The Grim ➸ R. Weasley

The Speech

    
       
After Jamie was released from the Hospital Wing it was like he was Hogwarts new celebrity. Everyone wanted to talk to him, ask him how he had stunned the Dementors — turns out he didn't kill them, just petrified for a couple of hours— and he told them all the same answer. He faced them one on one, it probably wouldn't have worked if he faced multiple at a time (they probably would have overpowered him), he let them make him feel terrible things, let him relive terrible moments, then just as they started to feed on that darkness he thought of happy thoughts, of light. It worked like poison, the light entered them and knocking them out cold.

He used his sudden popularity to spread the message of L.D.I.W (Learning disorders in witches and wizards). Not everyone wanted to sit down and listen to his preaching of muggle studies, all they wanted to hear about was the Dementor incident, but some listened and even promised they would become part of the cause.

He knew he lacked a way with words, but Gregory sure did not. Gregory would be the one to really put a start to their cause. His speech was scheduled to be the first Sunday of February, a date Jamie and McGonagall worked out so no Quidditch practices or games would interrupt or take attention away them.

In the mean time they worked on banners, and pin designs. Gregory and Vincent worked on speeches (Gregory writing them, Vincent spell checking for him). Jamie worked on different variations of the spell, trying to find out ways to change small details without setting the page aflame, and whenever he wasn't working on that he started a new project: enchanted ink, once someone finished a sentence (the sentence has to end for the magic to actually work) any incorrectly spelled words will change color, or if the sentence doesn't make sense, it would turn a bright pink. The enchanted ink blew up in his face — quite literally — multiple times, but he was not about to abandon the idea, it could help alot of people — even people without a learning disorder.

Whenever he was not working for the campaign, he was working with Professor Lupin, learning how to cast a proper patronus. His little trick — as Lupin had said — would only get him so far and he was lucky to have survived so many the first time — saying how he might not be so lucky the second time.

Jamie tugged on his leather jacket and exited the Slytherin common room, and went on his way to the history of magic classroom (where their sessions were held). It was a Saturday morning and as much as Jamie would have loved to sleep in, he knew he didn't have that option. After his session with Lupin he was supposed to met up with Dean Thomas to see how his banner was coming along then he would have to work more on the enchanted ink.

"Professor?" Jamie called, pushing open the classroom doors. The floor was empty, all chairs and tables were pressed against the far wall. A trunk sat in the direct middle of the classroom, Professor Lupin stood next to it, head buried in a deep in a book he held.

"For today's session—" Lupin cut himself, eyes widening at the sight of Jamie. His mouth opened and closed, words failing him. He looked like a just saw a ghost for the first time.

"Professor?" Jamie asked, confused, his nose wrinkling.

Professor Lupin cleared his throat and blinked hard. "Sorry, you just looked like someone I once knew."

"Was that someone my father?" Jamie asked, then paused, images floating behind his minds eye. They were blurry and unclear, only faint memories of a child, whenever he tried to grasp at the memories they only floated further away. Like he was reaching for smoke. The only thing he could make out was a faint voice. "I can't take him, I would but. . ."

"Yes." Professor Lupin answered, looking like he would rather be anywhere else at that moment.

Jamie hesitantly took off the jacket and examined it. "This was my dad's, wasn't it?"