““Expecto Patronum!” His voice sounded dim and distant…Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand — he couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t work the spell — There was laughter inside his head, shrill, high-pitched laughter….He could smell the dementor’s putrid, death-cold breath, filling his own lungs, drowning him….The dementor’s icy fingers were closing on his throat — the high-pitched laughter was growing louder and louder, and a voice spoke inside his head — “Bow to death, Harry….It might even be painless….I would not know….I have never died….” He was never going to see Ron and Hermione again — And their faces burst clearly into his mind as he fought for breath — “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” An enormous silver stag erupted from the tip of Harry’s wand; its antlers caught the dementor in the place where the heart would have been; it was thrown backward, weightless as darkness, and as the stag charged, the dementor swooped away, batlike and defeated.””
