Eldin sighed, already able to tell that the memory of a broomstick would never work, It wasn't nearly strong enough; even flying on quidditch pitch with the Slytherin team would have been stronger in terms of pure glee, but he knew that wouldn't work either. Instead, he chose to focus on something more... recent. Something that, at the time, had even made him tear up — not that he'd ever admit it to anyone — with happiness: his mother's safe return after nearly a month away during the Irvingly expedition.

"Expecto patronum," he managed after a minute of concentration, eyes squeezed shut as the memory flooded his mind.

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