, Spotty, lately, and every now and then he tried to lurk inside the Gryffindor boys' dormitory and sneak Spotty out of Ron's bed.

Ron thinks that Hermione's cat is not caring about him, while Hermione thinks that owning a cat is a normal thing, and that it's in a cat's nature to eat mice.

Every now and then the two would break out into a big argument over the matter.

"Don't worry about me." Sandwiched between the two, Harry said perfunctorily, "I'll see you at the Halloween dinner, I hope you have a good time."

He hoped he said it in a casual way, but he did suck at acting and the sadness was about to spill over on his face.

Harry accompanied his two best friends to the front room of the castle.

Fairchild, the castle keeper, stood in front of the front door, checking off one student against another with a long list of names, looking suspiciously at each face, wary of anyone who shouldn't be there butch out.

"Staying, huh, Potter?" Malfoy exclaimed. He was standing with Crabbe and Goyle in the line to Hogsmeade.

"I see, you were afraid of meeting a Dementor!" He giggled playfully, "It's a bit of a shame we won't get to see the famous Harry Potter pass out on the floor."

Harry ignored him and walked up the marble staircase alone, through the un-traveled corridors and back to the Gryffindor tower.

"Cub seed, say your password!" Sir Cadogan shouted, brandishing his knightly sword.

"Chivalry." Harry said listlessly.

"That was yesterday's password." Sir Cadogan bitchily pointed his greatsword at Harry, "I see, you're the Gryffindor traitor, look to the sword, cub seed!"

"Oh, open your teeth." Harry replied with some impatience having just remembered that Sir Cadogan was a doorkeeper who could change his password several times a day.

"Ah, congratulations on your correct answer!" Sir Cadogan opened the portrait and gave way to the doorway into the Gryffindor common room, "Would you like to have a duel with me before you leave?"

"No thanks." Harry declined and climbed through the hole.

The common room was full of first and second years, all talking and laughing, a few of the older students had obviously been to Hogsmeade many times and were no longer new to the place.

"Harry! Harry! Hello Harry!" Colin Creevey, a second year, was extremely in awe of Harry and never missed a chance to talk to him, "Didn't you go to Hogsmeade, Harry? Why don't you go? Hey--"

Colin looked eagerly around him at his classmates and finally saw an empty seat, "Come sit with us if you want, okay?"

"Oh, no thanks, Colin." Harry said.

He didn't want a whole bunch of people eyeballing the scar on his forehead.

"Well ... I have to go to the library, I have to go there to finish my homework." He said perfunctorily.

After he said it he regretted it because he couldn't lie in front of the underclassmen and couldn't bear the thought of Colin knowing he was being perfunctory.

So Harry had no choice but to turn backwards and go through the doorway behind the portrait again.

"Oh, have you come around to wanting a duel with me again?" Sir Cadogan called after his back.

Harry ignored him and walked listlessly towards the library, but changed his mind halfway there:

He didn't want to do anything serious on a day like this.

Harry turned to leave the castle and go around to Hagrid's, but came face to face with Filch.

The castle keeper had apparently just dropped off the last of the people going to Hogsmeade.

"What are you sneaking around for?" Filch asked skeptically.

"Nothing." Harry said honestly.

"Not doing anything?" Filch gestured at him, his jaw twitching unpleasantly, "Spoken like the truth! You must be surveying the terrain as you sneak around here all by yourself!"

"Those pesky friends of yours must be in Hogsmeade right now buying stink bombs and burp powder and flying tattletales! When they get back from buying them, you'll bring them here and ruin the results of my hard work ..."

Filch got angrier and angrier as he spoke, his whole body twitching along with his jaw.

"Well, the way you put it does sound like a good idea." Harry shrugged.

"Oh Merlin's beard, I knew it!" Filch screamed.

Harry ignored him, however, and walked straight out of the castle towards Hagrid's shack at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Hagrid!" Standing in front of the door to the shack, Harry rapped hard on the door, "Hagrid, are you in the house?"

There were heavy footsteps behind the door, then it opened with a creak.

Harry was surprised to see Hagrid standing there, eyes red and swollen, tears falling down the front of his leather undershirt.