Patronus Quotes

Snape's patronus was a doe,' said Harry, 'the same as my mother's because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from when they were children.

But this is touching, Severus,” said Dumbledore seriously. “Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?” “For him?” shouted Snape. “Expecto Patronum!” From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe. She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears. “After all this time?” “Always,” said Snape.

Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.

Prongs rode again last night... You know, Harry, in a way, you did see your father last night... You found him inside yourself.

SCORPIUS: A doe? Lily’s Patronus. SNAPE: Strange, isn’t it? What comes from within.

You see!" said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!" "It's different," said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely-" "But I don't care either, I don't care!" said Tonks, seizing the front of Lupin's robes and shaking them. "I've told you a million times...." And the meaning of Tonk's Patronus and her mouse-colored hair, and the reason she had come running to find Dumbledore when she had heard a rumor someone had been attacked by Greyback, all suddenly became clear to Harry; it had not been Sirius that Tonks had fallen in love with after all. "And I've told you a million times," said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes, staring at the floor, "that I am too old for you, too poor....too dangerous...." "I've said all along you're taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus," said Mrs. Weasley over Fleur's shoulder as she patted her on the back. "I am not being ridiculous," said Lupin steadily. "Tonks deserves somebody young and whole." "But she wants you," said Mr. Weasley, with a small smile. "And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so." He gestured sadly at his son, lying between them. "This is....not the moment to discuss it," said Lupin, avoiding everybody's eyes as he looked around distractedly. "Dumbledore is dead...." "Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world," said Professor McGonagall curtly...

...there's something in science like the shine of the Patronus Charm, driving back all sorts of darkness and madness...

As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world's best Patronus.

I heard from my dear friend Tiberius Ogden, that you can produce a Patronus? For a bonus point...? Harry raised his wand, looked directly at Umbridge, and imagined her being sacked. Expecto Patronum! The silver stag erupted from the end of his wand and cantered the length of the hall.

Expecto Patronum!” She poured every drop of emotion she had into the spell. White light exploded from her wand, growing larger and larger until her Patronus fully corporalized. Not her otter. Not a blur. Hermione stared up as a full-sized Antipodean Opaleye emerged from her wand. It filled the sky. It threw back its head, roaring and unfurling enormous wings. It opened its mouth, and white flames poured from it.

The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can’t hurt it.

Dumbledore’s dead,’ he said. ‘I saw it happen, I saw the body. He’s definitely gone. Anyway, his Patronus was a phoenix, not a doe.

And then a silver hare, a boar, and a fox soared past Harry, Ron, and Hermione's heads: The dementors fell back before the creatures' approach. Three more people had arrived out of the darkness to stand beside them, their wands outstretched, continuing to cast their Patronuses: Luna, Ernie, and Seamus. "That's right," said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A. "That's right, Harry... come on, think of something happy..." "Something happy?" he said, his voice cracked. "We're all still here," she whispered, "we're still fighting. Come on, now..." There was a silver spark, then a wavering light, and then, with the greatest effort it had ever cost him, the stag burst from the end of Harry's wand.

That raccoon is my goddamn role model. He is the worst and best Patronus ever, and I want to be just like him when I grow up.

Well, when it works correctly, it conjures up a Patronus,” said Lupin, “which is a kind of anti-dementor — a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor.

The sky turns even blacker still around them. 'Expecto Patronum!' SNAPE sends forward a Patronus, and it's a beautiful white shape of a doe. SCORPIUS: A doe? Lily's Patronus. SNAPE: Strange, isn't it? What comes from within. You need to run. I will keep them at bay for as long as I can. SCORPIUS: Thank you for being my light in the darkness. SNAPE looks at him, every inch a hero, he softly smiles.

If only there had been a dementor around. . . . As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world’s best Patronus.

A Patronus is a magical charm, a projection of all your most positive feelings, and takes the shape of the animal with whom you share the deepest affinity. It is a gift of light. If you can conjure a Patronus, you can protect yourself against the world. Which, in some of our cases, seems like a necessity sooner rather than later.

Severus Snape wasn’t yours,” said Harry. “Snape was Dumbledore’s, Dumbledore’s from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can’t understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?

You're expecting too much of yourself," said professor Lupin sternly, in their fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement

Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his wand. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he yelled. And out of the end of his wand burst, not a shapeless cloud of mist, but a blinding, dazzling, silver animal. He screwed up his eyes, trying to see what it was. It looked like a horse. It was galloping silently away from him, across the black surface of the lake. He saw it lower its head and charge at the swarming dementors. . . . Now it was galloping around and around the black shapes on the ground, and the dementors were falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness. . . . They were gone. The Patronus turned. It was cantering back toward Harry across the still surface of the water. It wasn't a horse. It wasn't a unicorn, either. It was a stag. It was shining brightly as the moon above. . . it was coming back to him. . . . It stopped on the bank. Its hooves made no mark on the soft ground as it stared at Harry with its large, silver eyes. Slowly, it bowed its antlered head. And Harry realized. . . "Prongs," he whispered. But as his trembling fingertips stretched toward the creature, it vanished.

This is in fact a sly test disguised as an interesting point of conversation. If he doesn't know what a patronus is, I know immediately that there's very little point in proceeding with the bench-based festivities.

From what the Headmaster told me this morning, you saved a lot of lives last night, Harry. If I'm proud of anything, it's how much you've learned. Tell me about your Patronus." "How d'you know about that?" said Harry, distracted. "What else could have driven the Dementors back?" Harry told Lupin what had happened. When he'd finished, Lupin was smiling again. "Yes, your father was always a stag when he transformed," he said. "You guessed right... that's why we called him Prongs.

Oh yeah, I own this like a patronus, baby.

Ha sido un patronus bastante bueno —susurró una voz al oído de Harry. Éste se volvió y vio al profesor Lupin, que estaba encantado y sorprendido.

Who the hell is Warren Ellis again?” Hardison gaped at the man. “Only one of the greatest comics writers in the past twenty years. Might as well ask who Alan Moore is, or Frank Miller, or Mark Waid, or Brian Michael Bendis, or Marv Wolfman, or Geoff Johns.” Eliot gave Hardison a blank look as they wove their way through the hall. Parker took the lead, toting a printed sign with her. Eliot and Hardison trailed in her wake. They made a point of striding right past Patronus’s booth. They didn’t turn to see if he noticed them. “No one?” Hardison said. “Nothing? Not even Kurt Busiek? Neil Gaiman?” “I have a life. I do things, active things. I date women.” “Stan Lee?” Eliot gave Hardison that one with a wag of his head. “Who hasn’t heard of Stan Lee?” “All right,” Hardison said with satisfaction. “You had me worried there, man.

Patronuses can change, though, can’t they?” said Ron. “Tonks’s changed, didn’t it?” “Yeah, but if Dumbledore was alive, why wouldn’t he show himself? Why wouldn’t he just hand us the sword?” “Search me,” said Ron. “Same reason he didn’t give it to you while he was alive? Same reason he left you an old Snitch and Hermione a book of kids’ stories?” “Which is what?” asked Harry, turning to look Ron full in the face, desperate for the answer. “I dunno,” said Ron. “Sometimes I’ve thought, when I’ve been a bit hacked off, he was having a laugh or—or he just wanted to make it more difficult. But I don’t think so, not anymore. He knew what he was doing when he gave me the Deluminator, didn’t he? He—well,” Ron’s ears turned bright red and he became engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe, “he must’ve known I’d run out on you.” “No,” Harry corrected him. “He must’ve known you’d always want to come back.

Come on!' he muttered, staring about. 'Where are you? Dad, come on--" But no one came. Harry raised his head to look at the circle of dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear--but no one was coming to help this time-- And then it hit him--he understood. He hadn't seen his father--he had seen himself-- ... 'It was stupid, thinking it was him,' he (Harry) muttered. 'I mean, I knew he was dead.' 'You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.' ... 'You know, Harry, in a way, you did see your father last night...You found him inside yourself.' And Dumbledore left the office, leaving Harry to his very confused thoughts.

Harry,” said Hermione, “how are we going to get out of here with all those dementors outside the door?” “Patronuses,” said Harry, pointing his wand at his own: The stag slowed and walked, still gleaming brightly, toward the door. “As many as we can muster; do yours, Hermione.” “Expec--Expecto patronum,” said Hermione. Nothing happened. “It’s the only spell she ever has trouble with,” Harry told a completely bemused Mrs. Cattermole. “Bit unfortunate, really…Come on, Hermione…” “Expecto patronum!” A silver otter burst from the end of Hermione’s wand and swam gracefully through the air to join the stag.

You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.

Been trying to keep an eye out for you.” Ron gasped. “The silver doe!” he said excitedly. “Was that you too?” “What are you talking about?” said Aberforth. “Someone sent a doe Patronus to us!” “Brains like that, you could be a Death Eater, son. Haven’t I just proved my Patronus is a goat?” “Oh,” said Ron. “Yeah…well, I’m hungry!” he added defensively as his stomach gave an enormous rumble.

this matter will not go uninvestigated.” He glanced at Madam Bones, who readjusted her monocle and stared back at him, frowning slightly. “I would remind everybody that the behavior of these dementors, if indeed they are not figments of this boy’s imagination, is not the subject of this hearing!” said Fudge. “We are here to examine Harry Potter’s offenses under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery!” “Of course we are,” said Dumbledore, “but the presence of dementors in that alleyway is highly relevant. Clause seven of the Decree states that magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations that threaten the life of the wizard or witch himself, or witches, wizards, or Muggles present at the time of the —” “We are familiar with clause seven, thank you very much!” snarled Fudge. “Of course you are,” said Dumbledore courteously. “Then we are in agreement that Harry’s use of the Patronus Charm in these circumstances falls precisely into the category of exceptional circumstances it describes?” “If there were dementors, which I doubt —” “You have heard from an eyewitness,” Dumbledore interrupted. “If you still doubt her truthfulness, call her back, question her again. I am sure she would not object.” “I — that — not —” blustered Fudge, fiddling with the papers before him. “It’s — I want this over with today, Dumbledore!” “But naturally, you would not care how many times you heard from a witness, if the alternative was a serious miscarriage of justice,” said Dumbledore.

The Patronus turned. It was cantering back toward Harry across the still surface of the water. It wasn’t a horse. It wasn’t a unicorn, either. It was a stag. It was shining brightly as the moon above . . . it was coming back to him. . . . It stopped on the bank. Its hooves made no mark on the soft ground as it stared at Harry with its large, silver eyes. Slowly, it bowed its antlered head. And Harry realized . . . “Prongs,” he whispered.

C’mon,” said Harry, and he led Hermione and Mrs. Cattermole to the door. When the Patronuses glided out of the dungeon there were cries of shock from the people waiting outside. Harry looked around; the dementors were falling back on both sides of them, melding into the darkness, scattering before the silver creatures. “It’s been decided that you should all go home and go into hiding with your families,” Harry told the waiting Muggle-borns, who were dazzled by the light of the Patronuses and still cowering slightly. “Go abroad if you can. Just get well away from the Ministry. That’s the--er--new official position. Now, if you’ll just follow the Patronuses, you’ll be able to leave from the Atrium.” They managed to get up the stone steps without being intercepted, but as they approached the lifts Harry started to have misgivings. If they emerged into the Atrium with a silver stag, an otter soaring alongside it, and twenty or so people, half of them accused Muggle-borns, he could not help feeling that they would attract unwanted attention.

Ron and Hermione came crashing down the stairs behind Harry, wands pointing, like his, at the unknown man now standing with his arms raised in the hall below. “Hold your fire, it’s me, Remus!” “Oh, thank goodness,” said Hermione weakly, pointing her wand at Mrs. Black instead; with a bang, the curtains swished shut again and silence fell. Ron too lowered his wand, but Harry did not. “Show yourself!” he called back. Lupin moved forward into the lamplight, hands still held high in a gesture of surrender. “I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder’s Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag.” “Oh, all right,” said Harry, lowering his wand, “but I had to check, didn’t I?” “Speaking as your ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, I quite agree that you had to check. Ron, Hermione, you shouldn’t be quite so quick to lower your defenses.

He raised his wand, but a dull hopelessness was spreading through him: How many more lay dead that he did not yet know about; he felt as though his soul had already half left his body. . . . “HARRY, COME ON!” screamed Hermione. A hundred dementors were advancing, gliding toward them, sucking their way closer to Harry’s despair, which was like a promise of a feast. . . . He saw Ron’s silver terrier burst into the air, flicker feebly, and expire; he saw Hermione’s otter twist in midair and fade; and his own wand trembled in his hand, and he almost welcomed the oncoming oblivion, the promise of nothing, of no feeling. . . . And then a silver hare, a boar, and a fox soared past Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s heads: The dementors fell back before the creatures’ approach. Three more people had arrived out of the darkness to stand beside them, their wands outstretched, continuing to cast their Patronuses: Luna, Ernie, and Seamus. “That’s right,” said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A. “That’s right, Harry . . . come on, think of something happy. . . .” “Something happy?” he said, his voice cracked. “We’re all still here,” she whispered, “we’re still fighting. Come on, now. . . .

Sorry,” said Ron, wrenching Harry back out of the brambles, “but the name’s been jinxed, Harry, that’s how they track people! Using his name breaks protective enchantments, it causes some kind of magical disturbance — it’s how they found us in Tottenham Court Road!” “Because we used his name?” “Exactly! You’ve got to give them credit, it makes sense. It was only people who were serious about standing up to him, like Dumbledore, who ever dared use it. Now they’ve put a Taboo on it, anyone who says it is trackable — quick-and-easy way to find Order members! They nearly got Kingsley —” “You’re kidding?” “Yeah, a bunch of Death Eaters cornered him, Bill said, but he fought his way out. He’s on the run now, just like us.” Ron scratched his chin thoughtfully with the end of his wand. “You don’t reckon Kingsley could have sent that doe?” “His Patronus is a lynx, we saw it at the wedding, remember?” “Oh yeah . . .” They moved farther along the hedge, away from the tent and Hermione. “Harry . . . you don’t reckon it could’ve been Dumbledore?” “Dumbledore what?” Ron looked a little embarrassed, but said in a low voice, “Dumbledore . . . the doe? I mean,” Ron was watching Harry out of the corners of his eyes, “he had the real sword last, didn’t he?” Harry did not laugh at Ron, because he understood too well the longing behind the question. The idea that Dumbledore had managed to come back to them, that he was watching over them, would have been inexpressibly comforting. He shook his head. “Dumbledore’s dead,” he said. “I saw it happen, I saw the body. He’s definitely gone. Anyway, his Patronus was a phoenix, not a doe.” “Patronuses can change, though, can’t they?” said Ron. “Tonks’s

And he set off. The dementors’ chill did not overcome him; he passed through it with his companions, and they acted like Patronuses to him, and together they marched through the old trees that grew closely together, their branches tangled, their roots gnarled and twisted underfoot. Harry clutched the Cloak tightly around him in the darkness, traveling deeper and deeper into the forest, with no idea where exactly Voldemort was, but sure that he would find him. Beside him, making scarcely a sound, walked James, Sirius, Lupin, and Lily, and their presence was his courage, and the reason he was able to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Well, well, well . . . Patronus Potter,” said

Entonces el patronus abrió sus fauces y habló con la fuerte, grave y pausada voz de Kingsley Shacklebolt: —El ministerio ha caído. Scrimgeour ha muerto. Vienen hacia aquí.

I meant Hagrid to get the message,” said Tonks, frowning. “Hagrid was late for the start-of-term feast, just like Potter here, so I took it instead. And incidentally,” said Snape, standing back to allow Harry to pass him, “I was interested to see your new Patronus.” He shut the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that they slithered, clinking, back into place. “I think you were better off with the old one,” said Snape, the malice in his voice unmistakable. “The new one looks weak.” As Snape swung the

I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder’s Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag.

Hermione’s Patronus is an otter, and Ron’s is a Jack Russel Terrier, which is known for chasing otters.

You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.” It

You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.

As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world’s best Patronus.

Brains like that, you could be a Death Eater, son. Haven’t I just proved my Patronus is a goat?

You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.

You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.” It took a moment

The majority of witches and wizards are unable to produce Patronuses and to do so is generally considered a mark of superior magical ability.

Never forget, though, that one of the most famous Patronuses of all time was a lowly mouse, which belonged to a legendary young wizard called Illyius, who used it to hold off an attack from an army of Dementors single-handedly.

Patronus

She marched toward the door, and as she did so she raised her wand. From the tip burst three silver cats with spectacle markings around their eyes. The Patronuses ran sleekly ahead, filling the spiral staircase with silvery light, as Professor McGonagall, Harry, and Luna hurried back down.

Expecto patronum! SNAPE beschwört einen Patronus herauf, es ist eine wunderschöne, weiße Hirschkuh. SCORPIUS Eine Hirschkuh? Das ist doch Lilys Patronus. SNAPE Seltsam, nicht wahr? Was aus dem Herzen hervorkommt.

Patronus is a magical charm, a projection of all your most positive feelings and takes the shape of the animal with whom you share the deepest affinity. It is a gift of light. If you can conjure a Patronus, you can protect yourself against the world. Which, in some of our cases, seems like a necessity sooner rather

You'll stay with me?" "Until the very end," said James. "They won't be able to see you?" asked Harry. "We are part of you," said Sirius. "Invisible to anyone else." Harry looked at his mother. "Stay close to me," he said quietly. And he set off. The Dementors' chill did not overcome him; he passed through it with his companions, and they acted like Patronuses to him.

Peter Brown, that great historian of early Christianity, has given the most cogent explanation for the arising of the cult of the saints in the late Roman world. He explains that the emphasis of early Christian preaching on judgment, on the human need for redemption from sin, brought to the minds of common people — among whom Christianity was early successful — their social and political condition. Having strictly limited powers to remedy any injustice they might suffer, or to clear themselves of any charges of wrongdoing, they turned, when they could, to their social betters in hope of aid. If a local patrician could befriend them — could be, at least for a time, their patron — then they had a chance, at least, of receiving justice or at least escaping punishment. “It is this hope of amnesty,” Brown writes, “that pushed the saint to the foreground as patronus. For patronage and friendship derived their appeal from a proven ability to render malleable seemingly inexorable processes, and to bridge with the warm breath of personal acquaintance the great distances of the late-Roman social world. In a world so sternly organized around sin and justice, patrocimium [patronage] and amicitia [friendship] provided a much-needed language of amnesty.” As this cult became more and more deeply entrenched in the Christian life, it made sense for there to be, not just feast days for individual saints, but a day on which everyone’s indebtedness to the whole company of saints — gathered around the throne of God, pleading on our behalf — could be properly acknowledged. After all, we do not know who all the saints are: no doubt men and women of great holiness escaped the notice of their peers, but are known to God. They deserve our thanks, even if we cannot thank them by name. So the logic went: and a general celebration of the saints seems to have begun as early as the fourth century, though it would only be four hundred years later that Pope Gregory III would designate the first day of November as the Feast of All Saints.

Extinct Patronuses are very rare but not unknown. Strangely, given their long connection with wizardkind, owl Patronuses are unusual. Most uncommon of all possible Patronuses are magical creatures such as dragons, Thestrals and phoenixes. Never forget, though, that one of the most famous Patronuses of all time was a lowly mouse, which belonged to a legendary young wizard called Illyius, who used it to hold off an attack from an army of Dementors single-handedly. While a rare and magical Patronus undoubtedly reflects an unusual personality, it does not follow that it is more powerful, or will enjoy greater success at defending its caster.

«Visto?» fece una voce nervosa. Tonks guardava torva Lupin. «Lei vuole sposarlo lo stesso, anche se è stato morso! Non le importa!» «È diverso» ribattè Lupin, muovendo appena le labbra, d'un tratto agitato. «Bill non sarà un vero lupo mannaro. I casi sono completamente...» «Ma anche a me non importa, non m'importa!» esclamò Tonks, scuotendo Lupin per la veste. «Te l'ho detto un milione di volte...» E il significato del Patronus di Tonks e dei suoi capelli color topo, e la ragione per cui era venuta di corsa a cercare Silente quando aveva sentito dire che qualcuno era stato aggredito da Greyback, tutto all'improvviso fu chiaro a Harry: non era di Sirius che Tonks era innamorata, allora...

None of my tattoos belong to me; other people wore them first. I have Gaga’s Rilke quote on the inside of my arm and Lana del Rey’s paradise on the side of my foot. Rihanna’s stars cascade across my hip; Cara Delevingne’s wasp stings my shoulder. These tattoos belong to people who are free and abundantly themselves. When they walk in, they belong, even though they look like they came from the moon or Mars or the Milky Way. They don’t have scars; they are the scar—the line that separates them from the ordinary is their entire existence. Their tattoos are my icons, little etched Patronus charms that fly across my body. So when I get ink, I get theirs. I reach for what they have; I cling to it in permanent colors.

George’s Patronus After his twin, Fred, died in the battle of Hogwarts, George was never able to cast the Patronus charm again. That’s just too sad to handle!

– Expecto Patronum: used to forged a Patronus (a physical manifestation of one’s maximum wonderful feelings), which guards towards dementors and can be used for communications

-El patronus es es una especie de fuerza positiva, una proyección de las mismas cosas de las que el dementor se alimenta, pero no puede sentir desesperación como los seres humanos, de modo que los dementores no pueden herirlo

leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus?

You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.

You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus?

heard, from my dear friend Tiberius Ogden, that you can produce a Patronus? For a bonus point … ?’ Harry raised his wand, looked directly at Umbridge and imagined her being sacked. ‘Expecto patronum!’ His silver stag erupted from the end of his wand and cantered the length of the Hall. All of the examiners looked around to watch its progress and when it dissolved into silver mist Professor Tofty clapped his veined and knotted hands enthusiastically.

Hermione’s Patronus is an otter, and Ron’s is a Jack Russel Terrier, which is known for chasing otters.

133. Dumbledore’s Patronus is a swan.

If Ashton Hamid had a patronus, it was an overgrown Great Dane. He was all long arms and knobby-kneed legs, bony elbows and size sixteen feet. The resemblance extended to his face too. His brown eyes seemed perennially tired, punctuated by drooping lids and sloping black brows. Chin-length hair flopped over his eyes and behind his ears. His clothes—bought to fit his six and a half foot frame—always looked three sizes too big.

You don’t think she can have been . . . you know . . . in love with Sirius?” Hermione stared at him. “What on earth makes you say that?” “I dunno,” said Harry, shrugging, “but she was nearly crying when I mentioned his name . . . and her Patronus is a big four-legged thing now. . . . I wondered whether it hadn’t become . . . you know . . . him.” “It’s a thought,” said Hermione slowly. “But I still don’t know why she’d be bursting into the castle to see Dumbledore, if that’s really why she was here. . . .” “Goes back to what I said, doesn’t it?” said Ron, who was now shoveling mashed potato into his mouth. “She’s gone a bit funny. Lost her nerve. Women,” he

He had no strength left for a Patronus. He could no longer control his own trembling. It was not, after all, so easy to die. Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious: To think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second. At the same time he thought he would not be able to go on, and knew that he must. The long game was ended, the snitch had been caught, it was time to leave the air.

Jess Drew?” Nate said. “Seriously? You couldn’t come up with a better name than that?” “What’s wrong with Jessica Drew?” Hardison said. “It’s Spider-Woman’s real name.” “Other than that stunning little detail—which I didn’t know about, but our mark might—there’s the fact that it sounds an awful lot like ‘Just Drew,’ which is a hell of an odd name for an artists’ agent, don’t you think?” “The man’s a serial abuser of pseudonyms himself,” Hardison said. “Even if he does think of that, he’d probably just chalk it off as a professional name. Hell, the man took his last name from a Harry Potter spell. He’s not one to talk.

Sono Remus John Lupin, lupo mannaro, noto anche come Lunastorta, uno dei quattro creatori della Mappa del Malandrino, marito di Ninfadora, detta Tonks, e ti ho insegnato come evocare un Patronus, Harry, che ha la forma di un cervo,

Dumbledore’s Patronus is a swan.

Blanket permission for Harry to use his wand against Snape. Acknowledgment of one of Harry’s strengths, in a manner that is useful for the lesson. This is what it looks like when Snape actually teaches Harry magic. It’s a private lesson tailored to him because he needs the protection, delivered as sincerely as Lupin’s Patronus tutoring.

to the worthy. We have been wondering what Snape’s Patronus is. When it appears, at the book’s midpoint, it is the light that Harry has needed. Voldemort cannot touch this. It provides the guidance that Dumbledore doesn’t. There is comfort in this light, which takes the image of Lily Potter, the mate to James Potter’s silver stag. Snape and Harry have been strengthened by love from the same person. The silver doe tells us: follow the mother’s story.

Harry and Ron are too convinced of Snape’s evil to figure out whose Patronus helped them in the forest. The reader, however, knows that Snape can cast a Patronus, which we have never seen, and that Rowling has repeatedly underscored the importance of the mother’s story while revealing almost nothing about Lily’s friendships. Snape must have been careful to avoid letting Hermione see the silver doe. She was the last to lose faith in him, and he has never been able to evade her understanding for long.

By the time of the Final Battle, Harry discovers two more ways to handle dementors, and we see evidence that Snape probably used these tactics to seal his own mind against them. The Resurrection Stone gives Harry one way. The almost solid forms of Lily, James, Sirius, and Lupin keep him company on his walk toward death. These are the parents and family friends whose care instilled love in him so that he could have the kind of joy in life that can produce a Patronus. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have such riches. Not everyone is unfortunate enough to lose many of their loved ones so early. These intense memories of beloved caretakers are the sort of emotion that Patronuses are made of. Just thinking about them is protection enough.

The final book shows us that Snape was once ready to die to ease his own pain, but he accepted the offer of a second chance in order to protect someone else, difficult as that was guaranteed to be. When he does accept death, again, it is not for personal gain but to protect others. These convictions mean that Snape always knows why he is alive and what is important to him. The emotional connections necessary for a Patronus are not only available to those who remember receiving love. Those who choose to live to protect others create in themselves the same defensive strength.

Snape’s Patronus shows that he holds in his heart an image of a woman whose friendship and love helped form the best part of his nature. During this year when nobody knows Snape’s true self, Snape cannot depend upon external recognition of his nearly superhuman efforts. He can turn to his memories of Lily’s friendship as a guide: he can atone for his betrayal that resulted in her death by becoming, in the second part of his life, someone who would be able to meet the gaze of a person like Lily without shame.

If this came as a surprise to Dumbledore, then he hadn’t seen Snape’s doe Patronus for years, or perhaps ever before. As far as we know, the only people who ever saw the doe were Sirius, Dumbledore, Harry, and Ron. Dumbledore worked with Snape, depended upon him, but never asked him the private source of his growing strength. Perhaps he assumed that with time, Snape’s memories of Lily would have faded or been replaced. But Snape’s Patronus is powerful and effortless: it must be never far from his mind that all his protective powers have grown from that one original source, the

Expecto Patronum: Use this spell to summon your Patronus, a spirit guardian. It will usually take the shape of your favorite animal, or an animal you share similar characteristics with. Mine is a cow that drank too much fermented milk and just stumbles around mooing and complaining. What’s yours?

James and Lily Potter have Patronuses that reflect one another. James’ is a stag, and Lily’s is a doe.

Ron’s Patronus is a Jack Russell, as was J.K. Rowling’s last dog.

The silver doe!’ he said excitedly. ‘Was that you too?’ ‘What are you talking about?’ said Aberforth. ‘Someone sent a doe Patronus to us!’ ‘Brains like that, you could be a Death Eater, son.

Si hubiera habido un dementor por allí... Mientras Wood le pasaba la copa a Harry, sin dejar de sollozar, mientras la elevaba en el aire, Harry pensó que podía materializar al patronus más robusto del mundo.