#para:observational purposes

[likeateatray-inthesky]

Observational Purposes || Doug & Mal

There weren’t a whole lot of people that Malinda could reasonably talk to about her work without arousing suspicion. Most people in school were far too clever to anticipate what it was that she was planning to do. So she needed to find someone that probably wouldn’t catch on as quickly. Doug had been in her year once upon a time. He was always easily distracted, she remembered that much. He was smart, but not necessarily quick, and that was what she needed. If she recalled correctly - it had been a long time, after all - he’d been interested in their Care of Magical Creatures class, she just hoped that was still the case. The end of the school year had come and gone, and everyone was getting ready to go home the next day on the train. Malinda, however, had been packed for a while, and was on a mission for something else. So as she roamed the halls, she asked a few young Hufflepuffs if they knew where Doug could be found, and they pointed out toward the quidditch pitch. She thanked them profusely and gathered her research in her bag and headed out there, hopeful.

It didn’t take long for her gaze to settle on the familiar mop of blond hair. They hadn’t necessarily been friends, but Malinda had gone out of her way to introduce herself to most people as a little fifth year, wanting to create those “lasting teenage friendships” as her mother had so poorly put it. Clearly, most of them didn’t stick, as she didn’t really stay close with most of the people she’d attempted to make friends with. Now, she was just hoping he’d remember her.

“Hey, Doug!” she called out as he landed. She clutched her bag close to her side as she made her way over to him, a bright but nervous smile on her face. “I don’t know if you remember me, it’s been awhile since we’ve had a class together. I’m Malinda, we had Care of Magical Creatures together?” she said, more in the form of a question than a statement. “I was wondering if you might be able to help me with something?”

Doug was not the brightest bulb in the pack. He wasn’t the fastest on a broomstick or the smartest cookie in the bunch. But he was Doug, and that spoke for a lot when it came to measurable traits – at least, to Doug it did. He liked to assume it applied to other people as well, but what could he say? He wasn’t the best mind-reader, either.

The Hufflepuff was completely unaware as the Gryffindor girl wandered up behind him, his brown eyes screwed up tight as he very vigorously was trying to clean off a scuff along the handle of his broom. It may have been an older piece of equipment, but it was one of the nearest and dearest things in his life (aside from his stuffed Squirrel, of course). Because of this, he did his very best to keep appearances up, even if the supposed scuffs he saw were actually just patterns on the wood Doug hadn’t noticed.

Doug bolted upright and nearly out of his skin at the holler, whirling around on his toes and dropping into a ready stance. Broom forgotten, he cocked his head at the girl then straightened like a rocket, throwing his arm into an exuberant wave that matched his face-splitting grin perfectly. 

“Hi there!” he chirped. He blinked and almost just as fast, he was halfway to the other, to make her journey easier. Doug’s gaze flicked to the way she held her bag, and then the bag itself (it had pretty colors on it), before floating back up to her face. He rocked back and forth on his toes. “I remember everyone, silly. I always like to remember my friends, especially when I am around the creatures.”

Doug paused, chewing his lower lip as he decided if he should mention her performance in the class. He was surprised he remembered that at all; Doug shrugged and blew past it. “You are Malinda. You are nice, and I like nice people, so I will help you. I will be happy to help a nice Malinda!”

Doug got really close really fast, and Malinda had to take a solid few seconds to sort through what had just happened. She might be good at pretending she was completely present in whatever situation she was in, but when it actually came down to things, it took her a lot longer to process everything. Her lack of sleep and the fact that she still hadn’t really had a whole lot of time to properly grieve was taking a toll on her. With the added stress of work and graduation, Malinda was definitely struggling. As she listened to him ramble, she chuckled softly. He hadn’t changed, that much was clear. He was still the sweet and a little dopey kid she’d tried to befriend before.

“Thank you so much,” she responded with similar enthusiasm. “I’ve never been really good with magical creatures, and for my job, I have to do a lot of research on Dementors…I’ve pretty much exhausted all of my other options, I was wondering if you might know where I could find some information on them, like the places they dwell, what attracts them most, that sort of thing? The more specific the better, of course, this is for professional purposes. And naturally, I’d give you credit where credit is due with my presentation.” It wasn’t necessarily a presentation, but she would have to present something to her boss, and she needed all the research materials she could get for her own books and knowledge and future use. The term worked in this context. “I’ve done a few drafts already, and I just don’t think I have enough information. And you’re the only person I could think of that would be good with this sort of thing. You’re super smart,” she added, hoping the compliment would make him more willing to help her out. Usually when people talked about dementors or other dark creatures, they shied away from the subject, and she would expect that from Doug, too, but his happy and helpful demeanor she hoped she could kind of use to her advantage if she played her cards right. 

In a flash the world turned cold around Doug and he stumbled and nearly face-planted at her feet. Dementors. Dementors. The word sent all his smiles and happiness screaming from his veins; the Hufflepuff shrank two sizes right then and there.

“You…you said…” he stammered softly. Wide brown eyes flicked from her face, to the ground, to the sky behind her, to her again, searching fervently for any sign that she was just playing a (very cruel) joke on him. Doug’s voice dropped to a near-whisper and he began to fidget with his sleeves. “Dementors…”

A silence fell around him, a stillness that wasn’t at all common for someone like the regularly beaming Hufflepuff Seeker. At the back of his mind, he remembered the pages on Dementors in his Care of Magical Creatures texts, how even the bare-bones description had made him run crying under his parents’ bed in the summer of last year. Or was it two years ago? Either way, Doug had been scared of them forever…and not just because of the books.

But Malinda had come to him for help. He could help someone. He could make them happy and impress them and then he could kinda-sorta-maybe be a Cool Cat to her. Doug’s mum called interesting people Cool Cats, and ever since, all Doug wanted was to be one of them. Could this be his moment? If he got over his fear, could he be cool and interesting and a good boy, like he wanted? The Hufflepuff sunk his teeth deeper into his lower lip and shifted in place; his fingertips had gone cold and his hands themselves were starting to shake. But if he helped…

Eventually the boy gave a small squeak of affirmation that maybe, just maybe, he knew more than the average person about the terrible creatures. “I do not like Dementors,” he said softly, somehow willing himself to still and speak more evenly. “They take happy things and make them disappear. I do not like to think…” He had to stop, but his head continued, ‘Of what they could do to me’.

The change in Doug’s demeanor was almost immediate, and Malinda worried briefly that he wouldn’t help her either. For a moment, she was sure he’d hit the deck as though there was an impending attack, but he managed to keep himself upright and still kind of functioning. And he did confirm that he might be able to help her more than the average person. She’d talked to a man in Knockturn Alley when her research had all started about his encounters with them, but most of it was said in a tone that she took as more of an embellishment to the story than the actual story. It would be nice to hear what someone who didn’t live for terrifying innocent girls had to say.

As he started to speak, Malinda had to lean in just a little bit to hear what he was saying. She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes as he stated the obvious, things she’d learned long ago and had had written down ten different ways in her notebooks. “But what gets their attention?” she asked gently, seeing that this conversation was really getting to him. “Have you ever seen one?” she continued, realising that that was probably the reason he was so shaken by her questions. 

His gaze snapped to her face and he nearly hissed, “Fear. Fear gets their attention. Fear and suffering and noise – but not noise you can make out loud.” Doug shuffled his feet, tugging at his sleeve as he tried very hard to not look her in the eye. He hated to admit that he felt bad for almost-snapping his response at her, but deep inside he knew it was warranted because he was scared. And he was scared – but his need to help was stronger than anything else at the moment.

Sometimes Doug really wished he wasn’t so nice.

There was a second part to her questioning. The Hufflepuff bit his lower lip and pressed on. “They can…they know…the noise in your mind. In your insides. They can tell when you’re thinking bad things, awful things, but also when you are thinking good.”

Doug lifted his face to hers, his puppy-eyes wide and vulnerable, but holding tight to a feeble courage he had to reach deep-down to find. “Deep in the trees, past the spiders and the Occamy nests. I found them, when I was little – but it was an accident, I swear!” For a moment Doug’s gaze was panicked, beseeching her to understand that he didn’t mean to do anything wrong. His lip quivered and his voice dropped again. “There are Dementors in the forest.” 

The forest. It was that easy. Malinda should have known, what with all the other creatures deep in the woods, but of course, it hadn’t even crossed her mind until it was right in front of her. Getting past the acromantulas was going to be a bit of a bear, but she could probably find some way around them or a few spells to help blast any away that get too close. She was taking note of the things he said, really not paying much attention to his reactions.

The additional information Doug gave her about how they’re drawn to a person gave her pause. She was always under the impression that they were only drawn to the bad, not the good as well. That would make things a little more difficult, but she was fairly certain she could still manage it. Just don’t think about anything. That would work…maybe. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her. “Doug, you have seriously given me the most helpful information today. Thank you so much,” she praised, smiling up at him, even going as far to lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re very smart, you know that?” she added, the smile on her face growing. Finally, she was getting somewhere. Some personal observations were just what she needed to get going on the next version of her potion.

Doug thought he did good. He wanted to have done good. He wanted it more than anything in the whole wide world, and yet, even as Malinda was praising him, there was a nagging in his heart of hearts that told him something was not right at all. She thought he was smart, though, she thought he was helpful. Doug’s resolve faltered, and he began to gnaw at his lower lip.

“I…thank you,” he said. He tried for a smile, but only came up with a weak lip twitch. His eyes were wary and his fingers started to twitch. Doug couldn’t stay still for very long. “You – you promise you will not do anything dumb, yes?” he asked softly. He had to make sure; his expression was earnest as he looked into her face. “I would not want you to do anything dumb. You might get hurt if you did that, and it…it would be my fault.”

Malinda didn’t notice the change in his demeanor, she thought it was still about the fact that he was having to talk about these creatures that clearly had a negative impact on him. So she adjusted her bag on her shoulder and made to leave when he stumbled over his question. It gave her pause, because she didn’t want to lie to him, but she couldn’t tell him what she was about to do because then he would try to stop her, and she definitely couldn’t have that.

She gave him a noncommittal shrug and a reassuring smile. “It wouldn’t be your fault, Doug. Anything I do, I do because it was my decision. But you don’t need to worry, okay? I’ll be fine,” she said gently, hoping he’d just take her at her word and not press into it or try to convince her not to do the thing he suspected she was about to do. Malinda didn’t really give him a whole lot of time to respond, though, before she turned on her heel and left with a quick wave.

Once she was safely out of his view, Malinda pulled her bag off her shoulder and thumbed through a few of the books in it, hoping for something, anything, to help her get through this alive. She had an arsenal of spells up her sleeve, as well as a number of potions and knick knacks from joke shops and the likes that might be of use to her. Malinda was the type to come prepared. She honestly never knew where a day was going to take her, but usually, she didn’t need everything she packed in her bag. Good thing, too, otherwise it would mean she probably got attacked on a daily basis. Today, though, it looked like a good portion of it was going to come in handy, not that she minded. At least she was prepared.

Securing her bag over her torso once again, Malinda stood and started off toward the forest, trying desperately not to let her nerves get to her. She could totally do this, just…get through the rest of the nightmare first. She nodded to herself like that would help her be more decisive in her actions, and she almost tricked herself into thinking it worked. The nerves still went through her, though. Fear, however, didn’t. She wasn’t afraid of what might be waiting in the woods for her, she was certain she’d be able to handle it, but she was worried about when she found the dementors–if she found them–and how she was going to find her way back out. 

Getting there was the easy part.

The first hundred yards or so of the forest, Malinda was familiar with. Very familiar with. She’d spent lots of her spare time in it gathering plants or reading in the low branches of a tree or writing in the brush, her back pressed to some log or another. She’d made unlikely acquaintances with a few of the centaurs that had come a little too close to the school grounds or had been on a patrol while expanding their claim on the woods. For the most part, they didn’t bother her or even really talk to her unless she was getting to close to the heart of their land, but that rarely happened. In fact, she could only really remember one time. And even then, they’d been understanding considering she’d been lost. Now, however, she was going to be walking right through their territory like it was nothing, and she wasn’t afraid. They could huff and threaten all they wanted, but Malinda was on a mission.

It was odd, though, as soon as she’d walked into their territory, things were quiet. Definitely more quiet than usual. She couldn’t really place what was wrong, but she had a bad feeling about it. A few more hundred yards in, and she still hadn’t heard rustling other than that of the wind, and she hadn’t come across any centaurs, either. That was more than strange, it was concerning. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t really heard any life at all, no birds or insects or small game. She wondered if maybe there was some spell gone wrong or everything was sleeping and tried to push past it. Something nagged in the back of her head with every step, though, that there was definitely something wrong. Sighing softly, Malinda continued to trudge on, putting her worries out of her mind. She was on a mission.

She’d probably been walking for close to an hour, and the light of day that had been shining so brightly before was starting to severely fade in the forest. It just couldn’t penetrate the thick forest, and Malinda pulled a small flashlight out of her bag, clicking it on and continuing down the rough sort of path that was laid out in front of her. It was definitely the path from an animal, but it gave her something to work with, and something to keep her off the flora on the forest floor. She wanted to leave a little damage behind her as possible. It wasn’t much longer before she was starting to see large webs covering the branches of the trees and across the path between bushes. The further she got, the more things were just covered in these massive webs, looking more like Halloween decorations than intricate spider’s webs. She felt as though eyes were on her from every direction, and honestly, they probably were, but still she marched on.

Some twigs snapped and leaves were crushed to each side of her, and she could see, in the darkness, shapes stalking her, but she kept her eyes and flashlight forward. Malinda didn’t even notice as the webs started to thin out again because the woods were becoming thicker and had more trees and less underbrush. The forest floor, now, looked like veins in every direction from the roots of the trees, and it was something amazing to behold. A large part of her wanted to stop and take notes and maybe a few pictures, but she knew that if she did, she’d probably become dinner. Just as she was thinking it, she heard a clicking sound off to her right and something tugged at her bag as it laid against her hip. Her heart started to race and she pulled her wand out before she could think and shouted stupefy at whatever it was. As she opened her eyes, she watched as the stunned body of what was easily the largest goddamned spider she had ever seen in her life go flying back. There was more rustling after that, and Malinda didn’t linger to see what was going to happen. Her heart jump started her feet, and she took off like a bullet, doing her best not to trip on just about every root in her path. A few time she stumbled, but she managed to make it almost a football field before face planting, her foot hooked on a root as her face smacked into another one.

Her head rang from the impact, and she looked around, wondering where the flashlight had gone when she’d fallen since it wasn’t in her hand anymore. The scurrying was still behind her, but still far enough in the distance that she could take a second or two and regain her composure before taking off again. It wasn’t long enough to look for the light, but she still had her wand. As she started running, she pulled her wand out and lit it, going for as bright of a light as she could manage, needing to see as much of the ground at once as possible. She ran for as long as she could, her legs numb by the time she came to a stop against a giant, gnarled tree, leaning against it for support and panting heavily.

Malinda looked around at her new surroundings, and it, honestly, didn’t look much different than before except what she thought before was quite was as loud as a rock concert compared to the silence that surrounded her now. Each move she made from this moment on was deliberate. She knew she was getting close. Her head still throbbed, and as she touched her forehead, her hand came away slick, though with the lack of lighting, she could only assume it was blood. She smelled the liquid and turned her nose up at the metallic scent as she wiped her hand on her jeans. Yes, she was bleeding, yes, she was in pain, no, she wasn’t going anywhere. Not when she was this close. As she stepped around the tree, she was careful not to make any noise. She forced her breathing to slow and become nearly silent, and she was very careful about where she stepped, not wanting to bring attention to herself.

There, before her, were more trees, but there was a stream of light that managed to make it through the thick tree tops, lighting up a portion of the scene before her. There, floating around the light and in it were hooded figures draped in tattered black cloth. As she exhaled, Malinda could see her breath before her, and that was when she realised just how cold it had gotten. Adrenaline had been pumping in her system, making her oblivious to a lot of the changes around her as she’d come to a stop. Now, though, she was able to really focus and pull as much information from them as she could.

There was an odd sort of beauty to these dark creatures, how they were drawn to the small amount of light in these dark woods, how just being close to them instilled a sort of fear in her. They were terrifying, Doug hadn’t been wrong about that, but they were also amazingly beautiful creatures. Malinda knew better, though, she knew what they were also capable of. Still, she wasn’t able to resist getting a closer look. So with a tight grip on her wand, Malinda started inching closer, shivering as she continued moving into the cold front the dementors brought with them.

She would pause every time she reached the next tree, her goal being the stream of light. Dementors had no faces, and for all intents and purposes shouldn’t even be able to sense her presence. But they went deeper than senses and delved into your mind, and surely they knew she was there already. Malinda couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t attacked. Maybe because she didn’t give them a reason to? She wasn’t really intruding or bothering them, maybe they’d just let her be.

It couldn’t be that easy.

Not two seconds later did Malinda take the wrong step and snap a twig. By this point, she was well within forty feet of the dementors that swirled around the beam of light, and she hoped that the sound of the twig would just pass by and not draw attention. For a moment, she thought it would. Then the figures slowly started to move toward her, the ones that led the pack swooping in quickly, making Malinda fall to her knees in order to avoid being hit. The cold air rushed around her like a flurry, black cloth whipping about just as fast, the sound assaulting her ears. She closed her eyes to try and block it out, shrink down until they left when it felt like someone had put a vacuum up to her mouth and was trying to suck out every bit of happiness. She didn’t have the energy to open her eyes or lift her wand, and every time the feeling went away, she slumped against the tree she’d tried to cower against. It’d only be a few seconds, though, until the cold would fill her body again, and darkness would cloud her mind, taking away all the good things in the world. 

Behind her eyelids, she saw everything she loved. Her family, her friends, her home and her bedroom and all the comforts it held. She saw memories of her and her siblings, memories of Sammy. Glimpses of her fingers intertwined with PJ’s, late night conversations with May from years before things had gotten hard. Malinda was barely aware of the fact that tears were falling down her face, honestly, she was barely aware of anything until she hit the ground, crumpled up and partially on her back, the ground as cold as the air around her that settled into her bones. There was nothing but the cold. A blank slate.

He shouldn’t have let her go. He shouldn’t have let her walk away without pushing to make sure she was telling the truth. He shouldn’t have assumed the best and watched her turn and wander off to what he hoped was a completely normal day. He shouldn’t have done all these things, but now that they were done, Doug’s heart was in his throat and his eyes were round as saucers and he couldn’t get his little Hufflepuff legs to move fast enough to the place he never wanted to return to in his life. Visions of trees and spiders scratched at his memories, and suddenly, for just a flash, he was a first year again.

The darkness was tactile as the herd of eleven year olds were rushed to the edge of the black lake. There was no semblance of order amidst the bobbing heads and absent, youthful chatter. A tall, broad figure led the way, and his booming voice offered trivia about the areas of the grounds the students passed. Doug listened, wide-eyed, to every word that voice had to offer.

“The Black Lake,” it said, “is as deep as it is black. Y’know, some even say there are worlds beneath those waters. Worlds full of people we can’t even imagine, living among the sea monsters and weeds at the bottom, leading lives completely different from any of our land-based ones.”

Mop-headed even then, the boy bounced in place, the tips of his outstretched hand barely making it above the tallest student’s head in the group. “You mean like mermaids? And – and Grindylows?” Doug liked to think that it was because of this man that he had become so attached to Care of Magical creatures. He spoke so sincerely about them, it was hard for the future Hufflepuff not to pay attention.

The man began to nod, then reached a hand back to ruffle the young Doug’s hair. “Yessiree, just like them. And I’ll tell ya someth – hey!” The leader turned sharply and stormed at a pair of boys knee-deep in the lake, laughing and splashing and completely disobeying the rules.

The entire pack went silent all at once, then all of a sudden every body was rushing past Doug, shoving him back to the pack and beyond as they chattered about “punishments” and “dungeons” and “being fed to Harpies” by the man Doug had been listening to. Jabbing elbows and shoving arms pushed him further and further into the back, then onto the grass lining the Lake’s shore, then beyond and into the first stretch of trees that made up the Forbidden Forest. Doug stumbled over a tree root and landed hard on his rear, his too-big robes ripped and wrinkled all around him. Being still very young of mind, he nearly started to cry, but that’s when out of the corner of his eye, his first serious Hogwarts distraction came into play.

It was the glint of a beak, right below intelligent eyes that watched Doug from deep within the woods. Immediately Doug’s tears stops and he pushed himself onto his knees. Crawling forward a few feet, the boy reached a hand towards the beak without an ounce of fear, but the eyes disappeared deeper into the woods, as if asking the boy to follow.

And, not being the brightest especially then, Doug followed.

“Wait,” called his shrill, prepubescent voice. “I – I just want…to be your friend!” Doug jumped over a large toadstool, hiked up his robes around his waist, and pushed deeper. “Pl-please, please slow down. Birdie, I just…slow – wahhhhh!” 

As the boy went to jump over a second patch of mushrooms, a loose patch of mud came free beneath his feet and suddenly he was tumbling head-over-heels down a hill he hadn’t known was there. His mouth was full of sticks and leaves, and his arms were full of scratches, but no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, the hill just inclined sharper. Fear burst in waves through the boy’s tiny frame and tears burned ferociously at his heart. His fingers burned where Doug had tried to dig into the ground, but still, he was sliding, falling, tumbling down to the bottom of somewhere nobody would ever find him.

And then it all stopped.

Whimpering in a ball, it took the dazed boy a good few minutes to push up the courage to get himself into a standing position. Everything hurt and the world was spinning, but there he was – on his own two feet. He couldn’t see a thing around him (perhaps because of the mud in his eyes), and it was significantly colder now wherever he had rolled to. Doug put out a hand to guide himself and he shuffled himself slowly forward a bit.

“H…hello?” he cried meekly, free hand rubbing furiously at his eyes. The area still remained dark, but then again, it was night time in the middle of a forest. “I…I fell…”

Something swished across the ground behind him, and the boy whirled. “Is someone there? Please – I have to get back. I’m gonna…I’m gonna be a wizard…and I’m so scared…”

Another swishing, this time from the opposite side, as a freezing cold piece of cloth brushed his torn-up arm. Doug jumped back, right into another sweeping robe, and he let out a terrified squeal and jolted the other direction. His eyes were adjusting now and all around him he could see towering, robed figures. They had no faces. The air around them was cold as ice. And the only sensation he could feel with them near was fear.

And then, out of absolutely nowhere, the shriek of an angry bird ripped through the area and a large mass burst right through the wall of cloaked fiends. Wings as long as a Hogwarts table buffeted the air around the creatures as Doug cowered with his face in his hands. The new being snapped its beak and reared its clawed feet through the intruders, cantering in small circles around the boy, hooves falling heavily into the mulch until every last robed beast had fled elsewhere into the forest. Doug’s breath came in sharp, shallow waves and he could feel what was left of his strength fail him, shrinking with his tiny body into the earth as the yellow eyes and shining beak nudged his cheek curiously. They were the last things Doug saw before the world went dark.

Back in present-day, the Hufflepuff opened his eyes and pushed himself to move faster. Doug had been a mere boy the last time he had been in the woods, and now, years later, he was returning as a man.

Well.

Kind of.

Wand gripped tightly in his hand, Doug’s feet were a blur as he raced headlong into the forest, his normally scattered mind focused tightly on one thing and one thing only: his friend. He was embarrassed to admit how long it had taken him to clue in that he had led her straight into something that was very likely to be her doom. He was even more ashamed that if it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be in this mess, and he wouldn’t be heading straight back to where his childhood nightmares had begun.

But no matter what, he was loyal to a fault. Doug may not have been a Gryffindor, but he had a heart that could be brave if it wanted to be. He may not have been a Ravenclaw, but when someone was in need, he would use every ounce of brainpower to make sure they got back safe. He may not be a Slytherin, but – well, Doug was just glad he wasn’t a Slytherin in the first place.

I’m coming, Malinda, Doug thought to himself. His teeth were clamped tightly and his hands were clammy around his wand. This is my fault and I’m sorry, and I am going to fix it. And then an idea struck him, and the proud Hufflepuff veered off into the opposite direction Malinda would have been heading.

A few minutes later, Doug was crashing through the trees on the back of a beast with wings as long as a Hogwarts table and eyes as yellow as a candle’s flame. A sharp beak ripped and slashed at acromantula webs as they soared along, and as the hippogriff’s dagger claws tore up the underbrush, Doug sent a silent thank you to the people that taught him how strong a boy like him could be when it came to relationships with magical beasts. Stubby fingers dug into the fur-feathers at the equine’s shoulders as those words faded into the darkness, eyes squeezing tight, lips forming into an incantation just as, like many years before, the hippogriff burst through the wall of Dementors and saved the day again. 

At the last moment, Doug shoved himself from the back of the beast and pointed his wand straight at the hooded devils, looking the perfect part of a teddy bear Lancelot saving the day with a magic stick.

“Expecto…PATRONUM!!”

Searing white light burst from the tip of Doug’s humble want, illuminating the clearing in vibrant streaks of silver magic that quickly wrapped around the Dementors and immediately started to push them back. A large tangle of magic started to weave together to form a great, bounding shape. Four paws emerged, then a sweeping tail, then finally a wrinkled muzzle set below a pair of floppy, pressed-back ears. White, glowing teeth snapped vivid sparks into the darkness; Doug butt-scooted his way back from their length until he ran into the limp, cold form of his Gryffindor friend.

The massive retriever lowered its head and snapped again, then slowly, one paw at a time began to advance on the remaining dark beings in the clearing. Its hackles started to raise and its teeth seemed to lengthen with every step. Then, without any warning, the Patronus leaped at the Dementor nearest to it and shredded its maw through its robes. A second later, it bounded to the second, then the third, then all around the circle of black cloaks until every Dementor had taken to the sky and was fleeing as fast as they could go. Once its job was done, the golden – or silver – retriever cocked its head at its caster and sat heavily at his side, easing into a lying position that half-curled its body around the unconscious girl. 

Memories of his friends still flooding his mind, Doug leaned over Malinda’s limp body and could not suppress the whimper of fear that left his lips. With just that one sound, the silvery dog flickered and vanished. The hippogriff clucked its beak at the sudden darkness and took the Patronus’s place.

“Oh…” Doug whispered. “What have I done?” He glanced wide-eyed over at his equine companion, lower lip quivering. In response, the beast lowered itself to the ground, bowing its head in permission. The boy slipped his robes off clumsily and wrapped them tightly around the girl, then used what little strength he had left to hoist her onto the space between the great beast’s wings. Doug ripped a portion of one of sleeves off and used it to awkwardly tie the girl to the creature, then wobbled to his feet himself. His mind was clear, almost as clear as it had been when he had gotten his warning letters from the school, and in the moment he knew every action counted.

What felt like an eternity later, Doug half-sprinted, half-stumbled into the Care of Magical Creatures cottage and grabbed the nearest teacher he could find. He gasped, “Birdie. Down,” and the hippogriff obliged, almost immediately taking flight as soon as the Gryffindor was free. Normally Doug would have waved goodbye, but this time he followed as Malinda was half-dragged towards the castle, all the while trying to get a thought to leave his already panic-jumbled mind.

Doug didn’t know if she was alive.

Malinda might have been dead.

Doug might have killed one of the only true friends he’d ever had.

And it was all his fault.