Once, they were upstairs at the Weasley's house.
Once, she happened across a Boggart, a strong one that hadn't been force-fed laughter. Water rushed out, like filling in invisible pool between the wardrobe and herself. Rising to her knees, she nearly buckled. Shaking, she drew the wand, fingers shaking against the runes etched into the base.
Classes answered with the translation.
Be not afraid for fear hinders light. Those of greatness are not fearless but courageous enough in toil to suppress the overwhelming of darkness.
In mind, she saw a pool of glowing green mass, a solid but with weak molecule attraction. Would squish easily, she considered, but was not soft enough to enter her mouth without wanting to taste the sour apple surface, to force itself into her lungs and filling each pocket to force out air. The illusion of water rose nearly to her trembling wrist that hung limply by her leg. Sarah was panicking, unable to get away, wanting to force the murky fluid into something else, but her throat was full of earwigs and spiders.
She closed her eyes, the coolness of the water penetrating her skin.
The water shrank back; her skin was felt dry once again. The bugs shrank back; her throat was clear again. Lens caps fell popped off of her binocular eyes, taking in a glowing orb now centered in the room. "Riddikulous!"
The orb took on a shape of a pear, with a nub of latex for a stem. Now without defiance of gravity, it lingered in midair for a moment more before clashing with the moth-eaten carpet. As if in slow motion, clicking by frame-by-frame. The water inside remained in the shape of a dented pear as the latex snapped back away from it.
Then the water splashed, mocking a puddle before the shreds of latex and water retreated to the cabinet. The two laughed in a detached way, like they were making a tape of pre-recorded laughter for a sitcom Sarah watched with her Muggle uncle sometimes.
Looking up finally, her eyes met sodium and aluminum silicate, a brilliant shade of ultramarine, bioluminescent tendrils drifting toward his pupils, darker than the ocean.
