Patronus Secundus

Sparrow had not been able to call her dreams necessarily sweet, that particular night. The mountain of bones remained, and she found herself at the top of it, as ever. But this time, Jill was there with her and Jocasta, and they were able to sit together and say little, watching not Jill’s hellfire plain, nor the weird and twisted woods of Jocasta’s realm, but Sparrow’s bright and beautiful landscape – at least before it went up in flames, as usual. That itself was sweet.

And then her dreams had faded into what was now unusual for her – the disconnected, symbolic jumble that anyone else would have called ordinary. Something about being pursued by a carnivorous sock, and then something involving a bumblebee visiting a flower, which, when Sparrow blinked away, she hoped wasn’t symbolic of what it meant to most people.

What was sweetest of all, of course, was to wake in the arms of her beloveds.

She was tempted, as ever, to lie there as she liked. But for now, there was her recitation to complete. She struggled out of their embrace, climbing over Jocasta to reach her wand, thinking that the end of this business couldn’t come soon enough.

...

And then there was the business of the day to attend to.

"You seem to have made less progress on your O.W.L. work than the previous week," said Longbottom, folding his hands upon his desk. "Though some of you –" He glanced at Wren and then at Miranda – "are at least seemingly making progress in the areas Budge here asked you to."

Professor Budge, in the same chair he’d been for last week’s meeting, looked eagerly at Wren. "Show me then lad," he said. "Let me see what you’ve made."

Wren looked annoyed at Budge’s words, but they drew a small leather bag out of their pocket and emptied its contents into their palm. A small pile of rings and earrings, engraved with runes that glowed bright enough for Sparrow to see from where she stood.

Fewer in number than she’d remembered, though.

"I will be asking you for a proper demonstration this evening," said Budge. He looked to Miranda. "And you?"

The cloth of Miranda’s pocket had been failing to fully obscure the light shining through it. She drew out a glass vial that emitted a white light near as bright as the sun, forcing everyone in the room to shield their eyes. "Sorry," said Miranda. The light disappeared, and Sparrow blinked the spots out of her vision, seeing once more the glow through Miranda’s pocket. "I’ve clearly got it to be more powerful," said Miranda, "only, making enough for us all within a week will be difficult. It could take all of my time." She gave an apologetic look to Iphis. "I...might be taken away from my studies."

Iphis did not glower at her, but at Budge. "A time-consuming business, this."

"I’m tempted to suggest you speed up the potion progress," said Sparrow, "but asking that thing down in the caverns for extra-special potion ingredients is clearly a bad idea."

"Thing?" said Professor Longbottom.

"Lower tunnels," growled Budge.

"Sparrow," said Jill, "why on earth did you feel the need to reveal that?"

Sparrow crossed her arms. "You didn’t tell me it was a secret!"

"It is apparently a secret to everybody," grumbled Jocasta. "Which probably means it’s not officially forbidden in the text of the school rules. Is that correct, Professor Budge?"

Budge glowered at Jocasta, then at Sparrow. "One could interpret the rule of keeping to safe areas as applying to unexplored underground caverns," said Budge, "especially considering that even if such areas are not magical, they are famously dangerous for explorers magical and not. One could also interpret your actions as exiting school grounds. My my, what transgressions you all feel entitled to make."

Sparrow winced. She had certainly been overstepping bounds, these past few months, and not only the unfairly-set ones.

"But that is McGonagall’s way of thinking," said Budge, "and hers to judge if either I or Professor Longbottom decide to divulge this latest indiscretion."

Longbottom shrugged. "I remain a bit of a rapscallion, as I wound up being in my youth."

"You severely undersell your youthful heroism," said Budge. At a pointed look from Longbottom, he cleared his throat. "Which you have the right to do, given the circumstances of that whole mess. Anyway. Given the nature of what you met down there, Sparrow, I think it would behoove you to engage in further Patronus practice with me this evening. And you, McKinnon, I want to put you through some paces as well."

"I’ve really been meaning to practice the switching spell," said Wren. "We really have to make sure our O.W.L. practice is coming along properly."

"You can cram in extra study later," said Budge. "Hogsmeade is a more urgent issue."

Wren looked mournfully at Iphis. Iphis was not looking at Wren, though, only glaring at Budge. "W’ve had too many missed days lately. You threaten to put us in a pretty pickle here."

"There are plenty of people in a pickle right now," said Budge. "I don’t need any further objections from you, unless you think you’ve already become part of the faculty."

Jocasta snorted. "Sparrow has."

"Enough!" said Budge. "Sparrow, meet me in study room 307 at 8 sharp." He rose and swept out of the room.

…

Over the course of that morning’s study and the afternoon’s acrobatic practice, Sparrow wondered about the mysterious voice she’d encountered yesterday. It was distracting enough that she clipped her knee on a spinning tree branch a couple times, which brought her back to reality swiftly – but then as soon as practice was over, and she was catching her breath in McGonagall’s office, she continued to wonder. The Thing In The Basement was vulnerable to patronuses, was that it? Well, having a corporeal manifestation of hope was surely an antidote to taunting torment. But was the thing down there an active danger, like dementors and lethifolds? Or was it just taking the piss?

"Torment can be enough of a danger anyway," said Jill, as she sat with Sparrow on a stone bench outside Study room 307. "Especially to Wizards. Especially to Wizards like us. If you’d been down there when I’d gone –"

"My goose would have been cooked," said Sparrow. "I get that now. I’m not completely invincible. Yet."

"Thank goodness for that," said Jill. "Otherwise you might not need me!"

"Oh, I could bestride the mighty world like a colossus." said Sparrow. She rested her hand on Jill’s. "But I would still want you."

Jill’s face turned a darker shade.

Sparrow’s pocket went ding, and she pulled her watch out. 7:59. "Talking of fire, I was going to ask if you wanted to, ah, give me some of yours?"

Jill giggled, leaning down to Sparrow. "When do I not? Come here."

...

And so Sparrow marched into the study room thirty seconds past time, with quite a bit more energy filling her than a few minutes before. There stood Professor Budge, looking peeved. "You do realize I could hear what you were doing?"

Sparrow stood before Professor Budge, straight and tall as she could manage. "Just getting myself ready, Professor. In case I go off bang again."

"You are not going to go off bang again," said Budge, "because I am not going to permit you to use that blasted Magical Sign Language. It’s bad enough when one of ordinary power level uses it. Like people in my regular classes, such as a certain young master Aguirre, whom I think you know? He managed to cause serious injury to himself and a fellow student with a simple stunning spell. Blasted the both of them through multiple desks in opposite directions. I usually don’t need to inform my students of Newton’s laws of motion."

"He had decent control of his power the last time I saw him use it," said Sparrow, sitting herself down at a desk. "Maybe...maybe he’s like Jill? With his life stifled and his talents oppressed for too long. And it’s just showing now."

"I will take that into account for assigning him a suitable detention," said Budge. He glanced at the door. "We are missing someone, though. Perhaps you are able to tell me where master McKinnon is?"

"I ain’t nobody’s master," said a voice from an empty space behind Budge, causing him to jump. "And nobody’s mine, by golly. As long as the Thunderbird flies." Wren appeared out of thin air, a grin on their face. "Howdy."

Budge looked more impressed than disturbed. "Have you been practicing the invisibility charm, then? That’s advanced stuff, but I wouldn’t put it past you and Sparrow’s crew."

Wren shook their head. They held up a hand, a golden ring on the middle finger, engraved with glowing runes. "I don’t have to master nothin’ if I can just carve it into gold and wear it." The glow quickly faded. "Gotta throw this thing into fire again if I want to recharge it though. I gotta figure out how to get it to keep a longer charge."

Sparrow raised an eyebrow. "I have read a story that warns of a very similar ring."

"Where do you think I got the idea?" said Wren with a wink.

Budge cleared his throat. "Right, yes, your talents in such a field are indeed why I have called you here this evening. But first, I would like you to observe what Sparrow and I have discovered regarding the learning of the Patronus spell. Sparrow, if you would please attempt to cast a Patronus?"

Sparrow leapt to her feet, shaking her wand out of her sleeve. She raised it high and concentrated on the memory of proposing to her girlfriends. Someday they were going to be married for real and they would be together forever and take the world by storm and it would be a blast. "Expecto Patronum!"

Out of Sparrow’s wand sprang the silvery humanoid figure, floating motionless, features as blank as before. Wren looked up at it with their jaw hanging open.

"You haven’t gotten rusty in the past week," said Budge. "That’s good."

"You just got this last week?" said Wren. "And...last week was your first practice?"

Sparrow nodded.

"This isn’t supposed to be that easy. How did you manage?"

"What Budge theorized and I demonstrated," said Sparrow. "It’s gotta be not just a happy memory, but a soul-building one. A memory of something that gives you solid hope for your own future. A can-do-attitude. You know?"

"Ah ha." Wren tore their gaze from the Patronus, and gave Sparrow a wry look. "Bet I know what your memory involves, eh? Or who?"

Sparrow giggled. "Not hard to guess."

"You haven’t made any further progress though," said Budge. "Have you been practicing?"

Sparrow sheepishly shook her head. "I’ve been really distracted."

"We are running out of time," said Budge, scowling at Sparrow. "You need to at least make your patronus mobile by next week. I would have thought you’d gotten anywhere by now, but oh, you’ve been too busy, going out of bounds, teaching forbidden subjects –"

"And you’ve been getting snippy with me lately," said Sparrow. "We used to get along so well and now you’re being mean and I don’t know why. What’s gotten into you?"

"I could ask what’s gotten into you," said Budge, "but as I have witnessed your increasingly lax attitude toward the rules and customs of this school, I suppose I do not need to ask. If McGonagall had asked for my input regarding the consequences she set for your transgressions, I would have objected, for in being removed from a daily schedule, you have been removed from discipline –"

"Are you saying there was any other way?" said Wren.

"Perhaps not," growled Budge. "This is the pickle you all put yourselves in. I honestly do not think you are handling it well."

Sparrow shrank in her seat. "Do you...not believe in me anymore?"

"I have always believed in your abilities," said Budge. "I rarely meet anyone as capable or clever. Your judgment, however, I would put on the level of Gelert Grindlewald."

Sparrow felt cold.

"For what it’s worth," said Wren, "when it comes to the biggest decisions our crew can make, we take a vote, and Sparrow has respected the decisions we have made. She knows the captain can’t take the ship anywhere if the crew won’t send it there."

Budge closed his eyes, and sighed. "Yes, and that particular matter is another example of what worries me." He opened his eyes, glaring at Sparrow. "Professor Longbottom described to me how he described you and your friends as a crew as a metaphor, and you have since taken it literally. To the extent of taking votes and giving orders. And obeying them! It...I will be perfectly frank, Sparrow, it feels almost like your own little cult."

Sparrow felt her heart skip a beat. Budge wasn’t wrong.

"We’re engaged in work," said Wren, "not worship. And if we hold a vote for a new captain, we have a new captain. It would only be a cult if Sparrow disobeyed the results and demanded everyone keep following her and we all forgot about the vote. It’s a pirate crew, Professor, we have standards."

Budge had a faraway look in his eyes. He sighed, then pulled a chair away from a desk and sat down in it heavily. "Look. I’m not privy to all of the details of why McGonagall suspended you. She said that there were aspects that had to remain confidential among the children and adults who were present at your little meeting in the Dragon Tower, for everyone’s safety. But what she did tell me was that, whatever extremely illegal course you had set yourselves upon, it was...specifically for the sake of limiting your ambitions, for being able to ask the entire world if they actually desired what you offered. Which I had to have explained to me twice, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I’ve been here and there across the world and I have never heard of someone being so...democratic about their wild plans."

"Well here we are," murmured Sparrow.

"The pirate stuff should feel less surprising now," said Wren.

"It is what I keep reminding myself," said Budge. "That you are all trying to be nice about this. Insane, perhaps, but nice. All six of your crew have hearts of gold and wills of iron, which would be dangerous enough without all that extra power you’re slinging around."

"Desperately trying to keep a lid on," said Sparrow.

"Not doing a good job of it," said Wren.

"I should finish," said Budge. "Hearts of gold, wills of iron, and, increasingly, the arrogance of, again, Gelert Grindlewald. I have been getting more angry with you, Sparrow, because I see your caution and common sense slipping, in a time when I need to know that you and your friends are actually going to listen to me when I give you instructions. I am becoming disappointed because...because in the coming struggle, I am beginning to think that I shouldn’t have your crew along. But at the same time, given what I have studied of the Hogsmeade situation, failing to take you along could cost me my life.

Sparrow gasped.

"And if the worst comes to pass," said Budge, "you will of course blame yourself forever, and I don’t want to see that happen."

"I mean you wouldn’t," said Wren.

"I would become a ghost and haunt Sparrow forever," said Budge. "But it’s not just all that." He leant back in his chair, looking weary. "I have taken some comfort in our rapport, Sparrow, as you have. I have admired your talent and your ambition, I have always been pleased to see your progress. But now, as you go further, into the territory that belongs to adults, you don’t seem to consider asking any adults for help, only begging their forgiveness. You never asked me for help."

"You...support bringing down the Statute?"

"Have I ever spoke against it?" said Budge.

"You...haven’t exactly been stopping us," said Sparrow, "even though you could. Maybe."

"Maybe." Budge stroked his chin. "Maybe. I could not break Sparrow’s shield, I could not quench Jill’s fire, I could not prevent Jocasta’s evasion, I could not second-guess Miranda’s creativity, I could not match Iphis’ knowledge, I could not match Cormac’s craft –" Wren winced, though Budge continued without noticing. "– but magical power is not all the power in the world. I could certainly employ politics." He sat up straight and eyed Sparrow. "Political reality is something you’ve been fumbling towards yourself, as I have seen, but you’re not ready for it yet. It’s more twisted and winding than a straightforward lass like yourself would anticipate."

"I’m naïve," said Sparrow. "I get it."

"As for the political reality I have seen," said Budge, "in my journeys across the world, I have seen people struggling just to get by. I have seen famine, and death, and destruction, and misery, and...and I have tried to help wherever I thought I could get away with it. I have tried to enlist any local Wizards, if any are left, to aid me quietly."

Sparrow sat up straight, eyes wide. "And?"

Budge shrugged. "Some places, where they’re alone, they’re willing. Many places, where they’re a community, they turn away in fear, for the Statute is strong within their traditions, and the fear of larger Wizarding governments remains in their hearts. I have had to work alone for so often."

"I don’t get it," said Wren. "It ain’t like that were I’m from. What gives?"

"Wizarding America has no central government left to enforce anything," said Budge. "The decision of the Continental Magical Congress to have its capital in D.C. was a poor choice when the bomb fell, was it not?"

"Ooh," said Wren. "Yeah, that would explain a lot."

"We’d get more traction in North America then," said Sparrow.

"We’re getting off-track," said Budge. "My point to you and your friends is that you are at a difficult age. It is an age of certain things beginning, things working differently than before, people treating you differently than before –"

"I know what puberty is," said Sparrow.

"I am referring to the social aspect of aging," said Budge. "You begin to pull away from your elders and establish your own identities –"

"Some of us were forced to do so far too early," said Sparrow.

"The point is, it’s an age where you simultaneously want to eschew your elders and need their advice for proper guidance in tricky situations. You need to be able to ask the advice of more experienced people, because there’s no manual for aging. Not even Iphis could find one."

"Bet you five knuts he could," said Wren.

"Five galleons says he couldn’t," said Budge. "No, there’s no manual for aging, and there’s especially no manual for trying to get an entire society to change. You really need to be asking your elders for guidance here. Ultimately, I am mostly hurt that you never thought to ask me."

"I asked you for security measures at the ball," said Sparrow. "Otherwise I wasn’t going to be asking any teacher for specific aid. Longbottom got roped in because one of us could not operate without maintaining her honor, Clearwater got involved because it’s her job to look out for people, McGonagall, we couldn’t very well ask her expertise for our illegal plans –"

"Her expertise?" said Budge. "Let me guess, you’re trying to become Animagi."

Sparrow winced. "Why does everyone guess so easily?"

"Because you run your mouth too much," said Wren. "Anyway, Professor, you’re the first actual elder who has seemed to be actually volunteering for our insane mission. You’re in then?"

"I will not officially endorse you," said Budge. "Whether I coincidentally aid you surreptitiously depends upon your performance in our coming battle."

"Then we ought to get back to the actual practice," said Wren. "Please?"

Sparrow chuckled nervously and Budge looked sheepish. "Right," said Sparrow, "we got carried away, didn’t we?" She raised her wand once more and focused on her most hopeful memory. "Expecto Patronum!" And out of the wand came once more the floating human figure.

Budge, gazing up at it, nodded in satisfaction. "You’ve got it consistent, at least. I suggest you keep practicing as much as you can over this week."

"Like that will help," grumbled Sparrow.

"Wait," said Wren. "Maybe –"

"Yes?" Budge turned to Wren. "What do you have to offer then, boy?"

Wren winced at the sound of that final word. "I...have to point out that I feel pretty stupid for failing to explain myself about certain things, but –"

"It’s up to you," said Sparrow. "Nobody else."

"What is?" said Budge.

"Never mind never mind," said Wren, "I’m not the focus here, leave it aside for now. Look, you’re being hard on Sparrow for not working hard, but the way you described improving the spell, you were, like, refining its motivation. Right? So if you want to actually get it to work better, you have to find an area of motivation that you haven’t tested yet. Like, I don’t know, disgust, spite –"

"Positive emotions only," said Budge. "I don’t want to know what a patronus powered by spite would look like." He frowned. "Wait. Maybe I do."

"With a proper shield spell at the ready," said Sparrow. "But you’re right, Wren, we have to work smarter and not harder. So...what am I missing? We’ve got the happiness, we’ve got the hope..."

"How seriously do you take either one though?" said Budge. "I think we established earlier this year that stronger emotion can produce stronger spell effects. If you are...more serious about your happy memory? Strange as it is to say ‘serious happiness’."

"Sincerity," said Sparrow. She raised her wand again, and concentrated on her happiest memory. Only this time, she did not cast the spell aloud. ⋄⋄_{EXPECTO PATRONUM!} ⋄⋄

This time, what sprang forth from the wand was not a blank figure floating motionless, but a feminine figure with clearly-defined fingers, and toes, and two great insect wings, and – human eyes, staring down at her, through the air that shimmered between them.

Kneeling, to tap her lightly on the nose.

Sparrow flinched backward at the unexpected touch, the patronus vanishing as her brain struggled to comprehend the feeling. The closest comparison she could make was that it was to her skin what a tart fruit was to her tongue. She shivered, giggling, collapsing back into a chair. "Ah ha ha ha, ha, ha, uhhhh…" She shook her head. "Was it supposed to do that?"

Wren was staring at the space where the patronus had been, starry-eyed. They shook their head slowly.

Budge looked equally bewildered. "I have never," he whispered, "in all of my travels, ever seen a patronus act mischievous. I have never seen it act independently. Not even from what I witnessed in Tibet."

"We have a positive result then," said Sparrow.

"Which only raises more questions," said Budge, sitting down at a desk, looking like he was losing himself in thought.

Wren was leaning over a desk, supporting their weight on one arm, equally bewildered. "Didn’t...didn’t Ivy say something about the wands being alive?"

Sparrow nodded.

Wren looked up. They stood straight, and shook their wand out of their sleeve. They raised it high. ∫∫∫∫∫∫ EXPECTO PATRONUM! ∫∫∫∫∫∫

What came out of the end of their wand was no mere wisp, nor even a great silvery cloud as Sparrow had made, but a cat – Do cats even need wings?a cat bearing the wings of an owl. It flapped its wings without a sound, then, folding them back, prowled toward Wren, and, with an audible purr, rubbed its cheek against Wren’s. Wren shrieked and giggled, collapsing back into a chair as the Patronus vanished. "Success! Result replicated!"

"Replicated better than my own efforts," said Sparrow. She turned to Professor Budge. "Well, sir, it appears your theories are right on the money."

Budge had his eyes closed as he took a deep breath in. "That is...correct, it seems."

"You could teach this to all your classes!" said Wren. "This is great! Talk about a breakthrough! We’ll put our names on it!"

"I...cannot be certain of that," said Budge, "without further testing. And your...extremely rare talents, regarding the sending of psychic messages – you mentioned sincerity?"

"The Sending will admit nothing that one does not fully believe," said Sparrow. "It’s a whisper of the heart, and all that."

"A shortcut to sincerity," said Wren.

"Yes," said Budge. "I would assume you even have that shortcut available to you because your little...pirate crew...are already a pack of drama queens." He raised his hands to ward off any objections. "Or truly sincere and heartfelt, I will grant, enough to seemingly invent a new type of magic from sheer emotion alone, if the reports of Jocasta’s peril are accurate?"

"True love is magic," said Wren.

"Certainly enough tales of such," said Budge, "and I will tell you, across the world, I’ve even seen it a few times. But...the circumstances of all your lives, raising enough magical power within each of you to power such things...I would hope that no one else experiences them."

Sparrow grimaced. What she’d seen of Wilhelmina and heard of Inigo gave lie to that hope.

"And another thing," said Budge, rising to his feet to stand over Sparrow. "The aspect of finding a character-building memory strong enough to make this method work. Not all in this world have such character, nor such drive as to consider how they will build themselves. I wish there were more like you, Miss Jones. You have improved yourself immensely this year, in spite of your rule-breaking."

"Or because of it?" said Wren.

Budge sighed. "I will even admit that it may be because of it. And you ask well, Master McKinnon. I only regret that you and your friends could not have remained in my regular class."

"Master," grumbled Wren. "Dagnabbit, I already told you that one doesn’t work."

"Of course." Budge rolled his eyes. "You are a Wild and Free American Cowboy."

"That’s part of it!" said Wren. "But not the biggest part." They rose to their feet, meeting Budge’s gaze with a defiant look. "Would you like me to tell you what my most effective memory was?"

Budge looked intrigued. "I...would not presume to ask, such things can be terribly personal."

"I bet I know," said Sparrow. "I bet it involves Iphis."

"In a way!" said Wren. "Not the one you’re thinking of, my friend, though that one’s in the top three!" They rummaged in their pocket and drew out the leather bag, depositing its contents into their palm, donning nine of the rings and shoving everything else back into their pocket. "Cast your best stunning spell at me, Professor."

Budge pointed to himself, raising his eyebrows.

Wren nodded eagerly.

Budge looked worried. "My best stunner? My best stunner? You do realize who you’re talking to?"

"No pain no gain," said Wren, with an insane grin spread across their face. They opened their arms wide. "Hit me!"

Budge cast a nervous glance at Sparrow, who felt as nervous as he looked. But she also wanted to see what this "best stunner" even was. So she nodded slowly.

Professor Budge waved his wand behind his head, causing the air behind him to shimmer. "May Newton’s third law be merciful upon me." He planted his feet to brace himself, then pointed his wand into the air. He muttered an incantation under his breath, rotating his arm to draw a large ring of red light in the air. Then he took a deep breath, and shouted, "STUPEFY!"

What erupted towards Wren was not the simple red beam of a normal stunning spell. It was an immense red column, striking straight at them – raising a flash of golden light as it smashed into a great golden shield spell that sprang into existence.

When Sparrow blinked the spots of light out of her eyes, she could see Professor Budge lying against the wall, looking weary, and against the opposite wall, Wren, rubbing a spot on the back of their head. And giggling. "When it works, it works!" They looked at the rings on their fingers, and pouted. "Aw man, that used up the whole charge."

"So you don’t need the triage," said Sparrow. She ran over to Professor Budge, who was picking himself up off the ground. "You alright?"

"Should’ve done this outside," groaned Budge.

"What the heck do you deal with that needs THAT big a stunning spell?"

"And can you teach us how to do that?" said Wren.

"I only use that one to escape krakens," said Budge. "You two would probably punch a hole in the atmosphere if you tried it."

"Jill would," said Sparrow.

Budge gave Wren a pointed look. "So what exactly was the purpose of this demonstration, lad?"

"Dammit," said Wren, "not lad! That’s what I’m getting at here!" They sprang to their feet, holding their hands up, palms out, to display their rings. "You see these things? I made them! With my own two hands and the sage advice of the people I love! That is what I am, that is who I am! The artificer! I build things, and I build myself!" They hopped up onto a desk, staring down at Budge. "My most soul-building memory is of standing upon a high rooftop and shouting to all the world the name I have chosen! I am WREN!"

Silence rang, as Budge seemed to be taking a few seconds to process this information.

"And neither lad nor lass," said Wren, sheepishly descending from the desk. "Neither sir nor madam, neither master nor mistress. You get it?"

Budge frowned. "Why didn’t you make this clear at this morning’s meeting?"

"I like my dramatic moments, and Longbottom’s office wasn’t it."

"Fascinating." Budge raised his eyebrows briefly. "Well, Wren, congratulations, and also I commend you on your craft. If you can make enough of those rings for all your friends in time – and if you need gold, ask me, you’re not going down into those tunnels again – then we will stand in even better stead for the coming task. As for your coming out, we might need to have the same discussion that I had with Iphis."

"Do not ask me about that," said Wren. "Are we done here?"

Budge sighed. "I think we’ve hit a decent place to pause for this evening," said Budge. "If you can improve the amount of charge on your rings, let me know. Let’s be taking our rest then. You two are dismissed."

Sparrow departed in higher spirits than she’d expected. Also in one piece, which she hadn’t been sure of.

And here was Jill, sitting on the stone bench by the door. Sparrow waved goodbye to Wren and Budge, and threw herself down on the bench beside her girlfriend. "Have you been waiting here the whole time?"

Jill nodded.

"How much of that talk did you hear?"

Jill grimaced. "Budge isn’t wrong. I feel quite a bit arrogant for my own outbursts."

"Don’t," said Sparrow. "They aren’t your fault."

Jill sighed. "It is difficult to say. But, on a more positive note, I did hear what you all were saying about advanced Patronus theory. And I’ve got some ideas of what memory to use." She grinned. "They might involve you."

"Bet I know what it is," said Sparrow. "Bet Jocasta’s in it too."

Jill chuckled. "Well. There’s going to be plenty more of those as we go on, I’m sure of that." She rose, and took Sparrow by the hand. "Like tonight, if you like."

Sparrow sprang off the bench, and the two of them departed, Sparrow feeling greater confidence in the future than she had in many weeks.