Chapter 8: Boggart

Lyra smiled as she and her companions approached the corridor that held their Defense Classroom. For the first time in her Hogwarts experience, she found herself enjoying the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It was amazing what a competent instructor in that class could do. She liked Professor Lupin, the man that she had met on the train. He seemed a very nice man, and he was a good teacher. He tried to make the class fun for them and he didn't make them feel inferior. She had been slightly disappointed when her God-father had warned her that Mr. Remus Lupin was a Gryffindor, but so far, the man had not shown a bias against her House. She hoped it would stay that way. He was well-respected now by her Slytherins. It would be a pity if he were to put a step wrong with any of her Snakes.

She frowned in confusion when she entered the classroom. The usual desks were missing. She looked to the front of the room where Professor Lupin stood beside a bureau and her mind whirled. So, it was to be a day of practical application. She wondered what they were to fight against. Whatever it was must be in the bureau.

She and the Slytherin's stood off to one side of the room while the Gryffindor's made their way to the other side. It felt somehow like a line was drawn between them. It felt wrong to Lyra, but she didn't know how to bridge that gap. Theodore came to stand beside her and his proximity was a comfort in this strange new situation. Theodore was her unofficial Knight. He shielded her identity as the Prince of Slytherin from the rest of the School. It was rarely necessary though since the rest of the school didn't seem to play by the Old Ways, or at least the Gryffindor's didn't. Hufflepuff still did. She knew that Susan Bones was Hufflepuff's Prince, but Ernest Macmillan was the one she should acknowledge publicly to protect Susan. Just as her Slytherin's publicly acknowledge Theodore to protect her. The Ravenclaw Prince was Michael Corner and he could be acknowledged publicly, but so far, she had not done it. There had not yet been a formal meeting of the Prince's. With the fear created by the Dementors searching for Sirius Black, perhaps it was the time she considered it.

"Alright Class, welcome. Today, as I am sure you have noticed, we will be doing practical defense spells. Now, please put your books and bags aside, you'll just need your wands today," Remus Lupin began the class.

Once the students had obeyed Lupin smiled. "Now, who can tell me what a Boggart is?"

Lyra felt Pansy flinch behind her and the girl grabbed at the back of Lyra's school robes. It was a sure sign of distress coming from the Parkinson Heiress. She tuned out the droning textbook answer that Hermione Granger gave to the Professor and instead focused on her Slytherins. Pansy's eyes held fear. Millicent's held anger. Tracey looked frightened. Daphne's eyes held a steely sharp anger. Gregory looked frightened. Vincent looked frightened as well. Blaise was attempting to look unruffled but when his eyes met hers she could see that he was unwilling to air his fears in front of those he didn't trust.

That was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? It was bad enough to face your fear, but to do so in front of people that you didn't trust? No! It was unacceptable. She looked at Theodore and was pleased to see him looking over the Slytherins as well. He looked at her then and they maintained eye contact for several moments. His eyes widened when he finally realized what she needed him to do. She nodded then, pleased that he had caught on so quickly.

"Lyra, are you sure?" his voice asked gently, softly.

"Yes," she answered feeling Pansy vibrating with fear as they were ordered to get into line. The Gryffindors rushed to be first, so the Slytherins were left at the back of the line. They stood there in line, staring at each other for several moments even as the Gryffindors began to face the Boggart. Such silly fears the Lions had. Parvati Patil was afraid of a Snake. Ronald Weasley was afraid of a Spider. At least Neville Longbottom was afraid of something worthy of fear. Her God-father, Severus Snape, was a truly formidable Wizard. Though she doubted that Neville had a clue as to that. He just feared Snape sneering at him in Potions class. Potter's Boggart was fascinating and worthy of fear. It was a Dementor and she swiftly understood the symbolism. Potter was afraid to fail. Hidden inside the Boy Who Lived was a fear to fail and that meant there was also a drive to succeed. It was interesting, fascinating, and she wished that she had not learned one more thing about Harry Potter to add to the growing list of things to like about him.

"Well now that Gryffindor has had a turn," Professor Lupin announced. "Let's give Slytherin House time to have some fun," Lupin announced.

"I'm afraid that we can't do that Professor Lupin," Theodore spoke up. He was careful to keep his tone very respectful, for which Lyra was grateful. "Slytherin House will not be participating in this classroom exercise."

Lyra felt the agitation of the Gryffindor's immediately. Confusion and fury seemed to vibrate through them. Hermione Granger was watching Theodore Nott curiously, wondering why he was speaking on behalf of all the Slytherin's in the room. Harry Potter was looking from Theodore to her, his green eyes narrowed upon where her hand rested on Theodore's right wrist. It wasn't his wand arm. He was left-handed the same as she, but she didn't think that Potter knew that. Ronald Weasley was sneering at them, but Lyra could ignore that easily. He was always sneering at her and the other Slytherin students.

"Mr. Nott, I'm afraid that is not your decision to make," Professor Lupin stated firmly. He was clearly flummoxed by the situation but trying to assert his control over the class.

Lyra gently stroked the inside of Theo's wrist, a warning to remain polite but firm in their resolve.

"It is by the Will of the Slytherin Prince that Slytherin House shall not participate in a class on Boggarts," Theodore said briskly.

She felt the other Slytherins behind her lose the tension that they had been carrying since Lupin announced they would face a Boggart. Pansy no longer trembled behind her and had finally released the tight hold she had held on Lyra's robes.

"Slytherin Prince?" Hermione Granger questioned.

A simple soft pressing of her thumb to Theo's wrist warned him to say nothing to Granger. The girl was annoying but impressive in her research skills. She was sure that Granger could go to the library and learn about House Hierarchy on her own. They didn't need to give her anything else to help her along. It was bad enough they had been put in this situation of having to acknowledge that they adhered to the ancient Hierarchy in front of the Lions.

Lyra kept her eyes trained on Professor Lupin who was frowning at Theodore. She released Theodore's wrist, trusting that he no longer needed any of her guidance. Instead, she turned to the other Slytherins. "You heard the Prince's Decree," she said and a soft smirk curved her lips. The others smirked back, happiness shone in their eyes. "Gather your belongings, this class is over for us," she ordered. It would make Granger think that she was perhaps the second of the Prince of Slytherin. She was counting on Granger's more modern concepts to keep her identity safe when the Know it all did her research. She was sure that Granger would put some of it together, it was only a matter of time now that a curious bit of intrigue had been dangled before the nosy little Lioness.

"Now wait just a minute," Professor Lupin protested.

Lyra ignored him and gathered her school bag along with the other students. It was a horrible use of power proclaiming that they would not participate. She hated doing it. She truly did, because she liked Lupin. Also, she could acknowledge that they needed to learn this spell. Needed to face the fear that a Boggart would try to use against them. Still, she couldn't condone doing it in front of other students who had treated them like criminals since they had been sorted into Slytherin House. She could not countenance putting Pansy through facing her worst fear in front of people that regularly mocked her and cared nothing about the emotional scars that they left on her. She couldn't countenance making Theodore look upon his mother's dead and broken body again before these people. She just couldn't make Gregory watch his father murder his favorite pet again. She couldn't do it. She just couldn't and wouldn't give the Lions that kind of power against them. Not when they constantly snarled at them and told them that they were Death Eaters in training. No!

"The Prince of Slytherin has spoken," Lyra said in a firm tone.

"So Mote It Be!" her fellow Slytherins declared, their voices strong and sure.

Theodore extended his arm to her and she took it, grateful for his escort, grateful for his shelter from the eyes of the Gryffindor's. Each of the male Slytherin's offered an arm to the other ladies. Greg offered his escort to Tracey, Blaise chose to escort Daphne and Pansy both, while Vincent escorted Millicent. With heads held high, the made their way out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They were silent as they strode with confidence down the corridors. None of them spoke, but there was a bubbling tension within each of them. By silent agreement, they made their way down into the dungeons and then into the safety of Slytherin House.

"That was mad!" Tracey exclaimed and a hysterical giggle burst from her lips.

"Completely," Daphne agreed, more subdued but she was smiling.

"We are going to be in so much trouble," groaned Gregory.

Lyra smirked. "Perhaps," she said enigmatically. Professor Snape despised Professor Lupin. This would work in their favor. She was also positive that Severus would not stand for the idea of their fears being aired before children that consistently treated them like vermin. No, her God-father would not stand for that. He was protective of his little Snakes. They might be forced to make up the work though. Perhaps she should even volunteer them for that? A class on Boggarts without the presence of Gryffindor House?

"I think we should tell Professor Snape that we are willing to make up the work. We aren't against facing the Boggart, but we would not do it in front of the Lions," she declared.

Pansy shook her head then but the others were nodding in agreement. Lyra watched as Greg settled beside Pansy and pulled her gently into his side, letting her rest against him. He ran his hand over her shoulder in a soothing manner. He whispered softly to her, trying to reassure her. He had come a long way from the overweight boy he had been just two years ago at the Sorting Feast. Years of careful diet and rigorous exercise had trimmed him down into a healthy and muscled figure. He had the build of a Quidditch Beater. Sturdy, strong, and capable of lethal damage. She was proud of how he had taken her order to get himself into shape so seriously.

"Alright," Pansy finally relented after a few minutes of letting Gregory coax her.

Lyra smiled then. "It'll just be us and the Professor there, Pansy, otherwise we don't do it," she insisted. "Agreed?"

There were murmurs of consent from all of them and she went to her chair, the high-backed chair before the fireplace that she had claimed as hers back in her first year. She sank down into the chair and sighed. "Professor Snape is going to be quite angry," she admitted softly. "He'll not disagree with our reasoning, but the situation alone will infuriate him."

Blaise snickered. "True, but it's done now so there is no sense in dwelling on it. It's too late to change our minds," he said.

"Quite right," Lyra agreed. "Forward then. We'll offer to make up the work if Professor Lupin is amenable, but it cannot be done with the Gryffindor's," she saw relief from the others and felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She had been right to protect them this way. The Gryffindor children would have just used their fears against them. She frowned at that thought. "I also decree that we do not ever mention what we saw in that classroom. In no altercation with a Gryffindor are any of you to bring up the fears that we witnessed today."

Vincent groaned. "Come off it," he protested. "At least Weasley deserves to be taunted. He's the worst of that lot. The Gryffindor's might even be somewhat tolerable if it were not for him, Granger, and Potter sneering down at us."

There were nods and murmurs of agreement about that last part from her other Snakes.

"I actually liked Parvati before she sorted into Gryffindor. My father does business with the Patil family. I am still on good terms with Padma, but Parvati has bought into a lot of that nonsense that we are Death Eaters in training that Weasley likes to spit out," Pansy said sadly.

Daphne nodded. "My family and the Brown family have been friends for a long time. I grew up with Lavender. Despite being sorted into Gryffindor she and I are still friends. During our first year she was given a lot of grief for associating with me, so now we don't spend as much time together at school, even with having classes together. We write letters back and forth and send them by Owl," she confessed. "We made up names for each other. If I write to Lavender then I don't sign my name as Daphne. When she writes to me, she doesn't sign her name as Lavender."

Lyra felt her heartache as she listened to her friends speak of their old friendships and what the stupid house rivalry had done to it. But it wasn't just stupid house rivalry, was it? It was more. Always 'Death Eaters.' They were called Death Eaters because they had sorted into Slytherin. Lyra could understand that in the case of herself, who had a father who bore the Dark Mark, but the Greengrass family had never associated with the Dark Lord. Nor had the Davis family. Tracey was the first Davis in three generations to sort into Slytherin House. If she had sorted into Gryffindor, she doubted that Ronald Weasley would even think to call the girl a Death Eater.

She didn't know how to fix it. She didn't know how to make any of it stop. She wished that she did wish that she knew of a way to make the Gryffindor's stop looking at them like they were faithful followers of He Who Must Not Be Named, but she didn't know how to do it. Maybe they would be too stubborn anyway. She really could not waste her time with the Gryffindor's anyway. There were more important things to deal with. With the rumors that Harry Potter had faced the Dark Lord again at the end of their first year, Lyra was sure that Voldemort would find some way to return. The Death Eaters who had escaped imprisonment in Azkaban had always suspected such. She would not let Voldemort mark her Slytherins. The older years might be a lost cause, she had to admit, but not her age group and not those younger than her. She could save as many as she could.


Harry stared without seeing at the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. It was just a few hours past dinner and he was mulling over the strange events of the day. DADA class had started off as any other class. It was fun to be able to get up and do a practical application of the spells they were learning. Professor Lupin was a breath of fresh air, especially in comparison to their previous DADA teacher. Professor Lupin really knew what he was doing, and he made teaching them fun. Even the Slytherin students had seemed to like and respect him. Maybe that was why Harry felt so confused about what had happened in class that afternoon.

The Slytherin's had chosen not to participate. Theodore Nott had spoken for all the Slytherin's and claimed that the 'Prince of Slytherin' commanded that they not participate. Lyra Malfoy had stood just behind Nott, her hand on his wrist. Harry had felt a deep anger take hold of him as he watched her caress the other boy's wrist. Was Nott her boyfriend? He had wanted to step forward and grab her, pull her away from the other boy. He didn't understand the feeling of possessiveness that had swept through him, but it had startled him, scared him a bit and so he had stayed still and silently watched as Lyra backed up the words of Theodore Nott. He had watched her imperiously order the other Slytherin's and they had jumped to obey her. It was strange and beautiful. She had looked both haughty and adorable as she had let Theodore Nott escort her from the room. Harry had wanted to tear him limb from limb. He had never felt anything like that before.

By dinner time everyone in the school was talking about how the Slytherin's have departed from DADA without participating. They were also discussing the argument that had ensued between Professors Lupin and Snape. Professor Snape had, apparently, degraded Professor Lupin's morals and common sense. He had stated firmly that none of the students, not even the Gryffindor's, should have been forced to air their fears before another student. Harry hated that he agreed with Snape. He had already been teased relentlessly by Seamus since DADA. Neville had likewise been mercilessly teased by the Irishman for his own Boggart turning into Professor Snape. Rumors of both of their Boggart's had circled around the school, but the rumors about the Slytherin's had been far more interesting to the student body.

Harry felt grateful for that. He already hated the student body's preoccupation with his life. He had already experienced two years of it and he was becoming quite jaded to the opinions of those around him. There were few that he trusted, and he couldn't honestly say that he really trusted those closest to him. The events of the summer had made him begin to see things in a slightly different light.

It had started when he had used accidental magic upon his uncle's sister, Marge Dursley. He had fled from Privet Drive and had ended up on the Knight Bus headed to the Leaky Cauldron. There he was met by the Minister of Magic himself, Mr. Cornelius Fudge. The man was a slimy politician. He had been overly friendly to Harry and though Harry had appreciated it at the time because he was relieved that he would not be getting in trouble for using accidental magic, in the days that followed he realized that the slimy political figure had just wanted an excuse to ingratiate himself to Harry because he was 'The Boy Who Lived.' Whether Harry liked it or not, he was put on a pedestal. He was a person of interest and he could be used by others to gain popularity, to gain power. These thoughts had changed the way he viewed everyone around him.

Ron had wanted to see his scar, had wanted the proof that he was Harry Potter. Would Ron Weasley have treated him differently, been less friendly, if he had been just a normal Muggle-raised Wizard? Ron sure didn't seem to think much of Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Muggle-born Wizard in their year that was in Hufflepuff House. He also didn't care much for Dean Thomas who was a Muggle-born and fellow Gryffindor. Harry didn't want to leap to conclusions, but the seed out doubt was now there, and it made him more speculative about his relationship with his best friend.

Then there was Hermione. She had befriended Neville on the train. She had gone door to door trying to help him find his toad, Trevor. Why then didn't she continue to hang out with Neville? Neville was certainly receptive to her friendship. Instead, Hermione had done things, pushed to become closer to Harry and Ron. She had been dogged and persistent. She had known far more about Harry's parents than Harry did, and Ron was right when he said it was creepy. Hermione had read books about his life, books that he was sure were packed full of lies, but there must have been some truth about some of the things said about his parents. She had read them in preparation of meeting him because he was a famous boy in her year group. Harry wasn't sure what made him feel worse, the idea that she had tried to be his friend because he was famous or the knowledge that she had befriended Neville and then had all but abandoned him to be Harry's friend.

He wasn't sure that any of his suppositions were correct. What he did know for certain was that he didn't dare to blindly trust either of them the way that he had for the last two years. He had a problem with the way that Ron sneered at the Slytherin students. Sometimes, he still had bad dreams about that day on the Hogwarts Express when he had stared at Lyra Malfoy's reflection in the window as he let Ron Weasley say mean things to her. She had been in tears and she had whispered his name, imploring him, asking him a question and he had done nothing. He was so ashamed of how he had done nothing at all. Last year he had saved Satyra Malfoy's life because he couldn't stand by and do nothing. He couldn't let Lyra cry again. He needed to do something, atone somehow for how he had spent two years going along with Ron when he said awful things toward her.

He couldn't go along with Ron any longer. He also couldn't rely on Hermione's brilliance for help any longer. He had seen proof twice that Voldemort was still alive, and he would keep trying to kill him. He needed to study hard, work hard, and figure out who he could trust and who he couldn't. This was his life and it wasn't a game. If he didn't prepare himself then Voldemort was going to win. He didn't want to let him win.

He was startled out of his reverie as a book slammed down on the side table beside the comfy couch he was seated upon. He glanced toward his left, startled to see Hermione there frowning at the book. For a girl who enjoyed books so much, she didn't seem to mind using them as weapons when she was annoyed. Just that morning at breakfast she had used her Charms book to beat Ron for some sort of careless insult that the red-haired boy had delivered.

"I spent the whole evening in the library and I found very little to help me figure out just who 'The Prince of Slytherin' is," Hermione complained.

Harry blinked in confusion and then frowned at her. "I thought that it was Theodore Nott," he told her.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I thought so too, but then I realized that he might be a front man," she admitted. "Slytherin's are sneaky."

Harry frowned at that but didn't deny that they were sneaky. "Alright, so who do you think it is?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said with a sigh of frustration. "I did find several references to House Hierarchy. Apparently, all the Houses were once ruled over by a Prince. This was before the current system of Prefects. They basically did the job of a Prefect. Taking care of the other students and being a go-between for them with their Head of House."

He nodded as he mulled over the information Hermione had learned. "It figures that Slytherin would keep the tradition while the other houses let it fade away. Their house keeps to old traditions," he murmured thoughtfully.

Hermione nodded. "Though I now wonder if the other houses really let it fade. Slytherin hid it, but they didn't let it fade. Also, by what I have seen today and the rumors that I have heard, the Slytherin Prefects answer to their Prince. They hid it and today something happened in DADA class to make their Prince decide to reveal his existence."

"Still on about that then?" Ron asked as he joined them on the sofa.

"Yes," Hermione stated bluntly, shooting a glare at Ron. "It is fascinating, and it could prove useful for us in the future. Remember what we went through last year trying to figure out what the Slytherin's knew about the Heir. If we had known about this House Hierarchy and how the Slytherin's still adhered to it, then things might have been easier."

Ron grimaced but nodded. "Know the enemy and all that," he said with a wave of his hand. "Alright, so who is the Prince of Slytherin?"

She sighed in frustration. "I don't know," she admitted.

"Of course, you do," Ron said. "It's Nott. Everyone saw him stand up all imperious and telling Professor Lupin that he didn't want the Slytherin's to take part in the class."

She shook her head in the negative. "I saw it, but that doesn't mean that it's Nott," she insisted.

"So, what, you think it was some conspiracy and the Prince told him beforehand to do that?" Ron asked. "That doesn't make sense. He would have had to know Professor Lupin's lesson plan. None of us were aware that he would be doing a practice that day. We were expecting a lecture."

"Ron's right," Harry said and then held up his hand when Hermione began to protest. "He's right that the Slytherin's would not have known about Professor Lupin's change of plan."

She subsided at that. "The Prince has to be among those Slytherin's then," she said thoughtfully. "So, it's either Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, or Zabini."

Ron nodded. "It is Nott. Must be. Crabbe and Goyle are idiots. Just muscle," he grimaced at that and Harry knew why. Ron had liked it when Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle had just been fat idiots. Now the Gregory Goyle had lost a lot of weight and had beefed up the muscle. Rumor had it that Goyle was going to try out to be a beater as soon as the Slytherin team had an opening. Vincent Crabbe was still a bit chubby, but he was nowhere near the weight that he had just last year. The boy was slimming down, and Ron hated it. He had enjoyed calling them fat and stupid.

"It could be Zabini," Hermione mused. "He's very smart and he's the silent type that would perhaps enjoy having a spokesperson."

"No," Ron said thoughtfully. "He's of foreign blood and that wouldn't sit well with the other Slytherin's, even if his mom might be of one of the old British families."

"What family?" Harry asked.

"His mom was a Rosier," Ron said. "Death Eaters. His uncle was the last Rosier Heir and now it is Zabini."

Hermione wrinkled her nose at that. "I didn't realize he came from a Death Eater family," she said.

"Ron said his uncle was, not that his parents were," Harry defended briefly and then he frowned.

Ron looked at him briefly and then looked to Hermione and shrugged. "It has to be Nott," he said.

Hermione sighed. "I suppose you are right. I just didn't think it would be so obvious. But I did look up information on the Nott family and they are an ancient and noble house and they have a long history of being pure-bloods."

Harry looked back toward the fire and tuned out his friends as they began to snip at each other about other things. His mind replayed that moment in DADA again. Theodore Nott informing Professor Lupin that the Slytherin's would not participate, that it was the order of the Slytherin Prince. Lyra's hand on his wrist. She caressed it, the movements were seemingly innocent, but perhaps they weren't.

He blinked once, then he leaned his head back and closed his green eyes. Hermione had suspected that Nott was a spokesman, a front man for the Prince. He saw it again, Lyra's hand on Nott's wrist and then the look on her face as she had pulled away. The wry twist of her lips as she had said 'The Prince of Slytherin has spoken.'

Suddenly he opened his eyes and blinked up at the ceiling. Hermione was right! Nott was the front man, the spokesperson for the Prince. A shield or Knight meant to be a public face to protect the real Prince. The Slytherin's held to the Old Ways and the ancient practices. That is what Dumbledore had told him last year after he had saved Satyra Malfoy. If that was true, then they would honor the oldest bloodline that their House could boast. Right now, the oldest bloodline in Slytherin House was Malfoy. The Malfoy Heir was Lucius Malfoy's oldest child, and that child was the only one of his children to have been sorted into Slytherin House.

'Lyra,' Harry thought. 'Lyra Malfoy is the Slytherin Prince.'

He didn't have proof, but he didn't need it. Somehow, he just knew that he was correct. This meant that Lyra's closeness to Nott might not be as emotionally personal as he had feared. That sent relief spiraling through him. He chose not to examine it too closely. He glanced briefly at Hermione and Ron, arguing over Ron's laziness about doing their Charm's assignment. He was almost startled to realize that he had no intention to share his insight with his two friends. It felt wrong for some reason. It felt like it would be a betrayal of Lyra, which was very strange because they were not friends.

"I'm going up to bed," Harry announced as he arose from his place on the sofa.

Hermione frowned at him. "Harry, your homework," she started but he cut her off.

"Already completed Hermione," he told her and was pleased by how it startled her. "I did it the first day it was assigned."

"Oh," she said. "Good, I am really proud of you Harry," she said and then turned on Ron. "Now if only you could be more responsible like Harry," she began to scold.

Harry moved past them, moving out of the line of fire. He really didn't want to listen to Hermione scolding Ron and he didn't want to deal with Ron's excuses for putting off his homework while he shot glares at Harry for being more responsible. He trudged up the stairs to his dormitory. Once within he made swift work of changing into his pajamas and climbing into his bed. He sighed as he pulled the curtains around him, closing himself off into darkness.

He spent a few moments telling himself that he hadn't told Hermione and Ron about his insight because he didn't have proof. Hermione would just be skeptical, and Ron would outright deny that Harry could be right without any solid proof. Harry didn't want to give them proof and that was so out of character for him that it left him staring worryingly up at the canopy of his bed for an hour before sleep finally claimed him.


Thank you dear readers! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I hope to have the next one up in a few weeks.