#hjphc

Harry thought about his parents at first. The thought of the pictures in Hagrid’s album of his mother and father with Remus and Sirius at their wedding, of Lily holding him outside the house in Godric’s Hollow, of James trying to catch a toddling Harry chasing a cat through a kitchen, helped Harry chase the Dementors away from Sirius and assisted him when he demonstrated the Patronus Charm to the DA. But as Harry got older, the memories of his parents faded and were replaced by brighter, stronger memories, even memories he once felt were too dark to produce a Patronus with: escaping the Dursleys’ with the twins and Ron, camping at the World Cup, reuniting with Sirius in Grimmauld Place. Harry’s reservoir of happy memories grew deeper as he realized that, despite the darkness in his life, many people he knew had brought a bright light. The stag form made him almost as happy as the memories he thought of to produce it. Something deep within him was connected on a core level to James. He had Lily’s eyes and James’s face, but hearing Professor Lupin talk about his mother and seeing his Patronus proved to Harry more than any facial resemblance that he was his parents’ child.

Hermione had never had any trouble with a spell before. The Patronus was a difficult charm, but she had mastered difficult spells in mere hours. Failing at spells was unfamiliar to her. She tried, and tried, and tried, but nothing solid came out. Wisps of light, but no animal, no beautiful owl or lionness. She took Harry aside one day and asked why it didn’t work. She listed the memories she was using – her first 100%, getting sorted into Gryffindor, receiving her Prefect’s badge – and Harry gently suggested she try something stronger, something more to do with her happiness and less with perfection. Hermione tried again, this time backed with dancing at the Yule Ball, opening books from Harry and Ron on her birthday, wearing her first sweater from Mrs. Weasley, and an otter, shining and glowing, emerged out of her wand. Hermione did not think otters to be particularly fierce or smart, but they adapt quickly, and she liked how adorable her Patronus was.

Ron’s Jack Russell Terrier was conjured entirely with memories of his friends. He knew that Harry and Hermione were the brightest parts of his life, and he had always loved dogs, so when he finally found a memory strong enough (the three of them cheering at the Quidditch World Cup), he was not at all surprised to see the medium dog prance around the room.

Neville did not manage to produce a corporeal Patronus until after Hogwarts. He had never had anything to fuel them, but in the years after Hogwarts he accrued a lifetime’s worth of happy memories: traveling the world with Ginny and Luna, late nights at the bar with his friends, just looking up at the stars and not thinking about anything. So when Harry sent him a Patronus asking him to trivia night at the new coffee shop in Diagon Alley, Neville cast a Patronus without a second thought, and almost didn’t turn around quickly enough to see the lion gracefully traipse off. 

Ginny’s horse was one of the first Patronuses produced in the DA meeting. It bounded out of her wand and around the room as she thought about Harry and Luna. It was only later, lying in bed, hoping that Harry wouldn’t get in too much trouble for organizing the DA, that she started to wonder about what connected Harry and Luna in her happiness, and how both of them (and she herself) were like horses.  

Luna’s Patronus came more from a feeling than from specific memories. The feeling of friendship, of being loved, of being surrounded by people who cared, allowed her to send out her little glowing hare. And maybe it wasn’t large, but it did its job, and Luna felt protected by it. 

Cho felt like a swan made sense for her. They were beautiful birds, but something about them was just naggingly sad. She thought she might not be able to produce one at all, but she let happy memories of Cedric and Harry intertwine, putting aside her conflict and just letting the emotions flow through her until it was almost too much, and the swan burst out, shining and glistening.

The Sorting Hat could feel the power inside Harry when he was only eleven. Only one other student in the school’s history had contained such raw power at such a young age, a very infamous Slytherin, so the hat suggested Slytherin. At Harry’s insistence, the hat placed him in Gryffindor, despite how brilliantly a powerful boy like that could have done in Slytherin.

Very few Parseltongues were able to speak at will, and even fewer without instruction. Most simply let the words fall out when they have the occasion to speak to snakes. But Harry Potter was able to speak carefully, precisely, to accomplish what he needed.

Almost no adult wizards could produce corporeal Patronuses. When Lupin heard Harry’s story about the stag Patronus, he immediately dashed off a letter to Dumbledore. The kid was powerful. He should probably have special tutoring, or private lessons of some kind. Harry needed an outlet for his magic. He was overflowing with power. 

When Barty Crouch Jr. told Harry to Summon his broom for the first task, he wasn’t entirely sure that the boy would actually be able to get it. Harry had managed to throw off Imperio, which was incredibly rare and took amounts of focus and power that many grown wizards didn’t have. So Crouch allowed himself hope, but like everyone else in the professors’ section, he was surprised when he saw the broom zooming towards Harry’s extended, open palm. Harry seemed as surprised as anyone when he hopped on the broom and took off, and it was then that Crouch realized the boy had no sense of quite how vast his power was. 

Dumbledore realized just how powerful Harry was when he watched Harry throw Voldemort out of his head in the Ministry of Magic. It took love, which Dumbledore knew Harry had fountains of, but the sheer magical strength Dumbledore felt emanating from the boy was unlike anything he had ever witnessed. 

Harry felt weak in his sixth year. He found out later that somehow, Voldemort was using the connection between them to draw power from Harry. Despite being finally recognized as the Chosen One, Harry felt less powerful than he ever had before.

Once Hermione taught him how to do them, Harry could put up their wards effortlessly. They were so strong, Hermione sometimes couldn’t leave them to go fishing or gather firewood. 

After the war, Harry went to a mind Healer. He told her everything, about the Dursleys, his parents, the loss of Sirius and Lupin, Horcuxes, Voldemort. At the end of their third session, she gave Harry pamphlets recommending the magic equivalent of a physical therapist. The magic therapist had Harry do some exercises, and diagnosed him with a condition often found in younger witches and wizards that meant Harry had more power than he could control. Now that Voldemort was gone, Harry had all the magic he had been born with, which his therapist measured to be the magic in approximately three average mature wizards. Harry spent months with both therapists, learning to control his magic, letting out his anger at how badly the exercises seemed to be going, gaining finer control and a better understanding of himself every day. After a year, Harry was able to do nonverbal spells, and six months later he was doing most of his magic wandless. Still powerful, now in control.