𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓟𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼: ǟ ʀɛǟʟɨȶʏ ֆɦɨʄȶɨռɢ ȶǟʟɛ ✤ ֆɛʋɛʀʊʂ ҳ օƈ

A Sᴏᴜʟ Nᴏᴛ Sᴏ Dɪsᴛᴀɴᴛ

Stepping into the familiar, torch-lit chamber of their fellow members, a silvery light caught their attention. A stag Patronus trotted about the room, then came to a halt at Harry's side, lifting its chin high, the antlers a beacon of strength.

Harry raised his wand. "Wands out."

Everyone lifted their wands, waiting. "Close your eyes. Relive your happiest memory."

Drifting her eyelids with gravity, Felicity breathed deeply, picturing her adventures with Luna. The time when they first met by accident: where a second-year Felicity had failed on a potion she had invented in an attempt to impress Snape, and then Luna emerged into her dorm wanting to view the burnt remnants beneath a microscope for fun. Or the time they felt powerful energy bind them as they dueted that fall, with their melodies captivating the engaged audience. Then the time in Felicity's third year that they and the trio comforted Hagrid with a plan to save Buckbeak the hippogriff from execution. While Harry and Hermione went back in time, the two distracted the rest of the curious school with Ravenclaw riddles.

"Expecto Patronum."

But which memory to choose from? All of them warmed her heart. So which one burned the true beacon? She opened her eyes to find two more Patronuses drifting about the room. A blurry swan paddled in invisible waters around Cho, and Lavender puffed silver light from hers, the wisps twisting and dancing, but not quite into anything recognizable.

Felicity studied her Cedarwood wand, then closed her eyes once more. The true beacon . . . the flame . . . flame within my soul . . . Her shoulders dropped in relaxation, breathing deeply. In, and out. In, and out.

Snape emerged, his black cloak swirling behind him as he pushed Felicity's outstretched vial of Felix Felicis back to her side. His curling grin whenever she spoke of the relation between auras and potion-making.

Severus wrapped one arm around her waist, tucking the stray daffodil back into her weave in the most tender manner. When she let all go . . . and followed her inner spirit. Reclining into his chest as he held her, noses almost touching, her eyes fluttering, lips aching to kiss the wizard who healed her. To kiss the protector. The one who made her feel love.

No, I can't . . . he doesn't return. . .

'Look. At. Me.'

In her memory, she gazed into his night sky eyes. Letting go. Filling in the memory with what she truly wished occurred.

Let go . . .

The two conflicted souls leaned in, hooked nose ticking her small nose. Her back pressed deeper into his chest as his arms tightened around her waist, hands spreading the weight against her stomach. Aching necks, lost black eyes, lost dark brown ones, all vanishing the potion tables, the stone walls, the candles.

Severus parted his lips. "Always . . . Love."

Felicity tilted her chin, then nudged her lips against his parted mouth. The cold, dry lips drifted against her own. Flicking her eyes upward, beyond his hooked nose, those midnight orbs leaked a tear, splashing onto her nose.

Let go . . .

Severus angled his head, then pressed his lips to hers.

Expecto Patronum.

Silver hues illuminated beyond her eyelids. Fluttering them open, she backed into the torch-lit wall. The wand quivered in her fingers, as if confused of its own deed. Sprouting a silvery trail from its tip, the creature echoed a surreal physique as it pawed a hoof in the air.

The D.A. members approached her with awe, forming a circle around the Patronus and its caster.

Tears rained from her eyes. She clutched her quartz necklace, cradling it against herself as if it was the last remnant of familiarity.