A/N: Hello, good readers! I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you who have reviewed, favourited, followed or just taken the time to read my story. I had planned this chapter to be a celebration of reaching 100 reviews. I say planned because, alas, I appear to be stuck at 99 and I don't want to keep you waiting any longer, so... yay! 99 reviews! Okay I'll stop rambling now and let you get on with the story.


Chapter 8: Do You Feel Ready

Harry and Hermione arrived early to their next Defence against the Dark Arts class.

It wasn't by chance. In fact, Harry had been asked to arrive at this time in a letter he had received at lunch. Apparently, Lupin had something he wanted to discuss with him before the lesson began.

Hermione had tagged along, just in case it had anything to do with the matter they had discussed a few days ago.

When they entered the room, they found that the desks had all been shifted to one side, suggesting the lesson later would be another practical one. Professor Lupin currently had his back to the door and was working with something on the front desk.

Harry found himself looking at the werewolf in a new light. He had always had a lot of respect for the man, even before he began helping him with the dementors. Now that he knew his teacher's secret however, Harry found his opinion of him reaching new heights.

From what Hermione had said about the wizarding world's attitude to werewolves, it sounded eerily similar to how Harry had been treated by the Dursleys. Looked down on because of something out of your control, greeted with mistrust by anyone you met, forced to dress in rags all the time. That was pretty much a regular day at Number 4.

Harry found he was able to understand the werewolf's plight and that understanding inspired even more respect for him.

"Professor, you wanted to see me?" said Harry, breaking the silence.

Lupin turned to face them and a tired smile crossed his face. "Ah Harry, good to see you. You too, Hermione," he greeted, gesturing for them to enter, "Come in, come in. I have something I want to talk to you about."

The two students entered and approached the front desk. As they moved forward, Harry was able to get a good view of what was on the desk. He frowned at the sight of the very familiar packing case and turned to lupin. "Professor, is that what I think it is?" he asked.

Lupin turned and patted the case. "Yes," he confirmed, "I've decided that, with the exams so close, it would be beneficial for the class to go over the topics we haven't covered in a while."

"You mean we're facing another boggart?" Harry said.

"Yes, actually that's what I wanted to talk to you about," clarified Lupin, looking at Harry with a curious expression, "It is likely that you'll face the boggart, at some point in the lesson, and I'm wondering how confident you feel about going up against a dementor in front of the class."

Harry gulped, "Do you mean... with a Patronus?" he asked nervously, thinking of the feeble silver mist that he could barely conjure.

However, Lupin smiled and shook his head, "No, we're aiming to banish the boggart, so we will be using the Riddikulus spell again, but I think we can both agree that a dementor is far worse than whatever will appear for anyone else. The despair that it would inspire could affect everyone's ability to face their fears. I need to know if you feel ready."

Harry breathed a small sigh of relief and nodded, "I think I can manage that Professor." If he was facing it as a boggart, instead of as a dementor, then he could handle it. Plus, it would help him prove to his classmates that he hadn't fallen from his broom because he was weak. Now, he just had to think of a way to make a dementor funny, piece of cake.

Lupin was nodding. "Good, good. Now, the both of you should get yourselves ready. The rest of the class will be showing up soon."

They nodded and moved over to the side, where they began to discuss how they would approach the next lesson. It was while they were considering the possibilities of a funny dementor, that Harry noticed they were focusing entirely on his boggart.

"Hermione," he began, his brow furrowed. She turned to look at him and he began to fidget, this wasn't exactly something small he was asking, "What... what would your boggart look like? I mean, we both know what I'll be facing, but what about you?"

That question seemed to catch her off guard and she stared at him for a few seconds before she reacted. When she did, her eyes turned to the ground and she shrunk into herself subconsciously.

"I... I don't really want to say. It's a little embarrassing." Her cheeks were a bit pink and she seemed determined to avoid his gaze.

"Why not?" asked Harry, even more curious now, "You can tell me. I promise, whatever it is, I won't laugh at you."

She finally looked back at him and gave him a small smile, "I know you wouldn't Harry, but..." She sighed and turned away again, "I just don't really want to talk about it. I'm still not even sure how I could possibly make it funny."

"Maybe I could help you then," offered Harry.

She smiled at him again and shook her head, "I... I'm sure I'll think of something Harry, I have to. I'm more worried about people knowing what it is."

Harry nodded and submitted to the fact that Hermione wasn't going to reveal this to him. It was obvious that she was deeply embarrassed by it and more than a little afraid of what he would think of her if he knew about it. He could understand that, this was her greatest fear they were talking about.

At this point, several of their classmates had begun to file into the room and were conversing quietly in small groups. The two of them spotted Neville milling about on his own in the corner and moved over to speak to him.

While they waited for the lesson to begin, Harry managed to catch Ron staring at them from where he stood with Seamus and Dean. Strangely, Harry could find no anger in his eyes. Instead, he had a puzzled look on his face, as if he was considering coming over to talk to them.

Harry was about to point this out to Hermione, when Lupin cleared his throat and began the lesson. He started by repeating the explanation he'd given Harry and Hermione earlier about the closeness of the exams and the need to revisit their knowledge of boggarts.

The next part of the lesson passed in a similar fashion to the first one. Students were called forth one by one and had to turn their greatest fear into something comical. Several students who hadn't had a shot at the creature the first time were given another chance, while there were also a few repeat performances (most notably the return of Grandma Snape).

It was after Parvati once again beheaded her mummy that it happened. The disembodied head rolled around for a bit, before it came to stop a few feet from Hermione.

Harry wasn't sure what made him do it. Maybe it was the look of sheer terror that crossed Hermione's face. Maybe it was the fact that she felt ashamed of her fear and he didn't want people to see what it was. Maybe it was the memory of how uncertain she sounded about facing it.

Regardless of why he did it, Harry found himself stepping between Hermione and the boggart, in a similar way to how Professor Lupin had stepped up in their first lesson.

There was a second of silence where everyone in the room stared at him, even the head, and then...

Crack!

The entire room gasped and a few of the girls screamed.

The severed head had transformed into a tall, hooded figure, which drew long rattling breaths that seemed to suck all warmth out out the air. The folds of black cloth shifted and a skeletal hand reached out towards him.

Everyone in the room shivered as they felt a sickening wave of despair wash over them and the temperature plummeted. Nobody could hope to face their fears now, their heads were filled with the worst of their memories, they had no hope...

"Riddikulus!" cried Harry.

Crack!

Everyone blinked in surprise as the Dementor stumbled on its long cloak, falling to its knees before Harry. It reached up and tried to scramble to its feet, but the lengths of black material were twisted around its body, preventing it from moving properly.

The room began to come to its senses and people started to smile uncertainly at the creature struggling on the floor. It lurched forward and groped in Harry's general direction, but fell to the floor again, unaccustomed to the feel of having legs.

Harry let out a small, nervous laugh.

The boggart exploded into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke.

"Excellent Harry, five points to Gryffindor!" Lupin said, moving to the front of the class and smiling, "And five points to everyone else who faced the boggart as well. That will be all today, I think. For homework, I want a review on all the topics we covered in our first term, on my desk by Monday."


Hermione trailed behind Harry and Neville on the way to dinner, her eyes fixed on the back of the boy-who-lived.

She still wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about what had happened in the previous lesson, but she was aware of the glances being sent at her and Harry by the rest of the class. She was more than a little frustrated at Harry for stepping in like he did. 'Does he think I can't handle myself?' she wondered. The idea that he might think of her as weak greatly irritated her, but she couldn't deny the warm feeling she got when she thought of him being concerned about her.

That warm feeling confused her and only added to her frustration at the whole situation. She already had enough to deal with, she didn't need to throw her puzzling thoughts about Harry into the mix.

Despite her uncertain feelings, she knew that she needed to have a talk with her best friend about this. So, just as they were about to reach the Great Hall, she stepped up beside him and grabbed his arm. He turned slightly and looked at her.

"We need to talk," she said simply, not needing to tell him what about.

He looked into her eyes for a second or two then nodded, telling Neville to go on ahead. They then made their way to a deserted classroom, far from the probing eyes they would find at dinner. Harry closed the door behind him and turned to face her.

She leaned against one of the desks and looked at the wall, not daring to look into his eyes for fear of what she might find. There was a moment of awkward silence before she finally spoke.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, getting straight to the point.

She heard him sigh and resisted the urge to turn to him. "I don't know," he admitted, "I guess I was just worried about what you said earlier. You didn't sound very confident and you obviously didn't want people to see... well whatever would have appeared."

The warmth returned as he expressed his concern for her, but she pushed it down angrily. 'This isn't the time!' she berated her mind. "It isn't that simple Harry," she said tersely, "You're not going to be there to help in the exam. I need to learn how to face this on my own and, to do that, I need to practice."

"I know, I'm sorry..."

She finally looked up at his words and immediately wished she hadn't. When she had dragged him in here, she had intended to scold him for interfering with her learning and thinking she was weak, but she just... couldn't.

His eyes were filled with concern for her and nervous guilt about what she was saying. The sight of such emotions was enough to cool her temper, but not enough to make her drop the matter.

"Harry I know you mean well," she started, still gazing into his eyes, "But, this is something I need to deal with on my own. I can't rely on you to step in front of me when I'm being assessed. Please, I need to face this alone." Her voice was becoming slightly pleading towards the end.

Harry just shook his head slightly, "Hermione, you're the most brilliant person I know, but it's obvious that you're terrified. Not just of facing this, but of what others will think if they find out." He took a step towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder before continuing, "I don't think being made to face whatever it is in front of the entire class would have been very helpful to you."

She couldn't fault the logic behind that and, as much as she wanted to be mad at him, he was right. She had been petrified at the thought of facing the boggart and she still had no idea how to make it funny. She was also sure that people would laugh at her if they saw it and the prospect of people laughing at what she feared most mortified her.

"You're right," she said softly, turning away again, "It probably wouldn't have been good for me to break down in front of half the year." She was only partly joking with this comment.

Harry ignored the weak attempt at humour. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" he questioned.

She met his eyes without fear this time and allowed his concern to wash over her. It made her feel oddly comfortable. She knew that he was genuinely concerned and would listen to her without laughing if she told him.

But, she still couldn't do it. It was just too embarrassing.

She gave him a half smile, which he returned. "I can't Harry, not until I'm sure that I'm right and I have a way to counter it."

He nodded in understanding. "Just... why don't you talk to Lupin about it," he advised, "Maybe he can give you a chance to practice on your own. Believe me, whatever it is, he won't laugh at you... and neither will I."

She frowned at the suggestion, it really was a good one. If anyone could help her with this, it was Professor Lupin. It actually wouldn't be that different from how he was helping Harry with the dementors and she knew that he wouldn't judge her, just like Harry wouldn't.

After a moments consideration, she nodded and Harry grinned at her. She found herself smiling back automatically. "Come on then," she said, leading him back towards the door, "We'd better get to dinner, I know how you get when you're hungry."

"I think you're mistaking me for Ron," he replied, just as his stomach gave a loud groan.

She laughed lightly and he shot her a mock glare, "Okay, it's official," he declared, "My gut has the worst timing."

She chuckled again and nodded. They were stood just outside the classroom and Hermione had a sudden impulse to hug him, which she acted on instantly.

He seemed a little taken aback by the contact, but she pulled back before he could react suitably. "Thank you," she said.

He frowned at her. "What for?" he asked.

"For helping me," she shrugged "I know I didn't seem very grateful for it, but I am."

He just smiled and said, "Anytime, Hermione."


A/N: Originally, I was just using the Defence lesson as a way of showing Harry's altered opinion towards Lupin after discovering his... condition. But, while re-reading PoA, I couldn't help but notice what Hermione's boggart took the shape of and decided to explore this more deeply than JKR did. In the end, a section that was meant to be short and concise ended up taking up a whole chapter. Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to read my story. As always, let me know what you think. Until next time, good readers.