"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." – U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt
Dread filled Jimmy O'Bannon as he approached the white and red colonial-style building that housed the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He sighed, knowing he shouldn't be feeling this way at all. DADA had always been one of his favorite classes since coming to the Salem Witches Institute over two years ago. He always looked forward to learning new hexes and spells and curses, or practice dueling with his classmates . . . except Rosa Infante. She always kicked his ass. But what would you expect from a girl whose parents were aurors?
Today, however, he didn't look forward at all to this lesson. He'd been fretting over it since their teacher, Mrs. Elmenbrooke, announced it at the end of their last class.
Jimmy slowed to a crawl as he neared the door. Someone bumped into him.
"Hey, watch it!" One of the Third Year boys glowered at him.
"Jimmy?" Someone laid a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"
He turned to find a tan-skinned girl with a clear complexion, long straight black hair and big diamond-shaped earrings next to him.
"You're not worried about the Boggart, are you?" asked Rosa Infante.
"No, I'm not worried," Jimmy practically snapped. He closed his eyes and turned away from his friend, softening his voice. "I mean, I'm fine. I'll be fine."
"C'mon, man. It's just like my mom said." A short but stocky boy sidled up next to him. "There's nothing to worry about with a Boggart. It's all in your head."
He nodded at Jared Diaz, tacking on a scowl at the end. He'd spent a good two hours in the library the other day reading everything he could about Boggarts. Jared was wrong. His fear wouldn't be just in his head. The Boggart would actually turn into it, put on display for the entire class to see.
Jimmy shuffled toward the door. He thought of all the people who commented to him about the way he played hockey. "You're not scared of anyone out there," they'd say after seeing him trade blows with Sixth or Seventh Year players much bigger than him.
What would they say once they all knew he was actually afraid of something? Something he should have stopped being afraid of when he was six.
He sat at his desk, Rosa to his left and Jared to his right. Next to Jared was a tall boy with brown hair. He clasped his hands together on top of his desk and stared intently at them.
Jimmy's lips twisted. Poor Artimus. He had no idea what that guy's Boggart would be. Just about everything seemed to scare him.
"Good morning, class." A witch with a hawkish face and gray hair tied in a bun entered the room. The class all greeted Mrs. Elmenbrooke.
"Well, I hope you're all ready to face your greatest fears today, and hopefully conquer them." The teacher's eyes swept over the class. "Today, you will be coming face-to-face with a Boggart. Before we begin, can anyone tell me what a Boggart looks like?"
Several hands went up, including Jimmy's, Jared's and Rosa's. No surprise, Artimus kept his hand down.
"Jimmy." Mrs. Elmenbrooke pointed to him.
"Um, nobody knows what a Boggart really looks like since it always appears as whatever a person fears the most."
"Correct. But just remember, no matter what form the Boggart takes when you confront it, it can't physically hurt you. It can only scare you, and defeating a Boggart is relatively easy. A simple one-word counter-spell. Riddikulus! Say it with me."
"Riddikulus!" the class responded.
"Excellent. But it takes more than just that word to, what's that Muggle phrase, 'send it picking.'"
Send it packing. Jimmy rolled his eyes. Why the heck couldn't magical people get Muggle phrases right?
Mrs. Elmenbrooke continued. "Who can tell me what else you must do besides say riddikulus to defeat a Boggart?"
This time she picked Cindy Walker, another Third Year Muggle-born. "You have to think of something that's funny, and then the Boggart will turn into it."
"Excellent, Cindy. Nice to see you've done your research before you came to class. After all, how can you defeat an enemy without knowing its strengths and weaknesses? That's one of the pillars Defense Against the Dark Arts was founded upon. So, know that you know how to combat a Boggart, let's get to it."
The veins in Jimmy's neck stuck out. He slowly gazed at his classmates, wondering what they would think of him after this lesson.
With a wave of her wand, Mrs. Elmenbrooke sent her desk to the far side of the classroom. Moments later a large chest levitated out of a nearby closet and settled on the floor beside the chalkboard.
"All right. Here is our Boggart." She waved a hand toward the chest. "Now, I will call you up one at a time. Let's see, why don't we start with . . . you, Rosa."
Rosa took a long, deep breath before standing and walking to the front of the classroom, wand in hand. She stood a few feet from the chest, noticeably chewing on her lower lip.
"Ready?" Mrs. Elmenbrooke asked.
Rosa nodded without looking at her.
The teacher waved her wand. The chest flew open.
A distinguished looking man in auror's robes appeared. Jimmy canted his head. That guy doesn't look scary.
Even Rosa seemed bewildered by it.
The man then spoke in an even voice. "Rosa Infante. I'm sorry to say that your parents, Adelaide and Cesario Infante, have been killed in the line of duty."
The color drained from Rosa's face. She shook her head.
"They died and have left you all alone," the man said. "You have no one to take care of you. They're never coming back. You'll be alone forever. No one will ever love you ag-"
"Riddikulus!"
The fake auror went rigid. Suddenly huge bubbles poured out of his mouth and ears and floated around the classroom. Laughter echoed through the room. The bubble-spewing auror retreated toward the corner.
"Well done, Rosa." Mrs. Elmenbrooke nodded as Rosa returned to her seat.
The teacher continued to randomly pick students. Ursa Oberlin screamed her head off when a half-reptilian, half-cat Manticore appeared before her. Instead of performing the spell, she broke down crying. Mrs. Elmenbrooke had to step in and give the monster bunny ears and protruding horse teeth. Ursa trudged back to her seat, sobbing, while the teacher frowned and shook her head.
Gregory Lancemore found himself facing . . . himself, though his double had a face covered in acne and scars and warts, while rivers of drool poured out his mouth. Jimmy softly chuckled. Figures Gregory would fear being ugly. All the Third Year girls, and even a few Fourth Year ones, seemed to swoon over him, including Rosa.
Gregory defeated his Boggart by having it perform clumsy ballet moves, tripping over itself repeatedly.
Next came that snobby little rich boy Merak Mather. Like Gregory, Mather found himself staring at another version of himself, this one dressed in rags and holding out his hands.
"Spare some change," said the Mather clone. "Please. Do you have any money?"
Jimmy snorted. No surprise Mather's biggest fear would be being poor.
After two tries, the jagoff managed to change his down-and-out double's rags into expensive-looking dress robes. In addition, he also conjured up a servant elf, whom the Mather clone kicked in the ass repeatedly.
The real Mather laughed.
No one else in the class did.
"That guy's got a pretty sick sense of humor." Rosa shook her head in disgust.
"Very, um, good, Merak." Mrs. Elmenbrooke seemed unsure about the compliment as she watched a grinning Merak Mather take his seat. "Now, let's see, how about . . . Jimmy O'Bannon."
Jimmy held his breath. Somehow, he forced himself out of his chair and marched slowly toward the front of the class.
"Go get 'em, Jimmy," Rosa whispered encouragement to him.
He barely heard it, worry consuming him. Most of the other kids who'd come up before him had legit fears no one could really make fun of. But him?
No. It's not gonna happen.
He closed his eyes. He'd thought about this approach during his Boggart research. There might be a way to prevent it from turning into the thing he feared the most.
A scene formed in his mind. Jimmy pictured himself in a Boston Bruins uniform, barreling toward the net. There waiting for him was Patrick Roy, one of the greatest netminders ever.
Jimmy reared back with his stick and blasted the puck past Roy. An instant later he skated around the rink, the Stanley Cup raised above his head.
More vivid daydreams materialized. This time he stood at home plate in a Red Sox uniform and belted a grand slam home run off that dipstick Mariano Rivera to win the World Series. Then he imagined himself in a Patriots uniform, ducking and dodging guys in Dallas Cowboy uniforms and dashing into the end zone for the Super Bowl winning touchdown.
He smiled, reveling in his imaginary sports hero status. He felt happy. No way would that Boggart be able to pull out his biggest fear.
He returned his attention to Boggart, expecting to see a very confused creature. Whoa! Will I actually get to see its true form if it can't find my fear? How cool would that be?
Instead, a buzzing sound filled the room. Chills went up Jimmy's back. His muscles tightened when his eyes locked on the source of the noise.
A giant wasp hovered in front of him. Its black, demonic eyes bore in on him.
Jimmy tried to raise his wand. An invisible force kept his arm down.
Go away. Go away!
The wasp flew closer.
Jimmy swallowed and backed up. His eyes widened when he saw its stinger. The thing was huge, sharp, and dripping with venom.
The buzzing drilled into his ears. The wasp nearly overwhelmed him.
"Riddikulus!" He screamed. "Riddikulus!"
Nothing happened.
The wasp dove at him.
Jimmy scampered back . . . and tripped. He gasped and threw up his hands as the stinger plunged toward him.
"Riddikulus!"
The wasp halted in mid-air. A huge goofy grin spread across its face. An obscenely large tongue dangled from its mouth. "Duuuuh, duuuuh," it repeated over and over.
The class broke out in laughter.
Jimmy looked up at the comical wasp now, his chest heaving with deep breaths. He then looked to the floor, not wanting to even glimpse his laughing classmates.
Are they laughing at the wasp, or me?
"Come on, Mister O'Bannon." Mrs. Elmenbrooke lowered her wand. "Get up."
Hesitantly, he raised his head. The teacher looked down at him, disappointment etched in her wrinkled face.
"As I said at the start of class. Boggarts cannot hurt you. They are a simple manifestation of your fear. And if you can't conquer that which you fear the most, then you'd best pray no dark witch or wizard learns what it is, because they will use it against you, and it will most likely be in a situation where there is more at stake than just a passing grade."
Mrs. Elmenbrooke returned her attention to him. "Return to your seat, Mister O'Bannon."
With a snort, Jimmy picked himself off the floor. He took quick glances at the other students. More than a few chuckled amongst themselves. That prick Merak Mather's body convulsed with silent laughter.
Jimmy couldn't bring himself to look at his best friends, especially Rosa and Jared. Half their family served in the U.S. Aurors Bureau. What must they think of a guy scared to death by a damn wasp?
He dropped into his seat, slumping forward.
"C'mon, Jimmy. Don't worry about it."
He ignored Rosa, ignored the rest of the world for that matter.
If only the rest of the world would ignore him.
XXXXX
"Bzzzz. Bzzzz"
Jimmy's head shook with rage as he walked by one of the long tables in the Priscilla Primrose Communal Hall. He glared at a trio of sniggering boys.
"Bzzzz. Bzzzz."
"Look out. The big bad wasp is gonna getcha!"
"Waaa! I want my mommy!"
"Shut up!" Jimmy's voice carried across the hall. Even Headmistress Esmeralda and the Salem faculty sitting up front turned and stared at him.
Face scrunched with anger, he stomped toward the exit and shoved the door open.
"Jimmy, stop letting them get to you," urged Rosa.
"I'm sick of this crap!" He whirled around, causing Rosa, Jared and Artimus to come to a sudden halt. "Two days! Two friggin' days this has been going on! Everywhere I go people keep giving me crap about that damn Boggart! Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 'Run, Jimmy. The wasp is gonna get you.' I've had it!"
"Well, um, we haven't been making fun of you," Artimus muttered.
"Yeah. You guys are the only three who aren't." He spun around and resumed his angry gait. "I hate this friggin' place."
"C'mon, Jimmy." Rosa hurried after him. "You don't mean that."
"Yes I do."
"Okay, man. So you're afraid of wasps," said Jared. "Could be worse. You could be afraid of mice like Ivy Chatham."
"Oh, that makes me feel so much better."
"All right, look." Rosa strode next to him, her face stiffening. "You need to do something to get your mind off all this crap, if just for the simple fact I'm tired of you snapping at us all the time. Jared, Art. Take Jimmy in back of Blazenrowe Hall and do some practice dueling with him. You always enjoy that." She slapped him on the arm.
"Maybe I don't wanna," he grumbled.
"I don't care if you want to or not. You're gonna do it. My parents always say a dueling is a great way to relieve stress."
"What about you, cuz?" asked Jared.
Rosa turned to him. "Sorry. I need to get to the library and do some research on my Ancient Runes homework. You guys are on your own."
"Fine by me." Jared gave her a wry grin. "Means I actually have a chance of winning with you not around."
Rosa stuck her tongue out at her cousin. "I'll see you guys later."
She headed down a tree and flower-lined dirt path toward the library.
"C'mon." Jared slapped Jimmy on the shoulder as they walked across the rolling lawn. "Rosa's right. You'll feel better after casting a bunch of hexes and jinxes. Heck, if you want, you can picture me as all the assholes who've been giving you grief over the past two days."
Jimmy turned to him with a smile. "Thanks, man." He gave him a friendly elbow jab to the shoulder.
They continued across the lawn and past numerous colonial-style structures. Jimmy felt his anger start to fade. Rosa was right. A good twenty or thirty minutes of dueling before their next class would help him forget about this stupid crap with the wasp.
And what about after we're done dueling? Will the rest of the school forget about it?
He lowered his head, examining the green grass around his feet.
"Look out, O'Bannon! There's a wasp near you!"
His head snapped up. He spotted a roundish boy with black hair and a superior air about him standing next to a gnarled tree. He was laughing hysterically.
"Don't pee yourself, O'Bannon," Merak Mather chortled. "I'm sure Mrs. Elmenbrooke will save you from the big bad wasp again."
O'Bannon clenched his fists. He took a step toward Mather.
"Yo, c'mon, man." Jared stepped in front of him. "To hell with him. Mather's a dick and everyone knows it. Let's just go duel."
"Be sure to keep him away from any wasp nests, Diaz," Mather shouted after them.
Jimmy felt his face redden.
"Up yours, Mather!" Jared glowered at him.
"Well, nice to know you have bodyguards, O'Bannon. You need them here since you don't have Mommy and Daddy to protect you from wasps. Or maybe your parents are a couple big chickens, too. Maybe they cower under tables when a wasp comes in the house. Maybe that's why you wound up such a . . ."
Jimmy whipped around and yanked out his wand. He bellowed the first curse that came to mind.
A yellow bolt struck Mather in the face. The boy stumbled backward. Greenish scales spread across his face. Goldfish-like eyes bulged from his sockets. Mather gasped in shock as he felt his scaly face.
"Whoa, cool."
Jimmy barely heard Jared's comment. He let loose a war cry and charged Mather. The jagoff continued to stand in a daze, hands slowly rubbing his face.
Jimmy crashed into him. He grabbed hold of Mather's robes and rammed him against the tree. Mather grunted as the air shot out his mouth. Jimmy reared back and drove his fist into the boy's gut. Mather gasped and sank to his knees. Jimmy pulled him back up.
"Listen up, asshole!" he screamed in Mather's face. "I'm sick and tired of your crap! I'm sick and tired of everyone getting on me about that stupid Boggart! I've had enough of it! You got it!? You tell everyone the next time I hear a buzz, the next time I hear anything about wasps or Boggarts, I'm gonna kick some ass! YOU GOT THAT, YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!?!"
"Uhhh." Mather gave him a barely perceptible nod.
Teeth bared, Jimmy yanked Mather away from the tree and flung him onto the ground. He stomped off, scowling.
That oughta end this crap.
"You're gonna be sorry for this, you damn Mudblood!"
Jimmy froze. Fury built up inside him. His body shook. Slowly, he turned to find Mather trying to get to his feet, his big goldfish eyes blazing with anger.
"You want more, dumbass? You got it!"
He stalked toward Mather, pounding his right fist into his left palm.
"JIMMY O'BANNON!!!"
The words shook the very air. Jimmy's head snapped to the right.
Headmistress Athena Esmeralda stood on a small rise twenty feet away, hands on her hips, a deadly glare aimed at him.
"Aw crap."
XXXXX
Jimmy's teeth ground together as he scrubbed the pot in the kitchen sink. After inspecting it to make sure every last speck of grim had been removed, he slammed it on the counter next to him. Snorting, he looked back at the sink, and the dozen other pots he still had to clean . . . without magic!
This sucks.
He grabbed another pot and began scrubbing. His arm furiously moved back and forth as he recalled his time in Headmistress Esmeralda's office yesterday. The normally even-tempered witch practically peeled the paint of the walls, using words like "shocked" and "disgusted" to describe his assault on Merak Mather.
He tried to plead his case. "He was ragging on me about how I handled the Boggart in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Everyone has! I'm sick of it!"
"And you think that gives you the right to attack another student?"
"Yeah!"
That had been the wrong thing to say. Instead of just one week's detention, the Headmistress tacked on additional week for that comment.
He slammed another clean pot on the counter, the clang echoing through the kitchen.
"Are you trying to make us deaf?" a servant elf by one of the stoves grumbled. "Place those pots on the counter quietly."
Jimmy just grunted in response. He grabbed another pot, scowling as he thought of Headmistress Esmeralda. Unlike the principal at his old Muggle elementary school, he actually liked the old witch. She made a habit of walking the campus, conversing with students, asking how they were doing, offering advice.
Now he was totally pissed off at her. She hadn't been the one to put up with two days of pointing and snickers and that stupid, "Bzzzz. Bzzzz." What did she expect? For him to ignore it? To forget the embarrassment of cowering before a giant wasp?
It wasn't even a real wasp. It was a damn Boggart.
He carefully placed the clean pot on the counter and clenched the edge of the sink. Would he ever live this down?
Jimmy finished all his assigned washing by 9:30. He snatched his jacket off the coat rack in the corner and put in on.
"Be sure to be here at seven o'clock tomorrow night," ordered Mumnub, the servant elf in charge of the kitchen.
"Yeah, I'll be here." Jimmy added under his breath, "I'll be here for the next two friggin' weeks."
He pounded up the stairs, not caring if his heavy footfalls bothered the servant elves. He shoved open the door and emerged into the empty Communal Hall.
"Good night, Mister O'Bannon," said a cheery voice from above.
Jimmy grunted, not bothering to look up at the ghost of Priscilla Primrose.
Hands shoved in his coat pockets, he strode toward the exit.
That's when he noticed someone standing in the doorway. He looked up and stopped.
It was Headmistress Esmeralda.
"Jimmy. I'd like to see you in my office."
He sighed, shoulders slumping. "Okay." What the hell now?
He followed the Headmistress across the darkened campus to the Administration Building. Neither one said a word until they entered her office.
"Take a seat." She waved him to one of the high-back leather chairs in front of her desk.
Jimmy sat down. The Headmistress folded her hands on her desk and leaned forward. "I spoke with Mrs. Elmenbrooke at dinner tonight. She told me what you saw when you faced that Boggart in her class. A wasp, huh?"
Jimmy sighed and looked away. He hadn't mentioned to Headmistress Esmeralda what the Boggart had become yesterday. He just said it had been "something stupid."
"I don't see why that should embarrass you. I think a swarm of wasps coming at you would be pretty frightening."
"It was one," he muttered.
"I beg your pardon."
"It was just one." He turned back to her. "One stinkin' wasp. And I wussed out against it."
"Wussed out?" Headmistress Esmeralda's eyes flickered back and forth. "A Muggle phrase, I take it? I haven't heard it before, but in this context I think I know what you mean."
She took a short breath before continuing. "Any particular reason why you fear wasps?"
Jimmy shifted uncomfortably.
"Jimmy." The Headmistress' voice softened, unlike the last time he sat in this office. "It's just you and me in here. No one else at this school needs to know about this."
He sighed and chewed on his bottom lip. "Um . . . when I was three, I was outside playing with some toy trucks, crashing them into one another. There was a wasp nest in one of the underhangs of our house, and I guess the noise I was making pi . . . er, irritated them. Three of them flew down and stung me."
"I can certainly see how an incident like that would make you phobic about wasps."
"Yeah, but the thing is, I hardly remember it. I was just three at the time. The only reason I know most of the details is because my parents told them to me. So how can I be . . . scared of wasps when I don't even remember them stinging me?"
Headmistress Esmeralda straightened in her chair. "We witches and wizards are capable of amazing things. We've solved mysteries that Muggles can't even imagine. But despite all our abilities, this is one mystery we haven't been able to solve." She tapped a finger against her temple. "How the mind works. What is it about the brain that makes one person brilliant and another . . . well, not so much? Why do we dream the things we do? Why do we forget certain events in our lives and not others? Why is it someone or some thing we haven't thought of in years suddenly pops into our head? And why do we fear the things we fear?"
Jimmy could only answer with a shrug.
Headmistress Esmeralda went on. "Your conscious mind may not remember being stung by those wasps when you were three, but your subconscious mind does, and apparently it's caused you to fear them."
Jimmy scowled and shook his head. "It's stupid. I'm thirteen-years-old. I shouldn't be afraid of a stupid bug. I mean, what would . . ." He cut himself off, pressing his lips tightly and looking over at a stone pensive sitting on the other side of the office.
"You're worried what your classmates will think. Understandable. At your age the opinion of your peers is sometimes the most important thing in the world."
Jimmy let out a long breath. "Actually, the two that concern me the most are Jared and Rosa."
Headmistress Esmeralda drew her head back slightly. "Jared and Rosa? But they're two of your best friends. I can't imagine they'd make fun of you over what happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"They're not. But who knows what they're really thinking about me? Jared's mom's an auror. Both of Rosa's parents are aurors. They all fought in the Big War. They fought Death Eaters and werewolves and giants. They're heroes, for God's sake. Jared and Rosa look up to them. Do you think they'd really think highly of some Muggle-born who gets scared out of his mind by a wasp?"
"Do you seriously believe Jared's and Rosa's parents weren't scared when they fought in the war?"
"Scared? How can anyone who fought Death Eaters be scared of anything?"
To Jimmy's surprise, a little smile creased Headmistress Esmeralda's lips. "You know who Kensington Kadermass is, don't you?"
"Sure. He was one of the greatest heroes in the war against the Adirondack giants."
The Headmistress nodded. "Would it interest you to know that I had a great-uncle who happened to be friends with Kadermass?"
"No way." Jimmy's eyes widened.
"It's true. When I was a little girl, way back when, my grandfather would tell me stories about some of my great-uncle's adventures with Kadermass. One of them was rather funny. Apparently one night they were in a tavern drinking liberal amounts of ale. Well, large quantities of ale have been known to loosen tongues, and Kadermass told my great-uncle about his greatest fear."
Jimmy's face scrunched. After reading about Kensington Kadermass' exploits during the wizard/Adirondack giant war, he had a hard time believing anything scared that guy.
"When Kadermass was six," Headmistress Esmeralda continued, "he was playing with some friends in a field near his home. He was running through some rather tall weeds and suddenly, several crows flew up in front of him, squawking something fierce. One of them actually scratched Kadermass' face. He ran home crying to his parents. Ever since that day, he remained deathly afraid of crows."
Jimmy blinked, trying to comprehend what his headmistress had told him. Kensington Kadermass, one of the greatest American wizarding heroes, was afraid of crows? Crows!?!
"No. No way. Him? I mean, everything he did. He took out three giants single-handedly in one battle. And he was scared of crows?"
"Do you think any less of Kensington Kadermass knowing this?"
Jimmy opened his mouth. It hung open in silence. He didn't know how to respond to that. On the one hand, how can a guy who fought giants be afraid of a stupid bird? On the other, it didn't change the fact he'd fought giants, and defeated them.
"Do you know what the real meaning of courage is, Jimmy? Courage does not mean the absence of fear. It means you are afraid, but you are able to put that fear off to the side and do what needs to be done."
Jimmy stared at Headmistress Esmeralda, working his jaw back and forth. "So you mean people like Kensington Kadermass and Jared's and Rosa's parents were afraid when they went into battle?"
"Undoubtedly. Only a fool wouldn't be afraid of fighting giants or Death Eaters."
She took a breath before continuing. "Everyone has fears. Multitudes of them. Some are greater than others, some more manageable than others. The key is not to let them rule our lives. Kadermass and the Infantes and Diazes surely feared they could die in their respective wars, yet they went out and fought anyway. Even that which we fear most can be managed. Kensington Kadermass could have decided to live as a shut-in and never go outside in order to avoid crows. Yet, obviously, he didn't. You, Jimmy, you could have decided never to go outside when the weather is warm, when you have a greater chance of encountering wasps. But you don't. You may be afraid of wasps, but you do not let that fear rule your life."
Headmistress Esmeralda glanced at the ceiling for a moment. "Let me ask you this. If Rosa or Jared or Artimus or any of your friends were threatened by a wasp, or a swarm of them, would you be able to put aside your fear and help them?"
Jimmy froze in his seat, remembering the numbing horror that filled him when that giant wasp hovered over him in Defense Against the Dark Arts. "I . . . I don't know."
"You'd let them be stung? You'd let them writhe on the ground screaming in agony while they were attacked?"
He looked down at his lap, picturing Rosa and Artimus and Jared and Ursa Oberlin and Cindy Walker flailing and screaming while a dark cloud of wasps surrounded them. The veins in his neck stood out. Wouldn't he want someone to help him if he were in that situation? Could he really just stand by, or worse, run away, while they suffered like that?
"No," he forced the words through his lips.
"What was that?"
"No." He answered more emphatically. "No. I'd . . . I'd try to help them."
Headmistress Esmeralda smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. It's not our intention to embarrass any student here with that Boggart exercise. In fact, I find it one of the most important lessons in Defense Against the Darks Arts. We all have to be ready to confront our greatest fears, and not let them conquer us. And you will find that over the years, what you fear the most will change. At thirteen, it's wasps. At thirty it will likely be something much more serious, something you can't defeat with magic. Something that requires an inner strength to deal with. My motivation for telling you this comes from my own greatest fear."
Jimmy's eyes widened. Like Jared's and Rosa's parents, the headmistress also fought in The Big War. He also couldn't imagine her being afraid of anything.
But after what she said about Kensington Kadermass . . .
Headmistress Esmeralda rose from her chair and walked across the brightly colored carpeting of her office. She waved her wand. From the far corner of her office a chest floated over the floor and landed a few feet from her. Tension knotted Jimmy's shoulders. He recognized it immediately. It was the chest from Defense Against the Dark Arts, the one that contained the Boggart.
The latches unsnapped. The lid flew open. Jimmy gripped the arm rests of his chair, steeling himself for the sight of a giant wasp.
Instead a figure in a dark robe floated out of the chest. Jimmy cranked an eyebrow as he studied it. The hood completely covered its face. Thin fingers protruded from the sleeves. The figure held a wand in its right hand.
He then looked to the headmistress. The breath stuck in his throat. The witch's eyes widened in . . . fear? Never in his life would he have expected to see Headmistress Athena Esmeralda scared.
Her face tightened. She lifted her wand. "Riddikulus!"
The figure's robe changed from all black to yellow with polka dots. Laughter exploded from the headmistress' mouth. The brightly colored figure slipped back into the chest, which Headmistress Esmeralda promptly closed.
"What was that?"
She looked to him, her face a mask of seriousness. "That was my greatest fear. The return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Jimmy held his breath. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? As in Lord Voldemort? As in the most evil dark wizard to ever walk the face of the earth?
"Wait? Return? But he's dead. I mean, Harry Potter killed him." Even as he said it, a strange feeling niggled the back of his mind. While Harry Potter may be hailed as a hero in the Wizarding World, he still couldn't fathom how a one-year-old baby could defeat someone as powerful as Lord Voldemort.
"That is what many in the Wizarding World believe. Or rather, what they'd like to believe. But there are those of us, in this country, in Britain, in every part of the world, who feel in our bones that he's still out there. A shadow of his former self, perhaps, but still dangerous. Still trying to find a way to regain his lost powers. Craving to pick up where he left off."
Headmistress Esmeralda returned to her seat. "I don't say this simply to frighten you, Jimmy. I say it to you, and to others, so that you are prepared."
"Prepared? For what?"
"If we are right, Merlin help us if we're right, and . . . You-Know-Who does return, we must do everything in our power to oppose him. During the last war, You-Know-Who succeeded in scaring many into inaction. Tortures, mass murders, atrocities too grisly to describe to a thirteen-year-old. If he does return, we can't afford to be paralyzed by fear. We must be willing to stand against him. Because if we lose, our world, and I guarantee you the Muggle world, too, will suffer in ways we can't begin to imagine. You-Know-Who's magic was some of the most powerful the world has ever seen. But one of his greatest weapons was not a curse. It was a simple emotion. Fear. But hopefully, the lessons we are giving you here at Salem will let you and your friends defeat that weapon if, Merlin forbid, the time ever comes when you must face it."
Jimmy swallowed. "You . . . you're saying you expect me to fight in a war?"
Headmistress Esmeralda sighed. "I pray you never have to. I pray that my greatest fear is unfounded. That You-Know-Who is truly dead. But if he's not, and if he finds a way to return, I want the students at this school prepared to face him and his forces."
She leaned back in her chair. "Now, it's getting late. You need to return to your dorm and get some rest. You're going to have a busy next couple of weeks between your classes, homework, hockey practice . . . and, of course, your detention."
"Yes, Headmistress." He nodded to her and got to his feet.
"Good night, Jimmy."
"Good night."
He exited the office and closed the door. Then he just stood there, staring at the floor, dwelling on the headmistress' words. Here he'd always thought heroes like Kensington Kadermass or, from the Muggle World, George Washington, weren't afraid of anything. It was hard to picture them being scared.
But I guess when spells are flying, or bullets in the Muggle world, it would be scary. Who knows if you're gonna get hit and killed?
He then thought about Headmistress Esmeralda's fear that Voldemort could return, how she wanted the students prepared just in case.
A shiver went up his spine. Would he really have to fight Voldemort and his forces one day? He knew from his History of Magic class that some very powerful wizards and witches around the world opposed that psycho . . . and died! So what chance did some Muggle-born hockey player from Boston have against him?
Images formed in his mind. Boston in smoldering ruin. Bodies strewn across shattered, debris-filled streets. Bodies of his friends, his family. All dead because Voldemort won. Because not enough people stood up to the bastard.
He exhaled loudly and looked to the ceiling. He couldn't believe he was having these thoughts. Couldn't believe that, should Headmistress Esmeralda be right, he could find himself in the middle of a war. He could wind up getting killed!
Jimmy O'Bannon closed his eyes, wondering if that time ever came, if he could put aside his fear and do what needed to be done.
- THE END –
AUTHOR'S NOTE: You can follow more of Jimmy O'Bannon's adventures in my fics (in chronological order) "The Puck Drops Here," "The Luna Effect," "Air Of Disharmony," "Dark Horizon" and "Midnight's Blood." You might consider this story a companion piece to my other O'Bannon stories.