"So what's the deal with all the added workers?" Tim asked, seated across from Dumbledore in his office. Tim was referring to the great number of house-elves he had seen walking about on the floor.
"They're just moving some magical artifacts up to another room."
"What kind of artifacts?"
"A flying catapult, a few fanged Frisbees, and a magical wardrobe that links to another world, among other things."
"Oh, cool. Do you think I'd be able to show that to my class sometime?" Tim asked.
Dumbledore shook his head. "It would be too dangerous, Tim. A powerful witch is said to live in that world."
"A witch?"
"Yes. The realm that lies within the wardrobe was cast into an eternal winter by the White Witch." Dumbledore shook his head once more. "However, that's none of your concern, and not why I called you here."
"Why did you call me here?"
"Pike Bronson." Dumbledore said. "He was found dead in the Muggle Studies classroom this morning."
"Is that right?" Tim asked softly, not at all surprised that Dumbledore knew.
"I know you were the one who killed him, Tim."
"Okay. And what are you gonna do about it?"
"Nothing." Dumbledore said surprisingly. "Pike was never an academic student, according to his records, and to be honest, I don't actually remember Pike myself even receiving a Hogwarts Acceptance Letter. As such, I'm willing to look the other way this time. I just wanted to let you know that that kind of conduct would generally be absolutely unacceptable were you to have killed a student of greater importance. However, given the circumstances, and the fact that we need you around to fight against Voldemort, not to mention the trouble we could get in with the Ministry, I'm going to do my utmost to make sure that no one finds out about this."
"Do whatever you think is best, Dumblebro."
"I will." Dumbledore smiled.
The third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class stood in a huddled mass, looking out with uncertainty at the locked cupboard as it rocked back and forth with vigor.
"Would anyone like to guess what they think is inside the cupboard?" Tim asked.
"I reckon that's a boggart, that is." Dean Thomas smiled proudly.
"Good work, Mister Thomas."
The cupboard shook again, the boggart struggling to get out.
"Would any of you know what a boggart looks like?" Tim asked.
"Nobody knows. Boggarts are shape-shifters." Hermione piped up.
"Correct, Miss Granger!" Tim praised. "At least, according to this book…" Tim threw the book he was holding away. "And that's what can make them one of the most dangerous creatures you might ever come across."
"So they can shape-shift into anything?" Neville Longbottom asked.
"Not anything…" Tim said. "Boggarts turn themselves into the one thing we fear the most. So, when I open the door, only the student facing the boggart will know what it will look like."
"What if the only thing we fear is fear itself?" Seamus asked.
"Okay, Mister Finnigan." Tim frowned. "I want you out of my class."
"What?"
"Grab your books and get out." Tim said sternly. "I won't tolerate any sass from you."
"Are you serious?"
"I'm taking ten House Points from Gryffindor. Unless you wanna make it more, I suggest you get out of my classroom." Tim warned. A few Gryffindor students mumbled complaints about Seamus costing them House Points as Seamus grabbed his books from his desk and slowly walked out of the class. "He's lucky I didn't bust his nuts…" Tim muttered, clearing his throat. "Now, as I was saying, generally, boggarts are one of the hardest creatures to defeat with magic, as there's only one charm that can really affect them."
The cupboard shook again, this time the loudest and most intense it had ever been. Dean raised his hand. "So are you saying that knockback jinxes and body binds won't work?" he asked.
"That's right." Tim nodded. "But, as I said, there is one charm that does. It's called Riddikulus, which is what we'll be focusing on today." Tim looked around for a student to help with the demonstration. Hermione's hand shot into the air once again, and Tim smiled. "I'm loving the enthusiasm, Miss Granger, but I think this time we'll get someone else to start off. Don't worry though, all of you will have your chance against the boggart."
"This class is ridiculous…" Draco muttered.
"Well Draco, looks like you've just volunteered yourself for the demonstration. Up you come." Tim ushered.
"While I would love to, sir," Draco began, a shit-eating grin on his face. "I can't, for you see, my wand-holding arm is broken." Draco showed off to the class that his right arm was in fact in a bandage.
"I can see that…" Tim muttered. "And how did you break your arm?"
"Oh, it was during the Care of Magical Creatures class. Hagrid's bastardized creature attacked me, completely unprovoked."
"You did provoke it, Malfoy!" Ron shouted.
"Either way, I don't see why you can't just use your left hand." Tim said.
"You can talk to Madam Pomfrey if you want. She's the one that said I shouldn't engage in any strenuous activities." Draco smirked.
"I bet she did…" Tim mumbled. "Very well then, Mister Longbottom, how about you?"
Neville's face grew pale just at Tim mentioning his name. "How about I what?" he asked.
"Would you like to help me with the demonstration?"
"Uh… no…" Neville answered honestly, the rest of the students laughing a little.
Tim sighed. "Nothing's going to happen to you, Neville, now come on." Neville started shaking, but never the less made his way out from the group and over to Tim. Another sudden shake from the cupboard almost caused Neville's bones to jump out of his skin. "Alright," Tim sighed again. "So, the Riddikulus Charm is very easy to perform, but can also be quite difficult to maintain. It requires complete mental dedication, and especially in the case of a boggart, you need to have a clear mental image in your mind."
"Wh-what do I do, s-sir?" Neville asked quietly.
"I need you to think of something right now, Neville. What scares you the most?" Tim asked.
"Professor Snape…" Neville whispered, all the other students erupting into laughter. Even Tim chuckled a little.
"Yes, I can see that… Ugly man he is… Is there perhaps anyone else that you find scary?"
"Well, um… my grandmother, who I live with, but I don't want the boggart turning into her either!" he shouted defensively.
"Okay…" Tim mulled. "And what kind of clothes does your grandmother wear?"
"A long green dress, a weird hat, and a big red handbag. Why do you ask?"
Tim stepped forward, leaning down and whispering instructions into Neville's ear. "I'm gonna open that cupboard in a moment, okay? And I want you to perform the Riddikulus Charm. At the same time, I want you to imagine, as best you can, Snape wearing your grandmother's clothes." Tim pulled away. "Think you can handle that?"
Neville nodded, in spite of the sweat appearing on his forehead. Tim walked over to the cupboard, grasping the handle and pulling the door open, walking back with it. Slowly, the boggart – who had assumed the form of Professor Snape, walked out, slowly making its way over to Neville, who felt his energy leave him.
Summoning up all the courage he had, Neville retrieved his wand and pointed it straight at the boggart. "Riddikulus!" he shouted. The boggart staggered back a few feet, suddenly becoming adorned in outlandish and clearly feminine clothing. Neville smiled as the rest of the class laughed, the boggart looking around in confusion.
"Very good, Neville. That was perfect!" Tim smiled. "Ten House Points to Gryffindor!" Tim turned to the rest of the class. "Okay, everybody else, I want you to form a line at the back of the class, and picture the thing you fear the most. When you're ready to use the Riddikulus Charm, think of something funny, and have at it!"
The class struggled to get into an orderly line, mostly due to Draco, Crabbe and Goyle attempting to shove their way to the front. Tim nodded to Neville, who walked back over to his desk and sat down. Ron, who happened to be at the front of the line, looked on in fear as the boggart turned its attention to him.
In one moment, Professor Snape stood scowling at Ron, the next, an Acromantula stood in its place. Ron's face seemed to twist in agony from even just facing the creature.
"Go on, Ron, you're gonna do fine." Tim told him.
"Come on, Ron!" Neville shouted. "If I can do it, you can!"
Ron swallowed audibly, taking his wand out of his robe and pointing it at the boggart, although his hand was shaky. "Riddikulus!"
Just like before, the boggart staggered, although this time it was because its Acromantula form had suddenly found roller skates attached to all of its eight legs. Ron laughed heartily as the boggart struggled about pointlessly before collapsing, having become completely immobile.
"Nice work, Ron! That's another ten House Points for Gryffindor!" Tim cheered. "Alright, who's next?"
Padma Patil, a young Ravenclaw student stepped up, brandishing her wand as the boggart quickly morphed and shape-shifted to take the form of a giant cobra. The cobra hissed wildly before lunging at Padma.
"Riddikulus!" she said firmly, the boggart's form changing completely. Unlike with Neville and Ron, where the boggart's general form remained the same, only being adorned with different clothing or accessories, Padma forced the boggart to turn into a completely different form, a giant jack-in-the-box.
"I think that's scarier than the snake…" Tim muttered. "Oh well…" he shrugged. "Ten House Points to Ravenclaw!"
Padma sat down in her seat just as Neville and Ron had done, Harry stepping up to face the boggart. Tim's body tensed, himself knowing what Harry's fear was.
Just as the boggart took the form of Lord Voldemort, that is, a Voldemort at full strength imbued with hatred and darkness, not the decrepit force that possessed Quirrell who Tim faced, Tim jumped to Harry's defense, placing himself between the boy and the boggart.
And just like that, Voldemort was no more. Instead, a young girl who looked to be thirteen or possibly a little older stood where Voldemort had. The girl's waist-length hair was the same color as Tim's. Where her eyes should have been, there were only empty sockets, blood slowly dripping from them. Her skin was pale and lifeless. Even the freckles on her face looked more like sores and scabs.
Tim's breathing quickened. "Harry, now! Use the Riddikulus Charm!" he shouted, but Harry didn't move.
Hermione quickly darted out from the line, drawing her wand and pointing it at the boggart. "Riddikulus!" she shouted.
The boggart hissed at Hermione, itself struggling to change into the appropriate from. This came from the confusion the boggart apparently had, as although the boggart was facing Tim, Hermione was the one that used the Riddikulus Charm on it.
Tim saw an opening and took it, rushing forward and pushing the boggart back into the cupboard and locking the door. Tim exhaled heavily. "Thank you, Miss Granger… Fifty House Points to Gryffindor…"
Tim stared out at the beautiful ravine from the safety of the covered bridge, listening to the calming sounds of the wind.
Ever since coming face to face with his boggart, Tim hadn't been able to get it out of his mind, which was incredibly surprising, especially for him. He, of course, knew what his boggart was and why. It was the entire reason he came to Hogwarts to defeat Voldemort, after all.
"Damn it…!" Tim muttered, clenching his hands into fists, his entire body tense. He had to calm himself down. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up doing serious damage to the school.
"Professor?"
Tim stopped, feeling his anger fade away almost instantly, once again being replaced by his passion and undying love. Tim turned to see Harry looking at him from the other end of the bridge. "Har-" Tim cut himself off. "Mister Potter… Why aren't you going to Hogsmeade with the others?" He asked, having noticed a large group of third-year students leave with Argus Filch a while ago.
"I couldn't get my permission slip signed." Harry said dejectedly, walking over to Tim.
"What kind of dumb reason is that? You could've just forged the signature!"
"But that wouldn't have been the right thing to do." Harry pointed out.
"Do you think Voldemort cares about what's right?" Tim asked. Harry didn't answer, and so Tim sighed. "Listen, Harry. When I was six years old, I lied about my age to get into the military. Now, if I hadn't have done that, there's no way we would've won the war."
"This isn't war though, sir. This is just a visit to Hogsmeade."
Tim turned, looking straight into Harry's eyes, the boy's soul penetrated voluptuously. "Everything is a war." Tim told him. "Come with me. I want to show you something…"