"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.
"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backwards in alarm. "There's a boggart in there."
Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling door knob apprehensively.
"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks- I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice.
"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?"
Hermione put up her hand.
"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."
"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.
"This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's small sputter of terror, "that we will have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"
Trying to answer a question with Hermione next to him, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air was very off-putting, but Harry had a go.
"Er- because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"
"Precisely," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. WHich should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake - tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening.
"The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape you find amusing.
"We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please... Riddikulus!"
"Riddikulus!" said the class together.
"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."
The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for the gallows.
"Right Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first; what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"
Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.
"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry." said Professor Lupin cheerfully.
Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."
Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.
"Professor Snape...hmmm...Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"
"Er...yes." said Neville nervously. "But- I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."
"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"
Neville looked startled, but said, "Well...always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress...green, normally...and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."
"And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.
"A big red one," said Neville.
"Right then," said Professor Lupin. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"
"Yes." said Neville uncertainly, plainly wondering what was coming next.
"When the boggart burst out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin. "And you will raise you wand- thus- and cry 'Riddikulus' - and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into the vulture-topped hat, and that green dres, with that big red handbag."
There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.
"If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical..."
The room went quiet.
(Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, pgs. 132-136)
Hermione thought about that, what scared her most? The first thing she thought of was failing all of her classes, then almost unbidden came the memory of the one night during the previous summer.
Flashback:
She yelped as she tripped over yet another branch. Why did her parents insist on having a camping trip? They were in a place called the Forest of Dean, it was a beautiful place but she wasn't really an outdoor type. Sure she enjoyed nature but she preferred the nice comfort of a large lounge chair and a good book. It was the summer after her second year which was probably why her parents were so insistent on a family outing. She had been petrified by a Baskilisk last year and her parents were beginning to think sending her to Hogwarts was a bad idea.
She had managed to convince them that the muggle world was just as dangerous as the magical world, at least the magical world didn't have guns or bombs.
She had been sent to retrieve more firewood which really meant her parents wanted some time to discuss something without her there.
She bent and picked up the branch she had tripped on halfheartedly. It was a large branch as far as branches go. As big around as her arm and about twice as long.
She was just standing straight again when she heard a howl that chilled her to the bone. It was close, too close for comfort. And it didn't sound like a wolf's howl, it was much too deep and short. A rustle of a bush, the crack of a small twig getting crushed beneath a large foot, a low snarl. She shuddered as gold eyes came into view.
A large body edged its way into the small clearing standing on four distorted legs. The front ones were oddly placed, much too uneven to be animal, yet too long to be human. A short snout was parted in a teeth baring snarl, pointed ears were pressed against the oddly shaped head in a threatening manner. A short boney tail was attached to the where the tail bone would extend. The spine was grossly twisted, bent nearly in half something that wouldn't have looked so out of place if the spine hadn't been so long. The creature stood on two back legs and it suddenly became much more terrifying. It stood nearly eight feet tall and towered over her threateningly, and suddenly the five feet of space between them wasn't nearly enough.
It snarled menacingly as it stepped closer still on two legs. It drew its front leg back threateningly and then swung it down at her. She yelled in fear and shock even as she swung the big branch up to knock the blow to the side. It passed her face harmlessly. The werewolf dropped to four legs and lunged at her. She fell backwards onto her back and had the presence of mind to shove the branch up sideways so it lodged in the creature's mouth to keep it from biting her.
The charms on her silver bracelet jangled silently swaying with the force of the blow. The werewolf had one paw pressing down on the one side of the branch and it drew back the other paw and brought down the sharp claws raking them across the underside of her left arm. Her arm trembled and she yelped at the sudden pain. The adrenaline had dulled it a lot but the pain was still sharp. She took a desperate, yet still cautious swing at the creature's short muzzle. Her hand stung even as the sound of flesh touching flesh rung out.
Then the werewolf drew back with a yelping howl in pain. Across its muzzle was a bright red yet small burn. It was in the shape of interlocking rings, her bracelet had branded the werewolf's face. Hermione pushed the branch up throwing the distracted creature to one side. She scrambled to her feet hurriedly and took a quick swing at the werewolf's head while it was distracted hitting it across the muzzle with a sharp crack. It yelped in shock at the sudden attack. She swung the branch again. Hitting its neck this time instead of its muzzle. It snarled menacingly before turning tail and loping off with its odd limbs, searching for some easier prey.
She hurriedly went back to her campsite clutching the branch in her hand and flinching at every sound. She had no doubt she wouldn't be so lucky the second time she went up against the werewolf.
Her parents quickly carted her to a hospital and she got over sixty stitches for the three deep gashes. They went from just below the crook of her elbow to her wrist. And when the doctors had finally taken the stitches out a month later, almost four times the required time it was still sore and prone to breaking open to bleed a little, though not as much as it had been.
It had actually taken until just before she went to get her supplies for her scars to stop twinging every so often. She had even made herself a healing cream in her parent's kitchen, making sure to clean all of the surfaces carefully before and after brewing. She needed to avoid contamination in the potion ingredients but she also didn't want any of the potion's ingredients to cause damage in the kitchen. The cream had helped but not as much as it should have.
Flashback End
She came back into herself and tried to imagine a way to make a werewolf seem amusing. Maybe if it was a puppy? A scolded puppy? She remembered hitting the werewolf over his muzzle and imagined the same thing with a rolled up newspaper and a scolded puppy and chuckled.
"Is everybody ready?" Professor Lupin asked.
There was a general murmur of agreement.
"Ready, Neville?" He asked turning to the frightened boy. He nodded nervously. Lupin stood back and cast a spell at the wardrobe causing it to creak open. A sallow hand appeared grasping onto the side of the wardrobe and pulled itself out and a carbon copy of the greasy hair potions professor stood just outside the wardrobe. He paused for a second than took a smooth step forward his cloak billowing in the non-existent breeze just like the real Snape's did.
"R-r-riddikulus!" Neville stuttered out. There was a sound like a whip cracking and suddenly the boggart Snape was wearing the ugliest hat Hermione had ever seen, along with a emerald green dress and a giant red handbag that clashed horribly. A quick burst of laughter came from the assembled students.
"Very good. Very good." Lupin congratulated. "To the back Neville, and everyone form a line." He ordered.
Hermione slipped into line just in front of Harry yet behind Ron.
"Parvati, Forward!" Lupin called.
The confused boggart turned into a bloody mummy.
"Riddikulus!" She called and with a whip crack the mummy's bandage unwrapped around its feet and it tripped causing its head to fly off.
"Seamus!" Lupin roared.
Seamus stepped forward and the headless mummy became a skeletal green woman with floor length hair, it was a banshee. She opened her mouth and let out a horrible screech.
"Riddikulus!" Seamus yelled and the boggart banshee held her hand up to her throat as her voice suddenly vanished.
The boggart turned into several different things as it ran around in a circle confused as to why it wasn't scaring them.
"It's getting confused. Dean!" Lupin called.
Dean hurried forward and with another crack the boggart turned into a severed hand which flipped over and started to do a sort of crab walk towards Dean.
"Riddikulus!" He called and with a crack the hand was caught in a mouse trap.
"Excellent, Ron, you're next." Ron stepped forward drawling his wand nervously.
The boggart instantly turned into a six foot tall spider, which clicked its pincers threateningly.
"Riddikulus!" Ron bellowed fear giving his voice volume. There was a crack and the spider instantly gained eight rollar skates, one for each leg. It slipped wildly before falling.
"Hermione!" Lupin ordered.
Hermione stepped forward cautiously and the spider instantly transformed. It was a wolf like creature and then it stood on its back legs revealing for the whole class it was a werewolf. There was a large red welt across the creature's muzzle and then it opened its mouth and a raspy male voice came out.
"I'm coming for my revenge. You stupid little Mudblood. And no amount of silver will save you from me this time." It snarled. Hermione felt her muscles lock in shock. She quickly snapped out of it pointing her wand at the werewolf boggart. "R-riddikulus!" She called her voice quivering with shock that the boggart had actually talked to her. There was the sound of a whip cracking then the werewolf was suddenly a puppy that got rapped sharply across the head with a rolled up newspaper as it curled its tail in between its legs submissively. Hermione forced a chuckle as she took a cautious step back.
Harry stepped forward eager to have his turn and the puppy suddenly whirled around in a swirl of black mist and suddenly it was a dementor. Lupin leaped forward in front of Harry before he could take care of it. The boggart turned into a white orb.
"Riddikulus." Lupin said almost lazily and the orb turned into a balloon that made a whooshing sound as the air was let out of it. Lupin cast a spell openning the door and the boggart instantly flew in still in balloon form. Lupin cast a locking charm to the groans of most of the class.
"Sorry about that. That's it for the day. Take five points for each person who faced the boggart and another five for both Hermione and Harry for answering my questions at the beginning of class." Lupin ordered.
Hermione quickly gathered her books.
"A werewolf?" Ron asked suddenly, "What was that about?" He demanded.
Hermione glanced around. Only Harry and Ron were in hearing distance. Lupin was still in the room but he was much too far away to hear her. She gestured for the boys to move closer and pulled up her left sleeve up to her elbow revealing three gruesomely long scars. "This summer. My parents took me camping in the forest of Dean. I was out gathering firewood when the werewolf found me. I had just picked up a rather large piece of wood to use as firewood and I managed to parry the first swing of claws, but then it knocked me to the ground. I had the presence of mind to shove the piece of wood into its mouth to keep it from biting me. It had one of its paws on the wood but it used its other paw to cause this." Hermione gestured to the scars. "I slapped it across the muzzle reasonably convinced its mouth was preoccupied with the wood. And then it drew back in pain and I noticed the welt I had caused with my bracelet. I hefted the wood up throwing it sideways off of me and took a couple swings at it hitting it across the head and its neck. It turned tail and run after a couple of hits." Hermione sighed. "My fear is that it will come back to get me, or maybe what would've happened if it hadn't run away." Hermione unconsciously rubbed the tingling scars.
"Come on, we'll be late for lunch." Harry interrupted sensing Hermione didn't want to talk about it anymore.
Ron looked like he was going to protest but dropped it and they all went down to lunch. Unknown to them, one Remus J. Lupin had heard the whole story.
He stared after the group with an unreadable expression on his face.