While Draco was clashing with those Gryffindors, things on the other side were far livelier—and far more harmonious.
The disturbance Draco had caused barely drew any attention. Every eye was fixed instead on the stag standing before Harry Potter.
Its broad antlers, elegant form, and the constant shimmer of mysterious silver light radiating from its body captured the young wizards' hearts at once.
Compared to the Fiendfyre Curse, which could also take shape but carried an unmistakable sense of danger, the Patronus Charm felt gentle and reassuring.
And in essence, it wasn't a dangerous Charm at all…
"That's incredible, Harry! How did you do it?"
"I didn't even know you could cast that. Is there some kind of trick?"
"Can I touch it? Harry, I've never seen magic this beautiful."
"That's amazing, Harry!"
Once the initial shock wore off, the young wizards eagerly crowded around Harry Potter, hoping to get a closer look at the magnificent stag.
More than the silvery mist itself, they wanted to know how Harry Potter had managed to pull it off…
Only a handful of wizards truly understood how difficult it was to summon a Patronus. They looked Harry Potter up and down, astonishment written plainly on their faces.
Based on his usual grades and performance, he shouldn't have been capable of casting the Patronus Charm at all.
Not even the Prefects had reached that level.
Was it possible that, aside from Quidditch, Harry Potter actually possessed a hidden gift for magic?
While everyone else was focused on the Patronus, Ginny noticed something wrong with Harry Potter.
"Harry? What's wrong? You suddenly look awful…"
"No. I just feel a little unwell."
"Does the Patronus Charm have some kind of unknown side effect?"
"No… it's not that… it's just…"
Faced with his friend's sister's concern, Harry Potter pressed a hand to his forehead and struggled to breathe. His body trembled slightly; he clearly wasn't fine.
In truth, the Patronus Charm had no side effects. With guidance from the Order of the Phoenix wizards, Harry Potter had long since learned to summon his Patronus with ease.
Under normal circumstances, nothing should have gone wrong.
But—
What was this sudden, stabbing pain?
Had something major happened again?
Was it Voldemort…?
Not wanting anyone to notice, Harry lowered his head. His bloodshot eyes stared at the floor as he tried to piece together what was happening.
Over time, as these episodes became more frequent, Harry had begun to recognize the pattern behind the pain in his scar.
It only flared this violently when it was connected to that person.
Then…
Harry lifted his gaze and scanned the surrounding wizards.
Had Voldemort made another move?
Or was someone nearby speaking Voldemort's name?
...
The scene shifts back to Draco and the others.
As a matter of fact, even before the term began—because of the incident with Harry Potter—Draco had already warned them about the potential threat Dementors might pose in the future.
From that point on, he added mastering the Patronus Charm to their training.
In other words, it wasn't just Pansy and the girls. Goyle, Crabbe, and the rest of their followers were all working toward casting the Patronus Charm as well…
And once they truly began practicing it, they realized something: every spell they had struggled with before suddenly seemed simple by comparison.
The difficulty of the Patronus Charm was obvious.
The level of concentration it demanded surpassed any spell Hermione had studied so far, let alone the requirement of pouring powerful emotion into the magic as it was cast.
That intangible quality was exactly what made this type of Charm so hard…
To address that, Draco had shared a small trick with them.
[Hope, joy, the will to live… Perhaps those of us born into the Sacred Twenty-Eight Families can't truly understand such emotions, but…]
As Pansy raised her wand, Draco's words resurfaced in her mind.
It was true. From everything recorded in wizarding history—and from the wizards she had personally known—she had never heard of any of her relatives or acquaintances flawlessly casting the Patronus Charm.
They nobles might be arrogant, but they had to admit it: wizards like Harry Potter, who could summon a Patronus, might exist—but among pure-blood aristocrats, they were exceedingly rare.
After all, they had grown up in an environment steeped in pureblood supremacy and reverence for strength. The people around them were not gentle, affectionate figures.
Beyond family ties, their lives revolved around one thing: becoming a qualified heir.
And that position was never meant for the naïve.
So even Pansy, lacking so many of the so-called "necessary conditions," couldn't be certain she could reach Harry Potter's level.
But—
Her beautiful, gem-like eyes locked onto the tip of her wand. The hand gripping it tightened until her knuckles paled.
In that instant, the powerful magic concealed beneath Draco's brilliance burst forth, startling everyone present.
She was a master of Transfiguration.
She was the princess of the Parkinson family.
And she would never allow anyone to look down on Draco!
...
Silver light reflected across her resolute face, as though she were draped in a thin, translucent veil of silver.
Beautiful. Powerful.
Under Draco and the others' watchful eyes, Pansy parted her lips slightly and murmured,
"Happy… memories."
Her thoughts slipped back to that afternoon.
The moment their gazes tangled together.
"Happy. Yes… that's right."
Even now, she could almost feel his heated breath.
"As long as I'm by his side."
In her ears, she seemed to hear her own soft breathing.
Then… go.
Pansy Parkinson.
Her robes flaring, Pansy stepped forward decisively. In the next instant, a surge of brilliant silver light flooded everyone's vision.
"Expecto… Patronum!!"