Claire's Defense Against the Dark Arts fell on the first day of learning this year, and she was excited to see what Professor Lupin had in mind for the class. Earlier, the twins offered to skip class with her the same period of the class, but she denied, have a lick of faith in the new teacher, knowing he might be better than the previous three Claire had for the class.
And, boy, was she right for denying them because Lupin was better than the other three combined just in his first day with his class. Though he did show up for the first five minutes of class. Those five minutes got Claire to regret her decision of denying the twins, mostly because Nathan was talking in her ear about what he did during the summer and what his other classes were like, even though Claire already knew since she had those classes with him.
Before she could stand and excuse herself from the class, an old briefcase and a long robe whisked past her, saying, "Put your books away, class, we won't ne need them today," Professor Lupin stated, standing in front of the students. "I've planned a practical day, so all you will need is your wand and self."
Practical day? Claire thought as she pushed her books into her bag and grabbing her wand. We've not had one of those in ages, not since the pixie fairies. But she stood anyway as Lupin moved toward the open door, saying, "Follow me."
They weren't even halfway down the first corridor when she felt a tug on her left sleeve that pulled her aside from the class. She was almost to saying a stunning spell when she noticed who had pulled her away from the crowd.
"Seriously guys?" she huffed, pulling her sleeve out from George's hand. "I can't go one class without you two trying to get me in on some prank."
"Nah, we're not here for a prank," George stated, standing a little taller as he spoke.
"We're here for something better."
"And what's that?" Claire asked, smoothing out her clothes.
"We're sneaking into your class."
"Seriously?" Claire said again. She didn't wait for the twins to reply though, seeing as the class had already disappeared down the corner. She walked down the corridor, hoping Lupin didn't notice her absent or thought her skipping. Claire didn't like the thought of a bad first impression for the new teacher; in fact, she wanted to set a good example of her next encounters with the lanky man. "You two should get to your own class instead of bothering mine."
Despite her words, two pairs of footsteps sounded behind her as they ran to catch up to their friend. They found a place in the class, blending in with the other Gryffindors and Slytherins who scowled at the twins as they pushed their way into the middle of the group. None of them said a thing about the trio, even though they knew the Weasleys did not belong.
Soon enough, the Fourth Years came to a stop in front of the staffroom, where Professor Lupin held open the door and looked at them as they filed in the room. He didn't seem to notice the twins as they walked past him, seeing as they didn't have their class until tomorrow, where they would no doubt cause mischief and be well known.
The staffroom was long and empty, save for a few rickety chairs pushed to the side and a large, old wardrobe sat at the end of the room, waiting and looming over the students. The teacher walked to the wardrobe, ushering the students toward the end of the room.
"What do you think he's going to do with the wardrobe?" George asked, leaning in to Claire's ear as he spoke.
"How do you know his lesson is going to involve the wardrobe?" Claire whispered, not moving her eyes from the antique.
"Of course it has to do with the wardrobe!" Fred whispered back. "What else would we be doing in the staffroom?"
As Claire opened her mouth to respond, Professor Lupin stood next to the wardrobe. It gave a violent shudder, nearly toppling over and crushing the thin man. Claire, in alarm, stepped back in to the twins, who placed a hand on each of her shoulders and pushed her forward.
"There's no need for alarm here," Lupin said, cutting off any of the startled chatter. "The only thing in here is a Boggart."
Boggart? Claire questioned, looking at the wardrobe as it shook some more, startling a few more people. People shifted all around her, but Claire was kept in place by the twins, who never faltered like the others.
"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath 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 classes some practice.
"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"
A few people mumbled answers, but Fred leaned again into her ear, saying, "They're shape-shifters, I think. They live off fear."
Claire shuddered, but kept her attention on the professor, who spoke again. "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 most fears.
"This means," said Professor Lupin, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Claire, do you know what that is?"
At the sound of her name, Claire clammed up and clenched her fists. "Uh, there's so many of us, I guess, that it'll be confused?"
"Please don't sound so unsure of yourself," he replied, looking directly at the blonde, who immediately blushed at the comment.
"Since there's so many of us, the Boggart will be confused," Claire repeated, meeting the tall man's gaze.
"Correct," the professor said, nodding at the Fourth Year. "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."
But to Claire, the image of the thing made her shudder again, cringing in her mind.
"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!"
"Riddikulus," the class chanted, even the twins, who weren't supposed to be in the class participated.
Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough." He looked at the crowd of students, decided upon someone to demonstrate with. He picked one of the Slytherins, a brunette who looked on as Lupin spoke.
"First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"
The brunette, whose name Claire could not remember for the life of her, thought for a brief moment and then responded. "Fire, I suppose."
"Think of something to turn that fire into, because Boggarts live off fear, and not laughter that's full of life. Do you understand?" The brunette nodded and stepped toward the wardrobe. "When the Boggart steps out of the wardrobe, it will take the form of fire to scare you. You will keep the image you've thought of strong in your mind, and say riddikulus. You must concentrate hard, or it will not work."
"If Amanda does correctly, then the Boggart will turn its attention on each of us in turn. I'd like to take a brief moment for you all to think of what scares you the most, as well as something comical to turn it in to."
"What's Claire-y Wear-y afraid of?" came Fred's voice near her ear, and she closed her eyes, trying to grab onto that thing she feared the most. Nothing came up. There has to be something, Claire thought, because she knew she was afraid of something, but couldn't think of it, couldn't grasp onto the terror that she felt on the train earlier that week.
She wasn't scared of the Dementors, she knew. They weren't her greatest fear, seeing as after the Dementors had left, the darkness lifted from her body. There was something else that Claire was terrified of, and she spent the entirety of her time in line thinking of it.
"Claire! Forward!" Lupin's voice cut off her thoughts, and she raised her wand, preparing herself, thinking of what she feared most.
When the Boggart set eyes on her, Claire debated stepping back and letting someone take it over. But there was no time, as a crack transformed the previous funny fear into twins, both with fiery hair and brown eyes. Claire stiffened and felt the twins do the same behind her. I...I don't fear Fred and George, she thought.
The Boggart began speaking, using the voice of the twins and speaking as one unit, like the twins themselves did on occasion. "You're horrible and can't pull a prank," they started. "It's no wonder your only friend was that oaf Nathan. You're lucky to have-"
"Riddikulus!" Claire shouted, not wanting to hear anymore, wanting to cut off the Boggart. The Boggart's bodies fused together at the torso, giving them two heads and three feet and two arms. Before it was even over, Claire turned and made her way to the end of the line, not meeting the gazes of her classmates.
The twins followed her, pushing passed the people, hardly caring. Nathan looked at her, as if he was hurt by what the Boggart said, though the Boggart spoke lies, terrible and horrible lies that Claire did not want to believe, because she was not afraid of the twins being disappointed in her. If that were the case, then why did the Boggart take their form and speak like that?
"Are you okay?" Fred asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She wanted to tell them the truth, to say that she wasn't okay, to say she questioned what the Boggart was thinking when it saw her fear. But she looked out the window of the staffroom and murmured, "I'm all right."
"You're not, are you?" That was George, speaking from the other side, not touching her, keeping his distance, as if knowing something that Claire didn't.
"I'm okay," she repeated, meeting his gaze, daring him to ask again.
In a few months time, they would ask the same question but for a different reason. When she responded, she would not lie; she would say she was not okay and didn't think she'd ever be okay. Claire would cry and tell the truth, not daring hold anything back in the moment. Claire would sob and speak, mouth blubbering words that were half understandable.
In a few months time, Claire's whole life would be turned upside down, and she would clutch the nearest hand for ages to come. And that hand would belong to her best friends, who would hold her long after the crying ceased, who would sooth her with jokes that were half told and with promises of pranks they would never actually do.
She would do the same, give her a few years, to the one that did not touch her. She would cry with him as he cried with her, mind unfocused because how in the world could one of them die so early in life, so quickly?