Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Seven: Potions and Fears

Malfoy eventually turned up in halfway through Potions class with his arm bandaged and in a sling, getting special treatment from Snape because of his "injury." Gwyn had half a mind to give him a real injury or at least take up on her mother's idea and slip some voice-changing potion into his cup some evening during supper. The idea was almost too tempting to pass up.

Still, it wasn't worth the effort, since she would probably have to steal some ingredients from the Potions Master and she'd rather face a dragon without a wand than get caught stealing from Snape.

With a sigh, Gwyn returned to what she was doing and kept her attention on the Shrinking Solution that they were making, noticing that Malfoy was bullying Harry and Ron while they were forced to help him with his potion.

Stirring her own potion, Gwyn whisked it around in her cauldron as she added the dash of leech juice that was needed, turning it an acid green. Satisfied, she ladled some potion into a vial, scribbling her name on it so that she could turn it in just as Snape moved around the room, looking at various potions so he could criticise.

Unfortunately, right next to Hermione and Gwyn, Neville's potion was a mess. Instead of being the acid green that it was supposed to be, it had turned a bright orange.

Which gave Snape the perfect opportunity to attack Neville.

"Orange, Longbottom, orange," he said as he ladled some and dropped it back into the cauldron. "Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rate spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Hermione rushed to Neville's rescue before Neville started to cry, as he looked as though he were about to do. "Please, sir. I could help Neville put it right—"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger. Longbottom, at the end of this lesson, we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Gwyn actually glared at Snape in anger; it was bad enough that he had to bully Neville, but to threaten him with his beloved pet was another thing entirely. Once Snape had moved away, Gwyn gave Hermione a look and the two girls began to help Neville discreetly with the potion, giving him instructions underneath their breaths.

Hermione was better at Gwyn at potions, so Gwyn mostly kept an eye out for Snape, warning them when he was coming. But she could practically sense frustration pouring out from Harry and when she glanced over at the boys, she saw Malfoy's smug look and Harry's angry one.

"You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's. . . ."

"I think we're good," Gwyn said, casting a glance at Neville's—thankfully—green potion.

"Thanks," Neville whispered gratefully as they moved away from the potions to clean their equipment. Gwyn went straight to Harry and Ron, joining them at one of the stone basins, where they were cleaning their own ladles while talking quietly.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

"Malfoy's just running his mouth, is all," Ron said savagely. "Making stuff up to make Harry do something stupid." Gwyn raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry curiously.

"It's just some stuff about Black," Harry explained just as quietly. "He said something about how I should want revenge against him, that I should be out there looking for him."

"Why?" Gwyn asked, bewildered. "What's Black done to you?"

"Nothing that I know about," Harry answered, shaking his head as they cleaned up their stuff and moved around to join the rest of their class. Snape was holding Trevor, his black eyes glittering.

"Everyone gather round and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad," he said. "If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done something wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

Gwyn gripped Harry's hand tightly, her eyes on the potion as Snape ladled some into a spoon. He shot her a small, consoling smile, squeezing her hand back and she gently eased her grip on his hand.

Snape trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat, which he gulped and then with a pop, turned into a tadpole. Gwyn released a sigh of relief, releasing Harry's hand as she applauded with everybody else.

The Potions Master didn't look pleased as he retrieved a small bottle from his robes and tipped a few drops over Trevor and with another pop, the tadpole became a fully grown toad once again. "Five points from Gryffindor," he growled. The applause ceased. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Resisting the urge to curse Snape from behind his back, Gwyn gathered up her belongings and joined her friends out the door. All the way to the entrance hall, Ron was ranting about Snape's injustice.

"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!"

"It wouldn't have mattered, Ron, Snape's not exactly know for his fairness," Gwyn pointed out. "Most likely, it would've given Snape a reason to take even more points away. Just let it go."

"Where is Hermione?" Ron asked, looking around. Gwyn and Harry stopped to look behind them, startled to discover that Hermione was no longer following them. "She was right behind us."

"She's been doing that a lot lately," Gwyn observed, frowning. It was like one minute Hermione was standing right next to them and the next, she had completely vanished.

"Tell me about it," Ron grumbled.

"There she is!" Harry said, pointing.

The bushy-haired witch was hurrying up the stairs. Gwyn noticed that she was tucking something underneath her robes as she hurried to rejoin them.

"Sorry about that," she said, almost too brightly. "I had to go back for something. Oh, no. . . ."

Hermione's bag had split down one of the ends, causing a few books to fall out. Gwyn went to help her, picking some of the books up as Ron shook his head at the dozen or so books crammed into the bag. "Why are you carrying all these around with you?"

"You know how many subjects I'm taking," Hermione reminded him as Harry joined the girls to help them. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?" She handed him a few of her books.

"But—but you haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Give it up, Ron," Gwyn sighed. If Hermione wanted to tell them how she was getting around her impossible schedule, then she would have told them by now.

"I hope there's something good for lunch," Hermione announced, changing the subject hastily. "I'm starving." Without another word, she headed towards the Great Hall, leaving Gwyn and the boys standing on the stairs, staring at her incredulously.

Ron looked at the other two. "Do you get the feeling that Hermione's not telling us something?"

"Like Gwyn said," Harry said, shrugging. "Give it up."

"If she is not telling us something, then it's for a good reason and we'll find that out if and when she decides to tell us," Gwyn told him as she led the boys towards the Great Hall. "So, what do you think Lupin's class is going to be like, anyway?"

--

Whatever Gwyn had been expecting from Lupin's class, it definitely wasn't what happened. Once the students had gathered in the Defence class, Lupin took them to the staffroom, where there was an old wardrobe, wobbling and bouncing off of the wall. Several students jumped back at the sound, giving it nervous looks.

"Nothing to worry about," Lupin assured them. "There's a boggart in there." Gwyn looked at the wardrobe in curiosity, not really knowing what this particular creature was, but from the way that people were regarding the wardrobe, she was probably the only curious person in the room. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gape between 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?"

"It's a shape-shifter," Hermione said, raising her hand. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us the most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Lupin said with a smile. "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 fears. This means," he added as Neville gave a small moan of fear, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Gwyn looked at her best friend while Hermione jumped up and down next to them. Harry looked uncertain. "Uh . . . because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," Lupin agreed. Hermione looked disappointed as she lowered her hand. "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." A few people chuckled at the image. "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 that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please . . . riddikulus!" He spoke the incantation slowly and clearly.

"Riddikulus!" everyone said together.

"Good," Lupin praised. "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." As Neville hesitantly walked forward, the wardrobe shook again. He threw a terrified look at it. "Right, Neville, first things first: what would you say frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's mouth opened, but due to his fear, nothing came out. Gwyn winced sympathetically as the wardrobe shook again.

"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," Lupin said, not unkindly.

"Professor Snape," Neville said, though his voice was hardly even audible. Still, it caused a few people to chuckle and Lupin smiled good-naturedly.

"Yes, frightens all," he said. "Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?" he queried.

"Yes." Neville nodded, looking terrified. "But I don't want that boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," Lupin assured him. "I want you to picture her clothes. Only her clothes, very clearly, in your mind. We don't need to hear," he added as Neville began to speak. "As long as you see it, we'll see it. Now, when I open that wardrobe, here's what I want you to do." He walked over to whisper something in Neville's ear. "Can you do that?"

A smile twitched at the corner of Gwyn's mouth as she watched the wardrobe in anticipation.

"Wand at the ready," Lupin said as he flicked his own to unlock the wardrobe. Professor Snape walked out, his face already twisted in displeasure. "Think, Neville, think."

"Riddikulus!" Neville squeaked and a loud crack emerged, sending Snape into a long, green dressed with a vulture topped hat, carrying a red handbag.

Laughter exploded from the class as they each faced the boggart going on by one to face the boggart as it changed from Snape to a mummy, then to a banshee, a severed hand, a giant spider, until finally it came to a stop right next to Harry and Gwyn.

Just before it faced either of them, Lupin rushed forward. "Here!" he roared and it turned into a silvery orb. "Riddikulus! Neville, finish him off!"

As the orb turned into a cockroach, Neville darted forward, with more confidence than Gwyn had ever seen him with, and then Snape was back. "Riddikulus!" he shouted, releasing a giant laugh as Snape was once again dressed in his grandmother's clothes before it exploded.

"Excellent!" Lupin said, sounded thrilled. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone. . . . Let me see . . . five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart—ten for Neville because he did it twice . . . and five each to Harry and Hermione."

"But I didn't do anything," Harry protested.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class," Lupin reminded him. "Very well, everyone, excellent work. Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarise it for me to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Gwyn silently left the classroom, her thoughts on what had just happened, why Lupin had stopped the boggart. For Harry, it was the obvious. If Gwyn didn't know Harry personally, she would say that his greatest fear would probably be Voldemort, but she did know him and knew how badly the dementors had affected him.

But why had Lupin stopped her from facing it?

And the greater question that Gwyn had pressing down on her heart was, what was her greatest fear? What did she fear most in the world?

Even Gwyn didn't know the answer to that.